Title: The Greatest Gift. . . Or Not
Summary: Christmas silliness. Xander gets a. . . unique present.
Rating: R
Spoilers: General Buffy season 5, and Angel season 2
Disclaimer: They?re not mine
Archive: Yes to any list that receives this
Date: December 21, 2000
E-mail: Saone@yahoo.com
Notes: As always, thanks and love goes to Charles

**********

An almost maniacal grin was stretched across Xander?s face as he surveyed the interior of his apartment. It was two days before Christmas, and he was happy. That in and of itself was enough to occasionally send the young man into a slight panic until he once again determined that, no, this wasn?t an alternate dimension, and yes, he was awake.

Of course, it wasn?t hard to pinpoint the reason behind this strange Yuletide behavior. Oh, the new, above ground apartment played a part, to be sure. But, the majority of Xander?s cheery demeanor could easily be traced back to the two other men currently occupying his living room.

In the two months since Halloween, Xander, Graham, and Angel had faced some interesting challenges in their relationship. Buffy?s reaction. . . Riley?s reaction. . . zombie turkeys at Thanksgiving. . .

But through it all the trio had managed to persevere, even riding through the roughest of storms - like when Graham ?accidentally? used the last of Angel?s specially imported hair gel. It took some work (not to mention thinly veiled threats on Xander?s part, involving conditioner bottles and depilatory creams) but the two men finally worked it out. That particular argument ended with Graham on his knees and Angel swearing if the mortal could just do *that* again he?d get a whole case of the stuff. Xander personally thought the soldier?s hair had never looked spikier.

Now, it was Christmas time, and Xander?s new home was decked out with just about every kind of decoration known to man. . . and a few that weren't, courtesy of Giles? shop. A wreath was on the door, various solstice trinkets were resting on end tables, and several sprigs of mistletoe were liberally positioned around the bedroom.

There were still things to be done, however, and the large undecorated tree by the shaded windows was a testament to that fact. Brand new boxes of ornaments were waiting, and from the state Angel was in, it seemed they would remain that way.

Xander?s grin faltered slightly as he was hit with a wave of sympathy for the six foot two vampire covered in strands of blinking lights. Wait. . . blinking?

?Hey, Deadboy, aren?t those lights supposed to be sol-?

A low, dangerous growl cut through the apartment.

?-nevermind.? Xander quickly turned his attention to the third man in the room.

Graham sat at the table, an intense look of concentration on his face, as he carefully wound a thin piece of wire around a bunch of velvet.

Xander?s eyebrows rose. ?Nice bow, Graham. They teach you that at Quantico??

?Getting decorations. Two hours. Craft shop.? The soldier blinked at him. ?You pick up some skills.?

?Ah.? Xander began to slowly back away from the obviously demented person wielding the large scissors and wired ribbon.

?Oh,? Graham?s voice stopped the younger mortal?s retreat. ?I almost forgot. This was beside the door when I got home.? Graham leaned over the table, picked up a brightly wrapped gift, and handed it to Xander.

Xander carefully took the package with both hands. ?Who?s it from??

Graham shrugged. ?Didn?t check.?

Xander pulled out the attached card, and promptly dropped the package like it was crawling with brimstone ants. ?Holy God!!!?

Trailing several strands of lights, Angel rushed over to his mortals. ?What?s wrong? What happened??

Graham, who had risen and instinctively put himself between Xander and the suspect box, said, ?Not sure. Xan??

Xander gulped as a shaky finger pointed towards the present.

Skillfully raising one eyebrow, Angel contemplated the younger human. When nothing else was forthcoming, the vampire sighed, picked up the gift, and read the card. ?To, Xander. From, Anyiiipe!!? The vampire jumped backwards as the present once again, ended up on the floor.

Graham calmly looked back and forth between his two lovers, who kept their eyes trained on the innocuous looking box. The soldier crossed his arms over his chest. ?Okay, explanations. . . anyone??

Xander looked up, his brown eyes wide with fear. ?It?s from Anya.?

?Huh.? The muscles along Graham?s jaw twitched almost imperceptibly at the reference to an ?ex?. Although, the soldier?s limited reactions to Anya were much better then the narrowing of eyes and grinding of teeth that happened whenever Darla?s name was mentioned. ?So, your former girlfriend sent you a Christmas present. That?s. . . nice.? Graham growled out the last word. If she thought she was going to get Xander back then she was. . .

?Nice?!? Xander looked disbelieving at the other human. ?Graham, this is *Anya* we?re talking about. You know, the woman who could write ?A Hundred and One Ways to Make an Unfaithful Penis Fall Off?.?

Graham grimaced. ?Okay, yeah. But you two broke up months ago, and as of this morning, everything was still attached.? The soldier couldn?t help the slight leer that accompanied that statement. ?What makes you think this is anything other then a nice Christmas gift??

?Experience.? Xander said sensibly.

Graham frowned. ?With Anya??

?With the Hellmouth.?

?He?s right.? Angel said. ?Even if Anya meant well, this town is still geared towards mayhem, death, destruction. . . there?s no telling what might be lurking inside that seemingly innocent package.?

Part of the soldier wanted to roll his eyes, but another, larger part, was more than willing to acquiesce to the over two hundred years of experience Angel possessed. Graham lightly pushed the box with the toe of his shoe. ?Well, it?s not moving.?

?Or leaking.? Angel added. ?Leakage is never a good sign. Freshly extracted hearts, decapitated animal heads, hydrochloric acid. . . the box always ends up mushy.? The vampire looked up into the pale faces of his companions. ?What??

Graham shook his head and, not for the first time, wondered about his. . . colorful taste in men. He turned his attention back to the box. ?I guess, one of us should open it.?

?Why?? Xander asked, honestly perplexed. ?Didn?t you hear Angel? Death, mayhem, death??

?We can?t just not open it.? Graham argued. ?Don?t you want to know what?s inside??

?Once again,? Xander said, enunciating every word. ?Death, mayhem, death.?

Graham folded his arms. ?So what?re we supposed to do? Just stick it in the back of some closet until it disintegrates, or the next tenant in this apartment finds it??

?Yes!? Xander exclaimed. Graham was finally learning.

?We could just pass it along to someone else.? Angel said thoughtfully. ?There?s this lawyer in L.A. . .?

?No. No re-gifting. It?s our responsibility. Whatever *it* is.? Graham was wearing his determined face. . . which, surprisingly enough, looked remarkably like all his other faces.

?Well, if you really feel that way. . .? Xander offered a nervous smile to the commando as he took a step closer to Angel. ?You can open it.?

Graham nodded, then bent over to retrieve the gift, missing the look of relief on the other men?s faces. It wasn?t that Angel and Xander didn?t care about what happened to their soldier. It was more a case of. . . tough love. But, hopefully not tough enough to involve any stitches.

Graham gently put the package on the dining table. Steady hands carefully pulled on the ribbon, causing it to unfurl and fall away from the box. The soldier hazarded a glance towards his companions who had distanced themselves by a few more feet. ?Thanks for the support, guys.?

?What? We?re still here.? Xander crept forward and quickly patted Graham ?s shoulder. ?And if anything jumps out and attaches itself to your face, we?ll pull off as soon as we can, ?Kay?? The young mortal hurried back to his peripheral position.

Graham shook his head and sighed. He gently ran his finger under the edge of the paper, peeling off the tape. The wrapping came away easily, and Graham laid it to the side and began concentrating on the box. He crouched down to table level and peered around the exterior of the object. It seemed normal enough. No wires, or ticking, or skulls and crossbones.

?Everything looks okay. I?m gonna open it now.? The soldier took a deep breath, and lifted the top. Graham stared into the box for a few seconds. He began to chuckle, then laugh. . . hard.

Angel and Xander warily watched as Graham practically convulsed with mirth. Tears streamed down the soldier?s face as his arms curled protectively around his stomach. ?It hurts.? He wheezed.

Angel slowly inched his way towards the chortling commando and whatever might be inside Anya?s ?gift?. He had never heard of an object that caused death by laughing, but a vampire known for his stoicness could never be too careful about something like that.

Angel got his first glimpse of what was nestled in an abundance of holiday themed tissue paper. He started to snicker.

?What. . . what is it?? Xander asked fearfully.

Angel pulled an object out of the box. Snicker. ?It?s a. . .? Snicker. Snicker. ?Nutcracker.?

Xander stared at the wooden soldier in the vampire?s hand. ?That?s not funny.?

Angel smirked. ?Oh, come on. You have to appreciate her sense of irony.?

?No, I don?t.? The young mortal?s lower lip began to inch it?s way outward, promising a full blown pout in a matter of moments.

Graham, still recovering from his happy fit, panted, ?Come on, Xan. Don?t be that way. We could try out your new present.? He and Angel helplessly chuckled again.

?Or, you two could kiss my ass.? Xander?s pout was suddenly averted by the twin looks of lust that spontaneously appeared on his lover?s faces. ?Or, you two *could* kiss my ass.? He grinned as the conversation was quickly moved to the bedroom, and Anya?s present was soon forgotten.

*****

Xander woke suddenly, his head shooting up from where it was pillowed on Graham?s stomach. Regardless of whether it was his five years as a Slayerette, or his twenty living on the Hellmouth, the young mortal immediately knew, with utmost certainty, that *something* was wrong.

He slowly sat up, gently moving Angel?s heavy arm off of his chest, and listened. All too human ears strained, trying to pick up any irregularities in the blend of normal night sounds. There were no overtly evil noises coming from the rest of the apartment. But Xander still had an overwhelming sense of unease, one that he knew could only be quelled by a good, old fashioned look around.

With a grimace, Xander began the tedious undertaking of getting out of his bed. Like always, the three men had simply collapsed in the last position they had found themselves. This habit sometimes made extraction from the tangle very difficult, especially if one didn?t want to wake the other occupants of the bed, and Xander found no reason to disturb his two lovers. . . At least, not yet anyway.

Oh, if there was a big, ugly beastie sitting on the couch, Angel would be more then welcome to take care of it. However, if the intruder was nothing more then a simple zombie, Xander wasn?t about to wake his companions for something he could handle himself.

The mortal quickly pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms (regardless of how exhilarating Spike found it, Xander was not about to fight potentially slimey things in the nude), and cast a baleful look at the comfy figures on the bed. Graham, dead to the world. Angel, just. . . dead. The young human shook his head, firm in his priorities. Vanquish evil first. Snuggle later.

Xander quietly retrieved the battle ax they kept by the nightstand, and then made his way out into the main area of the apartment. Everything seemed fine. The door wasn't splintered. The windows were unbroken. There weren?t any symbols painted in blood on the walls. Xander let out a deep breath and relaxed his hold on the axe, convincing himself it was just his sometimes overactive imagination.

The mortal was halfway back to the bedroom when he heard something to his left. It was a soft, scurrying sound, like something had just darted under the couch. Xander?s hands tightened on the weapon, his eyes narrowed. He was ready to deliver pain to whatever had gotten into his home, no matter what it was. But, wait a minute, what exactly was it? There weren?t *that* many demons who could fit under a couch. Enter Xander?s timid and oft ignored voice of common sense which stated quite plainly that it probably wasn?t a demon at all. It probably was just a mouse. Just. . . a. . .

Xander stifled a yelp, and in a very manly manner, hopped up onto the nearest chair. It was one thing to unflinchingly face down a six horned, eight clawed, Marandian Fighting beast, but it was quite another to have a tiny, furry harbinger of disease run across your foot.

?Angel!? He half whispered in the direction of the bedroom. ?Angel!? A scratching sound came from under the couch. ?ANGEL!?

A few moments later a sleepy vampire appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, followed closely by an equally sleepy commando. ?What?s wro-? Angel blinked a few times. ?Xander, why are you holding the axe and standing in a chair??

?Uh. . .? Xander bowed his head, and mumbled something.

Graham squinted at him. ?What was that??

?I said, it?s a mouse.? Xander blushed. Why couldn't it have been a nice zombie? ?There?s a mouse in the apartment. Kill it.? When no immediate action was forthcoming Xander rolled his eyes. ?Come on, Deadboy. You used to eat these things. It?s snack time.?

Graham?s face scrunched up. ?You ate mice. That?s just. . . yuck, man.?

Angel sighed. ?What, you?d rather I chomp down on the general populace??

The soldier thought for a moment. ?As a guy protecting the general populace, no. As a guy kissing you on a regular basis, yes.?

?Look, you don?t have to eat it. Just kill it!? Xadner said impatiently.

?There?s nothing to kill.? Angel announced calmly.

Xander looked disbelievingly down from his perch. ?What do you mean, there?s nothing to kill.?

?I mean,? The vampire?s features shimmered as he slipped into gameface. ?I can smell you, I can smell Graham, but that?s it. There are no other scents. You two are the only living creatures in this apartment.?

?Then what the hell is under my couch?!? Xander indignity looked at the offending piece of furniture.

Angel shared a pained look with Graham before turning back to Xander. His mouth opened to say there was nothing under the couch when the nothing that *was* under the couch darted out into the middle of the living room. Its brightly painted face sneered at the men, then it ran for cover under the Christmas tree.

Xander watched with clenched teeth as the soldier, and vampire took action. When they were situated, he said, ?Graham, the next time I tell you not to open something. . . you'd damn well better not open it!"

The soldier standing on the coffee table looked suitably ashamed. ?Sorry.?

?Okay,? Angel glanced around the apartment from his position on the couch. ?The nutcracker?s alive. . . Strangely enough, I?ve never been in a situation like this before. I?m not exactly sure how we should handle this.?

?Killing it should work.? Xander said.

?It might not be that-? Angel stopped and cocked his head. ?It?s on the move.?

?What?? Graham shook his head. ?I didn?t even see-?

?It?s fast.? The vampire said.

?So, where is it now??

Before Angel could answer Xander?s question Graham yelped in pain. A sudden flurry of movement around the coffee table had ended with a tiny metal sword being embedded into the soldier?s bare foot. ?Son of a-? Graham growled at the empty space where the creature had been only a moment before. ?Little holiday bastard!?

?Graham! Are you okay?? Angel called out, his concern overriding the ?duh?ness of the question.

?I?ll live.? Was Graham?s terse reply. ?Any idea where it- Xander!?

At the cry of warning, Xander looked down to find the homicidal Christmas present holding onto the edge of his chair. With a surge of rage, the mortal swung his axe like a golf club, connecting solidly with the creature?s head. The nutcracker went flying across the room, hitting the far wall with a loud thump, before sliding down to the floor, and. . . picking itself up again.

?Jesus!? Graham exclaimed. ?What the hell is this thing, part cockroach?!?

The nutcracker obviously was not pleased with that analogy. It scowled and ran towards Graham, who had no earthly idea what to do. . . besides telling the Major that dealing with animate inanimate objects needed to be added to the training sessions.

Suddenly, the door to the apartment burst open, admitting a slightly winded ex-vengeance demon. ?You!? The authority in Anya?s voice stopped the nutcracker cold. ?Stop that terrorizing this instant and come over here!? The wooden figure walked over to her and stood at attention.

The ex-demon smiled winningly at her gaping former boyfriend. ?Now, aren?t you glad I made copies of all your keys while we were still dating??

?Why. . . What. . . Why. . .? Xander put a hand to his head. ?Look, you probably know everything I?m trying to ask, so just go ahead and start answering.?

?Okay, first, let me just say that I?m really. . . very. . . sorry.? Anya said sheepishly. . . well, as sheepishly as Anya could get. ?This has all just been a big mistake.? Her explanation stopped as she caught sight of Angel and Graham, who both seemingly agreed with Spike when it came to evil fighting attire. Anya arched an eyebrow and said to Xander, ?Your choices in sex partners makes much more sense now.?

?Yeah, great, back it up.? Xander glared at her. ?Mistake? What do you mean, *mistake*??

?I mean, I accidentally mixed up the gifts that were laying around my apartment, and you got the wrong one.? She folded her arms and started tapping her foot. ?It?s really not *that* hard to understand.?

?Wait,? Xander frowned in confusion. ?So, you didn?t mean to send that thing after me??

?No!? Anya exclaimed. ?Of course not. Your present is right here.? With a bright smile she held out an oblong box, almost identical to the one that had contained the homicidal piece of wood.

The three men exchanged wary looks with each other as they slowly climbed off their pieces of furniture. Xander edged towards Anya and the currently benign Christmas accessory standing beside her. He hesitantly took the outstretched gift and said, ?Uh, I?m almost afraid to-?

?They?re socks.? She supplied.

Xander raised his eyebrows. ?Evil socks??

?No, Argyle.?

?Wait a minute,? Graham frowned at the ex-demon. ?If Xander wasn?t your intended target, then who did you mean to give that thing to??

?No one.? She said defensively. ?Actually, that gift was sent to me.?

Angel frowned. ?Who would. . .??

?D?Hoffryn.? Anya snorted. ?The girl he finally found to replace me turned out to be a complete moron who wouldn't know a fitting act of vengeance if it fell on her face and started to dance. So, he?s trying to woo me back.?

?Oh.? Xander?s eyes widened. ?Oh! And. . . have you been wooed. . . I mean, successfully??

The ex-demon looked pityingly at her former boyfriend. ?Xander, will you stop with that? You know darn well that if I had wanted to do something to you that was horribly disfiguring and potentially fatal, I would have done it by now, power center or no power center.?

Xander thought about this. ?That's true.? He grimaced at the homicidal wooden soldier by Anya?s feet. ?So, what?re you gonna do with that??

?I?m sure we can figure out some way to permanently destroy it.? Angel said.

?Maybe. Or, I could just send it back to the netherworld.? Anya?s lower lip jutted out slightly. ?But that would mean I?d have one less present.? She sighed. ?I think it?s going to depend on how many gifts I ultimately receive.? She gave the men a pleasant smile. ?One from each of you should do it.?

Graham sputtered. ?But. . . but that?s. . . that?s. . .?

Angel put a restraining hand on the soldier?s arm. ?Self preservation.? He turned back to Anya. ?Any preferences??

?Oh, I don?t know. . . something shiny and metal and jewelry shaped.? She smiled at them. ?Diamonds are optional.?

?Good thing.? Graham grumbled.

Satisfied that her new gift quota would be met, Anya picked up the nutcracker, and headed for the hallway, leaving three more than dazed men in her wake. The ex-demon paused just outside the door. She bent down and picked up something. ?Oh, yeah. Almost tripped over this earlier right before I rushed in and saved all of your ungrateful male butts.? Anya sent a pointed glare towards Graham before she read the tag on the nicely wrapped present. ?Angel, it?s for you, from Buffy. Oh, be careful where you put it,? She gingerly held it out towards the vampire. ?It?s leaking.?

**********

the end



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