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The Next One, With No Snow (Dec. 24th, 1999)by the Mad Poetess (rated PG)
"The hell you doing out here, Harris?" Out here, thermos of eggnog beside his sleeping bag. Refreshing holiday treat and handy blunt instrument. He doesn't use it. Yet. "The hell do you care, Spike? I untied you; take off. Bugger. Sod. Whatever you English types do." Instead, Spike drops down. Steals a cookie, faster than Xander can smack. "Why bother? Can't bite, can't fight." "My heart bleeds, except not. Have the bed, then. Merry Christmas." "Them upstairs playing Carol of the Broken Bottles all night? Not bloody likely." "And now you know what the hell." "...right. Pass us the nog."
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the end
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