Disclaimer: A full disclaimer can be found here, but please be assured that none of this is mine.

Rating: PG

Summary: A prompt from my kyrieane. Spike and Xander, snow, chocolate and antique ornaments.

The Silence

Randy Sex Kitten

The dead of winter.

There’s a silence here that he never heard growing up. The snow seems to have muffled everything. No sounds of cars, people talking, movement… Nothing of the world. Just quiet.

Xander leans against the window, his breath fogging up the icy glass as he watches Spike move around outside. The trees are still; heavy evergreens weighed down with snow, their branches bent low toward the ground.

Spike kicks one and the snow flies about, covering him. He turns to the window, a maniacal grin on his face. “Xander!” he yells. “Get your arse out here!”

Xander grins and moves to the doorway, pulling on an over shirt, wool socks, heavy boots, gloves, coat, hat and scarf before opening the door. The contrast between temperatures makes him shiver slightly, he’s never lived anywhere so cold.

A moment to get used to the air and he’s off, weaving around bushes and small trees, scooping up handfuls of soft, powdery snow and flinging them at Spike. Hours later, he’s lying back in the snow; his head nestled in Spike’s lap as they stare at the stars.

Spike runs a leather-clad finger down Xander’s face. “We should get up, love. You’re all splotchy.”

An affirmative grunt from Xander and they fight their way up from the ground, wrapping their arms around each other as they stumble towards the cabin.

Inside, Spike pulls at Xander’s clothing, stripping him down until he is clad only in a pair of red long underwear and slightly damp socks. The fire is rekindled, oak and cedar popping and snapping, long burning wood for the long, cold nights.

Xander is pushed down on the rug in front of the fire, a mug of hot chocolate warming his fingers as his feet are stripped of their coverings, rubbed briskly and re-wrapped in old, fuzzy slippers.

Xander sips his chocolate as Spike begins to sing an old carol; antique ornaments dangling from his fingers as he decorates the tree.

The End

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