Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: This is a stand alone Sarai story set before It's A Return, so there's no Darla brought back or anything.

It was going the worst Christmas Sarai ever had. And considering she only had one other in which the real Santa Clause tried to kill her, it was a big statement to make. Christmas Eve should be spent anticipating the next day. Not dreading it. "Calm down," she eventually heard her father tell her, while she wallowed on the sofa. She looked up and saw he was holding hot chocolate and a plate of sugar cookies. She waved it away. Angel pouted. A rejection of chocolate and cookies by Sarai was serious business. "Come on, it's Christmas Eve," he tried to coerce cheerfully.

"More like Sucky Eve," the teenager bitterly muttered. "Everything is so messed up! I'm such an idiot!"

"No, you're not."

She snickered. "Dad, I fell off the stage during the Holiday Play!" she exclaimed.

Angel winced at the memory of the incident that took place a few hours before. It was pretty bad. She tripped over one of the wires for the lighting, and as she fell she sent a bowl of Figgy Pudding that was used in the scene, flying into the organists lap. "It wasn't that bad," he eventually decided to lie.

"Please! By this time tomorrow everyone is going to hear about this. I can picture Brianna and her Mean Girl-esque posse e-mailing everyone who wasn't there now. And hello? Tomorrow when the gang comes over for Christmas, like they're not gonna give me hell for it? Not to mention the other embarrassment I'm gonna have to face with them." Sarai had done nearly all of her holiday shopping online, after she practically had a meltdown in the mall dealing with the insane shoppers, because she was of course the only sane one there. And as her luck would have it, all her gifts got lost in the mail. Despite her many threats to the post office, the gifts were yet to be located. So when everyone would be giving her gifts on Christmas, she was going to have to give out IOU's.

"You can't control the mail," he said. "And, you're also lucky the Post Office never called the cops, reporting all your threats."

"Yeah, I'm a ball of luck," she snorted. "I had the coolest present's for everyone, too! Especially yours!" Which was true. She ordered a 13th century broadsword, and even had it engraved with his name on it. His named, meaning 'dad', of course. She knew the engraving brought down it's value, and she was hesitant to do that, but she knew her father would like it, because he's sappy like that, so she went for it. "And the Post Office knows better then to screw with me further by calling the cops," Sarai added.

"Of course they do."

"Don't patronize me now."


"You should be," she told him. "And this is going to be my last Christmas," she then sighed.

"No it won't," Angel insisted.

"Yes it will. And it'll be all your fault. I can't believe you're doing this to me. And you HAD to tell me before Christmas. You sick, sick, vampire," she yelled.

Angel groaned. "You're not going to die from having your tonsils out. And I felt bad keeping it from you."

"But you don't feel bad actually making me do it!"

"No, because it's going to make you better."

"That's what you want me to think. You've been corrupted. I can smell it. Well, actually I can't really smell anything at the moment because I am all clogged cause my troat is all congested and it's getting nasally..."

"Which will be cleared up once your tonsils are out," Angel cut off.

The teenager scoffed in disbelief. "I'm calling social services."

"Do you need me to look up the number?"

"The star still isn't lit," Sarai randomly pointed out, forgetting the conversation in progress, as she stared at their tree.

Angel looked up at the tree with the unlit star, "yeah, the bulbs must have blown."

"It's not the only thing that blows around here," Sarai muttered.

"Your life doesn't 'blow'."

"Um, out of me and you, I am the better judge of my life state. I am old enough to do it myself! I don't need you making my decisions!" the teenager yelled at her father before storming into her room.

"There should be parent social services," Angel quietly mused after being yelled at for the fifth time that day, for no real reason. Not that he wasn't used to it. Hell, even as an infant she'd cry for hours for no reason at all. He had a suspicion that was really her way of yelling/complaining/blaming him for every little thing that bugged her, the best way she could at that age. It would certainly make sense.

Meanwhile a shoe flew across Sarai's bedroom as a result of her throwing it. "Dah! Everything is so poop! This blows, wreaks, sucks, bites," Sarai ranted to her dog; who was resting comfortably on the bed. "You have no idea how lucky you are you're a dog. The only thing you have to worry about is whether or not I'll hog the bed causing you to sleep on the floor, which I never ever do. You don't have to worry about the incompetent post office or public humiliation!" She stomped her feet in anger. "God, everything is so wrong! I wish I was never born!" she exclaimed out of teenager over dramatics. The next thing she knew, she slipped on one of the many socks on her bedroom floor and fell, her head hitting the dresser.

When Sarai opened her eyes, she was in her room, only it was all white. "Nooo. Not another freaky thing," she whined.

"I'm not freaky, or a thing!" a voice behind her protested. Sarai turned around to see a blonde woman. And for once it was not her mother, which was a minus.

"Then who are you?"

"I'm your guide."


"Guide. Spirt. I am here to help you, depressed one."

Sarai raised an eyebrow. "Depressed? Who, me? I'm not depressed. Pissed off, but not depressed."

The woman shook her head. "No, you're depressed. That's why I am here. To make you undepressed, and so I can become an angel."

"You want to be my dad?" Sarai questioned before catching on. "Oh! You mean like a real angel with wings and stuff, don't you?"

"Well, yes. But that's not all. They have an eternity of kick-ass benefits, literally."

"Cool," Sarai nodded. "I'm Sarai, by the way, if by some chance you didn't know." She extended her hand to the woman, who shook it enthusiastically.

"I'm Anya. Great! Now that we know each other we can get started!"

"I still don't get what this is about."

"It's about getting me angel-status! Oh... and that thing about helping you of course," Anya explained.


The two stepped outside the room and they were in the penthouse. All the decorations Sarai had watched Angel put up as she directed there every position, were nonexistent. "This isn't festive at all," Anya observed.

"I know. It was though. I swear."

"Now let's get on with this, shall we? Time is my pension."

They soon found themselves in Fred's old apartment. Sarai was confused. It had been a while since Fred lived there. She and Wesley bought a place together that they live it. It didn't make sense. It made even less sense that she was drinking eggnog with Lorne, who was with Fred in the apartment. "See, who needs those Scrooges?" they heard Lorne say.

"What's the deal?" Sarai asked Anya.

"They're spending Christmas Eve together."

"Okay. Why are they alone? And not in Fred's new apartment?"

"She does not have a new apartment. Her and the guy aren't together. They haven't even told one another how they feel."

Sarai laughed. "Sure they have. I made them!"

"Yes, but here, you weren't born. So you never got them together. So no Christmas together. And, she hasn't had sex in a very long time. Which is tragic because it's good to have."

"I wouldn't know."

Anya stared at her in disbelief. "Really? Oh, you must try it sometime."

"You know, as of late, I've been thinking of it."

"Good for you!" Anya cheered.

"Thanks," Sarai replied nicely. She liked this woman very much. "Well, this is boring."

"Yes it is," she agreed. Then they switched scenery and saw that Wesley and Gunn were in their apartments, not celebrating at all. When that was done, they were in Angel's office.

"Why is he working on Christmas Eve?" Sarai questioned. "And, aw, he looks broodier then usual, which says a lot."

"Well, of course. See, with out you he's all alone. The powers wouldn't bring Cordelia or Doyle.." mid explanation of why life would be so different without Sarai, the teenager cut Anya off.

"Woah. Let me get this straight, this is supposed to be like that long-ass Christmas movie where the guy see's what life was like if he was ever born?"

"Yes," Anya answered.

"Why the hell are you showing ME this, then!" she demanded. "Life would suck for everyone without me, yeah, knew that already. Came up with the theory a long while ago, actually. I mean come on, these people can't be trusted to run their own lives! And I am just fantabulous at it. Not to mention the whole 'miracle child' angle. Although it is cool to have final conformation of it."

"Well...you wished you were never born!"

"So? I wished all week that I wouldn't have homework to do over the Christmas break, and that sure as hell didn't come true! I also wished today that Brianna would turn into a leprechaun and that I'd hit the jackpot on the scratch-off lotto tickets, my friend from school, Jessica, gave me in a Christmas card today; neither of which happened. Why did they randomly decide to grant the fake one?"

"I don't know. Mistake, maybe?" Anya looked up at the ceiling. "This still better freaking count!" she yelled.

Sarai had an idea. "Hey, since we're here and all, could we make one tiny stop?"


Moments later Sarai stood outside her boyfriends house and looked in his front window. And was not pleased. "I don't believe it," she sneered as she looked at Brianna sitting next to Ryan on his couch. "Bitch is in my place, without me. Although, he does seem bored out of his mind. Aw. Poor Ryan all in a boring relationship with a hoe, without me." She smiled upon coming to that conclusion.

"Is this your boyfriend?" Anya asked.


"The one you're thinking about having the sex with?"


"Good choice. He has nice arms."

"Thanks. And I know. He plays baseball, and from what I hear about baseball, he plays it well," Sarai bragged.

"You know, you are not annoying like all the other mini-adult people of your age."

Sarai grinned. "And you are the sweetest spirt ever. Way cooler then these Oracle people I met once. They were so self involved."

"Don't you just hate that? I don't understand people who don't know how good they have it being around me."

"Same here," Sarai agreed with force, to emphasize she likes being alive.

"What was it that made you mad enough to wish you were never born, even if you didn't mean it."

Sarai was no longer happy. "Humiliation at school, and more importantly the post office lost all the Christmas presents I ordered," she complained.

Anya's eyes lit up with fury. "They lost stuff you paid for!" she exclaimed. "Those bastards!"

"I know!"

"No wonder why you were mad enough to say that. Monetary loss is no joke!"

"Especially in a country where capitalism is the base of its foundation. You'd think the government run post office would be more careful!"

"Exactly," Anya agreed, amazed that she wasn't the only one who felt that way. "Well don't you worry. I won't let this tragedy continue," she went on to vow.

Sarai woke up in her bedroom where she fell. She stood up and looked and looked at her alarm clock. It was nearly 6am. "Oddness," she muttered before turning to her dog. "We have work to do," she informed her dog, despite the animal was sound asleep.

An hour later Angel woke up, shocked Sarai hadn't woken him in the middle of the night to open gifts. He was even more shocked when he saw Sarai in the kitchen, wearing a Santa hat, with breakfast on the table. "What is this?" he asked.

"Breakfast, genius," she replied as she poured coffee for him.

"You cooked this?" He was afraid. Very afraid.

"No." He was relieved. "I went out and got it from a diner down town. Which I used your credit card for, but will pay you back, promise." Angel took a sip of the coffee, and nearly through up. "But I did make you the coffee myself," she added, which explained the overly sugared tasted. She herself then took a sip of some and thought it tasted fine. He felt slightly sicker watching. "What?" she questioned.

"What is the point of this breakfast?"

"It's your Christmas present. Since you know, I don't have an actual one for you. Which is why I am gonna pay you back. You deserve a great present." The voice was without a doubt Sarai's, but the words that came out sound nothing like her. "So I thought to myself, and Skittles, of what you be a great gift and then hello! An entire breakfast that you get to eat with me." Those, however, sounded just like her.

"Eating with you is my gift," he repeated.

"Yup. And Skittles of course. Isn't it great?"

Angel looked over at the dog, who was laying by the table waiting for scraps. He finally noticed that Sarai had put a headband of reindeer antlers on the top, on the dog. He looked back at his daughter. There was something different about her. More different than usual, that is. "Are you okay? You wanna open your gifts, don't you?"

"No. Well, yes. But no. I don't know. I think I had a weird dream last night, but I don't remember anything about it other than it was weird," she explained.

"That happens sometimes," he shrugged before chuckling. "I really am shocked you've had this much self control when there's a whole stack of presents with your name on them a few feet away." That was the most honest thing Angel had ever said. It was a big shock. But it did make him proud. Perhaps it was a sign she was mellowing out with age?

"Pfft. Please, I am not five," she replied. Angel went got up to throw out a napkin. She blocked him. "I'll do that."

"It's okay, I got it." He went to the garbage can and when he lifted the lid he was face to face with wrapping paper. The same wrapping paper he used to wrap her gifts with. "Not five, huh?"

"Fine, you caught me. I opened one," she confessed before removing the gift in question from her pocket. It was a pink cover for her iPod. "Thank you."

"Welcome. You can open the rest now."

She jumped up and down with joy. As they headed for the living room, there was a knock on the door. "Who could that be?" she wondered. Angel answered the door. It was two deliverymen with three cardboard boxes.

"Delivery for Sarai Angel," one of the men said.

Sarai rushed to the door. "Are you kidding! This is great. My gifts!" she rejoyced. "And it took you peoples long enough!" she then yelled.

The boxes were brought in and then Sarai opened the gifts Angel got for her. Once she was done, she opened the delivery boxes. Inside were all the gifts she ordered, and in the gift wrapping she ordered. "I can't believe this. It's so cool, I told you the post office was afraid of me!" she told her father as he opened his gift. "Did I say you could open that!" she yelled. He froze. "Just kidding. Open away."

"It is strange that they delivered them today," Angel agreed as he ripped the paper off. "Thank you so much!" he said as he admired the sword. "This is so great."

"I know."

The next thing either one of them knew, the star on top of the tree finally lit up. They both stared at it in shock. "Weird," Sarai finally concluded.

"You know, some people think that when a star is lit an angel get's its wings," Angel explained honestly.

"Yeah, I'm sure it does," Sarai sarcastically replied. That's when the 'dream' came back to her. "Weird," she giggled, still in disbelief.

"What is?"

"Everything, ever, basically. I'm gonna take a bath while you clean and set up for our party. Have fun. Merry Christmas." She began to walk towards the bathroom. "Wait. You know what? March 5th should really be Christmas part 2," she realized. "Cause I mean, why shouldn't my birthday be like a Christmas? We're both miracle children."

"Go take a bath," he told her, shaking his head at her theory.

"Try not to miss me so much," she advised.

"I'll do my very best. And, Merry Christmas to you too."

"Got that right."


A/N. Hope you enjoyed reading about Sarai's Christmas, and liked the Sarai/Anya interaction, which was the whole point of the fic really, since I've been dying to write them meeting. Merry Christmas everyone!

Please review.