Title: A Sunnydale Christmas Carol
Part 3: The Ghost of Christmas Present
Author: Miss Witch
Email: MissWitch@witchesbrew.zzn.com
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A Buffy version of the Charles Dickens classic.
Disclaimer: Trust me, I own nothing. I don’t own BtVS, I don’t own "A Christmas Carol." I don’t even pretend to own them. Although if I did own them, Giles and Buffy would be much happier people.
Spoilers: Everything up to and including season 6 is fair game in this story
Distribution: If you’ve had my permission before, knock yourself out. If you don’t have my permission, you’ve just to ask.
Feedback: Does the word "Duh!" mean anything to you?
Chapter 3 – The Ghost of Christmas Present

Buffy awoke with a start. The room around her was dark as she sat up in bed. A glance at the clock revealed that is was 1:59 am. <Just one minute more.> she thought as she stared at the red glow. The time seemed to crawl by until the numbers changed.

"Two am." Buffy said, looking around the room. She was almost disappointed when nothing happened. Buffy wasn’t sure what she expected, but absolutely nothing hadn’t been it. "Guess it’s back to bed then." she murmured, laying back down on the mattress. Buffy punched her pillow a few times to plump it up before resting her head on it. Her eyelids had just drifted closed when they snapped back open.

A bright light once again illuminated her room. It wasn’t as blinding as it had been the first time, because the source wasn’t in her room. Whatever was glowing brightly was outside her bedroom. Buffy could see the light coming in through the crack under the door.

Slowly, she threw back the covers and padded toward the door. The light began to fade with each step closer she took. By the time Buffy reached the door, there was nothing but a soft glow streaming in. Hesitantly, she let her hand rest on the doorknob, unsure if she should open the door or not.

"Buffy." Unable to believe her ears, Buffy’s entire body stiffened with shock. Slowly, she turned the doorknob and peered into the hallway. The glow was coming from the living room downstairs. Buffy crept down the stairs, her steps slowing as the room came into view.

It was definitely her living room, but it had undergone a transformation that Dawn could only have hoped to achieve with her decorations. Garlands of holly were hung from the ceiling and the walls were covered in ivy. Mistletoe hung in every doorway.

There was a huge table laid out before Buffy. It was laden with a turkey and goose, and there was a ham hidden amongst the dishes. A heaping bowl of potatoes vied for space with all different types of pies. There were vegetable dishes and fruit bowls crammed in every available space.

"It’s ok, Buffy. Come closer." a soft female voice beckoned.

"Mom?" Buffy asked, her bottom lip trembling. Buffy’s eyes filled with tears as she stared at her mother.

Joyce Summers was dressing in a simple green velvet dress, white fur lining the collar and cuffs. A holly wreath rested on top of her head, and her feet were bare. Her face, however, was joyful, as if she was bursting with good cheer.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Present." she told Buffy. Buffy rushed forward and found herself enveloped in the spirit’s embrace.

"I miss you, Mom." Buffy said, her voice muffled. Joyce kissed the top of her head.

"I know, baby." she said. "But that is not why I’m here." Buffy pulled away.

"Why are you here then?" she asked suspiciously. Joyce grinned.

"Why, to show you all that you’re missing." she said, holding Buffy tightly by the hand. Suddenly, while Buffy and Mrs. Summers were standing perfectly still, the room and everything around it zipped away at an amazing speed.

Buffy caught glimpses of people moving through the streets, some finishing last minute shopping, some caroling, some simply enjoying the spirit of the evening.

"But it’s two am." Buffy pointed out, as she watched some shoppers zip by.

"It’s not two am everywhere." Joyce informed her. She smiled. "Ah, here we are." Their surroundings came to a sudden halt. Buffy’s stomach gave a slight lurch, despite the fact she’d hadn’t been moving.

Buffy looked around the unfamiliar and rather shabby surroundings in confusion, surprised to find Willow sitting on a dilapidated couch.

"Merry Christmas, sweetie." Tara swooped into the living room carrying a small turkey on a platter.

"It looks wonderful!" Willow exclaimed as she jumped up and took it from her. Willow set the platter on the table and helped Tara carry in the rest of the dinner.

"It’s so small." Buffy said of the turkey. Joyce watched the two young women setting the table with affection.

"What did you expect?" she inquired of her daughter. "Tara is going to school full time with no financial support from her family. Now that she’s moved out of the house, she’s had to pay for an apartment." Mrs. Summers gestured around the shabby apartment. "This is all that she can afford."

"But, she’s so cheerful." Buffy said of Tara, who was singing softly as she served up the meal. Joyce chuckled merrily.

"Of course she is." Mrs. Summers told Buffy. "Because she knows that Christmas isn’t about what you don’t have, it’s about being thankful for what you do have." They stood a moment longer, watching the lovers sit and eat. Buffy couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Willow look so happy. "Christmas is about being with the people you love, and the people who love you." Joyce whispered in her daughter’s ear. Some inexplicable emotion moved inside Buffy’s chest.

"At least she has a reason to celebrate." Buffy said, feeling sorry for herself. Joyce threw her hands up in exasperation.

"Time to move on then." she declared.

As suddenly as it had stopped, Tara’s small apartment was whisked away again. Almost immediately, they halted again.

"So what are you doing for Christmas?" a small blonde asked. Buffy spun around in confusion, trying to figure out who she was speaking to.

"I’m going over to a friend’s house for dinner." Dawn replied, casually. She popped an olive from her plate into her mouth.

"Is your sister taking you?" the blonde asked, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"That’s Janice." Buffy told her mother. "I’m not sure if I like her, she and Dawn have a habit of getting into trouble." Joyce just smiled and motioned for Buffy to listen to the conversation. Dawn was shaking her head.

"No, she has to work." she told Janice. Janice looked at Dawn in disbelief.

"Nuh uh." she said. Dawn nodded, leaning closer.

"She actually said ‘Bah humbug’ to me." Dawn laughed. "Can you believe it?"

"She didn’t." Janice disagreed. Dawn nodded solemnly.

"She did, and then said she’d like to bitch-slap everyone who said merry Christmas to her." Dawn and Janice laughed heartily at this.

Horrified, Buffy stalked right up to her sister.

"You are in so much trouble when you get home." she growled at Dawn. Mrs. Summers laughed.

"Dawn can’t hear you." she pointed out. Buffy looked at her mother in shock.

"Do you hear the things she’s saying about me?" she demanded, stomping her foot childishly.

"Are they untrue?" Joyce asked. Buffy had the grace to blush.

"Um, no." she admitted. "They’re true." Reaching out, Joyce patted Buffy’s cheek.

"Just listen." she ordered softly. Buffy turned her attention back to her sister.

"I’m kinda glad she didn’t come tonight." Janice was saying. "Your sister is so bizarre." Miffed, Buffy crossed her arms over her chest.

"I definitely don’t like her." she muttered angrily. Dawn, who was chewing, shook her hand in disagreement at Janice.

"You don’t understand." Dawn told her. "My sister’s had a rough life. In a way, I totally understand why she’s all Scrooge-like. Especially this year. But I love her, and I’ll keep risking life and limb by wishing her a merry Christmas."

Tears pricked at Buffy’s eyes, and she tried to wipe them away without her mother noticing. Joyce pulled a handkerchief from her belt and handed it to Buffy. Dawn picked up her glass of eggnog.

"Here’s to my sister, Buffy. For all her bluster, I know she loves me." Dawn motioned for Janice to pick up her glass, which she reluctantly did so.

"To Buffy." Janice echoed.

"See, you are loved." Mrs. Summers pointed out. Buffy shrugged as she dabbed at her eyes.

"Dawn has to, she’s related." she said sulkily. Joyce gave a secret smile and took Buffy’s hand.

"One more stop then."

Janice’s house suddenly disappeared, and Buffy once again caught glimpses of people celebrating.

"Was that Riley?" she demanded as she passed some solders in the jungle singing carols. Joyce nodded but merely said,

"No time to stop."

The scenery continued to whip by, and Buffy soon made herself nauseous trying to see everything as it passed. Finally, the landscape shuddered to a stop.

"Please, no more of that." Buffy begged. Her coloring was tinged a faint green. Mrs. Summers rubbed her back.

"This is the last stop." she assured her daughter. Buffy looked around her as her stomach began to steady. She was standing outside a small building. Although Buffy couldn’t feel it, it must have been very cold where ever they were, because snow was piled in the street and falling lazily around them.

Puzzled, Buffy turned toward her mother, but Joyce simply pointed at the window. Using her robe, Buffy brushed away the snow to peer inside. She could see some people bustling into their coats and could hear their cheerful voices, although she couldn’t make out what they were saying. The apparent owner of the home had his back to her as he hugged his guests as they departed. The door opened and their cheerful voices floated out.

"We’ll see you tomorrow then, Rupert?" a woman with an English accent asked. Buffy snapped to full attention. The man she was talking to turned to face the window as he answered.

"Yes, Grace, I’ll be there." he assured her. Buffy gawked.

"Giles?" she breathed excitedly. She turned to her mother. "Mom, it’s Giles. Can we go in?" Before Joyce could answer, Buffy darted through the open door. She stood next to Giles, studying him as he bid farewell to his friends. "He still looks tired." she commented to her mother. Buffy reached out to touch his face, but her hand passed right through him.

"We’re mere shadows, Buffy." Joyce told her, even though she knew Buffy wasn’t listening.

In fact, Buffy was following Giles around his apartment like a lost puppy. She followed him into the kitchen and watched him make tea. Just watching him perform the familiar task soothed her jangled nerves.

"I miss you, Giles." she told him softly. Buffy trailed him back to the living room, where Giles set his mug on the coffee table and pick up a stack of mail. As he sorted through the mail, Giles reached over and pressed the play button on his answering machine. Buffy felt her mother’s hands on her shoulders.

"This is the fifth time he’s listened to this message." Joyce told her. From the machine flowed the strains of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" being sung very badly. Buffy smiled, realizing it was the Scoobies singing. After they finished singing, each one, from Dawn to Anya wished Giles a merry Christmas.

"How come you weren’t a part of that call?" Joyce asked. Buffy stared as Giles, smiling sadly, picked up a picture sitting on the lamp table. It was one of her, Willow and Xander.

"Dawn asked me, but I was still so mad at him for leaving." Buffy said softly, as Giles traced her face in the picture with his finger. "It seems so stupid now." she admitted, her heart quietly breaking. Buffy wondered how she could’ve been so selfish and cold hearted.

"I agree." Joyce said as Giles stood and walked towards his Christmas tree. It was much bigger than the one he’d had in his apartment in Sunnydale. "You hurt him time and time again, and yet…" her words trailed off as Giles knelt beneath the tree and picked up a small wrapped box. Looking over his shoulder, Buffy could read the tag he’d attached to it.

Giles

"And yet, he’s always thinking of you." Joyce finished. Buffy sniffled back a sob. Joyce held out her hand. "It’s time for me to go." she told Buffy. Buffy turned and was horrified to find that her mother seemed to be ageing before her eyes. "My time grows short."

The clock on Giles’ mantel began to strike the hour.

"Must you go?" Buffy asked, clinging to her mother’s hand. Joyce nodded.

Bong! The clock struck one.

"I only had this time." Mrs. Summers said.

Bong! The clock struck two.

Buffy looked around in a panic. Giles’ home had begun to fade away, as did her mother.

"No!"

Bong! The clock struck three, and Buffy found herself suddenly surrounded by a thick fog. Spinning around, Buffy couldn’t help but remember what Kendra had said about there being three spirits.

Through the tendrils of the fog, she could see a figure moving stealthily toward her. Her spider sense tingling, Buffy reflexively checked all her pockets for a stake. Finding none, she turned, looking for a place to hide. She found nothing but fog.

Turning back, Buffy screamed as she found herself face to face with the third spirit.

:: On To Part Four ::