Set in alt. Amends.
Xander helped himself to another serving of hot choco. This alone was worth spending Christmas Eve at Buffy’s; well, there was no lonely huddling in his tent in the backyard - which was a bonus - but he figured that fighting off ghosts cancelled that out. Joyce Summers might not be the shrewdest mom in town (in her defense, all their parents kind of sucked at noticing bruises and claw marks), but in the kitchen? She was the best.
“Is it wrong to say I love Buffy’s mom?”
Cordelia fixed him with a look, and thrust her cup forward. “Keep pouring, Harris.”
Two more