Title: 'Twas A Dark Christmas
Fandom: Buffy The Vampire Slayer
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I bend to Joss Whedon's will and try my best not to murder his characters. Also, this is based off of the poem, 'Twas The Night Before Christmas.
Summary: Spike comes to make his new childe.
Notes:This was written for darker_spike's Dark Christmas Challenge.
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Only one creature was stirring, but it wasn’t a mouse;
The vampire crept through the small home with care,
In hopes to find a neck soon he could tear;
The parents were drunk, passed out in their beds,
While comatose snoring arose from their heads;
Then the vampire got stiff in his jeans near his lap,
He had peered into the whelp’s bed, who was taking a nap;
Then with a leap that made not even a clatter,
The whelp didn’t even rise to see what was the matter;
The vampire bit into the whelp’s neck in a flash,
Then the vampire held out his wrist and made a slash.
The whelp knew the gift the wrist would bestow,
So he drank until he was the color of new fallen snow.
The vampire went downstairs for a beer,
Now he would have to wait for his new childe to appear.
Spike the vampire looked through the cupboards quick,
He was trying to find things he could nick.
Then down the stairs the whelp’s mother came,
She stared at Spike oddly and asked for his name;
“I’m Spike, but it don’t matter, because your son, he’s a vixen,
Invited me here for Christmas dinner with the fixin’s.
Now don’t go thinking he was under my thrall,
He invited me here with free will and all.”
The mother soon began to cry,
For she realized it was her time to die.
So towards the her neck the vampire flew,
But he snapped it instead of biting her too.
Then there was a pounding that rattled on up to the roof,
The whelp’s father was up and stomping each huge hoof.
So back up the stairs the vampire bound,
To stop that bastard from clomping loudly around.
The arse was dressed in boxers and with one slipper on his foot,
He was so busy pounding; he didn’t notice Spike give him the boot.
The whelp’s father landed flat on his back,
He waddled and wheezed, then started to hack.
The smile that lit the vampire’s face was merry,
As he proceeded to beat the man until he bled cherry,
Then he tied the man up with a red Christmas bow,
It would be a gift for his childe when he did finally show.
The vampire looked at the whelp and traced the mark of his teeth,
Then he got in bed and pulled up the covers so they were both underneath.
Xander woke with a rumbling in his belly,
Something smelled good, kind of like jelly.
Then there it was muttering to itself,
Tied up in bows like Santa had brought it himself.
Xander shifted his head,
A bit disappointed his sire was still in bed.
So Xander licked down Spike’s body, quickly going to work,
Then the vampire awoke with a jerk.
He moaned as his boy nuzzled his dark curls with his nose,
Enjoying as his new childe suckled his hose.
Xander sucked good and hard until his sire came like a missile,
He swallowed, let go, and gave a small whistle.
Spike couldn’t help but laugh and say at the sight,
“Merry Christmas, my love. Now, let’s give your present a good fright.”