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Gift of the Glib

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"So, d'you think she'll like it?"

The hopeful look on Spike's face made Dawn feel almost bad for him.

Almost.

She dribbled some perfume onto her wrist, sniffed at it and made a face.

"It's kind of musky. Buffy only likes flowery perfumes." Yeah, right. "She's, like, so uncool that way."

Spike's face fell. "Bugger. S'pose I'd better nick her something else, then."

Dawn stayed bland and innocent. "I guess."

"Oh well." He shrugged black leather shoulders. "You keep it, then, Niblet. I got no use for it."

Dawn slipped the perfume bottle into her coat pocket. "Gee thanks, Spike!"

*

"So, d'you think she'll like it?"

Spike's expression begged her to say yes.

Dawn held the bracelet at eye-level. Cute. Way too cute for Buffy. Also, if it snagged on something during slayage, that could be dangerous, right? So really Dawn was doing her a favour.

"Uh-uh. Gold reminds Buffy of Angel. Don't go there, Spike. I mean, really."

Spike frowned. "Bloody right I won't. What did she see in him? Wanker."

Off Dawn's stare, "Which means nothing bad. You keep it, Niblet. Just don't tell the Slayer I said that."

"Sure." Dawn slipped the bracelet into her coat pocket.

*

"So, d'you think she'll like it?"

Spike looked about ready to cry this time.

Dawn regarded the silk scarf critically. Pretty, but kind of mom-ish.

As it happened, she still had Mom's present to buy, and no money left.

She sighed. "Green is so not Buffy's colour."

Spike's shoulders slumped. "Bloody hell."

Dawn waited. Nothing. Finally, she ventured, "So, can I keep it?"

"Hmm," Spike said, lighting a cigarette. "I dunno."

Uh-oh.

But Spike was grinning at her. "Sneaky little chit, aren't you, Niblet? I like that in a girl. Have a very merry Christmas on me. You deserve it."