ADVENT STORIES FOR
DECEMBER 17

CLARK/LEX

Title: Snow
Author: Mary Willing Prey
RATING: PG
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Fandom: Smallville
Disclaimer: 1) I am not making any money. 2) I do not own the characters. 3) No copyright infringement of any kind is intended. 4) This story is for entertainment purposes only. It's parody people. I claim it under fair use.
Summery: Lex helps Clark through a trying time.
Notes: I am doing a lot of foot kissing to my betas at Preyland. They take my stuff and turn it into something wonderful.
Note: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent 
Feedback Email address: Mary Willing Prey

SNOW

Lex took another long draw from the cigarette between his fingers; the other hand petted the dark hair on the head that was resting on his belly. Clark was finally asleep. Lex wished it was because he had fucked Clark into exhaustion, but knew likely it was not. Clark was sleeping because of grief. He was sleeping between Lex's spread legs, head resting on Lex's belly. Lex had put an extra pillow behind his head so he was propped up slightly and could see the nebulous shape of Clark stretched out before him.

Lex wasn't good with grief. He knew he wasn't. He was trying to help Clark as much as he could. Unfortunately that meant he could only offer physical comfort. He didn’t know how to help bolster Clark emotionally.

It was a cruddy way to celebrate Christmas, especially for a person who associated Christmas with family. Lex was torn between being happy to have Clark with him and unhappy that life had once again kicked Clark in the gut. Lex was used to being kicked. Clark wasn't.

Lex continued smoking, knowing that likely Clark wouldn't sleep long. He hadn't slept very long at one time for weeks. At least since it had happened. Lex hoped he could coax Clark back to sleeping while his parents were gone. Sex seemed to help, as well as the closeness afterwards.

Right now Lex couldn't sleep, even though he knew he should. This past week had been hard on all of them. Jonathan had been taking care of Martha in her grief. Lex took care of Clark and he wondered if Jonathan Kent had even noticed how Lex had been at Clark's side through it all.

He heard Clark snuffle on his belly and he resumed stroking Clark's hair. "Go back to sleep, Clark." Lex whispered in the darkness. The soft glow from his cigarette and the coals in the fireplace were the only lights in the room.

"Why Lex? Why did he have to die?" Clark asked him softly.

"It was his time." Lex said, not having anything else to say. It was a conversation they had had before. Lex hoped if he said it often enough, Clark would believe it. "You couldn't have done anything. He was dead before he hit the floor." At least there were no more tears. Right after it happened and at the funeral, there had been tears that Clark didn't want anyone to see, not even Lex.

"I suppose…" Clark wiggled silently against Lex. Lex crooked his foot over Clark's thigh and stroked, calming him. "I wish I'd known him longer."

"You learned a lot about him in the couple of years you knew him." Lex said as he took another draw. "At least you met your grandfather."

"And you haven't?" Clark asked.

Lex shook his head. He didn't know if Clark could see him or not but the motion was automatic. "For all that Lionel talks of family, he doesn't mean it. I've never met any of my extended family. I don't even know if I have any."

"You never tried to find out?" Clark had never asked about Lex's family, not really wanting to know more about Lionel.

"No." Lex scratched his throat with his thumb. "My mothers family may still be somewhere in Scotland. I didn't even try when I was schooling in England." A flick of ash off the end of the cigarette, a shake of his head. "I was a self-centered child."

"Or one that still missed his mother." Clark clasped his ribs gently. "You're a self-centered adult. It's part of who you are."

"Does it show so easily?" Lex asked, wondering if he showed so much to the world.

"Only to me." Clark told him. "We still have to tell them."

Thanksgiving at the Kents this year had been planned to be rather momentous. Clark's grandfather had agreed to come and Jonathan had agreed to have Lex in attendance. Lex and Clark had made the decision to tell Clark's parents about their relationship, hoping that at a family celebration they could keep the ill will to a minimum.

"I know. We will--later." They lapsed into silence again and Lex hoped Clark would sleep.

"How long will they be gone?" Clark asked. The funeral had been more than a week ago and now the Kents were wrestling with the estate.

"At least a couple of more weeks." Lex had called in his lawyers when he realized that the estate was going to be complicated. "They may be back by Christmas." Even if the estate wasn’t settled, they might come back. The will was outdated and Mr. Clark had holdings that were extensive. Lex didn't understand. He had had a will since he turned eighteen, and updated it yearly. He wondered if Lionel would be shocked to learn that he had left almost everything to Clark.

"I hope--I want to spend Christmas with you."

That told Lex a great deal about Clark and how Clark felt about him. If Thanksgiving was a family celebration in Clark's family, Christmas was even more so. Even so, every Christmas day since they had met Clark had come to visit Lex.

"I'd like that." Lex was a little surprised to discover that it was true. "I'll even celebrate this year."

"Am I too young for you?" Clark asked softly.

Lex grabbed a handful of Clark's hair and pulled his head up to see his face. "Where the hell did you get that idea?"

Clark shrugged a little. "I don't know." Clark's fingers curled on Lex's chest. "You have an old soul, maybe thousands of years old. I can feel it." Clark spread his fingers over Lex's belly reaching up to caress his chest. "You have marks and stripes and scars no one can see." Clark's fingers stroked as if to touch scars only he could see on Lex.

"An old soul?" Lex asked. "Are you saying I really am Alexander the Great?"

"I dunno. Maybe." Clark replied.

"And would this make you Hephaestion?" Lex asked.

Clark's forehead crinkled. "Who's Hephaestion?" He asked, stumbling a little on the word.

"Alexander's childhood friend and one great love." Lex leaned his head back as he thought. "He supposedly said to the Queen of Persia, 'This man, too, is Alexander'." His hand reached over to the side table to stub out the cigarette.

"He was gay?" Clark asked, now intrigued.

Lex shook his head. "No. At the time it was not unusual to have lovers of both sexes. It was expected. They didn't divide the world between gay and straight."

"Maybe." Clark said thoughtfully.

"The stories of Alexander are historical mixed with myth. There is a tale that Alexander and Hephaestion laid flowers on the graves of Achilles and Patroclus. Some said that Alexander was Achilles walking the earth again, reunited with Patroclus."

There was something in Lex's tone that made Clark ask. "What happened between Achilles and Patroclus?"

"Achilles and Agamemnon were arguing, over a woman, I might add, and Achilles refused to take the field of battle. A seer had prophesized that Troy could not be taken without Achilles. Achilles finally relented, in part, and allowed Patroclus to fight wearing Achilles' armor. Patroclus was killed by Hector." Lex shook his head. "This is all in the Iliad. Don't you study ancient history or classical literature?"

"Yeah, but not in the depth that you do." Clark concentrated on Lex's chest for a while, the silence between them warm and comfortable.

"Lex," Clark said softly, putting his head back down on Lex's belly. "I hope this time we get it right."

"I do too, Clark. I do too." Lex went back to stroking Clark's hair in the darkness, not knowing what the future would dish out to them.

Soon Clark was sleeping and Lex could feel himself drifting off as well. He dropped a kiss on the top of Clark's head. Two years and more they had been lovers, and he loved Clark as much as a Luthor could love anyone. It was time, past time, to tell him. Lex drifted off to sleep, with that promise to himself.

And outside the windows the snow silently drifted down.

End

HARRY/SNAPE

Title: O Christmas Tree
Author: RavenclawGrrl
RATING: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Snape
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer. I do not own these characters, JK Rowling does.
Note: Written for the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent 
Thanks to jl_foxy for beta-ing this for me.
Feedback Email address: padme_patil@yahoo.com  (Please, please, please let me know what you think.)

O Christmas Tree

Harry stood in the doorway to the living room, looking at the Christmas tree with all its twinkling lights. His body was rigid and he was unconsciously flexing the fingers on his left hand and then clenching them into a fist over and over again.

“Harry?” Severus asked in a quiet, puzzled voice from across the room. “Harry, are you coming back to bed?”

“They’re beautiful, you know,” Harry answered, unable to take his eyes off the tree and the hundreds of tiny lights flickering merrily on the branches. “The ornaments, that is. The ornaments on Hermione’s tree are beautiful.”

The war had taken a terrible toll over the last year, including Hermione’s parents and her husband Ron, as well as his elder brothers Charlie and Bill. Despite her grief, Hermione was adamant about maintaining her own home, the one she and Ron had begun. She was resisting pressure from Molly and Arthur that she move in with them. Hermione planned on having Christmas at her own house with her two-year old son. She had invited, no, insisted, that Harry stay as well. Harry knew his friend well enough to know that she needed his support there in order to help her resist the Weasley’s offer.

He could still remember her pleading invitation. “I have enough grief of my own,” she had told him in confidence. “Molly and I will drown in each other’s despair if I move in there, Harry. You’ve got to come and stay. You’ve got to help me get through the holidays this year. And of course I want Severus to stay, too.” Harry had smiled at that. He remembered the looks on Hermione’s and Ron’s faces when he and Severus had announced their relationship to the two of them. That had been shortly before the ambush that had claimed Ron’s life.

And now, here they were together, the four of them, Harry, Severus, Hermione and her son Charles, sharing Christmas together.
***
There was an odd inflection to Harry’s voice as he continued; it was tense, strained. Whatever he was saying, it was costing him a lot to find the words he wanted. Severus detected it and padded softly in his bare feet across the floor to stand directly behind his lover. “Harry, are you all right?”

“I never realized it before, but I never liked the lights. I never liked the lights on Christmas trees. It just occurred to me this evening.”

“What occurred to you?” Severus asked, somehow dreading the answer.

“Occurred isn’t the right word,” Harry went on, still mesmerized by the lights, still flexing his left hand. “I just this evening remembered why I don’t like the lights – why I hate the Christmas lights.”

“Why?” Severus whispered gently.

“I can’t remember Christmas with my parents, you know.” Harry stood still as a statue, his only motion the ceaseless opening and closing of his left hand. “I would have only had one Christmas with them, when I was just a baby. The others would have been…with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon.”

Severus glanced down. Harry had stopped opening and closing his hand. He was now gingerly tracing his left palm with the fingers of his right hand, tracing the outlines of a shiny scar from long ago.

“I didn’t remember it before now. Not until I saw Charles playing around the tree when Hermione Spelled the lights on. I would have been about as old as he is now…” Harry’s voice trailed off.

“What happened then?” Severus gently prodded.

“We, Aunt Petunia, that is, had the old fashioned lights. Not the little small ones like Muggles use today, and not like wizard fairy-lights. No, she had the big, old fashioned kind of Christmas lights. The ones that get really hot, you know?”

“Go on,” Severus steeled himself, knowing that something from deep in Harry’s past was making itself known tonight.

“Dudley and I, we would have been about two. About the same age as Charles is now, you know? And we were playing around the Christmas tree and one of the ornaments got broken and…”

“Yes?”

“I probably did it. It might have been me. It probably was me. But it might have been Dudley, mightn’t it?” Harry never moved, never blinked, never took his eyes of the glittering lights of the tree.

“It might.” Severus hesitated himself. “Go on, Harry.”

‘Aunt Petunia came in. She saw the broken ornament. She…she…she told me that I was bad, that I had done it and that I was very bad. She said I had to be punished for being very bad. She…she…she wrapped my hand around one of the bulbs…and it was hot, you know? It was very hot. It was burning hot and she wrapped her hand around mine and held it there and told me over and over that I was bad. And it burned my hand. And… and I tried to get away and I couldn’t and she just held me there and held my hand, held it wrapped around that bulb and… and I couldn’t get away and it burned. It burned so much.”

Harry stopped and turned to look at Severus, bewilderment on his face. “I reckon that’s why I never much liked the Christmas lights.”

Severus searched Harry’s face, trying to think of something to say. Then he stepped behind him and rested his hands gently on Harry’s shoulders. He kissed the nape of his neck and quietly whispered “Nox.”

KIRK/SPOCK

Title: Festival of Light
Author: Lyrastar
Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The story of how the defiled temple was reclaimed, and the flame continued to burn. And then there was great rejoicing.
Disclaimer: The characters and all things Trek are the property of Paramount/Viacom.
Notes: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar at http://www.kardasi.com/Advent , which does not discriminate on the basis of age, race or preference in winter celebration.
Feedback: < lyrastarwatcher@yahoo.com >

FESTIVAL OF LIGHT

"Spock!" Jim called out, as he jogged up the clay dune. "I think we've found the entrance!" There was no question. Secreted in between two dunes, an enormous carved idol guarded a fissure just wide enough for a man's body to pass through. Here on Sihon, an independent world on the edge of Klingon space, they had been tracking low grade Yrassian radiation over many kilometers of baked clay desert. From the shuttlecraft they had easily pinpointed the underground source, but discovering an access to the subterranean hold had taken hours. Hours that they could ill afford.

Spock fell in by his shoulder and regarded the imposing stone god. "Fascinating. From the historical descriptions, I would conclude that this is a representation of Mycabi, a major figure in ancient Sihonian religion." He added, "Mycabi is still revered by a significant minority of the Sihonian populace as the god of deliverance."

He unslung his tricorder and scanned the fissure. "This tunnel leads to a vast chamber, which would be entirely consistent with the descriptions of the lost temple of Mycabi. The arsenal is within it, 189.61 meters under the surface and 1429.26 meters absolute distance from this point. I am reading type A Yrassian radiation in massive quantities. According to my computations, this cache accounts for the entire supply of warheads that we know to be planetside. It is apparently their one and only stock pile." He reset the tricorder. "At the moment," he said, "only two sentries are within. Apparently the Klingons do not anticipate traffic this far into the desert." He reholstered the tricorder to await further direction from his captain.

Yrassian radiation was a contentious topic within the Federation. As much potential as it bore as a terraforming tool, the terrible ingenuity of it gave it unthinkable potential as a weapon of conquest. The blast itself was not particularly destructive. It generated a force equivalent to perhaps one-sixtieth as much TNT. The real power was in the type C radiation generated by the fission reaction. The Yrassian effect was rapidly destructive to essentially all known animal life. A quarter-ton Yrassian bomb could clear an area five hundred kilometers in radius of all fauna in mere hours. Outside of a modest blast zone, the flora, the geographic features, and all the superstructure of a civilized world would remain untouched.

And now the Klingons not only had the technology, but they planned to test it on this peaceful world.

Kirk reached to the back of his belt and flipped open his communicator. "Landing party to Enterprise."

"Enterprise here. Go ahead, landing party."

"Status, Scotty?"

"Holding our own, sir. Both warships confirmed destroyed. No other Klingon vessels within scanner range. Scanners indicate approximately 2200 Klingons on the surface, mostly en mass and moving towards you. We estimate their reaching your position inside of three hours."

Kirk looked at Spock who was already scanning. "Confirmed, Captain. A large contingent of Klingons with personal energy weapons heading this way from bearing 64 mark 4. Distance: 2.73 kilometers." He looked up from his instrument. "But I must differ on the time estimate. I presume Mr. Scott's numbers assume a linear rate of travel. The terrain to be crossed is about to become significantly smoother. I would estimate arrival of the front line in 87 minutes."

"Okay," Kirk said distractedly. "Ship's status, Scotty?"

"Four casualties, sir." Kirk's belly fell. He felt the heaviness of four more souls weigh down his heart just a little more. And 427 more hanging in the balance.

"And my ship?" he prodded impatiently.

There was a pause. "By regulations, sir?"

Curtly, "Of course."

"Then it is a mess up here, sir," Scotty's clipped tones continued evenly. "Hours are turning into days. No immediately critical damage but most non-essential systems are out. We canna bring you back for nine days, maybe eight at best."

Kirk filled his lungs, straightened his shoulders. So be it. "Very well, Mr. Scott. Monitor our position as long as it continues to be safe to do so. Watch for evidence of mission termination, but do not risk the Enterprise. Your first obligation is to the ship, is that clear?"

"Perfectly, sir," Scotty responded. He sounded slightly scandalized that anyone might doubt it.

"If all goes as planned this may be our last transmission. When you have transporter capability, lock on to our transponders and beam up whatever you can."

"We could send a shuttle--"

"Negative!" Kirk barked into the communicator. "It is about to get hot down here, Mr. Scott, very hot. No one else, no one, is to come down under any circumstances. You have your orders, understood?"

"Yes, sir." There was a pause. "And good luck. We'll be fine. Enterprise out."

Kirk clipped his communicator back in. "Well, Mr. Spock, that as they say, is that. We have one hour in which to obliterate this cache. The Klingon troops--?"

"Difficult to say, Captain. The Rebunium ore within the walls of the chamber makes the area of radiation effect somewhat difficult to predict. Certainly anyone within the chamber will be immolated. While the fortuitous angle of the cavern entrance will direct the wave skyward, there will be a dead zone within some radius of the blast. It seems almost certain that the Klingon contingent will be within it. I regret that I have insufficient data to provide a more definitive answer."

"War is hell," Jim said shortly. "They instigated this assault; win or lose, they face the consequences. I have no grief to spare for them." He paused. "The hot zone is free of Sihonians?"

"Nearest settlement 247 kilometers away. As I have stated, I cannot speak to the size of the fallout zone."

"We seem to be very short on options, Mr. Spock."

"Agreed, Captain. Given the gravity of the situation, the risk seems highly logical."

"Give up a city to save a world?" His eyes were tight with pain. "Is that your logical equation?"

"Jim, we are two against an army. To defeat them under any circumstances would be a miracle. This is certainly our only chance. I regret that I see no other solution." Spock's face was deceptively impassable.

Jim looked about. "So...the city might be spared?"

"Entirely possible, sir. Yrassian wave dynamics are not well studied."

Improbably, Jim smiled. He glanced sidelong at the monument to Mycabi. "Then may their god protect them." Decided, he swung his legs over the edge and hopped down to the tunnel.

Less than a week ago the Enterprise had intercepted a message. The Klingons were massing for a stealth attack on Sihon, a potentially invaluable pre-industrial world just outside of Klingon space. The Klingons had already transferred enough Yrassian bombs to exterminate the entire population. Starfleet sent the nearest vessel to intervene. Of course, the prime directive was in full force.

Due to the exigent circumstances Kirk and Spock had gone alone, their mission: seek and destroy the munitions and save the planet from annihilation. Fleet command had made it clear that their two lives would be considered more than a fair exchange for the continued existence of a young world. Both men had agreed, without reservation.

Locating the arsenal had been relatively easy. Evading the Klingons was not. Two warships had intercepted the Enterprise just outside of transporter range of Sihon. The landing party had launched in a shuttlecraft as the battle began. For over two hours the shuttle had drifted planetward on inertia, engines cut off to evade detection. Watching his ship fighting for her life while he floated helpless in space had given Kirk some of the worst moments in his career.

But the Klingon ships were destroyed; Starfleet reinforcements were less than a day away. The Klingon ground assault team was cut off from space support. It remained only to destroy the instruments of war before the ground assault troops could reach them.

Jim led the way down the rough passage, avoiding the use of their handlights. The hallway was lined with the archaic torches used in the traditional Sihonian service. They stood dark and inutile. In their stead, portable Klingon luminaries lit the way with an eerie red glow.

Around the corner, Spock heard the footsteps. He halted his captain with a gesture. Moving silently he rounded the bend, surprising the first guard with a neck pinch. Jim got off a stun shot, easily taking out the second sentry. Unruffled, they resumed course for the source of the radiation.

When they reached the main chamber they stood aghast. The floor was strewn with broken idols. There were great cuts in the wall, the rock, the stone altar where once precious minerals had been consecrated to Mycabi. The entire chamber had been despoiled; it was unrecognizable as a place of worship. Nearly every free meter of floor space was filled with armaments bearing the insignia of the Klingon Empire.

"My god," Kirk whispered, surveying the desecration.

"Revised estimate of Klingon troops' arrival: 72 minutes," Spock announced.

"Are you sure this is all of it?" Kirk asked quietly. Spock consulted his tricorder.

"Affirmative, Captain. This store accounts for all Yrassian radiation emanating from this planet. Destroy the contents of this chamber and the Klingon ground team will be effectively powerless." He shut off the tricorder and waited for Kirk's decision.

Jim ran his hand through his hair. "Hours turn into days," he mused. "Eight hours before we can look for rescue. Spock, how long will the dissipation field last?"

"Your phaser, please, Captain."

Jim surrendered it without comment. Spock scanned the two phasers with his tricorder. "With the immensity of the radiation surge, the field must be set on maximum. It will consume power at an enormous rate. With our current power supply we will have protection for approximately 1.18 hours."

"Can we use the energy from the lighting devices? Harvest it somehow into the field?"

Spock considered briefly. "Negative, Captain. The Klingon devices are fueled by an impure form of energy. Once exposed to the radiation it would be more of a liability than a manageable power source."

"Think, Spock! You're the science officer. There must be some way to extend the field life to 8 or 9 hours."

Spock faced his captain squarely. "I know of no way. I am sorry." His face was a rigid mask.

"All right," Jim gathered himself. "Then we proceed with our mission as planned. Set a ten second delay on the detonator and ready the field around the altar."

Spock stood motionless. "Captain," he began, "death from the initial flare would be immediate and presumably painless. In contrast, death from exposure to the Yrassian C radiation fallout would be prolonged over several agonizing hours. That is assuming that we are not also captured by the Klingons, interrogated, and tortured. As we can expect no help from the Enterprise before dissipation field failure--"

"You heard the order, Spock. Set the field."

"Jim--"

Kirk looked at his first officer in surprise. "Trepidation Spock? That's not like you."

Spock shook his head. "It is not my own situation which concerns me. Vulcan physiology is somewhat more resistant than human. I would survive for many hours, conceivably, although unlikely, even to reach treatment. Your proposal is illogical. Your death is an inevitable outcome, however suffering may be avoided."

Jim pulled a small smile out from somewhere. "No one's dead yet," he said, giving Spock a reassuring wink. "Now set the field."

Spock pulled a small device out of his side pouch and set it on the raised podium in the center of the altar. He clipped the two hand phasers and reserve belt power packs to it. From a spray wand he squirted a thin line of a metallic substance in circle around the altar base. Spock said, "Captain, if you would kindly step inside the circle." Kirk complied.

Spock reached back on his belt and pulled out a tiny blinking card. He looked at Jim who gave him an almost imperceptible nod. Surveying the room he tucked the card under a weapons stack near the center of the chamber. He pressed a button and stepped quickly back within the confines of the circle. He hit a button on the device on the altar and they were instantly surrounded by an energy dome of brilliant translucent gold.

"Four...three... two... one...." The chamber exploded in a blinding blast of pure white heat. When it subsided they could see nothing but the golden dome. The weapons, the supplies, the foul alien lights had all been ripped away in the glorious cleansing burst. Spock scanned the chamber. He reported succinctly, "Radiation C: levels off the scale. Radiation A levels: negligible. The armaments are destroyed. Phaser power at 97%. Estimated duration of field: 63 minutes." He replaced the tricorder at his hip and stood at rest in front of his captain. They both shimmered in the numinous gold glow of the field.

"Well done," Jim said quietly. Quite unexpectedly his eyes took on a familiar twinkle. "So, Mr. Spock," he continued, "now we are alone in the dark with 63 minutes to spare. What do you suggest we do?"

"Captain?" Spock inquired, beginning to fear that he recognized that tone all too well.

"Well," Jim said, taking a step closer to his lover, "if you have no ideas, I can think of something." He extended a hand. The Vulcan accepted it instinctively, bracing himself for the inevitable rush of emotions from Jim's volatile mind. To his surprise he felt no fear. Pride, love, and that inexorable resoluteness, but not a trace of fear anywhere. He allowed himself to be pulled into an embrace.

"Jim," he managed when Jim's soft lips allowed it, "this was not how I had anticipated ending my service to Starfleet."

Of all things, Jim laughed. "Are you saying that you had previously anticipated this somewhere else in your service to Starfleet?" He backed of just a little to regard his love with affection. "Well, I assure you, your service to Starfleet, and to me, has been...outstanding. I just wonder...where I should pin the medal...?" His voice trailed off as he worked his lips down Spock's neck, his fingers over the tunic seal.

"Jim--" Spock breathed heavily.

"Come on, Spock, live a little," Jim coaxed. "Unless you have a better idea."

Not waiting for a reply, Jim expertly dropped Spock's trousers in a puddle. The Vulcan was not in much better shape himself. The desperate energy of Jim's unbridled lust washed over him with a ferocity that they seldom allowed. Barely able to move, much less speak, Spock made no protest as his lover bent him over the altar.

Massaging the Vulcan's ass with one hand and his own erection with the other, he worked his cock mercilessly bringing himself to the edge in record time. With a strangled cry he rubbed the precum over the tip and over his rock hard dick. Gasping, he spat forcefully into his hand and stroked himself firmly, again stopping barely in time.

Reverently he ran his hands up the full length of the Vulcan's flank, kissing his back, grinding his erection into the receptive cleft. Rewarded by the rasping sound of Spock's own excitement he could stand no more. He plunged himself into the depths of his lover thrusting his hips firmly against Spock's hot ass. It was over in less than a minute. He came with an intensity that brought him to his knees, enervated and replete.

As the physical and emotional cataclysm abated, Spock turned and sank to the ground beside him. Jim pulled himself up to nestle against the hot chest. He felt a trickle of sweat run down his chest. The Vulcan's inanely fast heartbeat drummed against his side. Spock's own erection pressed into his thigh, hot but undemanding.

"I'm sorry, Spock." Jim chuckled quietly to himself. "I didn't mean to shoot off like that. I don't know what came over me."

"Given our current situation, I believe expediency might be entirely appropriate," Spock said without a hint of irony. "Fifty-five minutes remaining."

Jim gave him an indescribable look. Finally, his face shifted to the brilliant grin Spock knew so well. "That should be right about enough for what I have in mind. He peeled of the green sweat-soaked velour over his head, then he reached for his own waistband.

"Captain," Spock said, regarding him quizzically. "Do you have access to additional information?"

"Information?" Jim repeated, stroking Spock's cock softly. "What I am accessing at the moment could be referred to in a variety of ways, but I don't think I have ever heard it called 'information'. " He bent down to take the Vulcan's penis gently, tantalizingly, in his mouth.

Spock grabbed his head and firmly pulled him off. "Jim, I am finding your attitude most incongruous with our predicament. I am having difficulty reconciling the two. Please, I require...an explanation."

Jim sat up and ran fingers through his own disheveled hair. "I'm sorry," he said simply, slumping back against the cool stone. "I don't have one. I just don't...I just can't believe that we are going to die here."

"You have reason to discount my assessment?" Spock asked curiously.

"No," Jim shook his head, "not discount. I wouldn't dream of arguing with your logic. I just don't believe it. Four hours ago no one thought two men armed only with hand phasers could destroy an army with a stockpile of wide-range weapons. But we did." He grinned and pulled himself up to sit on the low altar platform. "There is too much life here, Spock too much hope, too much energy. Can't you feel it? I can. I just don't think that we can die here.

"Besides," Jim added, as he stood up and pulled off his own pants, "I've always known I'll die alone."

Jim stood stock-still, naked in front of the altar, resplendent in the scintillating light of the field. A golden offering to the god of this place, any god, any one. A living, breathing sacrifice that would not be refused or denied.

"So," he said, mustering his best bedroom smile, "now that I've answered your question, will you fuck me?"

Spock groaned. Was there anything in the galaxy that could stand against James Kirk? Spock stood to take his love in his arms. He kissed him fiercely, possessively. Spock's erection returned full force, almost crushing him with the raging rush of his returning desire. Far in the distance he recognized the faint shadow of grief and loss. He now felt the distant touch of fear, the fear of losing all this. The fear only multiplied his drive to possess this man, to make them one for all time. As he reached for the deeper meld he realized with a sudden shock that the fear he was feeling not Jim's, but his own merely echoed in Jim's mind. As always, Jim's invincible courage stood fast in the face of the unknown--or the inevitable.

The ineffable energy of Jim's unbridled passion was too much. Spock gasped. Shaking, he urged his lover down and on the stone altar. Taking the semi-erect penis in his mouth he fervently licked and sucked in the oft-practiced fashion that Jim loved so much. In a short while Jim was hard again, rocking under the Vulcan's mouth.

Attuned to his lover's readiness, Spock pulled back. Jim half sat, reached for him, urged him back, but Spock only waited at arms length. Jim smiled in relief as he watched Spock stroking his own cock to ramrod rigidity. "Oh, yes!" Jim groaned in relief as he twisted and slid off the bench. He stuck his ass high in the air and waited with eyes closed in glorious anticipation.

Slowly Spock entered just a little, reveling in the gasp from Jim's lips. He tightened his cheeks, thrusting his pelvis back and forth in tight, fast movements. Using just the tip he moved in and out over the sphincter. Summoning all his control he withdrew. Jim whimpered at the loss. With a feather-light motion Spock dragged the tip of his penis lightly over the back of Jim's scrotum. Then he plunged in again only to withdraw, to repeat the perverse, teasing caress.

On the fourth such pass Jim could take no more. "Finish it, Spock," he groaned. "For god's sake, finish us off." Jim's ragged plea tore at his heart. Spock reached up and took firm hold of the glistening shoulders. Jim's breath came in quick shallow sobs. With one powerful movement he buried himself deep in Jim's ass. He thrust hard once, twice, three times. Jim's desperate body tensed beneath him, ripe for release. Then Spock moved one hand--moved it gently up to the vulnerable nape of Jim's neck.

Jim bucked violently. With one smooth motion he threw Spock off, rolled to the side and leapt to his feet. Glistening with sweat he burned hot in the golden light, as angry as Spock had ever seen him.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Jim demanded.

Spock rose to his feet and met the flashing eyes. How could he make Jim understand the compassionate betrayal when he himself did not? The Vulcan said simply, "I estimate 17 seconds remaining to the field power supply."

Jim looked, incredulous. "Spock, I am your commanding officer; I make the decisions here. I am not some child to be coddled and protected! So just what the hell were you thinking?"

An unreadable expression took over Spock's face. His voice was quiet and even. "It was not you I sought to protect," he said, only now recognizing the fact himself. The pain was undisguised, but he continued, "I give you my complete loyalty. I will follow your orders, even unto death. But I will not watch you die."

Jim took pity. In the face of such naked honest, how could he do otherwise?

His voice softened. It was barely a whisper. "It seems I am always asking too much of you, Mr. Spock," he said in the manner of a quote. Now Jim's face held nothing but a golden beatific smile. Jim held out a hand. "Agreed. You need not watch me die." He grabbed Spock by the shoulders, hard. "But," he said, his voice urgent and intimate, "you will let me live every minute, every second of the time allotted to us, whatever that may be. In a very real way we are all on borrowed time--all the time. I won't have my life, our lives, become merely an endless evasion of death. We have too much else to do."

Spock regarded him closely, the golden light playing over his face, his shoulders, his hair. He wondered absently if there was anyone who would not follow this man wherever the path may lead, to the promised land...or beyond. But they could not hold the moment much longer.

Spock's gaze shifted imperceptibly to the side, to the generator. And then his brow wrinkled in consternation. He broke away to study the device.

"Captain, 64.7 minutes have passed since triggering the dissipation field." He reached for his abandoned tricorder.

Scanning the unit, he looked up, puzzled. "Phaser power packs are at 82%. Field is holding steady."

"Explanation?" Jim came to look over his shoulder.

Spock shook his head. "I have none."

"Could it be the Rebunium ore? Some interaction with the Yrassian radiation?

"Captain," Spock said, setting down the tricorder, "you do not comprehend. I have considered all the known variables. There is nothing in any science that I understand that could explain how the phaser fuel could continue to burn. The rate of generator usage is exactly as predicted. By calculations, the supply should have already been depleted, but it is not. According to fundamental laws of energy, this is not possible. And yet our continued well-being is a testament to the fact that it has occurred."

"How long now?"

Spock looked vaguely chagrined. "Since I cannot understand the power utilization dynamic, I cannot give you a meaningful answer to that question."

Jim rubbed his neck and looked around. "Maybe there is one more miracle left in this old temple after all," he said with a grin. "In any event, since it's good news, I suggest we return to what we were doing."

Spock's eyebrow shot up. "Perhaps my time would be better spent monitoring the field generator."

Jim shrugged. "Why?" he reasoned. "You already said you don't understand it. We couldn't take any useful action regardless of if or when it fails, so what would be the point?" He smiled gently, "Spock, what will be will be. Have a little faith. Let's make the best of it."

Spock inclined both eyebrows, but allowed himself to be led back down to the smooth stone tablet.

*****

Long hours later Kirk was awakened by a rough shake. "Receiving an emergency transporter signal, Captain," said Spock.

"Um." Kirk swung to his feet, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. "Bless you Scotty, you are indeed a miracle worker!" Jim marveled aloud. He smoothed down his rumpled uniform and stepped over to stand next to his first officer. They were once again the consummate command team. A mechanical hum filled the air. And then they were gone.

Even after they had vanished, the pure golden light continued to burn through the darkness.

~fin
 

SPIKE/XANDER

Title: Christmas Wishes
Author: Belle
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Spike/Xander Fandom: Buffy
Spoilers: There is no real timeline in my story. I took Christmas and placed my favorite characters there.
Summary: Willow does a spell.
Disclaimer: The town of Sunnydale and none of the characters in this story belong to me. They would have more fun if they did. Only the story is mine.
Note: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent 
Feedback Email address: niteshadow7@hotmail.com

CHRISTMAS WISHES

December 22nd - Willow:

Willow set out her candles and herbs. She was all smiles as she prepared to do a spell. Tara was asleep in their bed. They had shared a bottle of wine to celebrate being together for Christmas. After Tara fell asleep, Willow started thinking about her other friends. They all seemed so lonely. Giles had the shop but no one special person to spend time with. Buffy spent most of her time slaying and taking care of Dawn. Xander had broken up with Anya and seem to spend most of his spare time with Spike, which was just weird. Willow even felt a little sorry for Spike. He was alone after a century with Dru. Dru was nuts but Spike still loved her. Willow, being Willow, decided to do a spell to give her friends their deepest wish for Christmas. The spell called to a wish demon that Willow had read about in one of Giles' books. The demon or fairy would look into the dreams and wishes of her friends for two nights and then grant the deepest, true wish of their hearts. Willow did the spell, put up her things and fell asleep. She seldom had alcohol so it affected her more than some. The next morning she barely remembered doing the spell at all.

December 24th - Spike:

Spike woke up in a really bad mood. He was having very depressing dreams. He was a soulless vampire. He should never have romantic dreams. Dreams of music, flowers, candles and love ever after. Those were girly dreams. He was a man. Oh hell, who was he trying to kid. He was a pathetic wanker. He had a crush. A major crush on a damn Scooby. It was revolting. He needed to kill something. He hopped out of bed and went to watch telly and have a snack. It was very dark looking for afternoon and it seemed cold for sunny California. He cracked open the door to the crypt and peeked out. "Bloody fucking hell. What's going on? It's not supposed to do this!" Everything was white and the snow was still falling. There must be six or seven inches of the fluffy powder already. Spike slammed the door and stomped back to his chair. He had a bag of blood then started on a nice bottle of JD. Two hours later the bottle was empty and Spike was feeling a little less depressed.

"We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christ---mas." Spike couldn't believe it. What idiot was singing in a Sunnydale cemetery and it almost dark? And was that sleigh bells? "Spike. Spikey. Come out and play. I brought us a toy. Spikeeeee! Please come out." Spike rolled his eyes. How the hell had Xander stayed alive this many years? He should know better. Every demon around had probably heard him by now. He opened the door and his jaw dropped.

There was a Christmas sleigh pulled by real reindeer. In the back of the sleigh were piles of presents. Driving the sleigh was a very tipsy Xander. A Xander wearing green tights that left nothing to the imagination. He was also wearing a green shirt and green boots. He had a green pointy hat on his head.

"Spike let's go. I'm delivering presents to some kids and older people. Come help. I was gonna drive the car but look Spike. I found a sleigh and clothes. Here's yer clothes Spike. Hurry. We gotta hurry. Come on Spikeee. I'm waiting."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about? And get 'er ass out of that thing. Are you drunk?" As Xander fell out of the sleigh, Spike got a good look as him. Damn that boy was built. Construction work had filled him out real nice. He had a big package showing in the front of them green tights too. As Spike was checking him out, Xander got to his feet. He handed a red pile of cloth to Spike. "Put this on and you can help me. It'll be fun. I like having fun with you. Please Spike. No one will know except me. Pretty please Spike." Spike tore his eyes away from Xan's ass and grabbed the clothes. It was a Santa suit. "Are you out of your mind? I'm not wearing this. I'm a vamp not some nancy boy," he sneered at Xander. Then he saw the hurt in his boy's eyes. The look that said, 'no one ever wants to have fun with me. I'm not worthy.' Spike hated that look. Between the look and the bottle of JD, Santa was soon in the sleigh with his beautiful drunken elf. He was holding the reins since he at least knew how to drive a sleigh. Soon they were headed down the streets of Sunnydale to deliver Xander's gifts.

December 24th - Buffy:

Buffy sat on the floor looking at the tree. She and Dawn had tried to make everything nice for Christmas. They missed their mom but they had to move on. The gang was coming over tonight. All the girls had cooked different things to eat. Xander and Spike liked to eat. Buffy even had blood ready for Spike. It was strange to be feeding a vampire. There were lots of presents under the tree. Everyone had brought their gifts over early so they would have less to deal with at the last minute. Buffy had noticed that Spike had hid some behind the tree. She had not said anything to him. He would just get pissed off. Dawn had gone to a friend's house for the afternoon. Buffy was enjoying the quiet. She hoped for a happy holiday. Every holiday some demon showed up to ruin things. Instead of being with friends and family, she was out slaying something or trying to stop the hellmouth from opening. She would love to have a few days of vacation. Something slayers never seem to have. She wondered what Angel was doing. Willow talked to Cordelia often, so she knew everything was the same for him. Kill the bad guys and have no life.

December 24th - Angel:

Angel walked slowly down the streets of Sunnydale. He really didn't understand why he was here. For days he had been thinking of Spike. Everyone in LA was talking about Christmas and family. Although Angel didn't talk about it, he considered Spike family. Spike was special, that's why Angel had kept Buffy from staking Spike when he was drunk over Drusilla. Angel knew about the chip and it wasn't right. Maybe vampires killed humans, but slowly starving them was wrong. Spike couldn't even defend himself. The demon in Angel was outraged that any human could hurt Spike and he could not stop them. Angel was enjoying the snow. He loved walking in the afternoon and not worrying about the sun. He had woken last night and decided to come to check on Spike. He knew Buffy and Giles was taking care of Spike, but they knew little about vampires. They researched killing demons not saving them. Plus Xander Harris hated vamps. Angel didn't think he would hurt Spike, but he knew Xander would not be good to him. He wanted to make sure Spike was getting food and was OK. He was on his way to Buffy's house. She could tell him where Spike was staying. He always dreaded seeing Buffy. It brought so many unhappy feelings. Lost love and a little fear, after all she did send him to hell. He knocked on her front door.

When Buffy opened the door to Angel she was very surprised. Angel never showed up without some warning. "Angel, what's wrong? Why are you in Sunnydale?"

"I came to see Spike. Can you tell me where he is living?" Angel looked around the room. There was a large tree and decorations everywhere. It all looked so warm and cozy. Angel secretly loved Christmas.

"Spike? You came to see Spike. Why? What's he done now?" Buffy was all ready prepared to go pound on the bleached blonde.

"He hasn't done anything Buffy. I just needed to see him. Do you know where he might be?"

"Well you could stay here. Everyone is coming to eat and exchange gifts. Spike will be here soon. I would like for you to stay." Angel nodded his head and smiled. Spike was having Christmas with the Slayer. He couldn't wait to tell Cordelia.

December 24th - Spike and Xander:

What the hell was Xander doing? They had delivered the gifts and Xan had stopped to get snacks and something to drink. They were pretty much sober now, but neither was ready to stop yet. Xander was cold out in the snow with those thin tights on and wanted something warm. Spike could see him through the shop window. He seemed to be waving his arms and screaming at some man. Then the man disappeared. Xander ran out the door and hopped in the sleigh. Spike headed the sleigh down the street. "What mojo did you work on that man, luv? He disappeared."

"Mojo? I didn't do anything! There was eggnog in the floor and he blamed me. I was trying to tell him I didn't do it but he slipped and fell. I decided to run before he got back up. Here Spike have some cocoa. It'll warm you up."

"Xander, I'm a vamp. A fire or a nice human warms me up. Now let's go somewhere and get me out of this bloody red suit before the slayer sees us. I'll never hear the end of it. The Big Bad in a damn Santa suit." He didn't want the boy to know he was having fun. They had taken gifts to some kids that barely had a roof over their heads. The stuff Xan gave them was probably the only thing they would be getting for Christmas. The older people were just lonely. They tried to keep Santa and his Elf as long as they could. Xander gave them a present and asked about their problems. It was obvious that he knew most of them. Spike would be asking a lot of questions later. He loved spending time with the boy. When he first came to Sunnydale, Angel had offered the boy to Spike. It was a diversion, but Spike never forgot. For a long time Spike ignored the boy. He didn't seem worth very much. After staying in the basement, Spike realized there were hidden depths to Xander. There was so much he kept hidden from his friends. He also understood why Xan joked all the time. He family life sucked, a drunk and abusive dad and a mum that didn't seem to care. Slowly Spike fell in love with the boy. That was bad. Xander didn't seem to hate him anymore, but he would never fall for a vampire and he was not into blokes. Spike looked over at his love.

Xander was drinking his cocoa and watching Spike. "Let's go to the park Spike. It's dark and almost time to go to Buffy's. We can make a snowman and then go change clothes. I've never made a snowman." Spike turned the sleigh towards the park. If Xander wanted a snowman, he would have a snowman. They had finished the snowman with Xander's hat. It was a snow elf. They stood in front of it admiring their work. Xander's arm was around Spike's shoulders. When Spike looked up at him with a big smile on his face, Xander leaned over and kissed him. It was just a little kiss but Spike felt his legs melt. He was shocked. He didn't move until he saw the uncertainty in Xan's eyes. He turned and hugged the boy to him and kissed Xander again. This time the kiss was slow and long. "Xan?"

"Merry Christmas Spike." Before the afterglow could wear off, they were attacked. Little children sized demons came from every direction. They grabbed stakes hoping they would stop the pint sized killing machines. It was hard to stake them because they were so small. When the stakes entered their chest, they turned into snow childern. It was very weird. When all the demons were gone, Xander grabbed Spike's hand and ran for the sleigh. "Let's go back to the crypt and change clothes. Then we'll go to Buff's for the party. OK?" They jumped in the sleigh and headed to the graveyard. They almost ran over Willy when they were trying to kiss and guide the reindeer at the same time.

December 24th - Buffy and friends:

Willow and Tara ran in Buffy's front door. "Buffy we need help. You know the Christmas display in front of Wal-Mart? There were real reindeer for the children to see and a sleigh with a plastic Santa and Elf. Well something or someone has possessed them. Some friends saw them going down the street singing and throwing things at people. Then the Elf did a spell on the store manager at the gas station. They saw him chanting and waving his arms. They found the manager covered in some kind of sticky stuff and he can't remember anything. Someone else saw them in the park. They turned a bunch of little kids into snowmen. We have to stop them Buffy. Oh, oh, hi Angel. I didn't know you were here."

"Willow. Slow down. We have to call Giles. Do you know where the demons are now?"

"They were heading towards Spike's cemetery. We better hurry. Xander was meeting Spike there. You know he's a demon magnet. They might hurt him before Spike can help."

Buffy went to get weapons. So much for my wish for the holidays she thought. She could hear Angel talking to Willow. He seemed very confused. "Why is Xander meeting Spike and why would he help Xander? Don't they hate each other? Xander has always hated me."

"Oh, I guess you don't know. Spike and Xander are friends. They do all kinds of things together. Play pool, go clubbing and to the movies. It's kinda strange but they seem to like each other. I mean I never thought I would see Spike and Xander go bowling." Willow was bouncing while Tara watched in amusement.

Buffy came back in the room with stakes and other supplies. "We'll have to walk. Giles is meeting us there." It was fun walking in the snow even if they were going to slay. Giles was waiting by the gates.

"Let's go and be careful. We don't know what we are dealing with here. It could be almost anything." They eased forward trying to be quiet. Soon they saw the sleigh. It was close to Spike's crypt. The reindeer were eating grass and the sleigh was rocking gently. A red hat was lying on the ground and a fake white bread was hanging on a bush. In the back of the sleigh was a big red blanket. It was moving and lows moans and growls were coming from under it. They surrounded the sleigh, stakes ready.

"I love you. I've wanted to say that for so long but I was afraid. I thought you would hate me and go away. I'm a man with nothing special about me and I know you like Buffy, but when you smiled at me I couldn't wait anymore. I had to kiss you. I still can't believe you kissed back."

" I love you too. You're my Christmas pressie. Best one I've ever gotten. Now kiss me some more. Melts my socks off it does. No wonder all the demons chase you. They're trying to get kisses. You sure we have to go to the Slayer's, pet?"

The Scoobies were looking at each other in shock. "Xander! Spike! What the hell is going on here?" The blanket rolled back slowly. There was Spike and Xander all tangled up together. Xander in green and Spike half wearing a Santa suit. Their lips were red and puffy and Xander had a large hickey on his neck. It was quite obvious what they had been doing. They looked at each other and then back at the gang.

"Buffy what are you doing here?" squeaked Xander. He had wanted to tell his friends about Spike, but not like this.

"Slayer. Peaches. What you gits gawking at? Never seen two friends have fun before? Just having a little fun, we were. No call to stake us." That's when everyone realized they still had stakes in their hands. They lowered the stakes while everyone tried to think of something to say. "Xander, what are you doing with Spike. We, we heard you say you loved him. I didn't know you liked guys. I thought you liked women. You've never dated a guy before." Willow was bouncing and rubbing her hands. "Actually I'm bi. I've dated a few guys since high school, but I fell in love with Spike. He makes me happy in a way no girl ever has. I was going to tell you later. I had to find out how he felt first." Xander smiled at Spike, who promptly kissed him.

"You guys are never to do that in front of me again. Ever. You hear me? Xander? Spike? Buffy hit both of them on the head. "Now lets go home." "Wait a moment Buffy. We need to know some things. Now how did you two get this sleigh? Why were you throwing rocks at people? How did Xander perform a spell on someone and why did you turn children into snow? We need to know if you are possessed. Start talking." Giles sounded a lot like Ripper right now.

Xander and Spike looked at each other in confusion. (There's a lot of that going around today.) "What the hell are you talking about? We didn't throw rocks at anyone. We gave candy to the kids and shoppers in town. We were playing Santa. The 'children' in the park were little demons. We had to fight them. They turned into snowmen when we staked them. We didn't hurt anyone." Xan in a panic.

"Xan's right. We didn't do nothing wrong. Those were evil little demons. They were after my Xan. Had to kill them and it wasn't' easy. Nasty little buggers, they were. And Xan didn't do any mojo on that git at the store either. He was yelling at my pet and fell and conked his head. Tell 'em luv."

"That's right. Well I might have left out the part about the sleigh. When it started to snow I couldn't get my car to go. I might have had a little too much wine at the center and I thought the sleigh would be a great way to deliver presents to the kids. I figured I could be the Elf and Spike could help me. The kids loved it. It made them so happy Willow. You should have seen them. I just wanted them to have a better Christmas than I always had." He leaned against Spike. Spike pulled him closer and kissed his temple.

Angel had not said a word. He knew his Childe well and he knew when he was in love. Spike had never hid his emotions well. Angel couldn't believe it. Spike was in love with Xander Harris and it looked as if Xander felt the same. He would stay a little longer and watch them. He still needed to talk to Spike. He looked fine but Angel needed to make sure before he went back home.

All the way back to Buffy's they had fun. Throwing snowballs, singing, being kids. Even Angel broke down and hit Giles with a few well-placed snowballs. Everyone pretended not to see Xander and Spike occasionally kissing and feeling each other up. Dawn was waiting when they reached the house. She had been worried when she arrived home and no one was there. When she saw Xander and Spike holding hands, she squealed and kissed them both. They both talked to her and she knew how they both felt. She was so happy they finally told each other.

The girls put all the food on the table. After everyone ate and Spike and Angel had some blood, they all went into the living room. There were gifts for everyone except Angel. No one knew he was coming. There were lots of hugs and laughs as the presents were opened. Spike loved his Sex Pistols CDs that Xander bought him. Harmony had burned all his old ones. "This is the best holiday I've had in a long time. If I could have had anything I wished for, that would have been it. Just one holiday with no bad guys. Just friends and family."

"I got my wish too. I wanted snow for Christmas. I never thought I would get it in Sunnydale," sighed Dawn.

"I just wanted Willow to be happy and I think she is. Are you?" Tara looked at Willow shyly.

Willow started bouncing again. "It worked. I had forgotten until just now. The spell worked. I wanted my friends to be happy and for Xander to have a good Christmas. It worked."

Giles looked worried. He hated Willow doing spells she wasn't very sure about. "What kind of spell, Willow? Do we need to be worried?"

"No Giles. It was a good spell. I did a spell for a wish demon. I wanted all my friends to get their deepest desire. To get what they wanted for Christmas. The demon would see your dreams for two days and grant what they saw. That's it."

"Oh my God. That means Spike is chipless. Willow you know that's his wish. He's bad again." Buffy reached for a stake.

Angel and Xander both jumped in front of Spike. "Don't get your knickers in a twist slayer. I got my wish. I've been dreaming of Xander for months. I wanted him. He looked at Xan unhappily. "Is that why you love me? Some demon made you?"

Xander hugged him. "No Spike. I got what I wished for too. I've loved you for a long time. Maybe the demon just helped me tell you. If you don't believe me ask Dawn. I told her weeks ago."

"Nibblet? When I told you how I felt about Xander, why did you not tell me he loved me?"

"Both of you made me promise. I had to wait for both of you. Of course I have been thinking about locking you up somewhere until you talked. I was getting impatient."

"Giles what did you wish for? The spell included all my friends. Did you get your wish?"

"I would rather not say Willow. I did get my wish but it's personal. I'm very happy the spell worked. Please don't think we won't be having a little talk about it after the holidays. OK?" He smiled a Willow so she would not worry over Christmas.

It was almost midnight. Everything was cleaned up and people were leaving. Willow and Tara had left. Giles was on his way home. Angel stood on the front porch with Xander. "You really do love Spike don't you?" He turned and looked at the boy. "I noticed how you answered the question about your wish. They think you wished for Spike but you didn't. What did you wish for, because I believed you when you said you got your deepest desire?" "I did wish for Spike, just not the way they think. Everything will be OK Angel. I promise. I'll take care of Spike and make sure he's happy. I really do love him. I've been trying to show him for months. Getting him unusable blood from a friend at the blood bank. Helping him with humans. Keeping an eye out for those damn soldier boys. I'll try to make him happy. What was your wish Angel? I know it had something to do with you showing up unexpected."

Angel sighed. This boy was smarter than anyone gave him credit for. Except Spike. He had a feeling Spike knew almost everything about Xander Harris. I wanted to make sure he was doing OK. He is my Childe. I know most humans can't understand that. We've had our bad times but we're still family. I think he'll be just fine. Thanks Xander. I think you have done something I could not do although I think I wanted to." Angel smiled and went to tell Buffy and Spike goodbye. He would spend Christmas day in LA with Cordelia, Wes and Gunn. His other family. Spike would be fine. He couldn't wait to tell Cordy about this. Her ex-boyfriend and his Childe, in love.

December 25th - Giles:

Giles unlocked his front door. The room was warm with candles glowing everywhere. An ice bucket with a bottle of wine was on the table by the sofa. "All done with the kiddies Ripper? Come home to have some grownup fun?'

Giles walk over to his guest. The guest wearing bright red boxers and nothing else. "Shut up Ethan." Then Giles kissed him silly and ripped the boxers off. Ripper planned on doing many grownup things; after all he did get what he wished for. Now he wanted to play with his Christmas present. Sometimes Willow did do good spells.

December 25th - Xander and Spike:

The room was soft and cozy with scented candles surrounding the room. Soft music played in the background. Two bodies cuddled in the big bed with dark blue sheets. That color made Spike's eyes and skin glow.

"Xander? I heard what you said to Angel. If you didn't wish for me, what did you wish for?"

"I've wished for you for ages Spike. But Willow said that the demon granted the deepest desire we have. I love you so much Spike. That's why my strongest wish was 'for you' not to 'have you'."

"I don't understand pet."

" Spike do you remember when we came out of the music store today? I know you had been drinking a lot. There was a big man that ran over me. You called him a wanker and pushed him away. And tonight you made love to me. I was a virgin and it hurt some, but you didn't. Think about it."

Spike stared at Xander in awe. "The chip didn't go off. Xander are you telling me the chip doesn't work? You wished for me to lose the chip? Why? You hate what I am? Will you leave me now?" Spike looked worried. He loved Xander. He hated the chip. How was he supposed to choose between them?

"No Spike. I won't leave you. I'm hoping you won't kill my friends. Or turn me. At least yet. You might not want to anyway. But Spike, I hate the chip. Even before I loved you, I hated the chip. It's not right that you can't even feed yourself and I hate that anyone could beat you up or rape you or something. I want you to be the Big Bad again, just without the killing. OK? Will you please not kill my friends?"

Spike couldn't believe that Xander loved him that much. No one loved him that much. Then he remembered what Angel had said to Xan. 'You did what I wanted to.' Angel had wanted to remove his chip. Spike had never felt so loved. His Sire and his Pet. They loved him. He looked at Xander. "I promise to not kill your friends. If Buffy attacks I will protect myself but I won't kill her. I do want to spend forever with you, but I don't want you to lose your soul. You wouldn't be Xander then. You know pet I can claim you now. That way we can slow the aging process and research spells. Maybe I can turn you someday and still keep the soul. If I claim you other demons will leave you alone and we can be together for as long a possible. I love you. I have to find a way to thank Wills. Xan do we have to tell them about the chip right away? Can we wait? You know they will not be happy."

"We'll wait. I don't want to fight with them. Spike if comes to a choice between you and them, you do know that I will choose you? You are the best thing that ever happened to me. I will not let Buffy stake you. I would go live with Deadboy before I would let that happen. He won't let her either. Maybe after you claim me we can go visit my new granddaddy-in-law. I'm sure he would love a visit from us." Xander was smirking.

Spike was still stunned over the 'I would choose you'. "We'll do what ever you want. I love you Xander Harris. Let's celebrate some more." Then he stared kissing his Xan again. It was gonna be a great Christmas this year.

Fin

JIM/BLAIR

Title: Merry Christmas, Mrs. Ellison!
Author: Mereridkat (Margaret Newman)
RATING: NC17
Pairing: Jim/Blair
Fandom: The Sentinel
Disclaimer: I don't own them, not making any money, and I always put them back clean.
Note: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent
Author's note: Thanks to my friends at Preyland for the beta! This one is dedicated to CJM.
Feedback Email address: mereridkat@aol.com

Merry Christmas, Mrs. Ellison!

MrsEllison: Jim! You-whooo!

JJE1962: Excuse me? MRS ELLISON?

MrsEllison: I'm being creative.

JJE1962: You're being weird. Tell me you haven't emailed anyone with that?

MrsEllison: So you're saying that of our coupledom, you’re the Mrs?

JJE1962: No, Sandburg. We're two guys. Neither one of us is the Mrs.

MrsEllison: So you're saying you don't want to marry me?

JJE1962: I'm wondering why in the hell I was missing you five minutes ago.

MrsEllison: Aaahhh! I miss you too big guy!

JJE1962: I feel like I'm talking to my mother. Can't you change that?

MrsEllison: I don't wanna. <sniff>

JJE1962: <big fucking sigh>

MrsEllison: So what's the conference like? I bet Joel's glad he didn't have to room with you.

JJE1962: I'm glad I didn't have to room with Joel. He's calling Krystal every five minutes, making kissy noises. <shudder>

MrsEllison: You could call me and we could make kissy noises.

JJE1962: Shut up, Sandburg.

MrsEllison: Hey, you're alone right? In your room?

JJE1962: Yes. So?

MrsEllison: Wanna have cybersex?

JJE1962: NO.

JJE1962: I am a cop at a law enforcement conference. I DO NOT WANT TO HAVE CYBERSEX.

MrsEllison: Geez, cranky. Maybe we should sign off and you could go beat someone up.

JJE1962: I'd rather be home nailing you through the bed.

MrsEllison: Not if you're cranky!

JJE1962: Why am I cranky?

MrsEllison: You're probably eating all the wrong foods, you haven't slept-

JJE1962: I've eaten exactly everything you put on the list.

MrsEllison: How are the sheets working out?

JJE1962: Why am I cranky, Sandburg?

MrsEllison: That's what I'm trying to figure out!!!!!!!

JJE1962: I'm a thousand miles away from home.

JJE1962: I'm stuck in some fucking hotel with a bunch of Kojak-wannabes.

JJE1962: My lover is at home wearing my sweats, my bathrobe and probably my socks.

MrsEllison: :)

JJE1962: Going to a Jags game with his old girlfriend.

MrsEllison: ((that got cancelled))

JJE1962: We're having a record snow-

JJE1962: What?

MrsEllison: The game got cancelled. Her fiancé felt that it wasn't appropriate. So Lindsey caved.

JJE1962: Oh. I'm sorry, Blair.

MrsEllison: No big deal, man. Just filling in time waiting for my big puddy cat to come home.

JJE1962: THAT is not helping you.

MrsEllison: My snuggly-wuggly?

JJE1962: SANDBURG

MrsEllison: You know, in the spirit of being separated at a really sucky time of year, I haven't masturbated since you left.

JJE1962: We are not having cybersex.

MrsEllison: Okay, but you don't mind if I stroke myself while we talk, do you?

JJE1962: You little bastard.

MrsEllison: Hey, I might be short but I ain't little!

JJE1962: Yeah, I know.

MrsEllison: You said something -oh- about ssnow?

JJE1962: Stop that, that's not fair.

JJE1962: Record snow storm. We might not be able to fly back on Friday as scheduled.

MrsEllison: Ah, shit! That's not fair! I'm dying here without you!

MrsEllison: Jim?

JJE1962: I hate you.

MrsEllison: Are you naked?

JJE1962: NO

MrsEllison: I have your bathrobe on. I pulled off the sweats.

JJE1962: My new robe. <whimper>

MrsEllison: Can you smell me?

JJE1962: You know I can. Sense memory is hell.

MrsEllison: I got kind of bored in the shower this morning.

JJE1962: Oh, geez, no! Blair!

MrsEllison: Yeah, shaved my crotch again. God, I wish you were here!

JJE1962: Have I mentioned lately that I really REALLY hate you?

MrsEllison: Feels so smooth.

JJE1962: Guess who is speaking at the conference on forensic science?

MrsEllison: Rubbing the slit.

JJE1962: CAROLYN.

JJE1962: Blair?

MrsEllison: Way to go, big guy. Totally killed my mood.

JJE1962: I'm sorry, Blair, but I just can't do that. You know how repressed I am.

MrsEllison: Is she really there?

JJE1962: Yes, and guess what.

MrsEllison: You had dinner.

JJE1962: No.

MrsEllison: If she's there in the hotel room with you-

JJE1962: She's seven months pregnant and she isn't marrying the father.

MrsEllison: She what?!

JJE1962: She said the baby is her dream. She doesn't need a man to help her with it.

MrsEllison: She needed a man to get pregnant!

JJE1962: Nope, bought a spermsicle.

MrsEllison: Really? Fuck me!

JJE1962: I would, if I were HOME.

MrsEllison: That was a figure of speech. I know what you'll be doing when you get home.

JJE1962: What?

MrsEllison: Playin' hide the salami with your cute, ever so smart, and really charming boyfriend.

JJE1962: Yeah. I love you.

MrsEllison: Yeah, I know.

JJE1962: I gotta go. I have to meet Joel in ten minutes and then it's off to a seminar on "how psychics can help an investigation". Gag me.

MrsEllison: LOL I like you gagged. And tied to the bed.

JJE1962: Sandburg.

MrsEllison: Call me tonight? I promise no kissy sounds.

JJE1962: Swear?

MrsEllison: You know I do. Quite often and in multiple languages.

JJE1962: :)

MrsEllison: Later, my pussy.

JJE1962: Don't call me that!

MrsEllison: Kitty?

JJE1962: Sandburg!

MrsEllison: Later, Jim.

JJE1962: Okay. Bye.

MrsEllison: Byeee!

Jim signed off and shut down the computer. He got ready, sighing every few minutes. He really missed having Sandburg near. Even if they had to play it straight, at least he could hear that heart beat and smell that particular smell. He checked to make sure he had his key card, put on his game face, and left.

He didn't get back up to his room until after nine o'clock. A bunch of them had gone to dinner together at a place across from the hotel. As he walked back to his room, he was thinking about what Blair would be doing now when he heard a familiar sound. His head rose up.

He sniffed. He smelled a familiar smell.

Opening the door was a challenge as his fingers were all fumbly. He threw open the door, and immediately saw the backpack on the floor.

"Blair?"

"Well, you had better not be expecting Carolyn." Said the velvety voice from his bed.

"What the hell took you so long?" Jim was stripping as he crossed the room. The bedside lamp was on. There was his Blair, stretched out and naked -except for the Santa hat on his head.

"Wanna jingle my bells?" He laughed opening his arms and legs to his lover.

Jim's hands were all over him, and then stroking his cock, and his shaved balls. Blair moaned, his body shaking. "I'm gonna do more than jingle your bells." Jim growled.

He missed the morning meet-n-greet session. He missed the mid-morning brunch followed by the seminar on sensitivity training. Joel didn't bother calling. He already knew Jim had a visitor. Mainly because his visitor had been on the same plane.

END

MISC. Harry Potter universe

Title: Can't Blame The Mistletoe
Author: MadByrd
Fandom: Harry Potter Universe
Rating: PG-13 for mature subject matter (*You're* surprised? It shocked
the bejeepers outta me ;-)
Category: Holiday ficlet. Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent
Feedback: Makes the season bright :-) mreddy@nf.sympatico.ca
Pairing: Various
Spoilers, Notes & Warnings: (1) None that I can think of. (2) Go to Inkstained Fingers or The MadByrd's Roost ( http://madbyrd.slashcity.org  ) and read "SSSlytherin!" if you wanna know the details about Snape's new look. (3) Don't step in the reindeer poop.
Disclaimers: {Byrdie}: "Not mine, no money, don't sue." {Mighty Goddess J.K.R.}: "So why do it?" {Byrdie-- shrugs --}: "You-know-Who tempted me and I just couldn't resist." ::snicker:: No, I *don't* mean Voldemort.

CAN'T BLAME THE MISTLETOE

Hermione entered the Great Hall and stopped dead in her tracks. The house-elves
had gone totally overboard as only they could do with the decorations, but that wasn't it. Dumbledore and McGonnigal were wearing Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus outfits -- trust those bloody Yanks to "improve" on good old Father Christmas! -- but that wasn't it either. Fred and George were over by the punch bowl and very obviously up to no good, as anyone who'd attended the last Yule Ball (which meant everyone except Professor Snape, who'd been away on urgent Order of the Phoenix business and didn't get back until Hogmanay) could certainly attest -- but that *still* wasn't it.

And there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about Harry Potter sitting
at the teacher's table (he'd chosen to Apprentice, in potions of all things, in addition to his NEWTs) with a huge black python wrapped rather seductively around him. Both were lost in their own little world -- nothing strange there -- and once again
she gave thanks that she didn't speak Parseltongue, because obviously they were discussing rather intimate matters. She didn't bat an eyelash when the snake slid sinuously down Harry's shoulder, transformed into Severus Snape and sashayed off in the direction of the dungeons ... with a panting, drooling and -- Lordy, was that his *wand*? No wonder Snape walked funny in the mornings! -- Boy Who Lived hot on his round little heels.

Perfectly normal, that.

No, what held her fast as if she'd been hit with Petrificus Totalis was seeing Draco Malfoy sitting at ::gasp:: the Gryffindor table. To be precise about it( and Ms. Hermione Granger was nothing if not precise) he was at the Gryffindor table *in
Ron Weasley's lap* with his tongue probing the other boy's tonsils. And Ron, *her* Ron or so she'd always thought, was eagerly -- make that voraciously -- snogging him back.

And there wasn't a mistletoe in sight. Tons of greenery but not a single sprig of mistletoe.

'Mione blinked and shook her head. What the hell was in that eggnog anyway? Not even Trelawney's weird incense and very funny herbs could conjure up a stranger vision. Come to think of it, her Divinations teacher looked as gobsmacked by the display as she was. Not a hallucination, then. It had to be a charm, a hex or an attraction spell of doubtful legality.

In other words, a typical Slytherin ploy crafted for the sole purpose of embarrassing the rival House. At her best friend's expense -- and Ron was still her friend, even if she'd been ignoring him lately in favor of her own pursuits. Besides, he'd always known how important her career was; after all she was a modern, liberated witch. Surely he hadn't expected ...

Oh. My. God. Was that ... on Draco's left hand... it *couldn't* be. But it was. A diamond engagement ring. And not just any engagement ring either; this was the
Weasley diamond, a family heirloom handed down for...for as many generations as there were Weasleys.

And there were a *lot* of Weasleys. All of a sudden, Hermione felt ill.

The steamy kiss finally ended -- they must be running out of air, she thought -- but
Draco made no attempt to move, indeed to do anything but cuddle even closer and purr. Oh, and gaze adoringly up at Ron from behind a veil of long, golden lashes.
She swallowed hard. Ron was gazing back at him with equal adoration. He smiled
more lovingly than she had ever seen anyone do except her Dad when he looked at Mum that special way, and tenderly stroked Malfoy's cheek. As Draco leaned into the caress, Ron's other hand pressed ever so gently against his slightly rounded belly.

His *four months pregnant* belly.

KA-THUMP!!! Out she went like the proverbial light. Maybe even a bit faster, so great was the blow to her feminine ego. McGonnigal tsk-tsked and levitated her out of the way. Too much holiday cheer; it happened all the time.

A pair of house elves popped in, skinny arms overflowing with holly, ivy, and ...

"Mistletoe. Dobby is forgetting the mistletoe." With that he pinned the biggest, greenest, most berry-laden bunch right over the Gryffindor table, not at all coincidently where the newly betrothed couple were sitting. "Happy Christmas."

Ronald Weasley, soon to be Weasley-Malfoy, laughed and kissed his beloved's pert little nose. Happy Christmas indeed!

***********
The End.

***********

Nov. 26, 2002