Characters: Buffy, Angel.
Written For: Challenge 10: Mistletoe at sunnydalescribe.
Spoilers/Setting: First half of Season Two.
Summary: It’s Christmas Eve and while everyone else is having fun, Buffy is patrolling.
Disclaimer: I don’t own BtVS, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Joss Whedon.
A/N: Quadruple drabble.
Patrol didn’t stop for the holidays; vamps weren’t exactly religious so the only reason Christmas might feature high on their calendars was as a suitable occasion for a mass slaughter. Being demons, they relished committing atrocities on holy days, proving how evil they were, thumbing their noses at the forces of good.
So here Buffy was, on Christmas Eve, doing the rounds of the local graveyards to make sure none of the undead were rising. Fun, fun, fun.
She should be hanging out with her friends, or at home drinking hot cocoa with her mom, or maybe even out on a date. The kinds of things normal teenage girls got to do, girls who weren’t the Slayer.
Duty first, that was the story of her life. Slaying came before friends, before family, before schoolwork, revision, exams… Having any kind of personal life was at the very bottom of a Slayer’s list of priorities, squeezed into whatever small amount of time could be spared from patrolling and training and research.
Was she bitter about having no life?
Hell yes, but it didn’t change anything, just made her feel worse.
“Thought I might find you here.”
Buffy whirled, instinctively raising the stake gripped in her hand, only to relax as her brain caught up with her Slayer reflexes. “Angel! Don’t sneak up on me like that! I might’ve dusted you!”
Angel raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be quiet, I thought you would’ve heard me.”
“Yeah, I was… thinking.” Buffy smiled sheepishly.
“Oh, about how my life sucks. Everyone but me is out enjoying Christmas Eve and here I am in a graveyard.”
“Not where you want to be.”
“No. Although, things did just get about a hundred percent better.”
“Really?” Angel’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled like that, setting butterflies fluttering in Buffy’s stomach. “Why might that be?” There was a teasing note to his voice.
“You know.” She started towards him but he held up one hand to stop her.
“Don’t move, stay right where you are.”
“Why?” Buffy looked around herself. “Is there something…?”
Angel crossed the distance between them in a few strides, pulling her close and kissing her, slow and lingering, making her toes curl.
Pointing overhead, Angel grinned. “Mistletoe. I couldn’t resist.”
Buffy grinned back. “Mistletoe, huh? Guess we’d better make the most of it.”