It’s not the first time Faith’s wrapped presents but it sure as hell looks that way. She lacks the particular gene that most women have to make wrapped gifts look like little bundles of ribboned glory from heaven. No, the presents she’s wrapping look like little balls of crinkled paper with gobs of tape stuck here and there.
Still, at least it’s a step up from the year before when she used duct tape when she ran out of the other stuff.
Boxes aren’t actually that difficult; there are no awkward angles or extra pieces of paper hanging here or there when she’s halfway done with them. It’s the weird-shaped presents that really boggle her mind.
“Stupid basketball,” she grumbles to herself as she tries to bend the wrapping paper this way and that to make it fit around the ball.
Don’t even get her started on the backboard and net she just wrapped before it. Kennedy better fucking love her when she opens them up.
Once again she’s cut the paper too short and no matter which way she turns it or squeezes the ball, there’s a one-inch stripe of orange showing down one side. In most cases like this she’s applied what she calls a band-aid – a strip of wrapping paper to awkwardly blend in with the rest. She’s quickly losing her patience though and this time she just grabs a few shiny silver bows from the floor and sticks them to the bald spot.
She holds it up and inspects it, smiling proudly.
“You’re a genius, Lehane,” she says to herself, then tosses the ball across the room to join the presents alongside the bed, not even noticing when the bows fall off when the ball bounces around.
Taking a deep breath, Faith grabs her bottle of beer from the dresser and takes a long swig, then puts it back. More beer can be had when the presents are wrapped; that’s the thought that’s getting her through the wrapping process.
Seeing the box of lingerie from Victoria’s Secret that she got for Buffy (and herself) next on the pile, she grabs a fresh roll of wrapping paper – her eighth of the night – and rolls it out to fit the box. She cuts the needed paper from the roll and pulls it around the box and . . . it’s short again.
But no one will see the bottom of the box so she decides not to waste even more paper. She’s pretty sure she’s already killed at least two trees in scrap anyhow. Tugging this way and that, she finally gets the paper to where she wants it and . . .
“Aww, dammit!” she swears and puts the tip of her finger in her mouth.
After a minute she pulls it out and looks down at her ninth paper cut of the night. It’ll be healed soon but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less than the eight before it. Grumbling to herself, she finishes wrapping the box with her injured finger tucked under and makes sure the gift is blood free before tossing it over to join the others.
The sound of the paper tearing as it hits the ground makes her wince, but she easily shakes it off for another sip of beer.
A few minutes pass by while she sits there having a short break and someone knocks on the door. She looks up to see it open just a crack and Buffy standing on the other side, eyes shut tight.
“Before you ask, I’m not looking,” Buffy offers.
“You can look all you want, all of yours are wrapped already,” Faith says.
She watches as Buffy walks in and heads giddily over to the pile of presents to check them out.
“Why aren’t you using the gift bags I got you?”
“Huh?” Faith asks, her brow furrowing.
“The gift bags,” Buffy repeats and turns to face Faith, holding an awkwardly wrapped present in her hands. “I got them for you because they’re easier than wrapping paper. Just toss the gift in, add some tissue paper, and voila. Prettiness.”
Faith doesn’t reply. She can’t. There’s nothing to say. She looks around the room at the masses of scrap paper, empty wrapping paper rolls, and awkwardly wrapped gifts and shakes her head sadly.
“Two trees died to make your Christmas jolly and you only just now tell me about gift bags? Pretty sure that gets you smack dab on the naughty list, B.”
“I’m not sure that’s fair.”
“It ain’t, but hey, silver lining? I’ll finally have some company for a change.”
Grinning, she pulls Buffy down onto her lap, a roll of wrapping paper falling between them and messily unrolling. They laugh and Buffy slides her hands up over the paper covering Faith’s chest, her hands still able to feel where the good parts are beneath it.
“I think I found a present I’d like to unwrap,” Buffy says, smiling sexily.
Faith blindly grabs for the present Buffy dropped on the floor – Kennedy’s basketball – and tosses it at the opened door which sends it slamming closed. She returns her sexy smile with one of her own as she lays back, pulling Buffy with her.
“And now you get to see why being on the naughty list kicks ass.”
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