“What the bloody hell is that and what is it doing in my crypt?”
“Isn’t it fabulous? They had it up at the nail place and I just had to have it. It’s so festive!”
“I know! Don’t you just love it?”
"It’s flocked. And it’s pink.”
Harmony blinked at him, a sure sign that she was cottoning on to the fact that her enthusiasm, as usual, was not shared.
“It’s flocked. It’s pink. And, it’s got a sodding unicorn for a topper.” Spike dragged his eyes away from the atrocity to pin her with a look. “Don’t you remember our little talk about sodding unicorns?”
“But Spikey! It’s Christmas!”
“I am aware. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“God! I was just trying to do something nice and…and seasonal. I even got lingerie to match. But you’re such a scrooge!”
“First, fuzzy pink trees and unicorns have bugger all to do with the season. Second, Scrooge is much older than I am. Third…hold on. What was that about lingerie?”
Harmony smiled her coy, seductive smile that really should not be so charming. She was ridiculous, vacuous, and tacky. She was also playing with the ends of the sash holding her wrap dress closed, god help him. He took a deep breath.
“So. Harm. Pet. It’s gone midnight. D’you think I should open my prezzie now?”
She bit her lip fetchingly.
On Christmas morning, Spike stretched and looked around the crypt. Harmony was asleep beneath the absurd tree. A section of the tree lights were tangled around one of her ankles, still blinking. She was tousled, debauched, had tinsel in her hair, and a smile on her face. The cute little underthings were long gone.
He covered her with his duster, and put a throw pillow under her head before retiring to the sarcophagus. She was almost adorable when she was sleeping. Like a two-year-old.
It wasn’t the Christmas of his dreams, not by a long stretch. But the tableau, pink tree and all, did have a festive air. It made him feel…cheery.