One Starry Night

By Elka

Title: One Starry Night
Author: Elka
Email: [email protected]
Rating: PG
Order: First part. No order. Giggle. You aren't really reading this,
are you?
Spoilers: General season four. Spike is unbitey, living at Giles'.
Distribution: The regulars. Ask if you've got the wants.
Disclaimer: Joss is the wind beneath my wings. Based loosely on
Dickens'
'A Christmas Story', so he gets creds.
Feedback: I lick feedback.
Author's Notes: Okay, I said I was going to write a really dark
Christmas
story, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. This one isn't
completely
sappy, but it won't be too detailed because I want it to actually be
done before Christmas. What a novel idea. Based on 'A Christmas Story'.
A shirtless Spike and chubbt-cheeked Xander for Inell.

-----

Spike smiled to himself as he pulled off his shirt, crawling into bed.
He loved the way the redhead laughed at his jokes, no matter how
cynical.
The way she smiled innocently at the Slayer when reprimanded for
appeasing
the vampire.

He stared at the ceiling. "How can this be happening? Falling for a
human
girl Spikey boy? Can't be. She's just cute."

He sighed, turning on his side. "Can't be doing that. She doesn't need
me."

"Spiiiike." A voice moaned in the darkness. "Willliammmmm."

Spike glanced around. "Who's that?"

"Spiiiiiiike." It came again. "Spiiiiiiiiiiike."

He rolled his eyes. "Got that, mate. Spike. Present. Now, who's
calling?"

"Your time has come." The voice addressed him eerily. "It's time to
learn."

Completely unphazed, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Learn
what? I don't like school much."

"You called for me. I'm here to show you what you need to see to make
a decision."

"What decision?" Spike was irritated at the invisible presence. "What
the fuck are you talking about and why won't you let me get some
sleep?"

"Do you wish that I show myself?"

"Yes."

"Then say it."

"Say what?"

"Say you wish that I show myself."

"Bloody hell. I wish that you show yourself."

"See? Was that so hard?"

An apparation slowly came to form in front of him. A familiar figure.
Spike squinted at the face, making out the devilish smile and chubby
cheeks of someone he recognised.

"Xander?"

"No. I am not Xander, but I've been told..."

"Who are you?"

The ghost smiled. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Past."

-----
"What the fuck is that?"

The Ghost of Christmas Past frowned. "Don't use that word around
a higher up of the season. It's bad form."

"Yeah, well you can kiss my..."

"Okay, let's start the fun. Shall we?" The Ghost interjected
quickly.

"What fun? I'm not too keen on the floaty ghost thing."

The two stared at each other for a few moments. Spike relented
with a sigh.

"Fine, mate. Let's get this over with."

Bright blue and white lights swirled around them. Whistling
noises enveloped the two. A blinding flash and it was over.

Spike looked around.

"We didn't go anywhere."

The Ghost chuckled. "I know, but wasn't that really, really
cool?"

"Bloody hell."

-----

Spike peered into the room, the harder he squinted, the clear
the image became.

"Hey. That's the old place."

He stared.

"Xander...and Willow, all tied up. What's going on mate? That
was over a year ago."

The Ghost of Christmas Past rolled his eyes. "Very good. You're
catching on to the whole past thing. Brilliant."

"Watch it. I'll snap your neck."

"My transparent, not-really-there-neck?" The Ghost, that still
looked exactly like Xander, replied smartly.

"Okay, so what of this?"

"That's what happened, right? You brought the two of them here
as bait for the Slayer. But what would have happened if you
hadn't done that?"

"I probably wouldn't have been sore for a week afterward."
Spike muttered.

The scene changed, objects and colours shifted revealing new
ones. Spike watched as Willow's crying form came into focus.

He stepped forward two steps, finding himself in her bedroom.

"Why's she crying?"

The Ghost stayed back, almost in the shadows. He spoke low
and evenly. "She left Oz. Couldn't stand not knowing what she
could have missed with Xander. But he rejected her for Cordelia
and now Oz won't even take her back. She's miserable."

"And I had something to do with this?" Spike couldn't take
his eyes off the girl.

"If you hadn't kidnapped them, they wouldn't have kissed again
and she wouldn't have known how much she truly loves Oz. Even
if it means giving up Xander." The Ghost shook his head. "All
because you were there. For such a bad guy, you do a lot of
good."

"Hey. Don't let that get out mate, I have a reputation to uphold."
Spike sighed. "But they broke up anyway."

"True. But the past isn't perfect, it's only there to allow
you to deal with the future."

The Ghost held out a hand to him. "Come, we must leave."

"But..."

In a flash they were gone.

-----

Spike glanced around. Back in his temporary room at Giles'.
He shook his head.

"Did that happen?"

"Yes. Spike. It happened."

Spike glanced up. The Slayer, blurry and unclear, floated in
front of him.

"Let me take a wild guess. You're The Ghost of Christmas Present,
but you look exactly like the Slayer." He was fast becoming
bored with the entire ordeal.

"Bingo, blondie. Now, come on. It's time to see the present."

"What's that?" Spike looked again around him, the muted greys
took on colour and morphed into familiar images.

"Willow and Buffy's dorm room." The Ghost replied.

"She's crying again? Is that all that girl does?"

"Hey." The spirit snapped. "It's rough. Let her grieve. Oz
left her."

"Yeah? And? I know that. What's so different about this?" He
crossed his arms over his chest.

"Do you remember this night?"

Spike looked around the room carefully. "This is after I got
away from the Commando Lab. I came here. That's what she was
wearing. Hey, isn't that considered past?"

"Just work with me. Christmas is almost here. Doing the best
I can. Look carefully at the bed." Present pushed him forward
gently.

He peered at the bed. "It's a knife."

"Right. She would have used it if you hadn't come along. You
cheered her up, even though you tried to kill her. You told
her what she needed to hear, Spike. She needs you."

"Where have I heard that before?"

Willow shakily raised the knife, staring at it in the light.

The spirit stepped toward him, tugging on his arm. "We need
to leave now."

"No. I want to stay. Make it right."

"You can't change the past or present, only the future."

"I think you jipped me on the whole past/present thing. This
already happened. The story is supposed to have me seeing what's
happening now. Not a few episodes ago."

"Well, I'm not Dickens, no am I?" She snapped, leading him
away. "Some vamps..."

-----
 
  "Hey, Spike. Wow, still hanging on to that bleached look. You
know it wasn't cool fifty years ago, it isn't cool now."

"The Powers That Be modeled the Ghost of the Future after Cordelia?
Either they have a hell of a sense of humour or they're mocking
me." Spike rolled his eyes.

"Don't knock the gig. Let's go. I have to show you the future
before I get paid." Bored sigh.

In an instant, Spike was confronted with the image of a woman
sitting at a desk. Dozens of books were open on the large table
in front of her. She was young-looking, but aged beyond her
years. Her jet black hair pulled tightly at the base of her
neck. A solemn expression sat on her face.

"Willow?" He asked.

"Yep. Willow. Never married, never anything. Swore off men
after Oz left her. She lost hope..."

Spike stared intensly at her.

"...especially since you weren't there..."

"...when she needed me." He finished, watching her, wanting
nothing more to step into the blurry scene and make everything
right. "I get it. So what do I do?"

The spirit shrugged, pulling out a magazine. "Don't know. Don't
really care." She glanced at her watch. "Oops. Half past a
decade. Gotta get you back."

Spike stared up at the ceiling, the images of the night haunting
him. He threw back the blankets. He knew what he needed to
do.

-----

"Willow." Spike whispered, nudging the sleeping girl. "Willow."

Her eyes opened slowly, fixating on the figure above her. She
drew back as he became clear to her.

"Spike!"

A hand clapped over her mouth. "Shh. Don't wake the Slayer.
A pile of dust, I don't want to be. I'm going to take my hand,
no screaming, capeesh?"

Willow nodded, eyes wide with surprise. He pulled his hand
away, smiling at her.

"What are you doing here?" She murmured, unable to pull her
gaze from his bright, blue eyes.

"I have something to say. And it won't make any sense and you
won't have any idea what I'm talking about. But you have to
listen, okay?"

"Okay." She nodded slowly.

He licked his lips quickly and began. "I'm not the best person
for you to go to. Not the nicest, or the humanist. But I'll
always listen to you, about anything. No matter how crazy.
I spent a lot of years listening to Dru's looney-speak. Got
used to it and all. Never be afraid of me. Except if you try
to interrupt a meal, but other then that."

"What is this about?"

Spike took her small hand in his, squeezing gently. "Something
happened, something you'd never believe and I can't even explain
it. Just know that I'm always somewhere, if you need me."

Willow brought his clasped hand to her mouth, kissing it gently
and smiling through teary eyes. "Thank you. It's like you knew
what I wanted to hear." She stifled a yawn.

Spike pulled away, patting her arm. "Go back to sleep. Tomorrow's
Christmas and all."

"Oh. I'm Jewish. I don't celebrate..."

He smiled. "Doesn't matter. It's still a special day."

She glanced over a the clock. It read twelve-oh-three. "It's
already Christmas."

Spike leaned down, placing a kiss on her forehead. A mark of
protection. "Merry Christmas. Don't forget what I told you
this one starry night."

He stood and turned to leave.

"I'll never forget." Willow whispered, her eyes closing, transporting
her back to dream land.

-----
 
  The End