ADVENT STORIES FOR
DECEMBER 7

CLARK/LEX

Title: Of Friends and Lovers.
By: Jezebel
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Fandom: Smallville
Disclaimer: They aren’t mine, they belong to DC and other related companies.
Notes: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent 
Feedback: eh_oh_po@yahoo.com

OF FRIENDS AND LOVERS

They had started to talk about friendship and lovers for a paper that Clark had to write for school when they started back in January. The discussion had started out in Lex's study while they were relaxing and just enjoying their time together. Lex's study was tastefully decorated with a few elegant ornaments, and Clark enjoyed the way that the lit fire and the few fairy lights made Lex's eyes sparkle.

They were in the middle of discussing his paper, which Clark had just used as an excuse to see his friend, when Lex remembered that there was a book that he wanted to refer to - something that he thought would help Clark a lot. The only problem was that it was in his room. They had moved through the house and to the master suite, Clark not really sure why he was going, but he had followed anyway.

It had just tumbled out of control from there.

Clark wasn't quite sure how they had gotten to this point. Lex had been talking about something, Clark hadn't even really been listening, he had just been watching Lex's mouth and focusing on his lips, wondering about that little scar.

The next thing he knew they were kissing.

~~~

"I want you." Lex said as he moved in to kiss his friend again.

And everything seemed to fall into place.

Clark felt the words as Lex spoke them, both in his actions and in the fervour that Lex put into the kiss. Clark had always thought that at this moment his mind would be crowded with regret, with thoughts of what would happen the next morning and with the idea that this was "Wrong". Somehow though, now that it was happening, now that he finally had Lex where he wanted him all he could think of was the warm wet tongue that was moving erotically in time with his own and the hands that were cupping his ass sending liquid fire through his body and straight to his already hard cock.

Lex pulled him down to the expensive wooden framed bed that stood dominantly in the middle of Lex's room. Clark had never really thought that he would be here other than in his dreams. The last time he had seen the bed Victoria had been in it and Clark didn't want to think about her while he was laying here with this vision that was drawn straight out of one of his many fantasies.

Somehow thought the kissing wasn't enough and Clark knew that he had to act. He stood and began to stroke his hands over Lex's supple body, taking time as he did so to unbutton, unbuckle and undo various fastenings and pull off different layers until Lex was naked.

Lex then lay on the bed watching as Clark stripped. Lex had one leg bent up, revealing his naked form as he slowly played with his hard cock. Clark drank up the sight for a few moments, not sure when he was going to wake from this dream and wondering why in the whole time he had been fantasising over this he had never had a wet dream this erotic before.

Moving towards the bed he threw himself down next to Lex with a small bounce that made the pair laugh a little, it was easy, they knew each other so well and lightened the moment that had been threatening to drown them in its intensity. It was good to see that even with the addition of sex that they're easy relationship would not change. Lex valued Clark's friendship above everything else and any transition into a more serious relationship could not harm that, because if it did, it might kill Lex, or at least kill his soul.

"Mmm..." Lex said as he watched his lover lay next to him on the bed and reached out a hand to trace the contours of the familiar body, as if trying to remember every nook and cranny on the body of the man he loved. Clark's skin flushed and a light sheen of sweat on his form he lay looking wanton and needy, a combination that made Lex want to pull him into his arms and never let go, so he did. Pulling Clark on top of him, Lex rubbed his body against the one that he knew so well, wanting to map all of the new sights that he had only seen before this through layers of flannel and denim.

Another roll and Clark was under him, limply lying beneath him and giving Lex the chance to explore. Lex had never really seen Clark as the passive lover, he liked this chance to do as he pleased with Clark. A gentle nip at the neck began Lex's voyage of discovery and then he moved down to suck the tender nipples. He continued the ministrations that drove Clark insane until the small nubs pebbled on his chest. Then the journey continued downward. A nose buried to smell the musk of his armpits, then a gentle tickle of Lex's fingers over his exposed ribs before he trailed a line of kisses down the teasing of hair on Clark's chest downwards and a tongue that invaded his navel, fucking itself in and out before continuing down with a further string of kisses to Clark's engorged penis.

"Lex!" Clark screamed as he felt the heat that engulfed his member. It was an unusual sensation but certainly not an unpleasant one. Clark could not remember his cock having ever been this hard, yet it was not painfully hard it was just that an erection had never felt this good. If his surprised scream had been loud, the one that he felt at the loss of the mouth was louder.

"Don't stop..." Clark gasped as Lex pulled away.

"I...I want to be inside you." Lex said, uncharacteristic for him to ask, but knowing that it was important to both of them that the words were spoken. Lex was a man used to getting what he wanted, but Clark was new to this and he did not want to force him into anything that Clark didn't want. He hadn't even meant for things to go this far but emotion had taken over and he needed to do this. "I want to make love to you Clark, Can I?"

Clark wondered how he was supposed to form conscious thought when Lex was there, in bed with him, naked. But he knew the importance of consent, especially when what they were doing was highly illegal. Clark tried to say yes, but his mouth was dry with desire so instead he nodded his agreement.

Lex waited a moment, obviously this was not enough, so Clark fought harder and managed to find his voice.

"Yes, Lex. Fuck me. Make love to me." He panted. "Do something."

Clark watched as Lex lay over him to reach for the condom and lube that he needed, pausing only to give Clark a none too slow kiss that only stopped when Clark pulled away. If Lex continued to kiss him he would come too early and that was the last thing that he wanted.

Instead of putting the condom on, Lex moved back between Clark's legs and took the balls that lay there in his mouth one at a time, gently teasing them, licking them and blowing on them in turn and watching the arousal that coursed through his lover. He wanted this to be special, just as every first time should be. Clark lifted his legs, wanting to feel that talented tongue in a more exposed place, pulling his legs up Lex obliged by stroking Clark's puckered hole with his tongue. Lex licked the hole gently before entering it with his tongue, he licked and tasted the darker area of his lover's anus loving the sounds that the invasion produced. Clark was a vocal lover which was a nice surprise to Lex, who had always seen the polite farmboy as someone that was quiet. It was clear that Clark could telegraph his needs as well as Lex would and also that he liked to make a lot of noise during sex. Lex liked both of these observations.

"Lex...Please..." Clark begged as he felt the pre-cum that was leaking from his slit, he was close and was desperate to come, but first he wanted to feel Lex inside him. He wanted to know what it felt like to make love with the man of his dreams. There was a part of him that still feared that this would be too much but he wanted it to be a full and worthwhile memory; for both of them.

As if understanding Clark's need Lex backed off and opened the packet that lay on the bed, slipping on the condom with an ease despite the few years since he had been with anyone in this way. It had been a while since his hedonistic days in Metropolis and there was hardly a lot of readily available bottom boys in Smallville. At least not since Whitney Fordman had left town.

Lex took the lube and spread it liberally on himself before reaching for Clark's hole. He knew that the rimming and tongue fuck would have loosened Clark a little, but Clark was a virgin and they always needed more work. Lex wanted his lover to enjoy this as much as he would, so he slid a well lubed finger in to the tight opening, before following it with a second. He moved them gently, feeling Clark's need as his friend moved up to meet his thrusts, then he removed the fingers, and moved his cock to the opening, a slight shiver of anticipation coursing through him as he encountered the tight ring of muscle at Clark's hole.

'OH MY GOD' Clark thought silently as he felt his lover push into him. There was a burning pain, unlike anything that the almost immortal boy had ever felt. Then the pain changed to an intense pleasure - if it were possible Clark thought this was the best feeling in the world and wondered why everyone was not doing it. Lex paused a moment, allowing Clark to gain his bearings and just enjoying the feeling of being inside Clark, before he began to move.

Lex moved slowly at first, but picked up the pace as Clark's moans of pleasure increased, reaching a hand between their bodies he began to stroke Clark in time with his thrusts. Clark knew he could not hold off much longer and was helpless to do anything but lie back and let the passion course through him, his head thrashing gently from side to side as he was fucked within an inch of his life.

It had been so long for Lex and he knew that they both wanted it so much, neither would not last long. As he felt the onset of his orgasm Clark opened his eyes and looked directly at Lex, his ass clenched and the two came together, tandem shouts of completion that shook the bed with their power. The look that passed between them spoke of love and power that neither could verbalize. This was like the culmination of their two years of friendship and went beyond words, although perhaps Lex had come close when he described their union as "the stuff of legends."

Lex sagged on to Clark's chest for a moment, before pulling out and removing the
condom that held his seed, he took the boxers that Clark had torn off in need and lovingly wiped his lover before laying down next to him to sleep.

They snuggled together, no words spoken due to the exhaustion of their powerful and erotic session, but both feeling more loved and wanted than they had through their entire friendship.

Clark was not supposed to be here, his father especially did not like him to go to the castle even though Clark found a lot of excuses to see Lex. By rights he should go home and be in his own bed by the time his parents woke up. Lex didn't think that he wanted his friend to leave just yet.

"Stay." Lex whispered as he found his voice. "Just for tonight... stay."

Clark had promised himself one kiss, making love just once had been a bonus, surely sleeping in his lover's arms for just one night could not hurt. Clark was a little closer to understanding the issue of friendship and love that his essay asked about but right now he was with Lex and it didn't matter which they were because they would always be together one way or another.

They could deal with the worries of the world in the morning, but for now they could just be together and forget the rest of the world.

***

END

HARRY/SNAPE

Author: kira-nerys
Title: Holiday Sneer
Feedback: kardasi@kardasi.com
Rating: PG
Fandom: Harry Potter Universe.
Pairing: Harry/Snape
Summary: Snape isn’t quite as brooding as he would like Harry to think. Not today.
Disclaimer. Harry, Snape, Hogwarts and everything in there belong to JKR. I envy her, but I don’t make money off of this.
Note: Written for the Slash Advent Calendar of 2002. You can find it at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent

HOLIDAY SNEER

“You’re never truly happy, are you, Severus?” Harry asked curiously.

They’d been sitting in front of the fire for almost an hour, not talking much, but it had been a companionable silence, although Snape’s mood seemed unpredictable to say the least. It was as though he was actively trying very hard to be surly, and not quite succeeding the way he would like. If not for this pretence, they would have been very comfortable, Harry decided. In fact, they were anyway.

“What is there to be happy about?” Severus Snape muttered and took another sip of his mulled wine. He sat sprawled in his chair, with his long legs crossed at the ankles. Harry had seldom seen him so relaxed. The tone of his voice didn’t quite mesh with his appearance however.

“There are no students at Hogwarts to annoy you at the moment?”

Snape shot him a poignant look, which told Harry that although he was no longer a student at Hogwarts, he was plenty annoying, thank you very much.

“You’re inside Hogwarts although there’s a howling blizzard wreaking havoc with the trees in the Forbidden Forest?” Snape shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but Harry wouldn’t let it faze him and he kept talking. “You’re sipping an absolutely wonderful mulled wine provided me by Mrs. Weasley? Do I have to list more reasons?” Harry couldn’t quite keep the amusement out of his voice, and he thought that gave the Potions master even more trouble keeping his bad mood appearance going. He looked like a contented cat where he sat, and Harry was expecting him to stretch and yawn widely, before falling asleep in front of the fire. It was rather amusing to se how Snape fought hard to keep the usual sneer on his face

“Please spare me,” Snape muttered as though even less happy about the fact that Professor Harry Potter had actually managed to name a few good things in his life. “Hogwarts is a drafty old building giving precious little shelter against the wind.” Snape pulled his robes tighter around his slim body as though he were cold. Harry doubted it though. The flames in the fire were still burning bright, giving off a rather pleasant warmth, and the mulled wine spread a comfortable heat through Harry’s body – not to mention the warmth his present company was causing, but maybe Snape didn’t feel that way? That was what Harry was determined to find out this fine Christmas evening.

“The mulled wine is too spicy – and you’re still here,” Snape added as an afterthought. The sting in his voice wasn’t really there, and again Harry suspected that Snape was just trying to keep a front, and that he was in fact quite comfortable.

That was good, Harry thought, and the flutters in his stomach became more apparent.

“If you can’t think of anything worse, you’ll forgive me if I don’t feel sorry for you, Snape,” he teased.

Snape hadn’t mentioned Voldemort, and that was another reason why Harry suspected that Snape was truly enjoying himself. If he really wanted to ruin the mood, he could have mentioned the Dark Lord and made both of them tense and uncomfortable.

Snape hadn’t said a word about anything that could ruing their comfortable Christmas evening. Not really.

“I never asked for your pity, Harry,” Snape replied archly. “Now, if you don’t mind. I shall leave you. It is late.”

He started folding his body together, blinking at the warm hearth, as though he really didn’t want to move from the spot, but felt as though he had to, just to keep appearances.

“Oh, come on, Severus. It’s Christmas Eve and it’s just you and me here. Can’t you at least pretend to be enjoying my company for another couple of hours? “

“I wasn’t aware I was pretending to enjoy your company before, so why should I begin now?” Snape rose from his chair finally, but Harry got up as well and put his hand on Snape’s arm. Surprisingly enough, the older man froze, and didn’t seem inclined to shrug Harry’s hand away. Snape’s uncharacteristic manner gave Harry hope that this would work.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Harry said and looked at his former teacher under long lashes. Snape’s muscles moved under his hand. Harry could feel them tensing under the skin, like tightropes. “Indulge me?”

“You’re spoiled enough as it is, Harry Potter,” Snape pointed out, slowly, as though not really aware of what he was saying. Harry licked his lips and another smile crossed his lips when he saw Snape’s eyes darken. “Why should I add to that?”

“Because you like me?”

A short bark of a laugh escaped Severus Snape, then his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What makes you think I like you?”

“Because you are here at all,” Harry pointed out. “If you hated me as much as you like to pretend, you wouldn’t have bothered coming here in the first place. You would have stayed in your dungeons through the holidays, and I wouldn’t have seen you at all for two weeks.”

Snape didn’t answer for a while, but then he said. “I knew there was a reason I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Because of the way you look at me when you think I won’t notice,” Harry continued as though Snape hadn’t said a word.

“And what way do I look at you, Harry Potter?” Snape asked, his voice low and silky. Was he trying to sound dangerous? If that was it, he wasn’t succeeding very well. Snape sounded more dazed, even preoccupied.

“The way you look at me right now, Severus,” Harry whispered. “Like you want to kiss me.”

“Kiss you?”

“Yes, like this,” Harry said and pushed his fingers into Snape’s long, black hair. It was softer than it looked, but still coarser than Harry’s own hair. Not unpleasant to the touch at all. Snape said nothing, as Harry drew his head down. Although Harry had gained a few inches Snape, he master was still taller than Harry, taller and probably stronger, but the older man did not resist, but lowered his head indulgently until their lips met.

Warmth and softness. A moan escaped him, but he couldn’t have cared less when Snape’s arms circled around him tightly.

Harry sighed as they kissed. It was sweeter than he’d expected. The way Snape conducted himself in every day life, Harry had expected the kiss to be harsh, and less tender than it really was, but he wasn’t about to complain.

Snape pulled away a little and looked into Harry’s eyes.

“What gave me away?” he wondered, his voice softer than Harry had ever heard it.

“There’s no hatred in your eyes anymore,” Harry said. “There hasn’t been for a very long time.”

“No,” Snape admitted. “I would imagine there hasn’t been.”

With a smile on his usually stern lips, Snape bent down to kiss Harry again.

Christmas at Hogwarts with Severus Snape suddenly seemed like the best place to be.

END

JIM/BLAIR

Title: Love's Gamble
Author: J. Love
Rating: PG-13
Pairing : Jim/Blair
Fandom: The Sentinel
DISCLAIMER: Simon, Jim, Blair and Rafe do not belong to me. Pet Fly Productions holds those rights. I am not making money off this.
WARNINGS : implied m/m
NOTE: Part of the slash advent calendar challenge situated at : http://www.kardasi.com/Advent
Feedback e-mail address : jl_foxy@pris.bc.ca
SUMMARY : first time. declaration of love
Thank you to Tracie and Qwik for betaing. Any remaining errors are mine alone.

LOVE'S GAMBLE
J. Love jl_foxy@pris.bc.ca

All is quiet as Simon and Jim enter the loft.

"Thanks for the lift, Simon. I just need to grab something from the storage room."

"You're going to need a heavier jacket."

"Umm, right."

"Where is it?"

"Upstairs in my closet. Could you get it for me?"

Simon turns to the stairs. "Where is the kid?"

"Left a message at the station that he was spending the night with someone."

"Did he say who?"

"No. He's been real secretive lately."

Simon goes up to the loft bedroom and freezes. The sight before him defies words.

"Jim, come up here." Simon whispers, still frozen on the top step.

Jim draws his gun and slowly climbs the staircase.

Simon slowly moves to the side and gives Jim an unobstructed view of the bed. The sheets have been changed to red satin. But what has arrested both men in their place is what is between the sheets.

Jim slowly holsters his weapon and moves to side of the bed unable to believe his eyes. Simon moves quietly to the end of the bed.

Lying facedown, one closed hand stretched out sideways toward the head of the stairs and the other loosely holding an invitation, is a nude angel.

The top sheet barely covers the ass leaving the entire smooth back exposed. Soft exhalations of breath indicate that he is asleep.

Simon slowly moves to the other side of the bed and retrieves the invitation. 'Jim' is written in elegant gold script on the front of the card.

Simon goes to Jim's side and hands the card to him. "Why couldn't you hear him when we came in?" he whispers.

Jim glances around and points to the white noise generators on the nightstands. Simon nods in understanding.

Jim looks at the invitation card. It is of high quality stationery embossed with gold curicurls. He slowly opens it and reads : On this day of love universal, I have decided to offer all that I am. I am your Guide, your friend and partner. You are my life, my Sentinel, my friend and partner. Only one thing have I kept from you.... my love. I offer you my soul and enternal love into your keeping to do as you wish. Love, Blair.

"Chief," whispers Jim.

Simon glances at the card and then at Blair's right hand. Clutched tightly is a gold key.

"Jim, look at his right hand." Simon whispers.

Jim sits slowly on the bed and reaches for the key. As his hand touches it, Blair awakens.

Blair stretches sensuously and turns onto his left side facing Jim. His right hand slowly opening offering the key. His blue eyes fixed firmly onto Jim's, everything else unimportant.

"This is the key to my heart, everything that I am is yours." Blair huskily promises.

Jim doesn't speak or move.

Blair swallows and closes his eyes. This was the risk he took in declaring himself.

Seemingly endless moments drag by with no response and Blair sighs. Pain blossoms in his breast and hollowness starts to fill his soul. His hand as if in slow motion opens wider and the key falls to the bed. A single tear slips from beneath his eyelid.

"I'm sorry, Jim." Blair offers quietly. "I'll...." he swallows hard. "I'll leave if you want me to."

Jim becomes aware of Blair's words and shouts "NO!"

Blair opens his eyes to look at Jim and sees Simon behind him for the first time.

"Simon," he whispers softly to himself. Hope leaving him. His failure complete and witnessed.

"No," Jim repeats grabbing Blair's hand. "I don't want you to ever leave me."

"Jim...."

"Please, Blair. Listen to me first. I'm sorry you got the wrong impression."

Blair stiffens expecting to hear a rejection, nice though it may be.

"You have given me so much that I never expected you to give me more. You are my life too. I have given you my soul and love the first moment I laid eyes on you. Your gift to me today is more than I could ever hope for. Please don't leave me."

"I won't Jim." Blair answers softly with a smile. "I love you."

Jim pulls Blair up and kisses him. "I love you."

Simon smiles softly at the love expressed before him before slowly turning and descending the stairs. He exits the loft leaving behind the true love that can only grow and blossom with every moment between his friends. Perhaps Rafe is free this evening since Jim will be too busy to join him at the park concert.

the end.

What do you think? Please let me know.

MISCELLANEOUS (HARRY POTTER)

Title: Nobody Wants to be Alone on Christmas
RATING: PG
Pairing: Sirius/Harry/Remus-ish. Sirius/Harry.
Fandom: Harry Potter, miscellaneous
Disclaimer: As much as I would love to claim these darling boys as mine, I can't and they aren't. Want to know an easy way to tell I didn't write the books? Harry had a crush on Cho, not Snape, and he never once asked Sirius or Remus for help with his 'technique'.
Note: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent 
Feedback: Kcdove1013@aol.com

NOBODY WANTS TO BE ALONE ON CHRISTMAS

Harry curled up tighter in the large bed. He was sad, cold and lonely. Christmas defenses were apparently at less than optimal because most of the teachers were on vacation. With Voldemort's recent rise in power, this of course meant that he had to be hidden during the break.

He didn't mind so much, as almost anything was better than the Dursleys, after all, but Ron and Hermione were usually with him during the holidays and Dumbledore had asked them to go home for this one. The headmaster had talked to Harry's best friends and they'd come out of his office with serious (and slightly mutinous, in Ron's case) expressions.

They didn't want to leave, but they had to. They each seemed to be hiding something, but Harry excepted them at face value and didn't question the trip to the owlery right after the meeting, where they each sent off a small parcel and a quick note along with a letter they later explained was from Dumbledore.

It was Christmas Eve and they were both probably happy and warm. Or, Harry suddenly realized how late it really was, most likely they're asleep.

A noise from the door made him bolt up, race halfway there and then run back to the bedside table to grab his wand and invisibility cloak.

Wrapped securely in his dad's old cloak and holding his wand, he cautiously opened the door. Only to star in shock at the two men standing in front of him, frowning.

"Harry?"

Oh, the cloak! Harry felt a flush of embarrassment was in order, but he was still in shock at seeing his godfather and his...what exactly was Professor Lupin to him, anyway? His godwerewolf? He made a note to ask and let the cloak slip to the floor.

"What?" He tried to ask what they were doing here, why Sirius was putting himself in danger, and maybe toss in the question of his ex professor's relation to him at the end, but all he could get out was the very beginning and then, shockingly and embarrassingly and oddly enough, there were tears in his eyes and he was grabbing Sirius and decided that it didn't matter whether Remus was his godwerewolf or not, he was /here/, dammit, and that was all that mattered. He pulled a very surprised werewolf into a slightly awkward group hug.

Hands brushed through his hair gently and he sniffed, pulling away. "Sorry..." He mumbled, looking down to hide his tear stained face but a hand tilted his head up. Sirius. He gave his godfather a weak smile.

Sirius smiled at him and it was wobbly enough for Harry to realize Sirius had tears in his eyes, too. He felt a little better. He risked a peek at his ex professor and was a little surprised to see the same telltale damp there as well.

He cleared his throat, "Um...oh! Come in, please..." He blushed. "Sorry for...er...attacking you in the hall."

Sirius laughed as he and Remus walked in. "Oh, I don't know...an attractive young man? I've had worse things flung at me." He grinned, shutting the door. "I'm sure Moony agrees."

Remus laughed, sitting down on a slightly worn couch. "Oh, you're just mad he pulled me in.couldn't grab a feel with me there."

Harry had the feeling he was red as the scarlet on his tie. "Guys..." He couldn't help but smile. "I know you're playing, but thanks anyway."

A surprised look passed between the older men as Sirius joined Remus on the couch. "Playing?" Remus asked.

Harry nodded absently, trying to remember what he'd done with the gifts he'd bought for them. Since he hadn't thought he'd be seeing them, he'd tucked the presents away to keep them from depressing him. "Hm...I'm sure you've both had offers from blokes ten times as good-looking as me." He said, opening his trunk and beginning to sort the odds and ends.

"Are you kidding?"

"Wha-" Harry started to ask, but a bit of fluff from one of his quills had floated onto his upper lip. Nose wrinkled, he tried to blow it away to no avail. After a few attempts at this he sighed, plucking it off in annoyance.

Sirius chuckled, "Harry...you're..."

"Awkward?" He offered wryly.

"Cute. Like...a puppy." Sirius grinned.

"A puppy?" Harry echoed, not sure if he should feel insulted or not.

"Sirius," Remus intoned solemnly. Harry might've believed the voice if not for the laughter barely suppressed evident in his eyes. "I'm not sure you should compare someone you want to molest to a canine of any kind."

Harry jerked his gaze back to Sirius.

"Aw, Moony...I hadn't even thought of that, actually." His face lit up mischievously. He turned the look on Remus. "But I want to molest you, too! And you /are/ a canine..."

Remus smirked a little, "Oh, darling, you never told me." He said dryly.

Harry was gaping at the two adults. "Um...right." He shook his head and went back to his search, but he was smiling. Then he found them. "Yes!" He sat back on his heels, the rush of triumph at finding them fading under uncertainty. What if they didn't like them? He bit his lip and then walked over to them, shoved their presents at them and then bit his lip and sat leaning against the legs of the settee, facing the fire.

There was a brief pause, then the sound of tearing paper followed by silence.

Sirius broke it first. "Harry..." He said thickly, tears evident in his voice. Harry turned.

He had gone through all the pictures Hagrid had given him during his first year and set aside all the ones with Sirius in them. Then he'd gone and asked Hagrid if there were any pictures he'd kept with any of his parents old friends.

Hagrid had been a bit reluctant at first- he still thought Sirius guilty- but eventually caved under Harry's wide-eyed gaze, guiltily handing the remaining pictures over. Harry had felt bad tricking Hagrid like that, but Dumbledore hadn't told Hagrid the truth about Sirius yet, and had his reasons. So Harry had shaken the feeling off as best he could and assembled as much of Sirius' life before Azkaban as he could as a present.

It had taken a week to gather the effects for the main part of the present. He'd bought a Pensieve and memorized the charms used to save memories in the silvery stuff he later learned was mercury. Once he was certain he'd remember the charms properly, he'd started experimenting with different memory charms until he'd found one that did what he wanted- activating faded, old and forgotten memories.

A little more tampering, a few muted explosions in an unused indoor Herbology classroom (apparently for theory-work) and a few of the more personal pictures were stored as memories in the Pensieve. Then he'd added the memory he'd always carry from the end of Third year, when he'd learned of Sirius' innocence and the joy he'd felt at having a family.

Professor Lupin had been harder. Harry wasn't sure what his old professor would want. It had been four Hogsmeade weekends of semi-frantic searching before he'd realized what the perfect gift would be. It'd been inspired by a gag-gift that was part of Madame Rosmerta's Christmas promotion- a goblet that never ran out of butterbeer.

Harry had immediately thought that something like that would be perfect for his old professor when he was away from someone who could make his Wolfsbane potion, so he had asked Rosmerta how the enchanted cups worked. It had required three charms, layered over one and another and then it had to be immersed in the substance it was to provide for three days.

Harry had written down the names of the charms and thanked Rosmerta profusely, then told Ron and Hermione that he was going back to Hogwarts early. They'd been a little concerned, but he'd put them off by saying he'd eaten too many Chocolate Frogs.

He'd gone to the library directly after returning to the castle and was pleased to find the first charms in highly advanced, but still accusable texts in the general section of the library. He was slightly disappointed to find that the third potion, the one to bind the substance into the metal of the goblet itself, wasn't. He'd gone to the headmaster the next morning to obtain a note to get the required text.

The first charm, Tempus Relatus, was the easiest. It was a simple time-setting spell. He had to tweak with it a bit to get it set properly, but after an hour he had it set for the every full moon and the surrounding days and all he had to do was actually charm a cup.

The second charm, the one that would recreate the substance whenever it was needed, had to be cast within an hour of the first one or it wouldn't be valid, so he'd decided to wait until the next night to actually cast the charm. He'd spent the rest of the day researching metals to see what kind of cup would be best to use.

He'd been more than glad to let Hermione and Ron have some "alone time" and used the next day in Hogsmeade to look for the right goblet. He'd decided on something with iron or gold in it and he'd even looked up some appropriate gems, just in case. His search had taken the entire day and he'd ended up in a sedate corner of Hogsmeade. The lack of gag shops or pubs and the like probably explained the lack of students.

He'd eventually wandered into a shop with some stone/metal jewelry in the window on the off chance that there'd be something he could use. He'd found it. It was almost eerie how perfect the goblet was...iron base with the top covered in gold filigree and different stones ringing the neck.

The owner had been a little reluctant at first, but after watching Harry seriously examine the goblet in the display case, he let him handle it. Unsurprisingly, it had been heavy- all that iron- but it had had a low grade tingle Harry had come to associate with the hospital wing. The gold must be fairly pure, he realized. He'd fingered the stones while deciding not to question the fact they were all for healing and balance. He'd bought the cup and decided not to mention it. The purchase had set him back a great deal and he doubted his next shopping spree would seem anything more than miserly, but he'd gotten and paid for the very best.

That night he'd cast the first two charms. The next day, he'd gotten permission from Dumbledore to look up the third charm and his advice to ask Professor Snape for some Wolfsbane as soon as he could.

He'd memorized the last charm, the one tying the first two finally into the goblet and cement what the cup would fill with deep in the settings, then sucked it up and asked Snape for his help.

A month and a half later, Harry peeked up at the two men from his hair, momentarily grateful it had started growing. Sirius was staring at the pictures with an almost uncomprehending look, holding the Pensieve gently. Harry realized he didn't know what was already swirling in the mercury. He bit his lip and then spoke. "Tap it with your wand."

Sirius looked up briefly uncomprehending and tears in his eyes, before he realized Harry meant the Pensieve. He blinked against the tears and nodded, setting the pictures next to him gently. He pulled out the wand Dumbledore had retrieved from storage and gently tapped the Pensieve sitting on the end table.

And image of Lily hugging James and both smiling at everyone, the memory closest to the surface, apparently, swirled up and then revolved in the air.

Sirius gasped, right hand jerking in shock as the left one reached out to touch Harry's parents. But jerking his wand as he had forced another memory to the surface and an image of Harry, all of thirteen years old, beamed at a person to the left of him they couldn't see. "Of course I want to live with you!" The projection said, excitement obvious in his voice.

"Harry...I." Sirius sounded so vulnerable and choked up, Harry couldn't resist the urge to crawl over to him and hug him for dear life. "I'm sorry, Sirius. God, I-" He sniffed and wondered when he'd started to cry.

Sirius wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders and pulled him up into an uncomfortable, much-needed hug. "Sh, Harry, it's okay..." He pressed his lips to Harry's damp cheek and Harry's arms tightened convulsively. "Sirius...sorry, so sorry, should've let you- you'd be free if I'd-"

"Sh, sh, it's okay, it's alright." He spoke against Harry's skin, crying himself and never pulling away from contact long. He pressed more near-hysterical kisses against Harry's face.

Harry gasped for air and turned his head and his lips pressed to Sirius' and their foreheads collided with a small thud. "God, Sirius, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault you aren't free." He spoke against Sirius' mouth, trying to stay as close as possible.

But Sirius gripped his shoulders gently and pushed him away. "No, Harry, you were right." He pressed their foreheads back together and smiled weakly at Harry.

Harry shrugged, disbelieving but willing to drop the subject. "Look at us- anyone watching'd think we're barmy." His eyes slid to his old professor's. "Professor Lupin probably does anyway."

Remus smirked a little, though he looked slightly uncomfortable. "I've always known Sirius was a few sheets short." He confided.

Harry suddenly realized he was in his godfather's lap and slid off, blushing. "Sorry..." He mumbled. Sirius wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled him close, body shaking a little in the aftermath of his almost-breakdown.

Harry suddenly realized Remus probably had no idea what his gift did. "Professor? That's a real special cup." He bit his lip. "I know you can't always be at Hogwarts for Snape to make the Wolfsbane potion for you, so I...uh...tampered. With a few charms. And that'll fill up with the potion whenever you touch it three times on the full moon or the days before and after."

Remus stared down at the goblet he'd been holding absently during Sirius and Harry's episode. He licked his lips. "So. In two days..."

Harry nodded, poked Sirius in the ribs to get him to lift his arm, then leaned over toward Remus' side of the settee. He pointed to the gems and said, "It'll fill up with the potion when you touch it. These gems aren't just pretty add-ons, too, with the iron and the gold, they should sort of...boost the way the potion keeps the balance between you and your wolf during the change and maybe make it a little easier." He smiled happily.

Remus stared down in shock. "This is all- this is all real? Harry, this must have cost a great deal..."

Harry nodded ruefully. "It did, yeah. Won't be buying much the next Hogsmeade weekend, that's for sure." He shrugged. "But it was worth it. Because you're..." He blushed but forged on ahead, like a true Gryffindor. Like a fool, he thought wryly. "You're important to me."

He suddenly leaned over and clutched Remus quickly in a flash of a hug before sitting back between the men, face positively flaming and staring resolutely at the fire. "So! What've you two been up to, then?" He asked, determined to change the subject.

Sirius and Remus exchanged a look and then they pounced on Harry, hugging him tightly. After a minute, with Harry squirming and laughing all the way, they relaxed their hold and just held him loosely between them.

"Nothing near as interesting as all this." Sirius said, a hand drifting up to the nape of Harry's neck and running through the hair, gently tugging when they got to the ends. "Thank you, Harry."

Remus hummed agreement and then pressed his forehead into Harry's neck. "Thank you." He echoed quietly, overcome.

Harry shrugged a little, embarrassed beyond words. "Merry Christmas." He said. Then, lower, "I'm glad you're here."

Remus pulled back a little and looked at him. "Where else would we be?"

Sirius nodded his agreement. "Honestly, Harry..."

Harry decided that when he grew up, he wanted to marry his godfather. Or, he suddenly decided after being tickled by Sirius, maybe he'd marry Remus and they'd keep Sirius as a pet.

He sighed, relaxing into the sort of lumpy half-couch and leaning back into the arms around his shoulders and decided that the earlier loneliness had been worth it. Anything was worth this feeling. He was home.

Fin

SPIKE/XANDER

Title: Fringe Benefits
Author: Minim Calibre
RATING: R
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Disclaimer. BtVS and all the characters are not mine. They belong to Mutant Enemy, Joss Whedon, 20th Century Fox, et al. Just playing in their sandbox.
Note: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent
Feedback Email address: cicada@cablespeed.com

FRINGE BENEFITS

"I believe this is what they call a Mexican standoff." Xander glared at Spike. Spike glared right back.

"Bit racist, don't you think?"

"What?" Right. Soul. Spike's changed, blah blah blah.

"Well, you know, the implication that somehow people from Mexico are less able to resolve conflicts. Just seems a bit unfair, that's all."

"Spike, I think I liked you better before the soul. In fact, I know I did."

"Fair enough, though I can't see why that would be."

The reasonableness, that was the worst thing. Or maybe it was the calm, low tone of voice, as if Spike thought he was talking to a child. Or maybe the worst thing was the whole situation, complete with the no-staking order from Buffy.

"Look, Spike, I already told you the last time you stayed here that if you're going to use the microwave to heat up your blood, you need to clean up any spills." Xander tried for the same low, reasonable inflection Spike was using, but couldn't quite manage it.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"Could you stop? With the apologies, with the nice-nice? Because you're beginning to give me the creeps here. No, not beginning. You *are* giving me the creeps. And strangely, more so than you did when all you wanted to do was kill me."

Spike just tilted his head. Man, he hated it when Spike did that. Not that were many things he approved of Spike doing. Actually, when he thought about it, the last thing Xander remembered thinking might have been a good Spike idea was the whole self-staking business. Yellow crayon or no, he still hadn't quite forgiven Willow for convincing him that keeping Spike alive was a good thing. Or at least less "ooky" than letting him commit Spike-uku in the basement.

"Listen, as long as you're here, the rules are simple: no leaving bloodstains in the kitchen, no sneaking out to kill people, and no sex with women I care about."

"What about sex with you?"

Okay. Doubletake. No, make that tripletake. Possibly the rare quadrupletake. "What?"

"You heard me."

"Alrighty then. Should I chalk this one down to, oh, I don't know--total insanity?"

"No, it's just that you're keeping me here, against your will, and I'm trying to make things right."

"Let me get this straight: you're pimping yourself for room and board?"

"You make it seem like something sordid, and that's not the case."

"Okay, then. You're offering me a sympathy fuck." Nope. Still wasn't making sense. Worse still was how damned earnest Spike looked, like he'd be mortally wounded if Xander didn't take him up on the offer. Which was more than enough reason to not do it.

"Well, it was good enough for Buffy and Anya, don't see as how you're so far above them."

Right, breathing. Slow, calm. In. Out. In. Out. Anything to keep from staking the annoying vampire offering him... well, offering him something he hadn't had in a while. And really, there was no reason the idea should sound so appealing, but...

"Things. Not good for me," Xander muttered.

"What's that, then?"

"Nothing. Just talking to myself, as tends to happen when the only other option is, say, talking to a CRAZY person."

"You knew I was crazy when you took me in, so I don't see what the big shocker is there."

Reasonable again. And, much as he hated to admit it, in possession of a point. Not much of one, mind you, but enough of one to just barely get under the skin.

"Fine. So I knew you were nuts. Like that's a big shock. And you think this would make me willing to screw you because why?"

"Thought you might be lonely is all. Anya off finding herself, you here in this large apartment with nothing better to do than complain about my housekeeping. It's obvious that you're frustrated."

That was a much larger point. A point that could, like the Great Wall of China, be seen from space.

"Okay, so we'll fuck. But no kissing." Hell, he had to get something from the arrangement, didn't he?

"Why not? You ashamed of shagging me?"

"Yes, but more to the point, you've got blood-breath."

"They do make mouthwash, you know."

"Yes, and I spend my hard-earned money on it, which means that I get to decide who in my house uses it, and that who's not you."

"Well, fair's fair. So, you want to go to the bedroom, or just get things over with?"

"'If it were done when tis done, then twere well It were done quickly'." Spike cocked a brow at him--the sexy, scarred one, the bastard. "What? You think I can't know my Shakespeare? I went to school. Have my slightly singed diploma to prove it, even."

The head tilted again, but Spike was going down on his knees in front of Xander, which somehow made the whole thing less annoying and more... arousing. Seductive. Like when Anya'd--right. Spike.

Spike, who had managed to somehow work Xander's pants down to Xander's knees while Xander had been busy trying to figure out just the right word for the whole head tilt effect.

First thought through his head was that Spike's mouth was nowhere near as cold as he'd somehow expected it to be, not that he'd expended that much in the way of brainpower on the subject. There was no second thought. Things felt too good for there to be a second thought.

Slow, soft, gentle pressure of lukewarm lips around his cock turned to a harder, more insistent suction. A slim, supple tongue played with the sensitive skin just below the head, and cool hands stroked his hips and balls. Xander threw back his head and mouthed a silent prayer of thanks for Spike's complete lack of a need to come up for air. A couple of seconds later, he mouthed another one for the lack of a gag reflex as his hips jerked and he came into something other than his own hand for the first time in months.

"Better?"

Xander blinked at the sound of Spike's voice. "Somewhat, yeah."

"So, I'm forgiven for the mess I made in the microwave?"

They were back to staring at each other, but the tension had gone out of it. Xander grinned at Spike. "Sure, until next time."

Given Spike's style of housekeeping, he figured he wouldn't have too long to wait.

END

KIRK/SPOCK

Title: "It Just Had To Happen Sometime"
Author: MadByrd
Category: PWP, holiday ficlet
Fandom: Star Trek
Pairing: Jim/Spock ... and some wishful thinking on somebody else's part
Feedback: Beam it here: mreddy@nf.sympatico.ca 
Rating: R
Summary: Kirk makes Spock, Bones makes a discovery, and the Klingons make everybody's day.
Spoilers & Such: You mean there's actually somebody out there who *hasn't* seen TOS about a zillion times already? Fascinating. Illogical, but fascinating.
Notes: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent 
Warnings: The milk and cookies are for Santa, not the tribbles. Feed them and I'll give *you* to the Klingons. Understood?
Disclaimers: Certainly they're mine; I bought 'em from Cyrano Jones at forty-five credits apiece. Here's my bill of sale. ::sensor scans the paper and after a suitably long dramatic pause Byrdie screeches at the top of her lungs:: WHADDYA MEAN IT'S A FORGERY???!!! ¨

IT JUST HAD TO HAPPEN SOMETIME

Christmas Eve. Anywhere on Earth -- and a few other planets as well -- the bright colored lights would be a symbol of rejoicing. On the U.S.S. Enterprise the display meant nothing but trouble. And since most of the lights were flashing red it was quite obviously *big* trouble. And in this particular sector of space, the source of it could only be ...

"Klingons." James T. Kirk swore a very crude oath usually heard only in the lowest brothels on Rigel 12. Now? They had to attack *now*? Bloody bastards had no consideration, didn't even know the meaning of the word. Otherwise they'd have waited till he was done fucking a certain hot-assed Vulcan right through the bulkheads of their quarters -- and probably halfway to Engineering -- before picking a fight. But no, that was apparently *too* much to ask of the Universe. Even on Christmas. It would seem he was doomed to another night of sexual frustration.

Which was one night too many. "Ready main phasers," he ordered.

"Main phasers armed and ready, sir."

"Fire at will, Mr. Sulu."

His crew exchanged significant glances. Oh my, Kirk *was* in a snit. Pity that poor Klingon commander, he had to be the dumbest *and* the unluckiest S.O.B. that ever lived.

***********

TWO DAYS AFTER:

It became obvious that nobody else wanted to argue the Federation's right to be in this particular quadrant. So it was back to the "seek out strange worlds, explore new civilizations" bit. At the moment, that translated to updating their star charts and since neither of the command officers were required to be on the bridge nobody took note of their absence.

It was noted, but scarcely remarked upon, that the pair returned several hours later wearing hickeys and silly, well-fucked grins, though being half Vulcan, Spock's was invisible. They also walked just a wee bit duckishly and had the tendency on sitting down -- which was only when absolutely necessary -- to do so with caution

***********

SICKBAY: ABOUT SIX WEEKS LATER

"Bones? Is he all right? He said it was probably just a slight touch of the 'flu but ..." Kirk paced anxiously up and down, his emotions alternating between anger at the latest episode of typical Spock stubbornness and fear for the life of his bondmate. McCoy suppressed the urge to tell him to sit down before he wore a hole in the deck. Honestly, Kirk could be *such* a drama queen. Instead he settled for giving his patient another once-over with the Feinberger. It made the same bizarre set of chirps as the first three instruments had. No mistake. He couldn't resist a grin. Trust the Enterprise to make the record books again, not to mention headlines. When the holonet tabloids got hold of *this* ...

"But Vulcans don't get the 'flu, at least not the strain that's been going around lately. However ..." Kirk froze. He really didn't like it when McCoy said however. That always meant something was wrong. He clutched his lover's hand tightly. "Tell me -- tell *us* -- what's wrong."

"Nothing at all that time won't cure." Bones paused, sizing them both up. They were such a hot pair. If only he killed that thought immediately. He'd have a much better chance of winning a snowball fight with old Nick whenever Hell froze over. Still, a guy could dream.

When it came to these two, his dreams were triple-X rated.

Spock, now that his queasy stomach had settled, arched an eyebrow. Bones drooled. "Doctor, would you please get on with it?"

"All right. Congratulations, you're pregnant."

"He's *what?!*"

"I fail to see the humor ..." McCoy cut him off. "It's no joke. You're approximately five and a half weeks into a healthy pregnancy." He scowled, anticipating the next remark. "And before you start to lecture me on the subject, I'm quite well aware that you're not a woman."

"Then how...?" Jim blushed. It made him look boyishly cute! McCoy's prick twitched. *Down, you sex fiend! He's already taken. They both are. By each other, worse luck.*

"How'd he get a bun in the oven?" Bones chuckled. For intelligent men, these two could be so naive at times. This was one of them. "It had to happen sooner or later -- you *have* been having sex ever since his pon farr."

A pair of green cheeks matched Kirk's red ones. Still a delicate subject then, though he honestly couldn't see why. T'pring, that shameless hussy, had done Spock a big favor by dumping him for the jerk she'd been screwing behind their families' backs. Then again, she'd also done her damndest to make him kill the one he really wanted. If not for a trick or two up McCoy's and T'pau's sleeves -- now *there* was a smart old broad -- she'd have succeeded. Which, come to think of it, was rather humiliating.

"There is no need to be insulting," Spock snarked at him. Not that he minded, besides, this time he really could blame it on hormones. He continued, "It seems that a second set of eyelids aren't the only spare parts that Vulcans come equipped with. Some of them anyway. About ten percent of the population -- male and female -- are born hermaphrodites, becoming fully functional on bonding with a same-gender spouse."

He didn't think it possible, but Jim's jaw dropped even farther. And poor Spock looked ...well, to say totally stunned was an exercise in understatement. Bones felt like wringing somebody's neck; Sarek's or Amanda's, either would do. They really should have told their son *all* the facts of life.

"B-but he doesn't have a ..." Kirk stammered out. "How will the baby be born? *Please, don't let him say the C- word, that's totally barbaric.*

"With males, the differences are all internal, at least until they get pregnant. And he *will* have one of those in a few more days, so you needn't worry about surgery." Well, thank God for that. But... "Should he be on active duty? What about...?" Bones held up a hand. "He's fit as a fiddle, Jim. Aside from the morning sickness, for which I recommend ginger tea and crackers. As for the *other* matter, if it's what I think you're talking about, here, try this."

He tossed him a small foil tube."Just use it as directed and have a good time."

Kirk read the label. Smirked and showed it to his t'hyla, who remarked. "I assure you, Doctor McCoy, we have no need of personal lubricant."

True, they probably had tons of the stuff stashed in every nook and cranny of their quarters. He knew *he* would. "Not this kind. It contains a mild, safe analgesic. Which you're going to need; it turns out that with Vulcans -- the males anyway -- as pregnancy advances sexual desire increases. You'll both be thanking me when he's ten months along and begging for it eight, nine times a day."

"Nine...times...?" That was as far as he got. Even James T. Kirk, Starfleet Superstud, couldn't imagine getting it up nine times a day. *Every* day, until his pregnant male partner gave birth. Hell, he'd wear it out, he was only flesh and blood after all. Bones correctly interpreted his glazed expression. "Look on the bright side, Jim. It does solve your Klingon problem...to a degree."

"How so?"

"Well, their entire society revolves around their prowess as warriors. Which is why they keep on challenging the Enterprise, specifically, her Captain." Spock looked interested, perhaps there was some hope for human logic after all. McCoy preened as if he'd just been paid a huge compliment. He went on."Their home planet is so harsh that only the strongest, fiercest of warriors live long enough to reproduce. And get the pick of the available fertile females." He grinned devilishly."The next Klingon battle cruiser we meet won't be shooting at us, they'll be coming courting instead."

Oh my, was that yes, indeed, the allegedly emotionless Vulcan was glaring his displeasure. "Explain."

"I should think it was rather obvious," the doctor said mildly. "As a warrior potent enough to have achieved the impossible -- as far as the Klingons are concerne -- and gotten a *man* with child, our good captain here has just become the ultimate prize in the matrimony game. With yourself a very close second, being as you're the man he's ::ahem:: knocked up."

"He is already married," Spock growled. "To *me*"

"Which as everybody knows, is hardly an obstacle, what with Vulcans and Klingons both accepting polymarital unions." *They're not the only ones, I'd take you both in a heartbeat, if ever it was offered.*

"Yes, well, I wouldn't worry too much, doctor. And as for you..." Jim smiled and kissed his beloved's pout away. "You should know by now that I haven't the slightest inclination to play hide-the-salami with even *one* Klingon, let alone a whole bunch. No matter how persistent they get."

Spock leaned into the tender embrace. Whew! Crisis averted. A jealous Vulcan, he reminded himself for the umpteenth time, was a force to be reckoned with. There might be scarier things in space, but Mrs. McCoy's pride and joy hadn't seen them. He hoped he never would.

"Go on, get out of here," he mock-griped at them. "Go home and screw each other's brains out, it'll do you all the good in the world."

Jim gave a little bark of laughter and Spock's eyes brightened -- the Vulcan equivalent of hilarity. "Maybe it will at that."

And off they went, leaving the bemused McCoy to ponder what Spock had said to him right before the sickbay doors swooshed shut: *"When we wish to take another bondmate, he will be neither Klingon nor Vulcan."*

***********

At an absolutely ungodly hour in the middle of the night, or what passed for night in the depths of space, a tired old country doctor woke up smiling. Then he started grinning like an idiot because he'd finally figured it out. Damn pair of cock teases, they'd known all along. And they weren't mad with him. If anything, the opposite was true.

"When," the pointy-eared imp had said. Not "if" but when. Which meant they *were* considering marriage with another husband. Probably had been considering it for quite awhile, since the comment had been made so casually.

Maybe -- on second thought, there were no "maybes" about it -- he'd win that snowball fight after all.

*************** THE END ********************