ADVENT STORIES FOR
DECEMBER 1

CLARK/LEX

Title: By the Chimney, with Care
RATING:, PG.
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Fandom, Smallville
Disclaimer. I know, this is probably completely against physics, or known science in general. But that's nothing new for Smallville, so I'm choosing to ignore truth, in favor of beauty. I don't own Clark, or Lex, but I can't help wanting to curl up with them by a roaring fire.
Note: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent
Feedback is my Hanukah Gelt: HYPERFocused@aol.com

By the Chimney, With Care

It was such a small thing, set against the stone backdrop of the castle's giant fireplace. Red felt, with just a little silver glitter, spelling out "L E X" in precise, even letters. He had made it with his mother, one winter day, when he was young enough to believe. He hadn't seen it since the year she died. Now, it was filled with small, hard examples, of his father's sick, black heart. How blind Lionel had managed such a feat was a mystery.

Lex remembered the stocking filled with candy, and small, special gifts, in happier times. After Lillian's death, he'd put it up on the mantelpiece himself, wishing it could contain what he really wanted. It couldn't, of course. Nothing would bring her back.

Lionel had ripped it down, saying "Grow up, Lex. You're too old for fantasies and children's games." Lex felt like he aged five years in that moment, or perhaps even died himself. Certainly Christmas would never be anything but bitter for him again.

And it wasn't. Holidays, like all days, were testaments to his melancholy, broken up by periods of forced illucidity Lex became intimately familiar with his father's guest closets, and could tell the difference between mink and muskrat, worsted wool and camel hair, just by feel. He was a prince, who felt like a coat check boy.

There had been no holiday magic in his life for years. His spirit had been kicked like an abused puppy, broken, like the train set his father had never helped him set up.

Rescue came, finally, when he was twenty-two years old, in the form of Clark Kent -- the boy who'd saved him from drowning, and every day, saved him from succumbing to his own dark thoughts.

Now Clark was sitting by the fireplace, arms open, to hold his lover in a warm embrace. A heated glance at the cold embers, and the fire began to glow brightly, bringing warmth to the room, to match the passion he felt for Lex.

"This is what I think of your father, Lex" he said, reaching into the stocking, and pulling out the contents. He concentrated, and squeezed the small lump of coal as hard as he could.

"And this is what I think of you." He opened his hand, revealing a diamond -- uncut, of course, but of obvious quality. "You see, Lex, no matter how your father tries to hurt you, or turn people against you, all I see is the flawless gem you've become. Pressure breaks some people, but it's only honed you. While I wouldn't wish parts of your life on my worst enemy, you wouldn't be the man I love, without those experiences."

"Thanks, Clark" was all Lex could say, as he tried to process Clark's immense strength, both physical, and emotional. He sank closer into Clark's arms, kissing him.

"If I were you, Clark, I'd keep this ability very quiet, as well. We wouldn't want to ruin the diamond market." Lex said, laughing, He was finally able to breathe.

***

Christmas morning, and Lex was curled up next to Clark, at Clark's parents house. A stocking with Clark's name on it hung on the fireplace. Alongside it, was a new one for Lex. Inside each, was a pair of matching tie tacks, with small, but flawless diamonds, Someday, there would be rings, but now, it was enough to know their love for each other covered every facet of their lives.

END

HARRY/SNAPE

Title: A Hogwart’s Christmas
Author: Lillian
Rating: R for slashy themes and language
Pairing: Severus/Harry
Warnings: AU, Angst, sap
Feedback: Lillian02025@yahoo.com
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: Not owned by me. No infringement intended. No money made.
Summary: It is a time of celebration held during a time of war.
Authors Notes: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent  This story is set in my “Slytherin Bond” universe. To wit: Harry and Severus were married in the beginning of his sixth year when Harry mistakenly loosed a spell that garnered him a husband---Severus. This is Harry and Severus’ second Christmas together. By the way thoughts are indicated by // //. With many thanks to my beta MeLi she’s just the best.

A HOGWART’S CHRISTMAS

Harry slowly pulled out the last gifts to be wrapped from the bin provided by Dobby. There were more students than ever staying at Hogwarts during the Christmas break. Many parents had felt that their children were safer at Hogwarts than at home and had, regretfully, informed their children that they were expected to stay. Owls had started delivering the bad news weeks ago and more than one tearful child had found comfort in Headmaster Dumbledore’s office sharing their confidences and his candies. Dumbledore had promised them a holiday to remember with a party and games plus a holiday shopping day in Hogsmeade.

Personally, Harry thought the children would have been happier with less amusements and more time with their parents. Even the first and second years knew that any moment might be their last with them. Families both muggle and wizard had tried to keep things as normal as possible for their children, but little could be done to restore the childhood that was being stolen from them by the dark arts and the evil of Voldemort.

Since the end of Harry’s sixth term at Hogwarts, the war with Voldemort had escalated to dizzying heights. No longer were there just “random” attacks occurring, but large-scale devastation of both muggle and wizarding families. Very few children in Hogwarts had not lost a relative or friend in the ongoing struggle. Black armbands were common in the school.

In the seventh year class at least a third of the Slytherin’s as well as a small number of Ravenclaws had not returned to Hogwarts to finish their education. Dumbledore and Severus sadly concluded that these children were lost to them. More than likely they were now draftees into Voldemort’s deatheaters ranks.

Among the missing students from the Slytherin class were Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle, as well as some students that Harry hadn’t known very well. Harry knew that at Durmstrang the amount had been even higher. At least fifty percent of the older student population had not returned to finish their seventh year. Not surprising really, considering the fact that the dark arts were taught there, but depressing none the less.

//The next time we’ll see most of them will be on a battlefield somewhere//.

Harry’s heart felt like a stone in his chest. Muggles believed that “terrorism” had run amok. That was true in essence, but the reason was that Lord Voldemort had planned to let muggles destroy muggles while he concentrated on the Wizard families that opposed him. To that end, he had reached out to the darkest of hearts among the muggles and had woven his dark spells to incite them to bloody riot. Few evil muggles required more than a slight nudge from the dark lord, much to his perverted amusement.

Aurors were busy twenty-four hours a day trying to keep up with the sheer number of Voldemort’s attacks. There was even a contingent of them now stationed at Hogwarts. There were two reasons for this initially, one was to beef up security for the students and the second less altruistic one was to recruit seventh years for the Auror training once they had completed their schooling.

Dumbledore had been very firm with the representatives that were housed at Hogwarts. They were prohibited from openly soliciting *any* of the students. Only those with a ‘calling’ to the paramilitary Aurors would receive the extra classes given this year. Even then the student must initiate the contact with the Auror representative on campus as well as getting permission from his or her parents to take the supplemental classes. If when they graduated they still felt they wanted to join, they could fill out the necessary “official” paperwork at the ministry.

The Aurors that had been sent to Hogwarts had all been students themselves there at one point or another, which gave them an added advantage. Most of them were quite young; only a few years older than Harry and his mates.

Harry smiled when he remembered the overzealous young Auror who had tried to sit in Severus’ classroom. His name was John Quick and had only graduated three years before from Hogwarts

He had come scuttling out of Severus’ classroom of first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws like a crab dancing backwards as Severus’ had followed threatening to hex him into oblivion.

Harry had been a witness to John’s hasty retreat. There had even been a tinkling of laughter from Severus’ students. The story related by Professor Sprout, who had been in the hallway with Harry, had become the highlight of the Staff Meeting later that evening.

Harry had asked Severus about it later.

“The monumental hubris of the boy. As if I couldn’t protect my own students. Cheeky bastard,” Severus growled.

Harry grinned as he finished up the last of the gifts for the Christmas Grab. They were only small gifts, but an additional little surprise to put a smile on the student’s faces. Yesterday the last of the students going home for the winter break had left and those remaining behind had become a little more somber. Tonight would feature the gift grab event and tomorrow the Professors would act as chaperones for the Christmas shopping day in Hogsmeade.

Stockings had been hung all around the Great Hall with the remaining students names on them. Gifts of food, small toys and sickles, knuts and galleons were the featured items. Dumbledore had made sure that those students from the less well off families would receive the galleons. Tomorrow’s shopping day in Hogsmeade would be a success for everyone involved if he could help it.

As Harry finished up with his wrapping he heard the stone wall grinding back, which indicated that Severus had finally returned from grading the papers in his office.

“You work too hard love, put up your feet and I’ll get you some brandy,” Harry said as he gathered up the last of the Christmas wrapping.

“I don’t suppose you’ve been lying abed all day, either. Dumbledore apparently has apparently recruited you into the decorating committee,” Severus said with a small glower.

“I don’t mind. It makes it feel more like Christmas. Only four more days, you know.” Harry said, handing Severus his evening glass of brandy.

“Don’t remind me,” Severus began. “How I ended up volunteering to chaperone a group of first and second years tomorrow is beyond me. I must be slipping,” he muttered.

Harry chuckled. “I can just see you now.”

“The Slytherin chits will stay in line. They know better. But what am I to do with that blasted group of first year Hufflepuffs? The mind boggles,” Severus took a long swallow from his glass.

Harry smirked a little. “You know Sev, I think you’ve got a soft spot for the Hufflepuffs despite all your protestations.”

Severus sat up straighter in his chair and glared at Harry. “Don’t be daft, Harry. They’re useless. Over emotional crybabies. If I had my way, they wouldn’t have a house here at all,” Severus said with what was close to a fit of pique.

“I know you don’t mean that, Sev,” Harry said quietly. “It’s the Hufflepuffs more than any other house that are joining the Aurors for training. They’re deeply loyal to our cause and very steadfast friends.”

“More fools, them,” said Severus with a practiced sneer. “They’ll die all the sooner,” but he looked away morosely into the fire and said no more.

Harry knew Severus couldn’t or wouldn’t speak about his feelings. The war raged on and he knew Severus felt agitated and depressed. At least while he had been a spy for the Order of the Phoenix he’d felt like he was making a contribution, but once he’d married Harry his career as a spy had ended as well.

Severus worked night and day on potions for the front line troops. Making healing potions, memory potions as well as truth serums. Once his classes were through for the day, he spent at least several hours a night working on supplying potions to the Ministry for various uses.

Harry continued with his classes and extra DADA training. He and Severus were acutely aware that their time together would be limited once he graduated. Sooner or later Voldemort would have to be faced down one final time. Harry had promised that Severus would be at his side when that time came. They would stand or fall together.

Harry shook off his sad thoughts. //Enough. It’s almost Christmas. I want to make happy memories for us.//

Harry moved in front of his husband. Severus flicked an eyebrow up at him. Harry then plunked himself down directly into Severus’ lap.

Harry kissed Severus lightly, teasingly, and slowly unbuttoned Severus’ robes.

“And what are you about,” Severus growled in a low tone.

“If you don’t know, it’s been too long for you,” Harry smirked as he ran a finger over one of Severus’ nipples.

The nipple obligingly tightened and stood up proudly. Harry opened the robes still further and began to lick first one nipple and then lavished his attention on the other.

Severus reached for Harry’s buttocks and pulled him even further forward. He grabbed his wand off the table beside the chair and whispered an incantation. Harry and Severus’ clothes vanished in the wink of an eye.

Severus ran his hand along Harry’s silken hard cock, which was already leaking precum. Harry gasped as Severus continued to stroke him and fondle his balls.

“Now, Mr. Potter, what were you saying?”

“I was saying that we should move this into the bedroom now…” Harry squeaked.

************************************************************************

The next morning in the Great Hall each House started to assemble all their students. The sixth and seventh years were helping to keep the younger ones organized. The babble of voices rose and fell, giving a cheerful aspect to the start of the day.

Severus glared at his Slytherins. They respectfully stopped their chatter.

The professors began to assemble their little groups.

Snape’s voice rose above the others. “First and second year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs to myself and Mr. Potter. Hop to it,” he said when no immediate action was forthcoming.

The six Slytherins awaited their Hufflepuff counterparts. Slowly, reluctantly, eight young Hufflepuffs joined Severus and Harry. Many looked askance at their feared potions teacher. Harry smiled warmly at them trying to offset Severus’ chill expression.

“There will be no wandering among this group. You will listen to instructions from either Mr. Potter or myself. You will not dilly-dally. If you get lost you’ll face detention with me,” Severus said.

//Oh, fine, Sev. That’s the way to set the holiday tone.//

//Alright Severus, you asked for it.// “Professor Snape is just worried about you,” doubtful looks assailed Harry from both the Slytherin and Hufflepuff contingents.

“No, seriously. Professor Snape was lost once when he was a first year, you know,” he said sagely.

Eyes went round even among the Slytherin students.

“Yes,” Harry continued, watching Severus’ outraged expression. “Headmaster Dumbledore even had to send out a search party to find him. He was in the Forbidden Forest gathering potion ingredients without permission. He had a whole month’s worth of detention for that.”

Harry smirked at his husband’s sharp expression. //Now, Sev. I had to offset your scrooge-like tone. Can I help it if you trusted me with tales about your own youthful indiscretions?//

Harry was glad to see the mood among the youngsters had lightened up considerably. Their perspective about their potions professor would never be the same.

Severus shook himself like a ruffled blackbird. “We are falling behind the others. Fall into line. Smallest first. Mr. Tory, go to the end,” Snape snarled as a sheepish Hufflepuff trotted to the end of the line.

Less than twenty minutes later they entered the village of Hogsmeade. The stores were decorated quietly and with less fanfare than usual. The Ministry of Magic had decided that magical energy would be better served going into the wards protecting the town rather than the glitz and glamour of maintaining Christmas decorations. The Mayor and the town council had agreed, so there was only muggle type decoration in evidence.

“Where would you like to go first?” Harry asked.

“HONEYDUKES!” came out in a loud chorus.

“Of course,” mumbled Snape.

Harry linked his mittened hand through Severus’. “Come along, it won’t be that bad. And if you’re really, really good, I might buy some of those special honey candies that melt at body temperature for later,” Harry whispered to his husband.

A small twitch at his husband’s mouth indicated he was fighting a smile.

With that, Harry dragged his husband off into the sweets shop behind the students.

****************************************************************

Four long hours later….

“Miss Devin, if you fall behind again I will personally hex you,” said a highly irritable Severus.

The young Slytherin dashed forward, her cheeks rosy with both the cold and embarrassment at being chastised by her head of house. Her parents had warned her Professor Snape was a hard but fair taskmaster. She didn’t want to have house points taken off but she was getting increasingly tired.

Harry noticed that many of the first years were starting to droop. //Severus sets quite a pace. Time for a little break.//

“Professor Snape,” Harry addressed his husband with a formal tone when speaking in front of students. “I think we have time for one more stop at the Three Broomsticks for a little Butterbeer, don’t you?”

Severus looked down his nose at Harry. “Mr. Potter, we have been at Honeydukes, Zonkos, Gladrags and the Post Office to owl off some last minute gifts. It is now beginning to get dark. Don’t you think we’ve all endured enough *fun* for one day?” he arched his eyebrow as he spoke.

“Just a few minutes for a little rest?” Harry said in a wheedling tone. “I’m sure the students will be able to better sustain the long journey back to Hogwarts once they’ve sat for a bit and had a little hot Butterbeer,” he appealed.

Harry stuck his lower lip out in a pout. Severus glanced around and noticed two dozen other little lips pouting at him. He started to grind his teeth together. The honey candy had better be worth this.

“Very well, a short stop at the Three Broomsticks,” he began only to be interrupted by a cheer from the children.

Severus puffed up about to take away some house points but Harry shook his head minutely at him. He looked into Harry’s eyes and nodded. No house points were to be lost today.

************************************************************************

A half hour later, the students with their reluctant Professor and Harry in tow tumbled out into the street. The children chattered happily until they saw a squad of Aurors marching down the road. Their appearance broke the fragile little bubble of happiness they had managed to create. Slowly, the first and second years fell into silence, some glancing fearfully at the gathering darkness around them.

Severus noticed the fearful looks and felt a twinge somewhere below his breastbone. //They’re babies, damn it. They shouldn’t have that look on their faces. Goddamn Voldemort.//

“Mr. Bevil, please line up correctly. Ms. Devin, that’s right, behind Ms. Egan. Are you ready, Mr. Potter?”

Harry looked over from where he was pulling mittens on some of the students. “Just a second, Professor.”

The Aurors marched by the little group, clinking and rattling as they went by. A collective shiver went through the youngsters.

“Remember all of you that the Aurors are here for our protection,” Harry said gently.

“Indeed,” Severus said gruffly. “Enough of this shilly-shallying, let us proceed back to Hogwarts,” and he moved forward.

The now dispirited group moved to follow.

Suddenly, a little voice piped up. “Look, Professor, look, Mr. Potter, look at the Forbidden Forest,” Lorraine Devins, the first year Slytherin, pointed towards the mysterious woods with a trembling finger.

Lights of every shape and color had broken out among the trees. They flowed and circled, dipped and twinkled. They were beautiful beyond words.

Students and townsfolk alike stopped in the streets to gape. Many ran into the stores to gather their friends and inform the shopkeepers. Wizards continued to flow out into the streets in waves. All eyes turned towards the Forest. Voices rose in a crescendo of wonder and questions.

Harry grasped Severus’ hand and said under his breath. “Sev, what is going on?”

“I don’t know,” came the reply.

The entirety of the Forbidden Forest had become one enormous celebration of light. People stood in the streets or sat upon the store’s stoops and murmured to one another about miracles.

The lights gave off a soft sound like tinkling bells. They soothed and regenerated world weary souls. People began to move towards the Forbidden Forest as closely as they dared to watch the phenomenon.

Harry looked down at the children in their care. There was a light of happiness there he had not seen in their eyes all semester. He felt himself blinking back moisture in his eyes.

“It’s so beautiful,” he said to his husband. “What could be causing it? Wizard magic could never touch the Forest,” he said in awe.

“Harry, this is something beyond Wizard’s magic, something older, something better. I think we’re seeing an example of ancient magic now,” Severus said slowly.

Severus turned and looked down at the entranced children under his care. He felt an momentary warmth of spirit fill him. They were his children after all. Every one who had come into his care over the years had been, in part, shaped by him into the adults they would become.

“Come children, we’ll walk slowly and carefully back to school,” he said. “I want you to see this and remember it. There are still far greater forces at work in the world than the Ministry or Lord Voldemort. There always have been, but sometimes it’s easy to forget that, especially in troubled times,” Severus said in a low, soothing tone.

Harry smiled at his husband and together they started to lead their little group back on to the main street, weaving their way through the crowd towards Hogwarts while continuing to watch the magical display in the woods. The minds and hearts of Harry, Severus and the children felt eased by the sign of a greater good that still existed in the world and always had.

End

KIRK/SPOCK

AUTHOR: Sara
TITLE: Snowman
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Kirk and Spock build a snowman. Silly, fluffy PWP.
DISCLAIMER: Kirk, Spock, the Enterprise, and the entire Star Trek Universe belong to Paramount/Viacom. I'm just taking them out for a little fun and will return them cleaned and dressed when I'm done. No profit is being made from this.
NOTE: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent
FEEDBACK ADDRESS: sara_merry99@yahoo.com, any and all feedback welcome.
PAIRING: Kirk/Spock
FANDOM: Star Trek: TOS
BETAS: My wonderful beta Singer took time out of her schedule on Thanksgiving day to take a look at this and make some suggestions. Thanks also to JM for her support.

SNOWMAN

"Jim, I will not 'play' in the snow with you. It is cold and, as you well know, Vulcans do not play," Spock said, standing just inside the doorway of the cabin they had rented for their shore leave. He was looking out onto what he saw as a desolation of snow and ice. Clearly Jim saw it differently; wearing a heavy coat and gloves, he was laughing happily while picking up handfuls of the snow, forming them into spheres and throwing them at nearby trees.

"Come on, Spock. We'll make a snowman," Jim said, starting to shape a large ball out of the snow.

Spock restrained a sigh and stepped out into the cold. "What is the purpose..."

Jim smiled and interrupted, "The purpose is fun, Spock, or enjoyment, if you prefer that word." He stood back looking at the giant ball of snow, evaluating it from several angles. "What do you think, does that look big enough?"

Spock raised an eyebrow, then gave up his objections. Through the years of their relationship as friends and, recently, as lovers, he learned that there was no resisting James Kirk when he was feeling playful. "I believe it is too small. With this as a base, the snowman can be stable up to at most .74 meters tall."

Spock pulled on his gloves and tightened the collar of his thermal coat. Bending over, he helped make the snowman. He formed the snowman's torso and searched for appropriate materials for the facial features. As they worked, he found the closeness and camaraderie quite pleasant. He would, however, have preferred a much warmer activity...

When the snowman was nearly done, Spock said, "Jim, it is cold. While you find arms for the snowman, I will tend to the fire in the cabin and make us some hot tea."

Jim yanked two small branches off a nearby tree and walked back to Spock, saying, "You go in and feed the fire. Start warming up. Don't make tea though. I'll bring you in some hot cocoa in a minute. It's the perfect thing when you're cold."

Spock nodded and retreated to the house. Adding logs to the fire, he kneeled before it holding his hands out to banish the chill. He simply couldn't understand Jim's predilection for physical contact with ice. Spock's hands were still cold, though no longer aching, when Jim sat down next to him with two steaming mugs.

Spock took one gratefully, cradling the mug in his hands to make the most of its heat, both inside his body and out. He sipped at the cocoa through its blanket of marshmallows. "I thank you. The cocoa is most pleasant." He felt the warmth seeping through him and began to relax.

After their cups were empty, Jim kicked his boots off then moved behind Spock and gently pulled so his lover was leaning against him. Jim wrapped his arms around Spock's waist and began kissing the Vulcan's long neck. Spock murmured with appreciation, shifting his head so as to provide better access.

Punctuating each sentence with a lick or nibble to Spock's neck, Jim whispered, "The best part of playing in the snow is warming up afterwards. Come, let me warm you up, lover."

Exploring Spock's ear with his tongue, Kirk slid his hands up under the thick black sweater the Vulcan was wearing. Spock tensed, afraid that Jim's hands would be cold on his warm abdomen, but they weren't. Jim's touch brought an electric heat to his body, tingling over his skin. As Jim stroked his chest and stomach, moving upwards to find and tease a nipple, Spock felt the electricity gathering in his groin. He stretched back, making more of himself available for Jim to touch.

One of Jim's hands continued to tug at a nipple, sharp pinches on the edge of pain interspersed with more gentle caresses. The other one slid down, very slowly, touching just the tops of the hairs on his stomach, leaving a tingling trail where the skin felt alive and the nerve endings were sensitized. Spock moaned. The sensation was exquisite, almost too delicate, but it was lighting his nerves on fire.

Jim slid his hand under the waistband of Spock pants and briefs eliciting another moan when the fingers curled around the hot, hard cock trapped inside. Spock tilted his hips so that Jim could have better access to his cock and rolled his head back on Jim's shoulder. Jim took the opportunity to take the tip of Spock's ear into his mouth and nibble just on the tip. The triple stimulation was amazing and Spock just lay there and accepted the pleasure he was being given, thrusting slightly into Kirk's hand and panting.

Gathering his wits and his will to move, Spock reached down and opened his pants, sliding them as far down as he could reach, wanting more of Jim's fiery touch. Jim chuckled and whispered in his ear, "Feeling warmer already, huh?"

With that, Kirk moved. Spock sighed when the warm hands were taken from under his clothing and the comforting support behind his back disappeared. "Here, Spock, let me." Kirk removed Spock's boots and then his pants and briefs. Spock pulled Kirk's sweater off and threw it aside and then removed his own. Jim knelt between Spock's legs, stroking first gently then firmly the hairs on the long, lean legs. The gathering heat spread over Spock's body, causing his cock to jump.

Spock reached toward Kirk, pulling him close for a kiss. As their tongues twined, exploring each other's mouths, Spock lay back pulling Jim with him so that their bare chests were pressed hard together. He sighed with pleasure at the feel of the firm muscles under satiny bare skin and caressed Jim's back, sliding his hands down toward the tightly muscled buttocks.

Instead of warm skin though, Spock's hands found cold fabric. Using his wiry strength, Spock flipped them over, so that Jim was lying on his back on the blanket as Spock kissed his way down Kirk's neck and along his collarbone. Spock's mouth busily explored the contours of Kirk's neck and shoulders with lips and teeth and tongue as his hands opened Jim's pants and found the velvet hardness within. Jim groaned slightly, arching his back and throwing his head back, exposing more tendons for Spock's mouth to taste.

Instead, Spock backed away and stripped off the human's pants and briefs in a single movement. He bit sharply at the point of Jim's hip, taking the sting away with a softer stroke of his tongue, then took Jim's rosy cock into his mouth. Jim moaned and allowed a few seconds of this, but then he rolled them over again.

"I'm warming you up, remember," Kirk said. He then kissed Spock firmly and ran a fingernail lightly between the two ridges on Spock's jade cock. Spock groaned into the kiss at the fire of the touch and bucked into Kirk's hand, trying to get more contact.

Spock couldn't summon thought or words, just sensations. He felt his nerve endings sizzling and his skin tingled. Kirk stroked his cock firmly, spreading the natural lubricants there over the entire length. Spock began to thrust into the firm touch, wanting to feel more. Kirk took his hand away and Spock whimpered slightly at the lost contact, and then moaned when he saw that Kirk was spreading the gathered lubricant onto his own cock.

Spock spread his legs wide, allowing Jim to reach his tender opening. The sight of Jim's strong hand on his own cock made Spock hunger for the feel of that cock inside him. Spock groaned as Kirk's hand stroked over the sensitive ring of muscles, touching off answering sparks in nerve endings all over his body. Kirk kept one hand on Spock's cock, stroking the shaft firmly and occasionally ghosting touches over the tender head and between the ridges, keeping Spock achingly hard. The other hand busily prepared him, stretching and softening the hard muscle of his anus first with one finger then with two and three.

When he felt the head of Jim's strong cock pressing into his passage, Spock cried out with the burning pain and pleasure of the feeling. He fought to keep his muscles relaxed as Jim pressed slowly inside with a series of small thrusts. The pain passed quickly, leaving only the beautiful feeling of fullness and deep pleasure. Spock nodded. At that signal, Jim began to thrust more deeply; each thrust hit a sensitive place inside Spock sending warm ecstasy shooting like sparks throughout his body. Spock moved, meeting each thrust, driving Jim into him harder and deeper. Each thrust drove the air out of his body in short, sharp breaths.

Jim reached between their bodies to take Spock's cock in his hand again, stroking it in time with his thrusts. Spock moaned and panted at the combined pleasure and looked at Jim through hooded eyes. Spock could see Jim fighting off his own climax, holding back so that Spock's pleasure could continue as long as possible. Jim was biting his lip, his face twisted in a mixture of pleasure and concentration. Spock squeezed with the muscles inside him and, grabbed Jim's ass with both hands, pulling him in hard and deep. Jim's control shattered as he cried out "Spock!!" and, with savage, deep thrusts, exploded inside Spock. Spock rocketed over the edge himself and shot his own hot cum over their stomachs.

Some time later, after Jim gently cleaned them up with a warm, damp towel, they lay naked in front of the fire, Jim's head resting on Spock's chest. Spock, comfortably warm, inside and out, purred and said, "I believe I now see the attraction of snow, Jim."

Jim chuckled and snuggled closer, pulling a blanket over the two of them. "Maybe we can build a friend for our snowman tomorrow."

"Only if we get warm in the same manner afterwards," Spock said, pulling his human tight against his body and falling asleep.
 

JIM/BLAIR (Mulder/Krycek)

Title: Home For The Holidays
Author: MadByrd
Category: Holiday ficlet. A crossover with the X-Files.
Fandom: The Sentinel , X-files
Pairings: Jim/Blair, Mulder/Krycek
Feedback: Better than chestnuts roasting on an open fire. So send some this way: mreddy@nf.sympatico.ca
Rating: NC-17 (someday I'll write something cleaner ::smirk:: Just not *this*day ;-)
Summary: Wouldn't wanna spoil it. But...ye gods! I finally have an angst bunny.
They're *so* hard to hang onto, at least for me anyway.
Spoilers, Warnings, Other Stuff You Might Wanna Know: No major spoilers, probably no minor ones, either. <g> Takes place in an alternate universe where:
(1) everybody knows that aliens and Sentinels exist, and (2) nobody gives a hang about the gender or number of spouses one has, provided that all parties are legal and willing.
Note: Written for the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent 
Disclaimers: No, they're not mine. They just moved in here when TPTB kicked 'em out on the street. So it ain't Pet Fly or Universal Studios? So I'm broke most of the time? Big deal, at least I know how to keep 'em happy. And that's what really counts.

HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS

CASCADE, WASHINGTON

*"Tis the season to be jolly, fa-la-la-la-lah--"*

Whack! A long black tail lashed out, knocking the radio onto the floor, where it died in about a dozen pieces and a most undignified manner. "Fa-la-la my furry ass!" Jim Ellison snarled. Needless to say, he was not in a holiday mood, despite all the bright lights and decorations. And there were a *lot* of decorations. Fox had gone all out, what with this being their first holiday season together. Hanukkah, Yule and two Christmases -- Western and Russian Orthodox -- made for a very festive household. Too bad half his family was on the other side of the continent and wouldn't be back until the scum they were hunting was either dead or behind bars. Jim knew which he preferred and he was quite certain Alex agreed. Unfortunately, the Bureau wouldn't see it that way. Idiots! He growled an extremely rude Chopek insult that often led to mortal combat and curled up on the sofa to start grooming himself. Not that he needed to, he was just...

"Restless again, love?" Blair ignored the wreckage, ignored his rumbling stomach, which was insisting on more solid nourishment than an algae shake, and put his arms around his cranky, catty Sentinel. Jim snuffled. "I know, I miss them too.
Damn it, this is *so* not fair." It had been a very stressful month, what with school
and the wedding, moving into a new home -- the loft was way too small for four adult males, two of whom tended to spend alot of their time as huge felines, a panther and a snow leopard -- and now this case. Throw the Silly Season into the mix and well... you get the picture. The one bright spot in it all was that at least Blair's classes were over until January, so that while his mate would be prowling the streets again, he wouldn't be doing it without his Guide. Or on all fours, which was easier on Jim's heightened senses but played havoc with the nerves of Cascade's good citizens (most notably the Mayor and half his aldermen) who still weren't quite used to having a full Sentinel in their midst. Aliens they'd been dealing with, ever since the Rebel Alliance had established an embassy after the fall of the Consortium -- thanks in no small part to Mulder & Krycek -- but a cop who was a walking crime lab and could be human or not as he chose? That was an entirely different matter. That made people very jumpy, especially the ones with something to hide.

"Fair or not, that's the way it is," Jim sighed into the soft tangle of curls, thankful that their link permitted him to be understood -- but *only* by Blair, Fox or Alex -- as easily as if he were speaking English. "I guess I'll have to get used to it, after all it comes with the territory." He added rather wistfully, "It's just ... I really wanted the holidays to be," he was going to say happier but changed his mind, "extra special this year."

"And they will be." Suddenly Blair was absolutely certain of the fact. "Come on, I'll
fix us lunch."

Ellison snorted. Yawned a big yawn, the only purpose to display a very impressive set of canines. "Okay. But feed me sprouts again and you'll *be* lunch, Darwin."

Blair grinned, got up and walked over to the refrigerator. Halfway there, he stuck out his tongue at the pussy cat and wiggled a sassy backside. "Promises, promises."

The panther pounced.

Twenty minutes later, Blair was the one purring and licking up the cream.

*************

SOMEWHERE IN WASHINGTON, DC

Alex woke up cold and alone. The Beloved, the Guide, was gone. For the third night in a row. He wished he'd never agreed to this, but the separation was as necessary
as it was painful. Of all the agents in the whole damn F.B.I. -- or so it seemed to him anyway -- only Mulder and Krycek had the right qualifications for the job. So they'd taken the earliest flight out of Cascade, only to be told on arrival that Fox would
be going it alone on the undercover assignment. Alex, to say the least, had not been pleased. He'd actually growled at A.D. Simmons and was sorely tempted to shift forms and express his disapproval the old fashioned way, with fang and claw, until Mulder had taken him aside and explained that there was every chance the suspect would recognize his partner, thus blowing the entire operation. And they could not afford to let another terrorist slip away. So he'd given in, although it went against every instinct to be parted even temporarily from his Guide and primary husband. Now here he was, wide awake at four in the morning -- two days before Christmas, could the Fates be more cruel? -- feeling absolutely miserable. He'd been in the spirit world again with his Fox. Loving his Fox. Being loved in turn by the Panther and Wolf, Sentinel and Guide of the Great City. Screaming in ecstasy as his mates brought him to a long, soul-shattering climax.

Finding -- gods, not again! -- his thighs and belly covered in half-dried come and his prick still maddeningly hard. No use to touch it; he'd tried that before and knew all too well he wouldn't be able to obtain relief on his own. No use his changing shapes to try and get rid of the problem either; that only seemed to exacerbate his condition. Which left him with two equally unpleasant options: ignore it and try to get some sleep -- hopeless! -- or drag himself into the bathroom and stand under an icy shower till his goose bumps got goose bumps and started bitching at him about the cold.

Never one to take the easy way out, Alex Krycek, former Rat Boy, now Sentinel of Earth, rolled carefully onto his side and pulled the blankets up around him, seeking warmth. His groin throbbed and his eyes watered. Tears streaked his face and he carelessly let them fall.

Because the ache in his balls was nothing -- no, *less* than nothing -- compared to the unremitting agony in his heart.

#

The Lavender Parakeet was a low-class dive on the seamy side of town. A hazy,
smoke filled throwback to the 1930's ... in the worst possible way. Hardcases and wanna-bes of every description might kick up their heels at other clubs along the Strip; those who hung out here were the real deal. Genuine Grade A scum, the absolute bottom of the barrel.

The joint did serve a mean gin-and-tonic, though. And the band played music you could actually dance to. Assuming you'd come here to dance. Most people came here to deal; be it sex or drugs, guns or information, there was always a ready market.

Fox Mulder leaned over the table and whispered something in his companion's ear.
The redhead with the Mr. Universe physique blushed and grinned. He let his eyes roam heatedly over the other's trim, leather-clad body, licked his lips in a very provocative fashion, then reached out and squeezed his "date's" hand. Message received and understood.

This was it. The informant had finally stopped jerking them around and given them the straight goods. Their suspect had just walked in, flanked by an army of muscle. She was a brunette now -- big improvement on the bleach bottle blonde look -- but pure piranha through and through, according to her rap sheet and Alex, who'd worked with her a couple of times while playing at being a Consortium thug named Arntzen. Now that Spender was gone, she'd found herself another sponser, one with ties to some really heavy hitters in Afghanistan and the Middle East.

The same filth responsible for the slaughter of innocents on 9-11. Mulder swallowed hard. Clenched his fists. Ellison and Krycek were right; some bastards, their crimes too great for mercy, did not deserve to live. For the good of the tribe -- Humanity -- they had to be put down. One did not, could not, permit a rabid hyena to run loose and infect the whole jungle. And it was sheer insanity to think one could be cured. The best thing, the only thing to do, was to put a bullet through its diseased brain and end the misery. Unfortunately, they needed Marita alive. Not necessarily healthy, but alive. The Agents moved in.

All hell broke loose.

#

DULLES AIRPORT, CHRISTMAS EVE

The place was a bloody madhouse and he wanted nothing more than to be out of
it. On the next jet and gone, back to good old Cascade with its never-ending rain. Where there was nothing to worry about but everyday crooks and the odd homicidal maniac and visits from his annoying in-laws. Days and nights of sheer bliss wrapped up in Jim's sweet loving and Blair's warm cuddles -- in bed or out, Sandburg just loved to snuggle. He wouldn't even mind it if the little scamp sat on him again and tickled him totally breathless as "punishment" for all his wisecracks about tongue
or worse, tofu burgers. Oh, how he longed to spend Christmas at home.

So, apparently, did the rest of the country. And they had all congregated right here. In this terminal, in this lineup, waiting for luggage inspections -- he only had one
bag, a carry-on, he always travelled light -- then tickets and boarding passes -- cripes, were they *all* on the same flight? He hoped not. Anyway, it was enough to get on an ordinary person's last nerve, let alone a Sentinel's. At least he could turn his dials down and tune the racket out. His mate didn't have that option.

He did have one hell of a shiner, though. Alex gave a soft growl of sheer annoyance and frustration. *Nobody* touched the Guide with impunity. Lucky for her the bitch was cooling her heels in a maximum security cell. Otherwise, he'd have simply ripped her throat out. He still would, if that Intelligence guy was stupid enough to let her go in exchange for turning on her bosses, like she had on the Cancerman.

Eventually their flight number was called and they boarded the airliner. The petite stewardess was scared half out of her wits by the sight of him. Krycek was in his transitory form: a seven-foot tall humanoid male with big jade eyes, thick, white
fur with black swirls and plotches, a feline face and a bushy tail almost as long as
she was tall. Poor thing had obviously never seen a Sentinel, except maybe on TV. But she got over it when Mulder flashed his badge -- Alex refused point blank to wear a collar, claiming that it was undignified. If the fools couldn't recognize his bonding bracelets, too bad about 'em. Soon they were ready for takeoff. No sooner was the "please unfasten your seatbelts" announcement made than he put his tail to good use by snagging Fox right into his lap with it. As usual, the Beloved protested; however Alex's nose told him that he didn't really mean it. He closed his eyes and settled in for the long ride home.

***************

CASCADE, LATE AFTERNOON ON CHRISTMAS DAY

The sticky, sweaty, sated jumble of flesh and fur on the living room floor -- there was a perfectly good custom-made bed upstairs but as usual they hadn't made it that far -- possessed but a single common thought: thank God the neighbours weren't home.

Then again, they probably *had* been heard all the way to Kansas.

*****************

CPD, THE CAPTAIN'S OFFICE, DECEMBER 28th

Simon Banks nearly swallowed his cigar. Again. His best detective had come back
to work looking more relaxed than he'd seen him in weeks, hell, months. Long before the whole Naomi catastrophe, at any rate. Ellison also looked as though he'd recently been thoroughly, passionately and quite expertly mauled.

"Whoa! What pack of wild animals did *you*run into lately?" Jim smirked. "Just the usual menagerie. Besides, you're a fine one to talk." He indicated the fresh bite marks on Simon's neck -- no doubt the Captain had been hoping his buttoned up collar would hide them. Almost, but not quite. "Looks like Rafe and Brown worked you over real good." Simon flushed. Did everybody know? Was he wearing this big neon sign that said "Just Got Laid"? Then again, to a Sentinel, he probably was. "Oh, by the way, congratulations. When's the ceremony? You know we'll all be there with bells on."

"Huh?" Oh, *that* was dignified.

"The wedding." Simon blinked. "You *do* plan to marry them soon, I hope.
After all, it's been scientifically proven that children do best when their parents
stay together." He goggled. Children? Parents? What the fuck was Ellison babbling about? Was there Golden in the fruitcake or something?

"You mean you didn't know? Rafe's a hybrid, like Blair and Alex." No, he hadn't known. Odds were that Rafe didn't either. They had no secrets from each other, at least not serious ones. "Judging from his scent -- and a few other things -- I'd say he's in heat."

"In...heat?" There, that wasn't too bad. At least it hadn't come out a girly little squeal.

Jim nodded. He was really enjoying this. Payback for all the times his boss had
made him squirm. "So's Alex. Don't look at me like that, it's perfectly normal."
The smirk was now an outrageous ear-to-ear grin. "And unless I miss my guess, we've got another..." He made quite a production out of counting on his fingers. "Eight-and-a-half months before the stork gets here."

This time Simon Banks *did* swallow the damn cigar.

***************

THE END. HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

MISCELLANEOUS (CLARK/LEX and SPIKE/XANDER)

Title: Two streams met
Author: philtre
Disclaimer: You can sue me for the half a bottle of vodka I have here, but I don't guarantee that it'll still be here by the time you get 'round to it. (I don't own anything)
Category: PWP
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Spoilers: No.
Pairing: Spike/Xander, Clark/Lex
Fandom: Smallville/Buffy
Summary: In an anonymous town, two anonymous ppl meet...
Author's note: *fingers crossed* First fanfic out of the SV realm (well, one foot's out *wink*). This fic is part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent
Feedback: Hotter than the thought of MR and JM in the same room. Direct heat to twopphiltre@yahoo.ca
Thank you: Kel (not that one, the other one) for trying to make sure that I didn't look like a complete idiot (well, we can try); and Nika for having read my very cringe-worthy first draft. Smooches to both of ya!

TWO STREAMS MET

Lex stared morosely into his drink. He did not want to be in some godforsaken small town in the middle of California. Knew he should have taken the helicopter. At the time, the three hour drive out to the Trexia Labs had seemed like a good idea, a way to take his mind of things. People. Some people. One person. He silently cursed his car for breaking down. Couldn't buy competence anymore.

He barely turned as someone sat down next to him. Lex could hear the low rumble as the stranger asked for a drink. The man had a distinctively British accent that Lex could discern a mile away.

"Could you pass the nuts, mate?"

Lex didn't pull his gaze away from his drink, silently sliding the bowl over. Was the stranger smirking at him? He turned to meet garish blond hair and shockingly blue eyes. Staring right back at him. Lex refused to look away. Who the hell did the guy think he was?

Finally, the man looked away, tossing back a shot before motioning for the bartender to keep them coming. Lex glanced over quickly. Tequila. Obviously, his neighbor wanted to get drunk -- fast. Lex didn't subscribe to that school of thought. Well, not anymore. These days, he preferred to savor his drinks. Wanted to take his time to feel like shit. He had to because otherwise, he might accidentally believe that he was worthy of Clark, which he sure as hell wasn't. Best to drink enough just to be numb, but not enough to do something he'd regret.

"You're in a crappy mood, aren't you?"

Lex didn't particularly feel for conversation, so he continued to stare intently at his drink. The other man studied him for several moments before gesturing to the bartender for another drink. In the corner of his eye, he could see his neighbor down three more shots of tequila before wiping his lips with the back of his hand. Lex could feel those eyes on him again.

"And I thought I was a sullen bastard."

He was unrelenting, wasn't he? Fine. "Why are you at a bar tossing drinks like your life depended on it?"

"Ah. The boy does speak."

"I'm not a boy."

"Yes. You are." The stranger laughed. Quelling his laughter by clearing his throat, the man tossed back another drink. "As it happens, I'm trying to drown my sorrows."

Lex chuckled. "You sound like a trashy romance novel."

"You look like a trashy romance novel."

Lex could resist another quick chuckle. "What's what your excuse?"

"The usual. Dwelling on a certain boy. And you?"

Lex whipped his head to look at the other man. "Much the same."

Another dry laugh. "Is he at least pretty?"

Lex stared into the distance. "You don't know the half of it."

"Describe him."

He paused. "Black hair, green eyes, six feet four, muscular."

He could just see it in his mind. Clark on his elbows, lying in his hammock, smiling up infectiously at Lex. A book in his hand, slightly long locks that he had let grow during the summer. 'Come on, Lex. Sit down. Relax.' Relax? Didn't Clark realize that 'relaxing' was the last thing Lex could do around him? He wanted to sink his fingers into that hair, drape himself over Clark's long, sculpted body, drown in those viscous green eyes, bite Clark's full bottom lip--

"Doesn't sound too addictive."

The man had obviously never met Clark Kent. "Irresistible naïvete, unwavering loyalty, savior complex."

The other man tilted his head. "Ah, yes. I know that last one well."

"He's going to be the death of me."

His neighbor tossed another drink back. "At least he doesn't want to bloody kill you."

"Describe yours."

He shrugged. "Brown hair, hazel eyes, 'bout my height." Turned to look at Lex. "Works in construction."

Lex nodded. "Sounds heavenly."

"Yeah. Fucking fabulous. Now if he just didn't hate me."

He raised an eyebrow, not bothering to look at the stranger. "At least he doesn't trust you implicitly and comes to you for advice on how to woo the town's fairy princess."

"I'm guessing that's 'fairy princess' in the traditional sense."

"Oh, very much so." Lex took a much needed sip of his drink.

They sat in silence - Lex sipping his drink, his neighbor downing them as fast he could. He silently wondered how the man seemed completely unaffected by the alcohol. Kept silent because it was really none of his business anyway.

Finally, the stranger tossed a wad of bills on the bar, giving the bartender a familiar jerk of his head. "Much as I'd love to sit here and lament our utter hopelessness, the night awaits me."

Lex merely stared at his drink, as the stranger stood up. "Good luck with the construction boy."

"Luck has nothing to do with it." And the man was gone.

Lex studied the wood grain of the bar through the amber liquid in his glass.

"No, it doesn't."

He tossed back the last of his drink, left the bartender an outrageously large tip, and left too.

END

SPIKE/XANDER

Author: kira-nerys ( FB: kardasi@kardasi.com )
Title: Only Lust
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Minor for season 7 episode "Beneath You"
Summary: Spike catches Xander looking.
Disclaimer. Belongs to Joss, and not me – unfortunately.
Note: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar. http://www.kardasi.com/Advent  

END