Still, it was a tough battle. And the last thing I wanted to do when we came back here to my flat was exchange gifts, but the others insisted. I couldn't refuse them, even if Christmas isn't until Friday. They certainly deserved a celebration. And as Willow said, it's not all about Christmas, and we are in the midst of Hanukkah, after all. And I rather liked the idea of not waiting until Christmas was properly upon us. Yuletide here in the Colonies is a barbaric practice, if you ask me. Which no one did, of course. Next year I swear I'll get my shopping done by the end of August at the latest. Still, it was worth the aggravation. Everyone seemed to enjoy their gifts. I certainly appreciate mine. A Dr. Who watch from Xander. I probably can't get away with wearing it to work, but I rather like the way the ends of that ridiculous scarf rotate to keep the time. A librarian teddy bear from Buffy. 'Stuffed, stuffy, what's the difference, right?' Her exact words. Cheeky, my Slayer. And a lovely new journal from Willow. I'll think of her whenever I make use of it.

By the time we'd opened our presents and ooh-ed and ahh-ed over them, we were all exhausted. I must have dozed off without realizing it. I woke up a few minutes ago, but I simply cannot muster the energy to get out of this chair. I suppose I should feel old, but a glance over at the couch shows me that Buffy is fast asleep herself, a delightful little snore that I'm sure she'd deny the existence of emanating from her exhausted frame. If Buffy is so tired, I can't fault myself for feeling the same way.

It's Xander and Willow I don't understand. They don't have Buffy's seemingly inexhaustible energy and yet they're still up and around. Actually, I suppose it's not surprising in Xander's case. He's in the kitchen and from the racket he's making I assume he's cleaning me out of everything edible. Rather like the Grinch, I suppose. I'm not sure why they thought I wouldn't know who he was when they insisted I watch the videotape with them. The Charlie Brown Christmas was quite enjoyable as well, though if I live to be one hundred I'm sure I shall never get the image of Xander doing that dance out of my head. In any case, where food is concerned, Xander is tireless. Willow is more of a mystery. I'm not certain what it is that's keeping her going. She hasn't even yawned in the time I've been watching her. And she's cleaning up the mess we made. How on Earth does she have the energy to clean? I don't even have the energy to tell her I'm awake, and she's cleaning?

No, wait, she's stopped cleaning. She's looking into the kitchen, and since she's got a better angle than I do, I assume she can see Xander. Make that I know she can see Xander, because she's wearing the same expression she always gets when she's watching him and he doesn't know it.

Xander is a fine boy, and if he survives long enough he'll be a damned fine man, but I truly do not understand how he can be so thick when it comes to Willow. Even a blind man could see the love in her eyes when she looks at him, and the pain when she watches him lust after other girls. It breaks my heart to see poor Willow pine for him so, but it's not my place to say anything. I've overheard Buffy discussing it with her on a few occasions, and she's told Willow everything I'd be able to tell her anyway. If she loves the twit, she has to let him know. She has her work cut out for her in that regard, I imagine. A cricket bat across the forehead might get the message across, but I doubt anything less would. Bit of a dunderhead, our Xander.

What's she up to now? What is it that she's looking at? Oh, the mistletoe Buffy hung above the doorway to the kitchen. Bah, humbug say I. What use do I have for mistletoe? Although, from the look in Willow's eye, I think she might have thought of a use for it.

I watch as her face sets in determination and she gets up to walk over and lean against the doorway. The poor girl's nervous. Shaking like a leaf. Anyone with half a brain could see that. Which I suppose means Xander won't notice.

"Xander?" Her voice shakes me from my thoughts, so fragile and uncertain that I want to go over and comfort her. But I rather think that would be a bad thing to do just now, so instead I merely sit and observe.

"Yeah, Will?" It's obvious Xander can't detect anything amiss. The boy is remarkable. He knows Willow like the back of his hand, knows everything about her, but he is completely oblivious when it comes to anything to do with her feelings for him.

Willow is licking her lips now, obviously trying to muster the courage to go on. Do it, Willow. You can do it.

"Well," she says, "I was just looking at this mistletoe here..."

"Giles has mistletoe?" Of course he hasn't noticed. He walks over to stand near Willow and looks up. "Huh."

Willow smiles shyly. "Yeah. But I was looking at it, and it occurred to me that it must feel pretty useless. I mean, it's been up there for a week, and no one's kissed anyone under it yet. It must feel bad."

Xander smiles as well. "Will, are you feeling bad for the inanimate objects again?"

That draws a genuine laugh out of her, even through her fear. Xander's always been good at that, I'll grant him that much. "Yeah," she says, "I guess I am. I was just thinking, that it might be okay if we... I mean, if you and I... Just to make it feel better, y'know?" She ducks her head, blushing scarlet. "Forget it."

Xander places a finger under her chin and pushes her head up until he can look her in the eyes. "No, Will, you're right. Be a shame for this stuff to go to waste, right?"

There! There it is, Xander, the hope and love in her eyes that I've been seeing since I arrived here. How in the world is it that you can't see it, you stupid prat? But you don't, do you?

I watch as he leans in for what will no doubt be a quick peck on the lips, something he must regard as no more than a duty to be performed for the girl he knows only as his friend. I watch as Willow licks her lips in anticipation. I watch as their lips brush each other briefly, barely qualifying as a kiss. I watch as Xander starts to pull back with that stupid grin on his face. I watch as...

As Willow puts her arms around his neck and pulls him in and presses her lips against his. As she twines her hand through his hair to draw him even closer. As she presses her body up against his in what even Xander must realize is nothing even resembling a merely friendly peck.

Good lord, I didn't know she had it in her. I believe 'You go, girl!' would be the appropriate response here. Now if only the boy realizes exactly what it is he's holding onto, exactly what it is he's kissing. She's the best thing that's ever happened to you, Xander, the best thing that ever will happen to you. Kiss her back, you fool! Don't just stand there like a lump. This is the most important chance you'll ever be given. Seize it! Seize her!

I'm afraid I don't hold out much hope for the lad to see the light. But I'm deliriously happy to be proven wrong as Xander's arms find their way around Willow's body and he starts participating in the kiss. Participating rather well, I'd guess, from the low moan that Willow's making. Or maybe that's Xander making it, it's hard to tell. And none of my business, I suppose. I shouldn't be watching this at all, really. I try to convince myself to close my eyes and give them some privacy, but I can't stop watching them.

Apparently their kiss isn't going to end anytime soon either. Bully for them. Making up for lost time.

Finally it does end, of course, and they pull back to look at one another. Willow's face is a mixture of exhilaration and terror, Xander's a mask of shock.

"What..." He has to stop to catch his breath and try again before he can speak. "What was that?"

"Kiss." Her voice is low. Shy. Scared.

"I know that, Will, but that's not the kiss I was expecting."

"You didn't like it?" God, she sounds like her heart is breaking.

"No! That's not what I meant. I liked it, I liked it a lot. But it was..." He stops, searching for the correct word.

"Scary?" She's always finishing his sentences for him, why should now be any different?

His face softens. "Yeah. Scary. But in a good way."

"Really?" I want to cry at the hope in her voice.

"Really." He pauses. "Why did you do that, Willow?"

She ducks her head for a moment, then raises it to look him in the eye. "I've wanted to do that for a long time, Xander."

"You have?" I barely contain a laugh at the surprised look on his face.

"Yeah, I have. You really didn't know, did you?"

He shakes his head. "No clue, Will. Cross my heart, I had no idea you felt that way. Wow."

The fear is back on her face and in her eyes, which confuses me at first. But I understand as soon as she speaks. "Well, now that you know, what do we do?"

He shakes his head again. "I'm not sure." Her face starts to crumple until he goes on. "But one thing I'd like to try is kissing you again." He grins. "I'd really, really like to try that again."

She grins back at him. "I think that can be arranged."

As they put their arms around each other and move in for another kiss, I close my eyes and feel myself drifting back to sleep. My last thoughts as the darkness claims me are that Saint Nicholas came a little early for Xander this year. And if this is only one of Willow's Hanukkah presents, I'll wager that she can't wait for the other seven. Good for Xander. Good for Willow. Good for all of us. And God bless us, every one.