And here it is... the finale. It's been a great

run, guys. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for sticking it out with me the whole way through. Thanks for the reviews, thanks for the words of encouragement, everything. ESPECIALLY huge thanks to Sock Monkey, the best Beta and grammar teacher ever. 3

So here it is, the ending of Retrieval and Return.

Six Months Later

The Hyperion Hotel was abuzz with activity. Demon and Mortal alike bustled around, stringing decorations and hastily checking their watches, muttering about how they should have started this several days ago rather than THE DAY OF THE PARTY.

It was Fred who seemed altogether unworried about the rush, seeing as it had been entirely her idea anyway. The radio on the lobby desk was spewing forth some crooning Christmas carols that she had caught Angel tapping his foot to several times, and had made Spike's left eye twitch with hardly-contained disgust. She stood on a step-stool, stringing tinsel on the huge tree that sat in the lobby. There were presents stacked underneath, and while it had taken some goading and only the tiniest bit of blackmail to get all of her friends involved in the Secret Santa, she decided it was worth it, if only just for the scent of honey-glazed ham that was wafting from the kitchen. It was Christmas in California, and Fred was going to milk it for all it was worth.

Plus it was nice to see her friends in such a relaxed atmosphere; far too often were they engaged in life-threatening situations and plots to steal their souls. For Christmas Eve this year, she'd decided that everything was going to be fun. Lord knew they had earned that much after the year they'd had. So Fred had invited their friends and remaining family members, at least the ones that lived in this dimension and plane of life, to spend Christmas at the Hyperion. The glittering lights and baubles that hung around the hotel were quietly decadent, and the scents of ginger and hot apple cider made everything feel golden and warm.

She couldn't take ALL the credit, of course, Lorne had been a massive help in planning their little shindig. He was currently cavorting around in a red suit with white lapels, wearing a fedora with white fluff trim and puffball on top, and he'd even completed the 'Swanky Santa' ensemble with a trimmed little white beard.

And she was pleasantly surprised to see that their Vampiric buddies were getting into the spirit as well, even if it was in their own way. Spike had disappeared for several hours and returned with what seemed like an endless supply of piping hot Wassail, and the week prior he had begun work on a Plum Pudding, which was now in it's second and final stage of steaming. Spike had taken to sitting at the lobby desk and sipping at the brandy on occasion while he mixed the hard sauce.

Even Angel himself had taken one look at the Christmas tree, then ducked into his room and returned shortly with Barry Manilow's 'Because It's Christmas' Album, along with a Record Player. He had done this very covertly, however, muttering that if she told Spike or anyone else, he might never live it down. Or, unlive it down, such as it were.

It had been very difficult to hide her glee at this.

Best of all, her parents had showed up the day before, their arms laden with presents and faces all brilliant smiles to see their daughter for Christmas. It was Mrs. Burkle who took control of the kitchen, and ruled it with nothing short of tyranny. The only ones allowed in currently were those competant enough to cook, which ended up being Charles and Mr. Burkle. She ordered them around the kitchen, peeling potatoes, seasoning various dishes, cracking eggs, and checking the ham in the oven. Occasionally Fred peeked in to see a panicked Gunn attempting to fix the sweet potatoes before her mother saw and had a chance to swoop in and kick him out. Fred quickly googled the correction for any of the dishes and muttered the directions to him before her mother shooed her out of the kitchen.

Sadly, Fred had not inherited her mother's talent in the culinary arts.

Earlier in the day, Nina had arrived, looking a little tired, but otherwise hale and hearty. Some days after their return to the Hyperion, Angel had gone out to find her, and she'd informed him that, in their absence, she had reinforced the doors of an old van she'd found in a junkyard and been transforming inside of it each full moon. With Angel and company back in LA, her last six sessions had been in the basement of the Hyperion, chained up but safe and as comfortable as they could make her. Her and Angel kept making eyes at each other when their backs were turned, and Fred couldn't help but think that they were getting ridiculous. She joined Mrs. Burkle in the kitchen, in order to take some of the weight off of Charles.

Around early afternoon, there was a knock at the door, and Fred opened it to be greeted by the folks from Cromwell; Karen, Shannon, Rob and Simon, grinning awkwardly and waving. Shannon and Karen joined the others in the kitchen, allowing Gunn to duck out and take a breather. Fred recruited him to the far less arduous task of trimming the tree and locating stockings.

Shortly after, Doctor Rob arrived, with a large bottle of what Fred had assumed to be wine, but later learned was in fact Human blood, donated, according to the Doctor, completely willingly from some of his patients.

Angel and Spike thanked him, but set the bottle aside for the moment. They weren't entirely sure how to feel about it.

It was a little strange when, amongst the bustle and festivities, that Illyria decided to make her way down the stairs from the room she had claimed for herself. She had currently been touring around the edges of the Galaxy, dipping in and out of dimensions that caught her fancy. For today though, she seemed to be interested experiencing a human custom. Which was all fine and good, it was just weird to see a blue half woman, half cyborg Old God inspecting the baubles on a christmas tree and sniffing the gifts.

Either way, Fred had introduced her to 'A Muppet's Christmas Carol' and she was currently very much enamoured with Michael Caine, claiming that of all humans he was her favorite. ("Moreso even than my Spike." "NOT yours, Blue." Fred was nearly positive that she'd muttered 'Yet'.)

And that was when Mrs. Burkle burst from the kitchen doors, covered in flour and various other culinary ingrediants, and announced that dinner was officially ready.

It had been an awfully long time since Spike had celebrated Christmas, not that he hadn't observed it, he just hadn't really cared nor given much thought to Yuletide celebrations. The last time he'd actually gone all-out... well his mother had still been alive. Ugh, he was getting old.

That thought earned him a snicker into his cup of pig's blood, and Fred shot him a curiously amused look from across the table, which was covered in a rather magnificent spread. Mrs. Burkle had truly outdone herself; there was homemade stuffing and cranberry sauce, a bowl of fluffy, buttery mashed potatoes beside a boat of thick gravy, a basket of steaming rolls, pureed sweet potatoes covered in melted marshmallows, and the piece de la resistance, a golden honied ham smack dab in the middle of the table. Spike was almost positive that even Angel was drooling.

Those wishing to do so muttered a quick grace, and afterwards, the entire company dug in. The conversation was just as rich as the food, and after they had eaten their way through the main course, Spike helped Fred and Gunn bring out the deserts, consisting of a variety of pies, cakes, and of course Spike's completed Plum Pudding, which was brought to the table on fire and swiftly put out.

It really was nice, he reflected later, full to bursting and sitting on the couch while the others tore into presents and stockings filled with scratch-off cards and candy. He himself had recieved a lovely warm, red scarf from Lorne-who claimed he needed more color in his life-, a 'Build it Yourself!' Jaguar model from Fred-which he planned to get started on ASAP-, a book from Gunn that was essentially a compendium of 1980s British punk rock, which he had already begun to skim through, and amazingly, a short little book of poetry with no 'from' note. It had taken him some musing, but he'd noticed Angel covertly leering at him each time he ruffled through the pages.

They had reached a weird sort of unspoken truce, the two of them. Neither said anything, and they often bickered and glared, but it appeared as if the two had reached some form of middle ground, one that didn't necessarily mean they liked each other, but one that at the very least had trust.

In quiet response to the gift, Spike chucked a plastic Kazoo he had recieved at Angel's head, and nonchalantly whistled 'Jingle Bells' when he spun around from chatting with Nina.

The group of friends, relatives, and monsters of questionable lineage spent the evening with each other in companionable chatter. Fred broke out her brand new, stained wood Scrabble set and challenged Lorne to a game. They were joined by Charles, and eventually Spike sat down to play. The vampire bested them several times, and the only one not surprised by Spike's grasp of the English Language was Angel, who rolled his eyes and muttered something about oranges.

Finally, as the clock ticked onwards to midnight, they all headed off to bed, full and sleepy and some a little bit tipsy. Doctor Rob said his goodnights and left to return to his home, and the other visitors picked out extra rooms in the Hyperion.

Fred found herself in a set of matching christmas pajamas, that were a bit too big but very comfy, heading down the hall to return Lorne's christmas hat. Said hat had been snatched by her earlier in the night, and she figured now was as good a time as any to give it back. Then she recalled an old tradition of hers that she hadn't been able to complete in quite a few years, and made her way down to the lobby of the hotel.

She flipped a switch and the Christmas tree lit up, multi-colored lights playing off the tinsel and wrapping paper, illuminating the room in a warm red and green glow. She nestled in amongst the torn paper and pineneedles and smiled up at the tree, liking her green reflection in some of the baubles. Fred scootched back and leaned against the couch, and after a little while, drifted off to sleep.

It was Spike who found her, sometime around 3 AM, snoring against the couch in the dark.

He spent a moment enjoying the sight, because it was so completely FRED. She was splayed out, arms akimbo in pajamas too big for her, her mouth open and snoring. He couldn't help chuckling. She looked like a little kid who'd stayed up waiting for Father Christmas.

He picked up the flannel blanket from the edge of the couch and sat down beside her, draping it over her legs.

She stirred, eyes popping open and blinking. "Hm?"

"You should go to bed, Pidgeon."

"Oh, Spike. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"What were you doing down here?"

She curled up in the blanket, snuggling it around herself. "Oh, um. Don't worry about it, you'll just laugh."

He grinned wickedly. "Try me."

"Well it's sort of just something I do... I haven't done it since high school- I mean I certainly couldn't do it once I got into college that would have been silly... Um. I was waiting for Santa. I mean, I know it's already the 25th, technically the 26th now, but it's just something I always did, kind of a tradition for me and.. stuff." she seemed to sink into herself.

He laughed.

"See, I knew you would."

"No no no, pet, I'm not laughing at that just... S'what I like about you. Between you and me, I think it'd be good if more people waited up for Father Christmas."

"You think?"

"Absolutely. Actually... More people should just be like you, Pidgeon." he smiled.

And it was about then that Fred decided she'd had enough time to grieve, enough time to move on and come to grips with everything over the last year. She reached over and grasped the back of his hand with hers, then leaned over and pressed her lips softly against his.

He blinked when she pulled away a bit, face inches from his own.

"Merry Christmas, Spike."

He took her chin in his hand and leaned down to kiss her, a bit less chaste this time. She clutched his hand in hers, and her other hand grasped the lapel of his shirt. Eventually, they would make their way back to her bedroom- but for the moment they enjoyed sitting by the Christmas tree together, sitting close and warm and a little flushed in Fred's case.

Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year indeed. He thought.

Stay tuned for more adventures with Spike, Fred, and the rest of the gang.

After all, you never know what the new year brings. ;)