TITLE: Sing a Song of Joy
SERIES: Ice and Fire (Part 12/12)
AUTHOR: Kerry Blackwell
DISCLAIMER: All things Buffy belong to Joss Whedon, UPN, the WB, FOX and
Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. I own only my genius
(yeah, right!)
FEEDBACK: Well, I'm certainly not going to complain! :-)
Joyce was sitting at one end of the couch, Miri on her lap and an injured looking teddy bear on Miri's. Dawn sat beside her mother, talking in a low, rapid voice. Gunn was turning a long, narrow dagger in his hands as he talked to Angel, while Brianna sat and listened.
Buffy and Giles were talking with Willow and Tara, at that moment laughing over something Tara had just said. Joy and Hazel were part of the group, but appeared to be having their own conversation.
Wesley's attention was most caught by the young man sitting on the floor beside the fire, playing patty cake with a toddler who had his grandfather's distinctive eyes. Fred touched him on the arm, and he looked back to see she was smiling.
"That's Wesley," she whispered with a nod. "I'm his godmother, so I guess that makes you his godfather."
"Oh, my God!"
The voice was Cordelia's. She'd seen them standing there, and she was running across the room before she'd even finished speaking. She barrelled into Wesley's arms, almost knocking him over, and hugged him.
"It's really you," she muttered. "You're really here."
"Yes," Wesley agreed a little inanely, discovering that having been dead for thirty years did not give one any further wisdom when it came to dealing with Cordelia.
Eventually, she stepped back again. "I _am_ glad you're solid, ghost man," she said with a shaky laugh. "I know Joyce is, but it would have been kind of embarrassing to have fallen right through you."
"Not to mention painful," Fred added helpfully.
"Mmm," Cordelia agreed, looking at her friend.
Fred had a glow about her that had been missing for years, and a light in her eyes that made Cordy positive she didn't want to know for certain what the two of them had been doing for the last hour. The important thing was that it was Christmas - and Fred was happy. Really happy, the light inside her spilling out onto everyone else in the room.
Cordelia found herself pushed aside by Angel and Gunn. Wesley disappeared under their combined assault, only reappearing when Fred stepped in to rescue him from his friends.
"Wesley has to meet Wesley," she insisted, pulling her husband towards the young man sitting with the child on his knee.
Wesley Giles would have moved Jeremy and stood up, but the other man shook his head and sank to his knees on the carpet. For a long moment he simply looked, then he slowly began to smile.
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Wesley," he said almost formally. Then he shook his head and the formality slipped away. "I can't really believe someone would choose to name their child after me."
"Especially when that someone was me," Buffy added ironically.
Wesley-the-elder looked up at her. "We didn't exactly get off to the best of starts, did we, Buffy?"
"No," she agreed, seeing in her mind's eye the stuffy, inexperienced young man who had arrived in Sunnydale to replace Giles. Even then, long before she had realised she loved her Watcher, let alone that one day she might fall _in_ love with him, she had known that no-one could ever replace Giles. And she had bitterly resented the man who had been sent to try. Not a good start at all.
"But we all grew up in the end," she added.
"Eventually," he agreed.
Buffy smiled. "I'm glad we had the chance to become friends before..."
"Before I died," Wesley finished. "You don't have to be afraid to say it. I died."
She nodded. "So did I," she said thoughtfully. "But I came back."
Wesley shrugged. "So did I. But we've only got today, Joyce and I." He looked seriously at Buffy. "You made good use of your extra time. You and Mr Giles both."
He looked up at the other ex-Watcher. "You have helped to make the world better. You and Buffy, and through your children and your friends and all the lives you have touched." He suddenly looked vaguely embarrassed. "I was charged to give you that message."
"And I'm to tell you you're loved. All of you." Joyce smiled. "And with our messages delivered, we're allowed to stay for the rest of the day."
"All day?" Dawn breathed.
"Until midnight," her mother promised.
Joy appeared, carrying her father's guitar. "So let's make the most of it. Dad, play for us?"
Giles took the guitar automatically. It was a long-established tradition by now - he played and everyone sang, regardless of how good or bad they might be. Which meant Joy's rich tones mingled with Angel's less than perfect singing, Miri's enthusiasm made up for the fact she didn't know the words, and Tara was quite happy to sing a duet with Gunn, who couldn't hold a tune to save himself.
"What should we start with?" he asked the room in general. He turned to his mother-in-law, still finding that a strange concept to grasp completely. He had a mother-in-law, even if it was only for today.
"Joyce? Your choice."
She looked blank for a moment. "O Come All Ye Faithful?" she offered finally.
"I can do that," Giles agreed with a nod.
He strummed a few chords and started the first line alone. He was soon joined by the other Latin speakers in the room - Angel, Spike, both Wesleys, Tara, even Willow despite her constant reminders that she was Jewish.
_Adeste Fideles, Laeti triumphantes; Venite, venite in Bethlehem. Natum videte Regem angelorum. Venite adoremus, venite adoremus, venite adoremus, Dominum_
He switched to English and the rest of the room joined in.
_O come, all ye faithful, Joyful and triumphant, O come ye, O come ye, to Bethlehem. Come and behold Him, born the King of angels; O come, let us adore Him, O come, let us adore Him, O come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord.
Sing, choirs of angels, sing in exultation; O sing, all ye citizens of heaven above! Glory to God, all glory in the highest; O come, let us adore Him, O come, let us adore Him, O come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord._
Joyce was smiling as the last note died away, and Giles was pleased she'd enjoyed her choice. It was one of his favourites, too. He had learned the words from his grandmother - all in Latin of course - when he was Miri's age. He had been quite surprised when he had discovered that most people sang the lovely old carol in English.
As he let his hand drop from the neck of the guitar, Buffy caught his fingers in hers and lifted them to her lips. "Beautiful, love," she said softly.
He smiled back at her.
"Next?" he asked.
Miri sat up straighter on Joyce's knee. "Snoopy's song," she called. "Snoopy, Snoopy, Snoopy."
Giles groaned. "Please, no."
"Choose something else, Kitten," Susan said firmly.
Miri shook her head. "Snoopy," she insisted mulishly.
"Oh, let's sing it for her," Hazel said easily. "It's Christmas, and it's not like none of us know the words. It _still_ gets played to death every year."
"I am _not_ singing Snoopy's Christmas," Giles insisted. "I still have some dignity left."
Wesley laughed. "No, Dad, you don't. We stripped that away from you years ago." He grinned across at his daughter. "Go on, Miri. You start."
Miri launched into the first line, volume winning out over accuracy, Hazel singing with her. Her parents and aunts soon joined in, and by the time the first chorus came round, even the older generation was singing. Giles had an anguished look on his face, quite unaware that Angel and Fred's Wesley were wearing exactly the same expression. But they all sang.
_ The news had come out, in the First World War, The bloody Red Baron was flying once more. The Allied Command ignored all of its men, And called on Snoopy to do it again.
T'was the night before Christmas, 40 below, When Snoopy went up in search of his foe. He spied the Red Baron, fiercely they fought, With ice on his wings Snoopy knew he was caught.
Christmas bells, those Christmas bells, Ring out from the land. Asking peace of all the world, And good will to man.
The Baron had Snoopy dead in his sights, He reached for the trigger, to pull it up tight, Why he didn't shoot, well, we'll never know, Or was it the bells from the village below?
Christmas bells, those Christmas bells, Ringing through the land. Bringing peace to all the world, And good will to man.
The Baron made Snoopy fly to the Rhine, And forced him to land behind the enemy lines. Snoopy was certain that this was the end, When the Baron cried out, "Merry Christmas, my friend!"
The Baron then offered a holiday toast, And Snoopy, our hero, saluted his host, And then with a roar they were both on their way, Each knowing they'd meet on some other day._
"And that is _not_ to be sung again for another 365 days," Giles said firmly, as Miri chuckled with delight.
"Your turn to chose, Dad," Brianna said quietly. "What do _you_ want to sing?"
Giles didn't have to think about it very hard. He looked around the room at his nearest and dearest - his wife, his children and their children, the friends that were family, their two miracle visitors.
"I rather think this sums up the way I feel," he said softly.
He checked the tuning on his guitar, smiled at Buffy and began to sing.
_ Come, sing a song of joy, for peace shall come, my brother, Sing, sing a song of joy, for men shall love each other. That day will dawn just as sure as Hearts that are pure are hearts set free. No man must stand alone, With outstretched hand before him. Reach out and take them in yours With love that endures forever more. Then sing a song of joy, For love and understanding.
Come, sing a song of joy, of freedom tell the story, Sing, sing a song of joy, for mankind in his glory. One mighty voice that will bring, A sound that will ring forever more. Then sing a song of joy, For love and understanding._
Christmas.
Love. Joy. Freedom. Understanding.
He had it all. Somewhere, in all the mistakes and errors that were his life, he must have done something good.
END