Stille Nacht by Amy
Dawn heard the doorbell ring, but she didn't move to get it.
She didn't need to. Buffy would be doing it. Just like Buffy always did, like, everything.
But Dawn didn't want to, anyway. Not anymore. None of that stupid little kid door-getting stuff. After all, she was practically an adult now. Sixth grade. Her last year at Sunnydale Elementary. She wasn't just Buffy's little sister anymore. In nine months, she'd be in middle school.
Kids in middle school could stay out way later- like, til nine o'clock. They could listen to music with Parental Advisory labels, and go to PG-13 movies, and have parties with boys who came and did things besides sneaking under the table and tying you shoelaces together. They could even go to the Bronze.
Dawn had wanted to go to the Bronze since they'd moved to Sunnydale, but Mom said not until she was in, like, college, so even though Buffy was there practically every night, Dawn had to stay home.
Dad totally would have let her go, but Mom got custody, which sucked. Weren't divorced parents supposed to let their kids get away with murder?
Dawn was probably going to die having never even been kissed. Especially since this was Sunnydale, and she'd probably die before she even hit high school.
And right now, one of Buffy's friends was probably here on some, like, slaying emergency, and Dawn was still stuck decorating the tree.
Buffy did this weird thing sometimes, where she totally enjoyed helping Mom make California into the center of Christmas cheer that you'd get in, like, a movie about elves, or something. Dawn was pretty sure she did it to embarrass her.
So whereas Dawn thought they could make the tree cool this year, getting rid of the stupid baby ornaments and just putting up red and silver balls, Buffy and Mom both insisted on including, like, everything. Even the stupid snowman she'd made out of cotton balls in third grade. And they outvoted her, two to one, on the top of the tree. It had to be the stupid star again, even though the angel was so much cooler.
Life was so unfair. If she lived with Dad? She would totally have been allowed to choose.
And now Mom wasn't even noticing to her carefully organized sulking, because she was paying attention to Buffy's friend. Of course. And then Buffy's friends would get to stay for dinner and presents and she'd have to give them one of the gifts she'd spent, like, days making for people who mattered to her, and instead they'd go to someone who'd either toss it or see it as the adorable thing that Buffy's baby sister made.
Dawn's friends could never stay for Christmas dinner.
Dawn turned carefully, like she wasn't really interested in who was here, or whatever. Because she wasn't. She didn't care about Buffy's friends anymore. Not even if it was Xander. Not even if he had his cool hair again.
"Oh, that is so thoughtful!" Mom was saying.
Oh, no. It was Faith. That was worse than anything. Even worse than Cordelia being here, so that Xander wouldn't pay attention to her and Buffy would be working extra-hard to be the Cool One. No, it had to be Faith, who Mom would lavish with all the Slayer Daughter attention that went to everyone within a three-mile radius who wasn't currently Dawn, and Buffy would joke around with in this way that never included Dawn, like, at all. Dawn knew what they were talking about, but she had to pretend she didn't, which was totally the worst, but if Mom knew that she knew then she wouldn't be allowed to stay in the room whenever Faith came over.
"Hey, Dawnie," Faith said.
Dawn turned like she hadn't seen her before. Mom was gone, towards the kitchen again, probably. And Faith stood there in her place. "Oh, hi," she replied casually. "Merry Christmas."
Faith grinned. "Santa bring you craploads of gifts yet?"
"Faith!" Buffy protested. "Watch your language in front of my baby sister!"
"I'm not a baby anymore," Dawn reminded her. "I'm eleven. And anyway, I don't believe in Santa."
Faith started laughing, like it was funny or something. "I gotta say, B, I love your sister. She's a piece of work."
"Of course you love her," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. "You don't have to live with her."
"We could trade," Faith offered with a wicked grin "You can take the crappy-"
"Faith!"
"-motel room, and the creepy landlord, and I'll take the gorgeous house, and the fabulous Mom- who, by the way, makes the best mashed potatoes on the planet- and the adorable little sister, and the vampire just waiting to get jiggy with you."
"Get jiggy with me?" Buffy repeated, with this disapproving little laugh. Like she didn't listen to her Will Smith CD, like, all the time.
Dawn turned from her spot by the tree, trying to bury the handmade ornaments behind the thickest branches. "I'm not adorable," she said. "Kittens are adorable. Toddlers are adorable. That stupid picture of Buffy naked in the tub from when she was, like, two is supposedly adorable. I'm not adorable. I'm practically a teenager."
"Well, she got one thing right," Buffy said. "Definitely not adorable."
Dawn stuck out her tongue. She might be being mature, but she still wasn't going to let anything like that slide.
"Where is this picture?" Faith teased.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "You know, I'm gonna go upstairs and get your gifts. Excuse me."
Dawn stuck her tongue out again, this time at her sister's retreating form. Then she went back to the tree.
"What are you doing?" Faith asked.
"Redecorating," Dawn said calmly.
"Should I ask why, or am I just stupid not for knowing?"
Dawn had a lot of answers to that, but Faith was, like, eighty billion times more super-powerful than she was. So she just shrugged. "They're babyish."
"No, they're not," Faith said.
"Are too." Dawn turned away from Faith to stare down at the one she held. It was a stupid porcelain cherub, done all in pastels. Dad had gotten it for her on her fourth birthday, and she'd been so excited, because Buffy had one just like it. When she had tried to put them together on the tree, Buffy got angry, and they'd started fighting, and somehow Buffy's ornament had fallen off the tree and shattered. Buffy had been so mad at her that day. "They're just stupid memories," she said.
"I wish I had stupid memories like this," Faith said. "We never did Christmas at my place. With my mom, I mean."
"You're lucky. Mom goes crazy for this stuff. The tree, the stockings, the yule log, the nog…"
"Yeah, we had the nog. Not much else, though."
"Nog's good, though." Dawn smiled despite herself. "All that you really need. None of this tree crap."
"Hey, watch the language," Faith said. "Your sister's going to blame me."
"I've heard the word crap before you said it tonight," Dawn said, which was true. She'd heard it other times that Faith had visited, also.
Faith shrugged. "All I'm saying is, this other crap is pretty good. You get the tree, the stockings, the presents..."
"Everyone gets presents for Christmas, though," Dawn said. "Even, like, poor people. People give them stuff."
"We never really did presents," Faith said. "We spent the present money on more nog."
"That must have sucked," Dawn said softly.
"Language," Faith said immediately. And then, softer, "Yeah. I guess it kinda did."
"I'm sorry," she said uncertainly. What was she supposed to say in this situation? This was so out of her element. Why couldn't Faith be telling her about, like, a lip gloss crisis? Dawn was totally qualified to deal with that.
"Hey. No frowning. It's Christmas." Faith grinned again. "I got something for you too, you know."
"Is this crappy also?" she asked, eyeing Faith carefully.
"Probably. But I at least tried for you."
Dawn smiled. "Thanks, Faith."
"No problem."
"Can I open it, like, now? Or-"
"Yeah, go for it."
Dawn opened it carefully. The wrapping paper was really cool - not babyish, like what Mom got, or really flashy, like what Dad sent, but it was nice. She folded the paper and put it to the side, just like she'd seen Buffy do. Then she looked at the gift.
It was a book. Nothing expensive, nothing obscure, nothing even hard to get. Just a journal. A diary.
Exactly what she'd wanted.
She'd give Faith a present too. Maybe the one she was going to give to Dad's girlfriend.
She threw herself at Faith suddenly, hugging her tight. "Thank you," she said.
Faith seemed taken aback. Of course. But not, Dawn realized as she hurriedly pulled away, because Dawn was uncool. Dawn's face was still bright crimson, but she knew, somehow, that Faith wasn't, like, mad at her or anything.
"Hey," Dawn said. "I have your gift upst-"
And then, of course, Buffy came in. Ruining everything. Because she's Buffy, and that's what she does, or whatever.
"I just need you to stay with Mom and Dawn in case he comes back," she said.
"Don't say excuse me or whatever," Dawn said. "And I don't need a baby-sitter."
"Dawn, could you please just, like..." Buffy trailed off, like she couldn't find the words to insult her sister well enough. "Faith? Can you?"
"Yeah, I'll play watchdog. I don't really get it, though."
"I'll explain later. Everything. I promise."
"Even to me?" Dawn demanded, but Buffy didn't answer. She just opened the door and left. Which was, like, so typical.
Faith looked concerned, though. "Watch your back," she called to Buffy, although of course she didn't turn around or say thank you or anything.
"She will," Dawn told Faith confidently.
"Really?" Faith was smiling, sort of, but it wasn't like she was laughing at Dawn, so it was okay.
"Yup." Dawn smiled back at her. For the first time all night, she felt really grown-up. Almost like she was in middle school. Like she was in high school, even. "I promise."