SILENT NIGHT   by Jayne Leitch
   C. 1998

    Another Christmas under the stars...

    Xander Harris stared up at the black sky, trying to find patterns--or better yet, those ever-elusive constellations--in the stars. The air, which had been humid and hot during the day, now had a crispness of chill, and Xander pulled his sleeping bag tighter around himself. He quite liked this tradition; it was so peaceful out on the lawn, so quiet, so
comforting--

    His reflection was broken by the sound of breaking glass from the house, followed by an angry yell. Xander sighed, and rolled over so that a hump of sleeping bag lay between him and his house.

    Now that he thought about it, spending the night outside probably wasn't the smartest thing he could do, what with all the vampires running around town.  He clutched his stake a little tighter. Given the choice between vampires and drunken Harris family brawls, well... at least he could defend himself against vampires.

    How long had he been doing this? Ignoring the increased sounds of drunken fury behind him, Xander counted back through the years, replaying each Christmas Eve in his head.  Ten--no, going on nine years. That meant he'd been sleeping in the yard since he was eight.

    Xander shook his head in amazement. Nine years sleeping outside at night on a Hellmouth, and he was still alive. what kind of luck did he have, anyway?

    Again, his thoughts were interrupted by someone's voice from inside. It sounded a little like his mother, but--what was she saying? She wasn't screaming, which was a change--what on earth--?

    Without knowing exactly why, Xander crawled out from the warm cocoon of his sleeping bag and walked uneasily toward the back door. Standing on the stoop in his ragged sweatsuit, he peered through the window, wondering at the scene he'd find--

    A second later he was scrabbling through his sleeping bag for the stake. He found the slender wood in moments and grasped it tightly, then ran back over the grass and through the door.

    The vampire looked up at the sound of his feet and smiled nastily. "Well look at this!" it commented, glancing down at Xander's sobbingly drunk mother before tossing her onto the couch. "Do I get the whole family for Christmas?"

    "Jeff Carter, isn't it?" Xander glanced at his parents; Mom was balled up on the couch but she looked okay, and the step looked like he'd passed out in his chair long ago. Good old stepdad. "I went to your memorial, man. I thought you'd be bad enough to stay down."

    The vampire chuckled and spread his arms. "Couldn't leave without saying goodbye, Xand. Thought you'd be happy to see me."

    "Really." Xander held his stake up and watched Jeff snort derisively.  "Wonder why you'd think that, seeing as we haven't said boo to each other since the eighth grade."

    Jeff raised an eyebrow sardonically. "Boo!"

    Xander was ready for the attack. Jeff had been a football player in life, and the vast majority of his hulking weight had carried over into undeath.  Fortunately, the boy's fighting methods hadn't evolved much past run and tackle; Xander easily sidestepped the vampire's body and watched him slam into the wall.

    "Come on, man," he said as Jeff spun around to face him, snarling. "It's Christmas Eve. Shouldn't you be attacking the eggnog?"

    "There wasn't any left at the store," came the snide reply, "Seeing as your folks stole the last cartons!"

    Xander set his jaw as the vampire laughed. "I might not have the most sober parents on the block," he answered, telling himself to stay level-headed, "But at least they're not blood-sucking demons from hell like *some* people!"

    Jeff smiled, managing a fair amount of self-deprecation through his teeth.  "Speaking of blood-sucking..."

    This time, Xander wasn't able to move fast enough, and was pushed to the floor under the vampire's weight. He had a brief close-up of the wrinkles on Jeff's face before he managed to roll over, swinging his stake around like a club. The wood connected a glancing blow on the demon's shoulder, then bounced along the floor, knocking a stray beer bottle to pieces.

    Xander pulled his arm back in, feeling his knuckles cut across the broken glass--then froze as he heard his mother's slurred, semi- conscious voice:  "Now look what you've done. And after that mid-term report...stupid *and* clumsy."

    It took a moment to register that his opponent wasn't taking the opportunity to kill him.  Xander looked down at the vampire's face, hurt and confusion turning into pure, boiling rage.

    Jeff was laughing. His demon face had receded, and he wasn't even trying to keep Xander at bay. "Stupid and clumsy!" he gasped between giggles. "Isn't it nice to know that she recognizes you through the drink!"

    Xander felt a wave of humiliation heat his face, and he turned hurt eyes to the woman on the couch.

    His mother stared back dully, having pulled herself into an almost upright position.  "What did I expect?" she continued, too drunk to remember the vampire. "You're a big disappointment, Xander. A big disappointment."

    It was all he needed. Tearing his gaze from his mother's bloodshot eyes, Xander glared down at Jeff, forgetting about his stake. "Shut up!" he yelled, drawing his fist back then slamming it forward into the demon's face. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

    The blows, which wouldn't ordinarily have made any impact, surprised Jeff, and stunned him long enough for Xander to grab him by the collar and haul him to his feet. "What do you know?" the human hissed, pure adrenaline giving him enough strength to push the demon backwards over the coffee table. "You idiot! You *vampire*! You're worthless!"

    Jeff looked up at his former classmate from his position on the floor, the first glimmer of doubt forming in his mind. Xander stalked forward, walking on the broken glass as if he didn't feel it cutting into his feet. "You think you can come in here and laugh at me!  You--you undead guy!"

    Barely aware of anything other than his anger and shame, Xander smacked his stake into his right hand and aimed blindly. "You're not even fighting back," he finished, his voice hard as nails. "What a *disappointment *!"  With that, he rammed the wood as deeply into Jeff's chest as he could.

    And then it was over. Breathing heavily, Xander stepped away from the slowly settling ashes--only to feel the sharp cut of the bottle on his bloody feet. Swearing, he sat down on the coffe table and pulled off his socks, then staggered upright and headed for the first aid kit.

    When he came back to the living room, his feet bandaged and taped up as best as he could, his mother had another drink. She looked up muzzily as he took his coat from the closet and headed for the door. "Going somewhere?"

    "Willow's." He was only mildly surprised at how steady his voice was, considering the way his blood was pounding through his head. "I'm sleeping over."

    "Okay." It was insane, how she sounded like she was actually giving permission. "See you later."

    Xander nodded, in a daze. He'd just killed a vampire in his own house--who knew how it had got in--he'd saved his parents' lives--who knew why--but there was something else, wasn't there?

    He was just turning the doorknob when he remembered, and he called bitterly over his shoulder, "Merry Christmas, Mom."

    There was a pause, the silence filled by the clink of bottle against glass.  Then--"Merry Christmas."

    Limping alone through the dark, Xander made his way to Willow's.

End.

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