Written: December 14, 2006
Author's Note: This is a little Xmas fic I wrote back in 2006 as part of a fic present giveaway. Just a little Xmas fluff.
Ten Things I Hate About Yule
"Faith, be careful!" Buffy yelled as she followed Faith in the door carrying a large box of colored lights and garland. "You have to lift it up, don't drag it. Half of the needles have already been pulled off."
Putting the tree up against a wall so she could wipe the sweat from her brow, Faith turned her attention to Buffy, giving her an annoyed look.
"What does it matter anyways, B? We already killed the thing by cutting it down from its nice forest home. We put some lights on it, completely ignore it for two weeks, and then throw it out with the trash. Who cares if a few needles are missing here and there?"
Buffy glared at Faith before turning her attention back to the now pathetic looking tree, completely ignoring what Faith had said.
"Oh, great. Look at it now," she said as she held up a puny branch with about seven needles left on it. "It's official: We have the Charlie Brown Christmas tree. Our first Christmas together is officially cursed."
Faith chuckled at how dramatic her counterpart was being, and especially at the big pout that she was now wearing.
"Aww, come here." Faith said, pulling Buffy into her arms, not even minding that Buffy wasn't hugging her back. She leaned her head down and tried to give Buffy a kiss, but Buffy slipped out of her arms and gave her an annoyed look.
"No," Buffy began, shaking her head, "you think you can kill MY Christmas tree and make it better with kisses?"
Faith smiled, "Well, kisses for starters. And then maybe I'll get you naked and . . ."
"Ugh, you're unbelievable." Buffy interrupted her. "Don't you have any Christmas spirit, Faith? Think about the lights, and the presents, and the snow, and the family and friends . . . don't you look forward to any of that?"
Faith thought about it for a moment or two.
Finally, she leaned against the countertop and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Honestly? No. Unless you're some kinda religious nut, Christmas is just like any of those other commercial holidays. You spend a ridiculous amount of money on gifts, knowing fully well that you're gonna get crap all in return. You decorate your house so it looks as tacky as possible. You cut down perfectly good trees so your house can smell like pine-y goodness. I just don't get it, B. It's not my thing."
Buffy listened to Faith's tirade, trying to remain as calm as possible the entire time. She didn't agree with Faith. Even for the non-religious, Christmas was more about crosses and birthdays and a man who supposedly walked on water.
She wanted Faith to realize that Christmas could be special for them. Something they could share that would bring them closer together.
But for Faith to realize that, she needed incentive to look beyond her own closed-mindedness.
With a wry smile n her face, Buffy crossed the small space and stood in front of Faith.
"Listen here, Ebenezer Faith. I love Christmas. I'd love for you to be able to enjoy it with me. But you're too stubborn to see how much fun it could be for the two of us. And, since you're trying to take away MY joy and fun, I'm taking away yours. Until you can find and tell me ten reasons why you loooove Christmas . . . there will be no sex."
Faith's eyes went wide, a look of disbelief on her face.
"Buffy, that's not fair. I don't force you to enjoy . . . I dunno . . . Hanukkah."
"Faith, if you loved Hanukkah and wanted to celebrate it, I would spin the dradel with the best of them and play that Adam Sandler song non-stop just to make you happy. Because I like to see you having fun. I'm simply asking you to do the same for me. Find ten things that you find tolerable, or that you could look forward to, and tell me about them. And I'll reward you with the hottest, wettest, dirtiest sex that we've ever had."
Before Faith could even wiggle her eyebrows or smirk, Buffy gave her a long, deep kiss, filled with promises of things to come. And just as Faith started to respond by wrapping her arms around Buffy and squeezing her butt, Buffy pulled away and grinned.
She grabbed the Christmas tree and began to lug it into the living room on her own, taunting in a sing-song voice,
"Ten things, Faith . . . it's a small request for the large reward that you'll receive!"
Faith sat with her back against the cold brick of their apartment building, taking a break from all of the Christmas chaos going on inside with Buffy the Mood Slayer. She let her feet dangle off the edge of the fire escape, watching her breath come out in little white puffs.
Despite the cold, she sat there with a pen and pad of paper in her hands, trying to come up with ten things that she could enjoy about Christmas.
First she had written down 'snow', but it now sat with a huge line over it. Snow reminded Faith of Boston, and that never brought back fond memories. Instead, she lamented the loss of the warm sun and somehow managed to blame that on Christmas in her own mind.
Next, she had written down 'presents'. It wasn't a big secret: Faith loved receiving presents. But the fact remained that things were a bit tight for her and Buffy, so their present budget was pretty limited. She couldn't look forward to receiving gifts when she knew that the ones she'd be purchasing would be pretty craptacular.
With a sigh, she crossed out 'presents' and moved on to the next entry.
If there was one thing that Faith despised the most, it was the cheesy multi-colored bulbs that people used to decorate . . . well, pretty much everything. She even saw some lady down at the shopping mall with Christmas lights attached to her sweater, attached to a small battery. Buffy had loved the sweater, and Faith had cringed at the simple appearance of it.
Faith stood firm in her belief that the only thing people should adorn themselves with to feel 'special' was leather and silk. At that, she crossed Christmas lights off of her list and tossed her pad aside.
It was useless; there was no way in hell that she was gonna be able to find ten things to be excited about regarding Christmas unless she was going to lie about it, and she had made a promise to Buffy months early that they would never lie to one another.
That was one of the first decisions that they had made together as a couple. Lies brought pain, and they had caused one another enough pain during their previous years of acquaintance.
At the thought of their first few weeks together, Faith smiled warmly and turned her head so that she could peek into the apartment.
Her smile grew wider as she watched Buffy struggling with the large pathetic-looking tree, turning it over and over again so that she could find a non-bare spot to face forward. Buffy grunted as she spun it around, cursing it every time a nearly-bare branch smacked her in the forehead or when the tree kept trying to tumble over, despite being in a balanced tree-stand.
She watched in amusement as Buffy, finally content with her placement of the tree, stood back and did a small cheer. She laughed to herself when, due to the motion of Buffy's excited cheer, the tree began to tip over again, nearly knocking Buffy down on her ass.
And it didn't matter to Faith that they had killed a tree. It didn't matter that their apartment would look like a cheesy disco for the next few weeks. It didn't matter that she had no feeling in her cold fingers and that she bought Buffy an electric toothbrush as her big gift.
What mattered was that, at that moment, she wanted to be inside with Buffy, helping her with the vengeful Christmas tree, cheering with her when they got it just right, and sharing in the fun that she knew they would have. Together.
With the small smile still plastered on her face, Faith stood up and crawled back inside the window frame, closing is shut tight behind her to keep out the cold.
Buffy heard the clatter and stood with a small smile on her face, looking expectantly at Faith.
"That was quick."
"Yeah, well . . . I only needed a bit of time to focus."
"Let's hear it then," Buffy said, sitting down with her hands on her lap, a small smile gracing her face.
Faith stood there, feeling awkward for a moment, but she looked to the crooked and wobbly Christmas tree and found her smile again.
"Okay, B, you asked for ten things that I could love about Christmas. And I honestly tried to come up with a list. Really; you can look at the paper out on the fire escape. But the truth is . . . I can't find ten things. I hate the lights, the snow and cold weather brings back bad memories, I suck at buying gifts, and every time I hear a Christmas Caroler, I wanna chase them down and throw eggs at them."
Buffy's smile turned into a big frown as she listened to Faith. She looked like she was either going to cry or break out into a flurry of fists and feet. Instead, she sat still and waited for Faith to finish.
"But, yunno what," Faith continued, "none of that matters. I sat out there all bitter and bah-humbug girl and I watched you struggling with that stupid tree, and . . . there was no place that I wanted to be more than in here, letting that tree slap me in the forehead, watching you cheer when we got it just right and hugging you so tight as you giggled in my arms."
Buffy's smile appeared on her face again, her eyes wet with unshed tears.
"So, yeah . . . I may not appreciate Christmastime as much as you do, but . . . I know I could learn to look forward to it, so long as I get to have it with you. And I'll smile when your friends and family come over and make fun of our crappy little tree, and I'll wear the damn Santa hat that you got for me, and hell . . . I'll even wear a sweater with Christmas lights on it. As long as I get to see you happy and have fun . . . I'll be happy too, B."
Buffy stood up and crossed the small space between her and Faith, finally taking Faith's hands in her own. She leaned up and placed a small kiss on Faith's lips, then turned around and pulled Faith's arms around her as they shuffled off across the room.
"Do I get my Christmas sex now?" Faith asked, excited.
Buffy didn't answer, she simply pulled Faith into the bedroom behind her and shut the door.
And over the symphony of their breathy sighs and moans, not a peep was heard in their warm, overly decorated apartment . . . except for the sound of a pathetic-looking tree falling over and a hundred pine needles scattering onto the hardwood floor.
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