The Holdout

by Raine Wynd

Buffy paused in her patrol. It was nearly midnight on Christmas Eve, and most places of Christian worship held early services rather than a midnight one, except for one lone holdout: The First Church of Unity in Christ, Sunnydale. It was fairly new; it hadn't existed before the night it snowed in Sunnydale, but it had outgrown its storefront and now held court in a respectable little church just past downtown Sunnydale. She'd tried to convince the pastor to hold services earlier in the evening, for the safety of his congregation and himself, but he hadn't wanted to believe the whispers, the not-so-subtle advice of the townsfolk.

Not until Buffy had dusted a vampire in the process of saving his life. Even then, the Reverend Marshall Tyrone Walker, PhD, hadn't wanted to back down in the face of danger.

She smiled to herself as she heard the pastor's strident, melodic voice stream out of the speakers attached to the front and side entrances of the church.

"I believe, and say it with me my fellow children of God if you believe—"

"I believe!" came a few scattered voices.

"Oh, that can't be all of you out there now," Revered Walker said sadly. "Let me hear you when you say that you believe in the miracle and wonder that Our Heavenly Father brought to Earth this night—"

"I believe!" said the congregation.

"—This holy wonder of a child, born to Mary, who would save our souls, yes, save our wretchedness and bring us into the light of Heaven—"

"Into Heaven!" some woman shouted.

Buffy stood in the shadows, watching the darkness for her prey. They always came tonight, to try and feed and terrorize, for they knew as well as she that the congregation within believed in the power of God to save them. And in the darkness, they came, and she fought them, hearing, as she did every year, the words of Reverend Walker.

"—He who will lead us out of darkness, into light, into salvation—"

A vampire lunged for her, and she tripped it, and then staked it when it tried to get up. She didn't waste breath on witty commentary tonight; where there was one, there was usually more. It had taken her years to finally get the hang of this, and for once, she felt like she wasn't just going through the motions.

"—Our Lord Jesus Christ. It is his birthday that we celebrate this night—"

She turned, spun, and met two vampires who tried to double-team her. She lost track of the sermon in the minutes that ensued; they were twins, fighters, and some heretofore-forgotten memory identified them as the cute twins who'd sat in front of her in the last college class she'd taken who'd been named champions in some martial art. When she finally defeated them and the two Gobi demons that had followed them, she took a look around. The night was suddenly quiet save for Reverend Walker.

"And I say to you, the unbelievers, the demons, the ones who walk the night without a soul — Heaven may not be open to you tonight, but Jesus loves you anyway for being the cursed wretches you are. He is the Savior of all mankind, and He was born tonight in a manager, far away in Bethlehem, God's gift to a world with more than its share of sin and sinners, demons and devils. I say to thee, hail the Son of God—"

"Hallelujah!"

"Hail the Savior!"

"Join us now as we sing praise to the Lord."

A female vampire leaped at Buffy's back just as the choir began. Twisting, she slipped out of the vampire's grasp, staking her as she did so. Buffy then took a moment to survey her battleground: piles of ash and two dark puddles of Gobi demon goo that she could just make out in the semi-darkness cast by the partially-lighted walkway and church building. She took a deep breath, quickly centering herself in the way Giles had taught her when she'd finally decided that maybe there was something to this whole Slayer sense thing, trying to feel for something that wasn't human.

Nothing.

"—So I say to you, Happy Birthday, Jesus! Merry Christmas! Thank you, Lord, for this gracious and wondrous day!"

"Amen!" several congregation members proclaimed, then it and Reverend Walker's words rippled through the crowd.

"Happy Birthday, Jesus! Merry Christmas! Amen!"

"Peace, my brothers and sisters," Reverend Walker finally said. "Go in peace, go in joy, and know that the Lord was born to day. Let your celebrations begin!"

Shortly thereafter, the church doors opened, and the congregation poured out, past the tree against which Buffy stood, into their cars and on their way home. Finally, Reverend Walker emerged.

"Thank you, Buffy," Reverend Walker greeted her. He was a tall, dignified-looking black man dressed in a black peacoat, open to reveal a dark, double-breasted suit. "I know you think I'm foolish, carrying on this way."

"Maybe," she conceded. "Maybe it's time to fight back." She shrugged. "You let them win when you hide behind closed doors and never take a stand. At least, that's what you told me a few years ago."

"I didn’t realize they wouldn’t stop.”

Buffy shrugged again. “They won’t until they rule the earth again. That’s why I’m here.”

“I don't know what it would be like without you here." He took a look at her. "I don't understand why God would place such trust in a girl so young."

"Maybe because He believed the young would listen. He did send His Son as a baby, didn't He?"

Reverend Walker looked startled for a moment, and then laughed softly. "Yes, He did." The minister looked at Buffy a moment, gratitude and understanding mixed with compassion in his face. " Let me drive you home."

She shook her head. "I have a few things to clean up here first. I'll be okay, but thanks."

"Merry Christmas, Buffy. May He protect you."

"Merry Christmas, Reverend Walker." She watched him get into his car. When the sound of his car was distant, Buffy walked to the church steps. From underneath the stair, she pulled out a bag of sand, and proceeded to dump some of the contents onto the puddle of Gobi goo. It dried instantly, squeaking as it did so in a last protest at death. She then put the bag of sand back underneath the stairs, tying it shut with her hairband, and then took a broom and cracked the dried puddles until they were dust. It was one last precaution; you couldn't easily resurrect a Gobi demon if it was dust, and Buffy knew better than to assume she could just leave things as they were. Too many sorcerers, too many curses, too many prophecies, and far too much havoc for one lifetime had left her wary of messes.

It was late when she finally got home. Dawn waited at the foot of the stairs. "They refuse to learn that this town rolls the sidewalk up at night, don't they?" she observed.

"Maybe they shouldn't," Buffy countered. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Like I really believe in Santa anymore," Dawn shot back. "Please." Undeterred, Dawn followed her sister up the stairs. "Why? Wouldn't be easier if you didn't have to keep watching the one church in town that has a real Christmas Eve, holy roller-style?"

"Yes," Buffy said flatly. "It would be. But then they'd all die. And you remember how Mom loved that place on Christmas. It was the one time of the year she didn't mind religion."

"So you do it for her?"

"I do it because that's what I do. Protect people from vampires and the things that go bump in the night that aren't fuzzy wuzzy Sully or cute one-eyed Mike." The adrenaline high of combat had long faded, and now all Buffy wanted to do was to shower and crawl into bed.

Dawn was quiet a moment. "But you can't protect people from being stupid. Or risking their lives."

"No. But if they know what they're getting into, the best I can do is to try and eliminate or minimize the damage."

"I hate this town. It's not Christmas without Mom."

"I know," Buffy said heavily. "But Willow and Xander are coming over later, and maybe we can all try and celebrate something happy, like how the world didn't end just yet."

"There is that," Dawn agreed. "Good night, Buffy."

"Night, Dawn."

*******Finis********
12.08.02 (c) Raine Wynd

Comments, corrections, suggestions, constructive criticism welcome. :-) This first appeared in my LiveJournal and has been revised.

Note: Mike and Sully are from the movie “Monsters, Inc.” Any errors in interpretation of Christian religion are strictly mine.