Characters: Faith, Mayor Wilkins
Word count: 758
Spoilers: All of season 3 of btvs.
Summery: She relaxed in the tv specialness of the moment, a moment for her and not just look in on from the street, nose pressed against the glass.
AN: A Faith/the Mayor holiday AU. Unbeta'ed. Title taken from the christmas carol "The Christians and the Pagan's".
They stood on the patio of her new apartment, sipping hot coco out of blue snowman mugs and eating chocolate chip cookies. He's human shaped tonight, standing just as he did before when off the clock: dark suit, white shirt and tie folded in his pocket. From the patio, the star on the top of the christmas tree in town square reflected off the nearby buildings.
A few apartments down, a radio crooned Christmas music, something happy and slow. She took another sip of coco, the scent of chocolate mixed with the faint piny burning smell on the wind. She relaxed in the tv specialness of the moment, a moment for her and not just look in on from the street, nose pressed against the glass.
Well, almost perfect.
He tutted, setting his mug down on the railing. “It’s not Christmas yet."
"Yeah but, it's Solstice. That’s a holiday." Had to be, with the stores on main street closed and a bunch of the witches and mages and demons from City Hall taking the day off. Over his shoulder, trickles of smoke waved over Breakers Woods. "Aren't you suppose to be at some big sacrifice tonight?"
"I wanted to spend time with my special girl." He wrapped a cool arm around her shoulders, and she leaned against his side. The blood magic was good, but not perfect, He didn't smell human, more like a mix of the spicy dry incense they burned in his lair and a woody musk like an iguana. "Anyhoo, the folks they use are better after they've simmered a few hours."
The image of a huge caldron popped in head, surrounded by witches; the ones from city hall in their skirt suits and matching heels. Maybe they wouldn't even use a caldron.
She'd fine out soon enough, not letting him near all those magic people without back up. “How about a tiny one?" One shiny red box was knife shaped, hopefully to replace the ruined one.
"Try the flat one with the purple bow" With that, she was gone, through the living room with her killer sound system and big screen tv turned off so the large christmas tree cast blue and white lights all over the walls.
Under a pile of brightly wrapped boxes was the one he referred to. She shook it on her way back to the patio. Something heavy that slid around the box. He smiled at her when she came outside, her cue to rip off the paper and the thin box.
Inside lay a black leather coat with a pair of matching gloves. She whistled as she ran her hands along the leather.
“Try it on, lets see."
It fit like she'd been dipped in it. Gathering the lapels against her face, she threw here arms around him and he hugged her tight. She could feel the coiled strength,the almost electric current of magic raising goosebumps over her skin and knew if he wanted to, he could crush her like a orange, all pulp and juice. But he wouldn't. Not her.
“I have another surprise for you." He patted her back as he let go.
"Boys," he called out, and three figures in brown robes stepped to edge of the roof above them. A shiver dashed up her spine as she watched the robed figures raise their arms. One look towards her boss, grinning with his excited little boy smile, and she unclenched her fists.
Faster than smoke, clouds blotted out the moon and a cold breeze rolled through. She zipped her jacket and shivered for real as the temperature dropped. She didn't catch on until the first flakes of snow began to fall.
"I didn't think I’d continuing feeling like this, not after I changed. But I still got human sentimentality stitched around here like a old leather ball." He touched his chest, which isn't even where his heart is anymore. She must have looked confused, because his grin widened “Forget all that. If anyone deserves a white solstice, it's my girl."
The snow fell thick and fast, dusting everything in sight. It reminded her of last Christmas, only the freak snowstorm was for her and the gifts and the tree and the let’s-be-together was all for her. No more looking into other people happy christmases.
And no thinking of Joyce, with her silent house and her tiny tree and her tiny wreath just the sized for a headstone buried under the snow.
That, she was sure, never happened in Christmas specials.