"What do you mean we aren't having Christmas?" Dawn demanded, that increasingly familiar hardness setting in around her eyes. She jabbed the lever on the toaster down.
"I didn't say we're not having Christmas," Buffy said. "I just meant - scale-back, you know. More on the spirit and less on the spending. Could you pass the peanut butter?"
"So Merry Christmas Dawn, I paid the phone bill? That's the worst present ever." The teen's mouth compressed into a tight, disapproving line, and she slid the jar behind herself. "And there's not enough left. I'm having it."
"Dawnie, I drown funky vegetable things in hot lard for a living. The pay? Not so great." Buffy sighed, passing her hands back through her hair before setting them on her hips. She sucked in a thoughtful breath, hunching her shoulders. "We'll work it out, okay?" she finally offered.
"Yeah, sure," came her younger sister's flat reply. She turned to pull her bread out of the toaster. "Whatever."
* * *
"Can I show you anything?" A pleasant British voice broke Dawn from her haze and she looked up from the display case, half expecting to see Giles. Not that she really thought he would come back. Buffy and Willow had seen to that.
"Just looking," Dawn said with what she hoped was a cool, sophisticated sort of smile.
The man nodded, then leaned forward slightly and dropped his voice to say, "It's Clinique Bonus Time, you know."
Dawn glanced around the bright, crowded store, then back to him. He was actually really cute, with these big brown eyes and a pleasant, expressive mouth, and smooth sort of radiant skin. He was kind of ageless, too, like a movie star. Like he'd be around forever. And he was looking at her, really looking, waiting for her to say something.
"Yeah, I, you know," she finally said, gesturing, "saw the sign."
"Brilliant." And then he reached into the case and started pulling out all sorts of little pots and compacts and brushes. "I've the perfect shade of eyeshadow," he said. "Made just for you, I swear. No other eyes would do it justice. Sit there." He gestured with one of the little brushes and started around the counter, emerging just as Dawn slid obediently onto the high stool he'd indicated.
"It's a soft shimmer," he murmured, blowing a puff of air over the brush and then leaning toward her. His fingers touched her jawline to steady her head and she started a little. For a brief moment his skin was electric and something about him - but then it passed, and she was unsure if she'd felt it in the first place, if she'd really seen that moment of surprise pass over his face.
"Close your eyes," he said, his voice like honey, low and sweet. She blinked a few times, then tilted her face up and closed her eyes.
"The only thing you'll like more than this is the free gift," the man continued, still speaking softly, half-distracted as he brushed the shadow over her eyelids. "It's our new translucent powder. Gives your skin a sort of glow. There, now open."
When Dawn opened her eyes he'd lifted a mirror up in front of her. She stared into it for a moment, turning her head to inspect the makeup. Her eyes looked big and intense and just a little sad. Mysterious-sad, like she'd had tragedies. Like she was the sort of person other people would wonder about.
"Wow," she said, grinning and glancing up at him.
"Perfect, isn't it?" he asked, setting the mirror down and circling to the other side of the counter again. "You must try this lipstick with it. Here." He swiveled one of the standing mirrors to face her, passing her the test sample.
"Thanks," she said, glancing at his nametag and adding, "Ethan." Then she turned her attention to the mirror, though what she saw made her grimace and hunker down a little.
"I am here to help you be gorgeous," Ethan said, giving her a curious look at her sudden change of mood.
"Ah, I - really have to go," Dawn said, tilting the mirror a little to track her sister's reflection. Over by shoes - that should keep her distracted long enough for a getaway. "Thanks, though." The teen pushed the lipstick back across the counter, slung her purse over her shoulder, and strode off in the opposite direction of shoes.
"But you - forgot your free gift," Ethan said to himself, sighing as he watched the girl vanish into the crowd. A moment later his smile was back, though, and he turned to another woman lingering at the counter.
"Can I show you anything?"
* * *
"Okay." Xander clapped his hands together once, then strode confidently onto the tree lot, followed closely by Willow.
"Thanks for coming," she said. "I'm not so one with the Christmas."
"I think you mean you're not one with the manly hauling."
"That too."
"Well, that's what I'm for." Xander flexed one arm, feeling his bicep with the opposite hand and grinning. "That and looking pretty."
"Hey!" Willow said, her mouth pushing into a little pout. "What about me?"
Xander shrugged unrepentantly and said, "So, what size of tree for the Buffster?"
Willow's forehead furrowed for a moment, but he was looking off over the scattering of pines on the lot. She sighed, glancing over them as well. "Medium?" she hazarded, her eyebrows lifting hopefully. "Maybe we should've asked Dawn along. Not that she would've come," the redhead added glumly.
"Still mad?" Xander asked, starting down the nearest row. Without waiting for an answer he continued, "I sorta thought this would be a BuffDawn bonding thing this year."
"Buffy seems sorta lukewarm on the whole ho-ho-ho," Willow admitted, pushing her hands down into her jacket pockets.
"The Anti-Claus. I heard from Dawn about the bill-payage. I would say we should Secret Santa it, but Anya would have a fit. Cycle of commerce, blah blah blah."
"Yeah, she is sorta - oh, hey!" Willow's eyes brightened and she pointed to a roundish tree about Xander's height. "That's a likely-lookin' fella." Just as she was about to pull it out for further inspection, however, a heavily-gloved hand knocked hers aside and grabbed the trunk.
"Macy! Macy, here!" The interloper hauled the tree in front of himself, away from Willow, and lifted his free hand in a frantic wave.
Willow set her hands on her hips, saying, "Excuse me. That's our tree."
The man half turned, peering at her from beneath the fringe of blonde hair poking out of his stocking cap. But before he could say anything, another woman stepped into the aisle.
"Oh, Frank!" she exclaimed.
"Tom," the blonde corrected.
"It's darling. It will look So adorable in the foyer." She floated over to them, tossing rich auburn curls over her shoulder with an elegant flick of her wrist. "It's so sweet of you to buy it for me."
"But I'm not," Tom began. But the woman batted her eyes at him and dipped her chin and gave him a little dimpled smile, and he was suddenly nodding. "Oh, no, thank You for letting me, Macy."
"Macy?" Willow said, her forehead knit as she stared hard at the girl.
Xander's similarly confused expression cleared suddenly into shock, and he said, "Bracey-face Macy?!"
Macy's sticky-sweet expression changed abruptly and she shot Xander a look full of venom. Without another word she spun on her toe and flounced off. A moment later Tom was waddling after her, wrestling the tree with him.
Willow and Xander turned to stare at each other.
"That was - " Xander began.
"Uh-huh."
"And you saw - "
"Uh-huh."
"But last week - "
* * *
"Last week she was like totally Not Ms. Supermodel," Willow said, both of her hands fluttering as she leaned against the writing desk. "Not that I'm like Ms. Supermodel, but Macy Gunderson? She was like, you know, with the hair and the bad hygiene."
"What Willow's trying to say," Xander cut in helpfully from the chair beside her, "is she was on the butt end of the ugly scale. And had not yet discovered deodorant or combs."
"And now she's got hangers-on and everything. I saw two more on the way out," Willow said. She glanced at Xander, one of her eyebrows tilting up.
"What?" he said, setting the nail file back down on the desk. "I had a chip."
"What I don't get is how this equals a Charlie Brown Christmas." Buffy pushed a bit of hair behind her ear, glancing down at the straggly little tree at her feet. It had a kink in its trunk that made it look hunch-backed and a serious bald patch and a whip-thin top that barely cleared her knees.
"Well, she took our perfect tree," Willow said defensively, her forehead crinkling in a little pout. "And then there was this one and they were just gonna throw it away, and I thought, you know, we wouldn't be able to find Another perfect one, and maybe this one just needs a chance. A little blanky and some lights?"
Buffy nodded, smiling a little. "Thanks guys. But I have to get to work, so maybe you could do the sprucing of the spruce?"
"We're on it," Willow promised.
* * *
A week later a quarter of the needles had dropped off the tree and half of the rest were slowly turning brown. Willow's last-minute paper angel still flew crookedly at the top, but the few ornaments originally deemed light enough had been taken down, so there was just the angel and the lights and the old grey blanket.
Anya eyed the whole affair distrustfully from the couch, pushing the last sliver of a moon pie into her mouth. "You know," she mumbled through the dessert, "you should just get a new tree."
"Why do we need a tree at all?" Dawn asked, pulling a pillow to her chest and hunching around it. "We're not even having Christmas."
In the entryway Buffy closed her eyes for a moment, sighing as she pushed the door shut. "Dawnie, I told you, we're having Christmas."
"Buffy!" Anya sprang up off the couch. "I've been looking all over for you. You weren't at work, and you weren't here."
"I was - patrolling," the slayer said, running one palm guilty over her mussed hair.
"Xander's broken," Anya announced. "At first I thought it was me, you know, or maybe him! Or Christmas, people get all weird about the holidays, but half of Sunnydale is like this! Everyone's all vain and demanding! And it's great for spending, but I keep just Giving people things! It has to be a spell. Doesn't it sound like a spell?"
"Wait, what?" Buffy shrugged out of her coat, giving it a little shake before hanging it.
"I keep giving things away!" Anya said again, throwing her hands up. "For free! And sometimes they're expensive things, like muckwort root and Franlran crystal! People come in and I'm strangely attracted to them, and then I'm compelled to give them things so they'll like me and then I request that they pose with me in pictures."
"Oh." Buffy frowned, rubbing absently at a bit of dirt on the edge of her hand. "I, uh, kinda thought everyone was just extra-cheery. And extra-pretty, since it's Christmas you know, and it's all…magical." She wiggled her fingers a little. Then she nodded to herself with a small, humorless grin. "Spell, right. We should hit the books."
"I'll get Willow," Dawn offered, standing and tossing the pillow back on the couch.
* * *
Buffy stared down at the book, all the letters blurring together again. They'd been researching their phantom baddie for almost two days and they were still no closer to answers. At least Dawn had stopped asking about the stockings. They were packed away in the basement, in a box marked 'Christmas'. And in it Buffy would find the same white garland they hung every year and all the kid's books they never took out any more and all the ornaments, including the snow globe Angel had given her god, almost three years ago, that Christmas it had snowed, and she could remember that winter and how everything had seemed so hard and she almost laughed thinking about it now, thinking what she wouldn't give to be that girl again.
In the box Buffy would also find three stockings. And it didn't seem right to hang only two, but she couldn't hang them all. And every time she stepped into the mall she kept seeing mom-gifts, so she hadn't bought anything at all. And on Christmas night Dawn would want hot cocoa and Buffy dreaded that most of all because crying hurt now, it Hurt. It was a living presence in her throat, something with long claws that made it hard to breathe right. That made it hard to want to keep breathing and impossible to stop.
Something slammed and Buffy jumped, blinking quickly. Willow puffed a sheepish breath through the faint cloud of dust that had risen from her book.
"Sorry," she said. "Slipped."
The bell above the shop door rang and everyone turned.
"Wow, Xan," said Dawn as the young man sauntered in, throwing his jacket over one shoulder. "Very GQ. We did already rule out the doubles theory, right? 'Cause this is oddly familiar."
"I think we would have noticed by now, Dawnie," Willow said, pushing the heavy book aside and reaching for a slimmer volume.
"Right." Dawn propped her elbows on the table, her head cradled in her hands, and she watched Xander cross over to the counter. He leaned against it, saying something in an undertone to Anya. The shopkeeper frowned, but before she could reply Xander had turned away and pulled something from his pocket.
"Xan?" Buffy, also watching, lifted her eyebrows at him. "Is that makeup?"
Xander scoffed, flipping the compact open and lifting a flat, round applicator out. "No," he said. "It's powder aftershave."
"Powder aftershave?" the slayer said, disbelieving.
"Uh, yeah." Xander patted it on his cheeks and chin, making eyes at himself in the compact's small mirror. "Everyone who's anyone is using it now."
"Isn't that Clinique?" Dawn tilted her head, staring at the back of the case in his hand.
"Wait, everyone who's anyone?" Buffy stood, crossing to Xander and snatching the makeup quickly from him. She half spun away when he grabbed for it, eyeing the inside for a moment before she snapped it shut. "Looks normal."
"It's the Clinique bonus gift," Dawn said. "Right? The translucent powder? I want to try."
"You are not trying the possibly-cursed powder, Dawn," said Buffy firmly. "And how do you know about it?"
Dawn's mouth gathered, her eyes hardening a little. "There was this British guy, at the counter," she said. "At the mall. He was doing consultations and giving those out."
There was a moment of silence while Buffy and Willow stared at Dawn, then each other.
"A British guy." The slayer's eyes narrowed. "Kinda charming, Giles' age?"
"No." Dawn shook her head. "This guy was younger, maybe late twenties? Ethan."
"Uh." Willow gave the teen a concerned look. "The whole Ethan part with the cursing and the changing people sounds right. But he's old. Like Giles-old. Like an old friend of Giles'."
"Well this guy wasn't old," Dawn said, slamming her book shut. "I have eyes."
"Let's go, Xander." Buffy dropped the compact in her pocket and started for the door. "Will, stay here with Dawn?"
"You sure?" Willow's forehead crinkled and she twisted her fingers together.
"Yeah. I want you far away from crazy sorcerer man." Buffy pulled the door open.
"I'm coming too," Anya said, slinging her purse over her shoulder. She pointed a stern finger at Dawn. "Supervise Willow. And no freebies."
* * *
"I can tell you've been very naughty this year." Ethan leaned over the counter, smirking at the woman on the other side. She preened, tilting her shoulders forward and drawing her elbows in so the neckline of her sweater dipped lower.
"I know someone else who hasn't been nice."
Ethan straightened and twisted around, his eyebrows up. "Buffy," he said. "How nice to see you. And looking so - peaked. Recently-dead, weren't you? I have just the thing."
"Recently-jailed, weren't you?" Buffy glanced at the woman, who had straightened up and was backing away. "Excuse us." Then the blonde turned her attention to Ethan again. "So how'd you escape?"
"Please, that place?" Ethan rolled his eyes, though he was gripping the counter tightly with one hand. Behind Buffy, Anya folded her arms across her chest, glaring, and Xander peered into the makeup case with feigned disinterest. But Buffy couldn't stop staring at the sorcerer, at his smooth, pretty face and lean body. After a moment she shook herself, then tossed the compact down on the counter.
"And I suppose you had nothing to do with this?" the slayer demanded.
"Oh, that?" He glanced down at it, then smirked. "No, that was me. Brilliant, too, isn't it? Well, for the people who have it. Beauty, fame. Merry Christmas Sunnydale." He touched his fingertips to his lips, then blew a kiss at Buffy.
"Undo it," she said, unsmiling. "And don't think I won't start something just because this is the mall."
"She's right, you know," Xander cut in. "We brought a rocket launcher in here once. Though, Buff. He has a point." He held up one finger, wetting his mouth as he thought. "I mean, I was obviously meant to be gorgeous, and fawned over by many beautiful women. This aftershave is just restoring the natural balance. Maybe he really is good."
"You heard the boy," Ethan said, his mouth curling up. "I see my work here is done." He bowed and began backing away.
"I don't think so," Anya snapped. "I want my Xander back. Sure he's all muscular now and his funny little tummy is gone and his hair is all rich and luxurious, but I love funny-tummy Xander. The Xander who cuddles and gives me lots of orgasms using only - "
"Anya!" Buffy glared at the ex-demon, who huffed quietly. The slayer closed her eyes for a second, then turned back toward Ethan. Who was halfway to the exit by the opposite register.
The blonde vaulted the counter and sprinted after him, and a moment later she'd caught the back of his shirt and then his ear. Ethan yowled, grimacing and bending toward her hand.
"That's better. Now," said Buffy, "you're going to cooperate. Got it?"
* * *
"So he was really all old and hideous?" Dawn wrapped the tail end of the string of lights around her palm, then set the coil of them down on the table beside the grill.
"Not hideous," Buffy corrected, staring out across the back yard. "Just...badly scarred. I guess the Initiative was pretty rough on him."
"Good," the teen said quietly.
"That must have been some glamour." Willow toed the door shut behind herself, balancing a tray piled with cookies, graham crackers, chocolate bars, and marshmallows. "I mean, to work on that scale, and so complexly! It's really impressive. Er, in an evil and uh not at all interesting way, I mean." She furrowed her forehead, then gave Buffy a hopeful smile.
Buffy just smiled back, then started across the yard, saying, "Anyway, he got away. Again. After the thing to break the spell. There was all this smoke, and, well." Less complication that way anyhow, since he still registered as human.
"Slippery, isn't he?" Willow said, setting the tray next to the coiled lights.
"Who's slippery?" Xander asked as he and Anya stepped out of the kitchen.
"We're hearing the Ethan story," said Dawn, presenting each of the newcomers with a metal skewer.
"Oh. Heh." Xander smiled sheepishly, accepting his. "So, when's the fire?"
"Now," Buffy said. She stood in the middle of the yard, the spindly little tree at her feet. "Better get your marshmallows ready, it could go fast."
"I've got yours," Dawn said, jabbing two marshmallows onto each of two skewers as she jogged across the yard, the others following at a more sedate pace.
Buffy smiled, watching her friends gather around the little tree.
"Merry Christmas," she said. Then she struck a match and held it out. The paper angel caught first, and for a brief moment it was wreathed in wings of flame. Then Buffy dropped another match onto the tree, and it caught.
"Merry Christmas, Buffy," Dawn said, handing her sister one of the skewers. Buffy smiled, then stepped over to put her arm around Dawn's shoulders as she held her marshmallows near the fire.
"Merry Christmas, Dawnie."