December 2

CRIME:

Sentinel - Jim/Blair

By Angst Puppy

CRIME:

Starsky And Hutch - Starsky/Hutch

Along for the Ride by Lacey McBain (Separate page)

SCIENCE FICTION

Voyager - Chakotay/Paris

Author: Orithain
Title: The Right Wish
Date: December 2, 2004
Fandom: Star Trek: Voyager/SciFi
Pairing: Chakotay/Paris
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Tom has to decide what he really wants.
Disclaimer: If they belonged to me, I'd be able to watch this instead of writing about it. I didn't create them, but I sure do have fun playing with them, and the only person making profit is the real owner, who gets the royalties when I go out and buy copies for research... and to drool over. ;)
Feedback address: orithain67@sympatico.ca
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Note: Set immediately after "Blood Fever".
Beta: Nick

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Right Wish
By Orithain
December 2, 2004
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Be careful what you wish for, lieutenant."

Tom Paris stared at the closed doors of the turbolift for long moments after Lt. Torres left, long enough that the lift continued on and someone else came in before he blinked and stepped back.

"Something wrong, Paris?" Commander Chakotay asked, eyeing the blond curiously.

"I'm not sure." Tom turned to face the senior officer, his expression a curious mixture of excitement and wariness, though his eyes were focused inward. "Have you ever had something you'd wanted badly for a long time finally come within your grasp only to realize that you weren't sure you really wanted it? Sometimes it's too easy to focus on trying to attain the unattainable, to prove you're worthy of it, and forget about whether you want it for its own sake."

Chakotay blinked at the outpouring of words, especially from a man who had never been a friend even though his initial hatred and distrust had mellowed to a reluctant admiration of Paris' dogged determination to prove himself.

Suddenly realizing who he was pouring his heart out to, Tom flushed, cursing his fair complexion yet again, and stared at the wall over Chakotay's shoulder to avoid meeting his eyes.

Chakotay wished he could let it go at that, but he was the closest thing they had to a ship's counselor, which made it his duty to ensure the mental well-being of the crew, including one Thomas Eugene Paris. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, hoping his reluctance wasn't obvious.

The usual cocky mask instantly covered the helmsman's emotions. "Bet that had to hurt, huh, _Counselor_?" Paris taunted, distancing himself again.

Expression darkening, Chakotay had to remind himself that this was a crewmate and a subordinate officer, not an enemy. As he did, he realized how often he found himself in this position, and it suddenly came to him that Paris provoked him intentionally. "Why?" he blurted out.

Paris blinked in surprise, but the turbolift doors opening yet again spared him the necessity of a response, and he practically sprang out, startling a pair of crewmen who'd been waiting. "Sorry," he said over his shoulder, trying to make his escape.

Chakotay followed him off the lift and caught hold of Paris' arm, stopping him from getting away, completely indifferent to the interested gazes of the crewmen watching him detain Paris until the doors shut between the two groups.

"Why?" Chakotay repeated, gazing at Paris searchingly.

"Why what? Why do I think it hurt you to offer to lend an ear? Because you hate me, of course."

"I don't hate you," Chakotay replied automatically, only to be interrupted by a derisive snort.

"Yeah, right. Look, it's been a weird couple of days. I'm off duty, and I'm tired. Good night, Commander."

Ignoring the clear dismissal, Chakotay kept a firm grip on Paris' arm and started down the corridor, leading Tom toward the officers' quarters. Thinking that he'd been reprieved, Paris started to sigh with relief when they approached his room, but Chakotay didn't let go, instead continuing on to his own and practically pushing Paris inside.

"I don't hate you, not any more," Chakotay repeated after invoking a privacy lock on his door and putting his back against it to prevent Paris from escaping.

"Coulda fooled me."

"Apparently." The dark eyes seemed to see straight through the blond, prompting Tom to turn away and begin to prowl restlessly around the room. He wandered about, picking up a statue here, a bowl there, a woven rug across the room, and Chakotay mused that it was fortunate that he had so many personal possessions scattered around his quarters.

"I understand a little better now why you did what you did, Paris, or at least why you felt you had to do it," Chakotay explained, still watching the restlessly moving man. "And you've proven again and again that you wouldn't make the same choice now. You're a valuable member of this crew... and one of the best pilots in Starfleet," he added with a slight laugh.

Startled into a chuckle, Tom turned to face the commander. "I've been telling you that for years."

They shared a smile that faded slowly, and the atmosphere in the room eased to something more comfortable.

"So what's within your grasp that you're not sure you want?"

Paris tensed again. "I don't know what to do. I like her; I really do, but... I guess I never thought she'd look at me, so she was _safe_." He began pacing around the room again, the blue eyes looking everywhere except at Chakotay, B'Elanna's friend.

"You... B'Elanna?" Chakotay frowned. He would never have believed that the fiery half-Klingon would give Paris the time of day, her contempt for a man who'd betrayed both Starfleet and the Maquis constantly evident.

"Yeah, for the first time she's giving me some encouragement, I guess because I didn't take advantage of the situation, but..." Tom sighed as he paused at a view port, staring blindly at his own reflection. "In some way she became a symbol of acceptance. If B'Elanna could accept me, that meant everyone did, so I had to keep trying." He turned to face Chakotay, his expression conflicted. "I never really thought I had a chance. And her temper..." He frowned. "I think we're oil and water."

"More like oil and a match," Chakotay replied wryly. "The two of you together would be combustible." He shook his head as he sat down, still watching Paris. "Of course, if she's decided to give you a chance and you suddenly change your mind, she's going to be hurt and furious," he warned.

Tom groaned as he sank down on the other end of the sofa. "I know. I don't know what to do. The only thing that might work would be if I were involved with someone else, but I'm not, and I'm not so sure it would help anyway."

"No," Chakotay agreed, "about the only thing she could accept without hurting her pride would be if someone else grabbed you up without you having anything to say about it."

Paris snorted a laugh, slumping down where he sat, the blue eyes weary. "Leaving aside the fact that I outrank everyone on the ship except the captain, Tuvok and you, and none of you would abuse your rank that way even if you were interested, which you aren't, I can't really see that happening. Or do I really strike you as the submissive type?"

Chakotay stared at him for a long moment, seeming to weigh him. "I think you could be with the right person. Sometimes," he qualified, his wide smile breaking free.

Tom flushed again, his eyes falling to his lap. "Yeah, well, Tuvok's a Vulcan and married; the captain's the captain; and you..." He laughed bitterly.

"And I...?" Chakotay asked, turning to face Tom fully, dark brown eyes moving from the confused blue of Tom's to the parted lips and back again.

"You don't like me," Tom said, his breath catching in his throat at what he thought he saw in Chakotay's eyes.

"I _didn't_ like you," Chakotay corrected, leaning a fraction closer so each man could feel the heat of the other's body. "But today you made me realize that you're not the man I was remembering. And you are very attractive."

Tom swallowed hard, feeling his body respond to Chakotay's nearness and words. He could smell the man, and it was arousing responses in him that he hadn't felt in a long time, not since before Auckland. He searched Chakotay's eyes, seeking an indication of whether the passion he thought he felt rising between them was real. "I didn't think you noticed men," he said carefully, turning to face the huskier man fully.

"Oh, I notice. But like the captain, there's the issue of rank to consider." Chakotay shrugged as he leaned a little closer, his eyes fixed on Tom's tongue as it wetted those pink lips he'd never allowed himself to consciously think about before now.

"I guess you couldn't ignore that," Tom said, barely conscious of what he was saying as he watched Chakotay drawing nearer.

"Not for a one-time thing, no, but if I thought there was the potential for more..." Chakotay's words were spoken against Tom's lips, and as he finished, the first officer's tongue flicked gently over them, making the blond gasp. Taking advantage of Tom's parted lips, Chakotay's tongue swept inside, exploring the moist, heated depths.

Some moments later, Chakotay straightened away, both men panting for breath, their eyes opening to stare at one another.

"More?" Tom finally questioned, not certain he'd heard right.

Chakotay shrugged slightly. He'd never consciously thought about Paris as a lover before, but judging by his reactions tonight, his subconscious hadn't been as slow to notice Tom. "Anything's possible," he replied.

"I never used to think so," Tom said quietly, slowly smiling, "but maybe it is." This time he was the one to lean forward, and he pressed his lips to Chakotay's. When the strong arms wrapped around him, he followed their urging and shifted closer until he was kneeling straddling Chakotay's lap.

After a long kiss where he learned every nuance of flavor in Paris' mouth, Chakotay drew his head back, bronzed palms cupping Tom's much paler cheeks, and he searched the dazed blue eyes. "Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked huskily, his body hard and aching for Tom.

"I know I want to try," Tom answered, hoping that was enough. In all the time he'd pursued B'Elanna, chased the Delaney twins, suffered the pangs of unrequited 'love' for Kes, he'd never felt anything like this. He didn't know if it was more than lust, but he wanted the chance to find out.

Chakotay nodded, more pleased by the honesty of the reply than he would have been by any more dramatic statement. Neither of them could say yet where this would end up.

He smiled. But they would have fun finding out.

"In that case, perhaps we should move this to the bedroom," he suggested.

Tom nodded as he stood up, and Chakotay wasn't long in following suit. As he did, their bodies pressed together, rubbing as Chakotay rose to his full height. Their arms went around each other as they kissed again, trying to devour each other. Their progress toward the bed was in disjointed staggering, uniforms being tugged open as they went. Boots were flung aside while hands ran over bared chests and yanked pants down over hips. By the time they stumbled onto the bed, both were naked, finally nothing between them as they thrust together.

"Chakotay," Tom groaned, legs spreading so that the commander settled between them, his cock nestled alongside Tom's. The scent of sex filled the air, and Tom inhaled deeply, his cock jerking against his belly in reaction. "God, Chakotay, I want you."

"You're going to have me," Chakotay replied, rocking against him, both of them gasping at the friction on their erections. "Spirits, you're gorgeous," he breathed, taking in the pleasure on Tom's face, the dazed blue eyes, the tousled blond curls. Unable to resist and not even trying to, he seized Tom's mouth in another kiss, claiming it thoroughly.

Tom only moaned, arms and legs winding around Chakotay as he yielded to the possessive kiss. He felt surrounded by Chakotay's strength and heat, his eyes drawn to the contrast between Chakotay's bronzed flesh and his own fair skin. He usually preferred to be the more dominant partner with his lovers, but everything was different with Chakotay. The bigger man made him want nothing more than to spread his legs and be taken.

The lust between them was spiraling out of control, both of them wanting more and more. They rocked together, hands gliding over sweat-slicked bodies, mouths exploring whatever parts they could reach, licking the salt from each other's bodies and smelling their musk surround them.

"Fuck me, Chakotay," Tom groaned, aching to feel himself taken by the thick cock painting his belly with precome. "_Please_."

"I was planning to," Chakotay replied. He reached to the nightstand for the lubricant that had been lying in the drawer for longer than he cared to think about. He squeezed some into his palm so he could coat his fingers, and slid one easily along Tom's crevice until it nudged his tight opening, making Tom gasp and squirm. Chakotay pressed forward, his finger finally forcing its way past Tom's anus, and Chakotay drew in a sharp breath at the feeling.

"_Now_!" Tom growled, writhing eagerly on Chakotay's finger, fucking himself.

"Soon," Chakotay responded, knowing from Tom's tightness that it had been a while for the blond and he could easily hurt him. He ignored the sound of frustration Tom made, concentrating on stretching him until he could easily twist two fingers inside him. Chakotay knew that neither of them could wait much longer, so he knelt up between Tom's legs, his free hand coating his erection with more of the slick lotion. Then his fingers were gone, and Tom's sound of protest still echoed in the air when he pulled Tom's ass onto his lap and pressed into him in a long stroke.

Tom's cry was equal parts pain and pleasure, and his erection flagged slightly while his fingers bit into Chakotay's forearms. He panted, lower lip caught between his teeth as he rode the discomfort until it ebbed. Slowly he relaxed, hips shifting sensually as he urged Chakotay to move.

"Fucking gorgeous," Chakotay rasped, dark eyes intent on Tom's face. One hand curled around the blond's cock, stroking him back to complete hardness. Only then did Chakotay begin to move, his hands moving to settle on Tom's hips to pull him up to meet each thrust.

Tom moaned, his hands first clenching in the sheets, then moving to his own chest to pull and twist at his nipples. He'd known for a long time that a sharp edge only added to his pleasure.

"Spirits," Chakotay groaned, a bolt of pure lust stabbing through him at the sight of Tom playing with himself, and his next thrust was harder than he'd allowed himself so far. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, along with their moans of pleasure and Tom's demands for more.

They moved together, blue eyes and dark brown fixed together, never looking away, and suddenly Tom cried out as he came from being fucked, his untouched cock spurting semen over their bellies. His body tightened and rippled around Chakotay's erection, making the bigger man rasp a curse and lean over Tom, hands braced on either side of the blond head.

Chakotay's thrusts sped up, his hips snapping back and forth until he inhaled sharply and came, body shuddering with his release.

Tom lazily stroked Chakotay's back, watching and soothing him until Chakotay relaxed over him, both of them shifting until they were stretched out and comfortable. Tom lay in the curve of Chakotay's arm, not surprised to discover that the first officer was a snuggler. "You know," he said after a while, "if we're going to keep doing this, I will get you to stop being so damn quiet."

Chakotay laughed. "You're welcome to try."

***

"Are you sure about this, Chakotay?" Tom asked for at least the dozenth time. The two of them had been together for about a month now, and so far they had managed to keep anyone from guessing. Despite Tom's worries about B'Elanna, he and the half-Klingon had quickly discovered that they enjoyed each other's company, and a friendship had blossomed between them that had nothing to do with romance.

"Tom!" Chakotay's tone was redolent of amused exasperation and fondness. "We can't keep sneaking around _Voyager_. It was hard enough deflecting the rumors started by those two crewmen from the turbolift that first night. Besides, I don't want to; I'm not ashamed of you," he added more gently, knowing that was at the heart of the matter.

Tom flushed dully. "The crew will think less of you for getting involved with me," he said, revealing his real fear.

"I think you underestimate your crewmates, Tom. You've more than proven yourself since we've been stuck in the Delta Quadrant. Not to mention that it's nobody's business but our own. And I want us to go to the Christmas party together," Chakotay said. "I want everyone to know that you're mine."

Tom was still uneasy, but he couldn't deny that he wanted to stop hiding their relationship. Harry had been teasing him for weeks about where he was spending his free time, and he wanted to share his happiness with his friends, B'Elanna, Kes and Neelix as well as Harry. "Then I guess we're ready to go," Tom said, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders as they left Chakotay's quarters and headed toward the turbolift.

"Relax," Chakotay advised just as B'Elanna stepped out of her quarters and started down the corridor as well.

"Hold the 'lift," she called, quickening her step.

She stepped in and the doors slid closed as she eyed them both. "You look great. I hope you both saved me a dance."

"And you look beautiful," Chakotay replied with a smile as he took in the sight of her in her forest green silk dress and high heels, and Tom nodded as well. He could see the speculation in B'Elanna's eyes as she looked at them standing so close together, and after a moment's hesitation he interlinked his fingers with Chakotay's, holding his hand.

"You do look gorgeous, B'Elanna," he agreed. "We'll be lucky if we can get near you for a dance."

B'Elanna raised her eyes from their clasped hands, a slow smile curving her lips. "Good thing you are lucky then. It looks like you finally wished for the right thing, flyboy."

END

FANTASY

Buffy the Vampiure Slayer - Giles/Ethan

December 2
Title: To Auld Lang Syne
Author: Pesha
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Rupert “Ripper” Giles/Ethan Rayne
Summary: Ripper plays a power game with Ethan after a full-filling ritual session.
Disclaimer: LGJ owns all. I’m just a perv.
Feedback: Always welcome at shaunna256 @ yahoo.com
Beta: Looked over by Wolfsnc who slavers happily over anything I send her and Skitty who is the Buffyverse version of Astinus.
Warning: This contains blood play and a bit of violence, but that’s really just how they like it.
Note: This is part of the SAC-2004 located at http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm

Rupert Giles struggled to breathe normally. Through the haze of the summoning and the pot they’d smoked earlier, all he could do was wheeze as he was assailed by helpless fits of giggling. Ethan was rambling something about a werewolf who’d given him the best shag of his life. Phillip had taken Deidre home with the assistance of Randall and Thomas. Doubting Thomas. Giles giggled again.

“Best sodding shag of my life, Ripper! Simply took me! Didn’t even have the decency to wait until I was naked! He just ripped my trousers down and had at me!” Ethan babbled enthusiastically, gesticulating wildly as he paced around and around the sofa Rupert was collapsed on.

He tried to focus on something. Anything. All he could think about was the way that it had felt to have Ultimate Power. The power of a god. Focus came with a price.

“He?” the man called Ripper asked sharply. Ethan flinched, startled out of his incessant bout of confession by Ripper’s tone. Usually Ripper was just drugged loose and free by the possessions, but there had been times when he’d…gone wild.

“What?” Ethan asked, determined to play it off if it was going to cause Ripper to become unstable on him.

“Your werewolf was a man, Ethan?” Ripper asked with a vicious sort of smirk lurking around his usually dour mouth.

“What of it, Rupert?” Ethan tossed back. The ritual always left him reckless. Then again, Ethan Rayne was always reckless. They called him the Rainmaker because he always told the truth exactly when he should always lie.

Ripper -who was not Rupert at this point in time- grabbed Ethan’s scrawny wrist, dragging the other man down onto the low sofa with him. His eyes were dilated dark and wild, his breathing still ragged. Ripper breathed into Ethan’s ear, “Of it? Of what, Ethan? Of the fact that you’ve evidently hidden a need to be stripped bare and laid waste by anything rough and male and interested?”

As he felt Ethan shudder and twist in his grip, Ripper simply clung tighter, grinding the fine bones together to hear Ethan whine in pain.

“What game are you playing, Ripper?” Ethan demanded, holding himself rigid against the other man.

Ripper smiled his best canary-eating smile and flipped Ethan backwards against the cushions. Running his free hand across Ethan’s chest, he stated with great satisfaction, “Absolutely no game, Rainmaker. Not a one.”

“Then what in sodding Hell do you think you’re….” Ethan’s angry squirming stopped as soon as he noticed Ripper had finally fumbled his infamous switchblade from his jean’s pocket. Tight jeans, Ethan thought as his mind whirled with possibilities.

Rip you up, like that demon in Surrey. Cut you apart like so much turkey curry. Maybe the Ripper will even tear you up like one of those whores from London past.

Watching Ripper’s lean body stretch and grapple above him, Ethan’s whirling mind de-railed to chug merrily along much more….pleasant tracks.

Then the cold blade scraped a thin red line up his chest and Ethan stopped thinking at all.

“I think I might quite like you like this, Ethan. Quiet. No whining. No playacting. I must admit, had I known you would quiet down so beatifically under my knife, I would have saved us all from your nonsensical chatter ages ago.”

Ethan’s will to protest vanished with the appearance of his chest. Ripper had his hands -and his knife- on his body and he was helpless to stop him. Helpless. Ethan’s body went limp and pliant at just the thought of it; the reality would later stun him and set him shivering.

Ripper skimmed the knife across Ethan’s razor-sharp collarbones and giggled a bit madly at the sight of his redred blood. Leaning down, he blew on the wounds and sing-songed, “Cuts like a knife…but it feels so nice.”

“Ripper…” Ethan whispered as his throat threatened to close on him in fear…and arousal. Pinned beneath a high flying sociopath with a switchblade at his throat, Ethan Rayne struggled to comprehend his own perverse passions as he felt his cock twitch viciously in his own tight jeans.

The knife was immediately brought back up to his throat, blade cutting in deep enough to draw a red warning line in his own blood.

“You will not speak, Ethan, or you’ll find yourself drowning in a rainstorm of your own blood,” Ripper warned, licking at the thin cuts on those fragile seeming bones. So incongruous with the Ethan he knew. Ethan who was conniving and wicked and never hesitated to cause pain and humiliation.

Who was laughing now?

Ethan whimpered when Ripper spoke. He whined when the knife cut him again. He even screamed a bit when the blade slipped to the floor and Ripper’s hand came ‘round his throat to replace it.

But he moaned when Ripper sucked on his wounds. He moaned and cried out and maybe even panted like a whore. Ethan wasn’t certain really. He didn’t quite care either. All he knew was that he felt as if he’d been cut all over rather than in just a few scant places and he was covered with bloody suck marks from Ripper’s mouth.

And the knife was back.

The cold, impersonal steel sliced his jeans away from his thin legs, leaving him naked for Ripper’s eyes. Hard and naked and so very thin, Ethan hardly looked threatening now. Ripper’s hands curled around Ethan’s hip and he rubbed his thumb across the sharp curve of hipbone gently.

“Fragile,” Ripper muttered.

Ethan didn’t bother to say anything. He knew better now. Somehow this was far worse than anything that had ever happened to him. This…looking. Ripper had just…ripped away his coverings, laying him bare and defenseless. Ethan winced as he felt the gentle grip become a bruising vice.

“I like fragile things, Ethan. They break so beautifully.”

Ripper’s hand on his cock almost sent Ethan off the sofa. He surged up only to get knocked easily back down as Ripper’s nails scraped his erection from root to crown. Ethan groaned low and pained.

But he did not speak.

“Good boy, Ethan. So very good. I’ll teach you to hold your tongue yet.”

Ripper giggled at his own snide comment before the loud zip of his jeans announced the freedom of his own cock. Ethan had to admit a certain curiosity for the sight. His eyes opened cautiously and it was -strangely- not the sight of Ripper’s engorged, uncut cock that had him mesmerized but rather the sight of Ripper’s cherry red lips.

Red from sucking on his skin. Sucking at his blood. Ripper really wasn’t fighting his destiny too hard if this was the way he was behaving, Ethan the Rainmaker thought to himself, desperately trying not to think of the way that those lips would feel wrapped around his cock.

“No,” Ripper said simply, tugging roughly on Ethan’s erection to prove his point.

Ripper released Ethan’s stinging, twitching cock to lift Ethan’s painfully thin leg up over his shoulder, splaying his body out even more. Staring even more with his dark, slightly dangerous eyes.

Eyes that noticed everything, Ethan thought bitterly, hating the way that the truth cut both ways. Whoever said that it can’t rain all the time lied. It was always raining for Ethan. It just happened that he liked rain.

Ripper wasted no preamble. He just thrust right in. If Ethan had been a virgin, the rough move might have actually ripped him the way he’d considered it happening earlier. As it was, Ethan screamed loud and wild, but experienced only minimal damage.

Minimal was quite different from a non-objectionable standpoint of course.

Ripper’s hand was back on his cock again and he could feel Ripper’s wiry strength as his friend banged into him almost savagely. Lost in the power of….this?

Ethan wondered at it for a moment. Could this be enough for Ripper? Just this? Owning…him?

“Ethan. Ethan. Come for me, Ethan. Just for me,” Ripper chanted softly, almost a growl as he started angling in to find the sweet spot that would take this whole thing from tight-too-rough-stabbing into better-than-breathing in only instants.

Then, there it was.

Ripper hit his prostate at least a dozen round times, Ethan would swear. Even though the rough shag was actually more of a drunken tryst than a real tumble, Ripper would concede.

Ethan came with another scream and Ripper groaned his.

Collapsing onto Ethan’s shivering, realizing form, Ripper muttered, “Should old acquaintance be forgot…”

Ethan cautiously disentangled his hands from where they had been pinned this whole time and stroked down Ripper’s sweat-streaked back. He offered a shaky laugh and stated carefully, “I doubt there’ll ever be a day when you are never brought to mind, Ripper. Here’s to auld lang syne, eh?”

Ripper raised his head and a sardonic brow before agreeably pressing his lips to Ethan’s in a soft kiss. Pulling back, he whispered, “Yes, to auld lang syne.”

END

FANTASY

Smallville - Clark/Lex

Author:  Anna
Title:  Give In To Me
Date:  December 2, 2004
Fandom:  Smallville
Pairing:  Clark/Lex
Rating:  R -I guess.
Summary:  Clark gets Lex to tell him what hurts.
Disclaimer:  Not mine---That really sucks considering it's almost Christmas.
Feedback address: Zenabal@cs.com
Advertisement:  Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC.htm
Note:  I can't really think of anything except that I really don't like Lex's dad.
Beta:  Angelee.  All final mistakes are my own.

GIVE IN TO ME

CRASH!

Lex Luthor was in a bad mood.

CRASH!

Lex Luthor was in a really bad mood.

CRASH!

Lex Luthor was in full Luthor mode with no end in sight.  Any and all servants with common sense made a run for safety.  Even those that had no common sense knew to run out of the castle into the unrealistic safety of  Smallville.

CRASH!

"GOD DAM IT"

GOD DAM IT TO FUCKING HELL"

"DAMN, DAMN, GOD DAMN IT."

CRASH!

"Lex, what's going on? "  Clark asked in amazement as he looked at the broken glass that littered Lex's office.

"Nothing, Clark.  Please go away."  Lex answered as he stopped himself from throwing another glass at the wall.

"Something happened to make you so angry.  What was it?"  Clark asked with concern.  He had never seen Lex so angry.  His first instinct was to help no matter what may have been aimed at him.  In this case a brandy glass.

"Clark, please go away."  Lex told Clark as he turned to put the glass down.  He leaned into the bar table as if to collect himself.

"Lex. let me help you.  I'm your friend.  You know you can tell me anything. Right?"  Clark asked as he stepped closer to Lex.  Wanting to touch him, but knowing now was not the right time.

"I know that, Clark.  I just don't want to talk about it right now.  Please go home and I'll call you later."  Lex said not getting up from the bar table.

"I'm not going to leave you like this.  Let me help you."  Clark moved closer to Lex putting his hands on his shoulders.  Feeling Lex flinch, but leaving his hands on him any way.

"Clark, you need to go home. PLEASE.  I don't want you to see me like this."  Lex said as he started to tremble.

"NO!  I'm not leaving you.  You're going to let me help you whether you like it or not."  Clark said moving closer to Lex until they were chest to back.  Clark putting his arms around Lex to hold him close.

"Clark, don't do this.  You don't know what you're getting involved in.  It's not worth it...I'm not worth it."
Lex said as he tried to break Clark's hold on him.  "Please let me go and go home to your family."

"No.  I'm not letting you go until you tell me what's going on."  Clark told Lex tightening his hold around him.

"Clark, let me go."  Lex said as he struggle harder to get out of Clark's arms.

"NO."

"Clark...PLEASE.  I don't want my problems to taint you."  Lex said as he continued to struggle.

"Your problems won't taint me, Lex.  Don't you get it?"  Clark told Lex as he started a gentle rocking motion with his body.

"Get what?"

"I LOVE YOU!" 

"You what?"  A shocked Lex asked as he tried to turn to face Clark.

"I LOVE YOU and when you love someone you help them with their problems and pains no matter what."  Clark answered.  Not letting Lex go as he continued his rocking motion.

"You don't love me, Clark.  This is your demented way of getting me to tell you what happened.  That's all it is."  Lex said as he let his body relax into the gentle movements of Clark's body.

"No.  I really LOVE YOU and you're going to give in to me."  Clark said in a soft voice as he moved his hands up and down Lex's body stopping at his waist.

"Give in to you?"  Lex struggled to keep still.  Afraid if he moved Clark would stop touching him.

"Yup.  You're going to give in to me and tell me what happened."

"No, Clark.  Please let me go."

"Lex, I thought you were a smart man.  You should know by now, I'm not letting you go.  No matter what you tell me or what you do."

"What is this, Clark?  Your version of tough love."

"Yup. I love you and I'm a tough farmboy."

"Clark....." Lex smiled as he leaned back into Clark's body.

"Lex.....let me help you.  I'll make whatever it is better.  I PROMISE!"  Clark said as he moved his hands to Lex's hips.

"Clark...."  Lex gave a small gasp his his body began to respond to Clark's gentle movements.

"Lex, talk to me."

"Clark.....I can't.  It hurts to much."

"Maybe it won't hurt so much if you let me in."

"I don't like talking about my emotion, Clark.  You know that."  Lex said sadly.

"Lex, your feelings are important to me and I want to know what hurt you.  Tell me, PLEASE!"

*SIGH* from Lex.

"Lex...come on."

"Okay, Clark, okay. I......I called my Father this morning and asked him if we could spend Christmas together."

"What did he tell you?"  Clark's hands stopped their movement as Lex started talking.

"He told me that he couldn't because he was going to spend Christmas with his new girlfriend and her family."

"Oh, Lex.  I'm so sorry."

"I told him that I wanted us to be a family." Lex started to cry softly.

"Oh, Lex."

"He said.....he said he was going to start a new family and that I was no longer a factor in his new life."

"I'm so, so sorry."  Clark tightened his hold around Lex as he felt his tears fall on his arms.

"I went out on a limb when I told him how much I missed not spending the holidays with him and he tells me that I'm weak."

"Lex...it's going to be okay."  Clark said as he leaned into Lex's body and kissed behind his ear.

"How is it going to be okay, Clark?  My father hates me.  Do you know how much that hurts?"  Lex said as he wiped the tears from his face.

"I know it hurts, Lex."  Clark said as he turned Lex to face him.

"Clark....."

"Let me make it better."  Clark smiled gently at Lex.

"How are you going to make it better?"  Lex asked sadly

"Let me be your family."  Clark told him as he gave him a soft kiss,

"You want to be my family?"  Lex asked against Clark's lips with a small moan.

"Yup!  You do know that I share....  Right?"

"What?"  Lex asked as he moved his hands over Clark's back.

"I'll share my family with you.  My parents would love for you to be part of our family."  Clark said as he held Lex tighter against his body.

"Clark, your father hates me."

"No he doesn't, Lex.  Besides I told them that I loved you and wanted you to be included in all our family holidays."

"Wait, Clark.  You did WHAT?"  Lex said as he put his hands on Clark's chest to look up into his face.

"I LOVE YOU, LEX LUTHOR and my family knows it now."

"Oh, God."

"Lex?"

"What?"

"Will you spend  Christmas with me at the farm?"

"I will if you think your Father won't hurt me"

"Lex, my Dad is going to love you once he gets to know you better."  Clark said moving to kiss Lex once more.  Lex relaxing into the gentle touch.

"Lex?"  Clark said moving away slowly from Lex's mouth and licking at the tasted with a smile.

"Oh, God.....What?"  Lex asked as he tried to catch his breath.

"I love you."

"Heaven help me. I love you to."  Lex said trying to bring Clark into another kiss.

"You do?"

"If I'm willing to spend Christmas with your family and their big shotgun.....what does that tell you?"

"That you love me."

"Oh, God!  Yes!  More than you'll ever know."  Lex said as he move to nibble on Clark's lips.

"Lex?"

"What,  Clark?"  Lex sighed as he moved away from Clark's lips and leaned his forehead against his
shoulder.

"You know when I said that I'll share.....It doesn't meant that I'm going to share you.  You belong with me and I'll never let you go.  NEVER!"  Clark said as he moved his hands possessively over Lex's body.

"Hummm...Clark,  I love your version of tough love."

The end

MOVIEVERSE

Master and Commander - Aubrey/Maturin

Title: Away from Prying Eyes
Author: Farfalla the Butterfly-Kitten
Email: blueberrysnail (at) yahoo dot com
Website: http://cosmicduckling.com/fiddle
Fandom: Master and Commander
Date: December 2
Pairing: Jack Aubrey/Stephen Maturin
Rating: PG
Beta: Andrew S., to whom I am very grateful.
Summary: Jack and Stephen search the Galapagos for a place to snog
Written for the 2004 Slash Advent Calendar.

AWAY FROM PRYING EYES

"Here, Jack?" Dr. Maturin cast his eyes around the sloping boulders. "We'd be hidden well enough."

"Oh, no, it's much too rocky. How about further down along that way?" Captain Aubrey held out his arm, pointing across to a patch of sand hidden in the brush.

Maturin reluctantly tore his eyes from the dashing, windblown figure before him and followed the pointing finger. "What--down in the mud? There'll be no excuse for the condition of our garments when we return to the ship."

"Nonsense, Stephen! We'll just say I fell, and you tripped over me."

"Young Lord Blakeney won't believe that."

"So?" Aubrey began to walk towards the spot he'd selected. "He may be an inquisitive little fellow, but he's in your pocket, Stephen. He'll come to you if he has any questions, and thank God for that."

"You think I have all the answers?" Maturin, despite his preference against intimacy in places that might result in dirt invading one's personal regions, was following his captain and dearest friend over the rocks anyway.

"In this case, you have the right ones, the ones he needs to hear," Aubrey explained, "so that he does not grow up with the prejudices against the act of love as we perform it that so many of our countrymen believe."

"It is a foolish law," Maturin grumbled meekly. "Oop!" He had tripped over the rocks and was careening sideways.

Aubrey caught him, of course, and was reluctant to let go. Instead, his arms tightened around the doctor possessively. In a soft, tender voice, he joked, "I thought you were supposed to be the one who's more comfortable on land."

"I'm fine," Maturin protested calmly. "I was only distracted."

"Distracted?" Aubrey turned his head from side to side in a mock search. "Why, dear Stephen, I see nothing here that could be of interest to you--no tortoises, no iguanas, not even a beetle. Whatever were you looking at?"

"A fine specimen of... male Homo sapiens."

Aubrey leaned in and kissed him. His mouth was rough and he tasted of salt, but it may well have been the caress of honey, so much did Dr. Maturin love him. He did like the roughness; Jack would not have been the same without his callused fingers and gruff voice. They were a product of all the other things that made him who he was. Maturin clung to him, rubbing his arms and shoulders as he kissed back heartily.

"Now, down in the sand before anyone sees us," Aubrey commanded. With the exuberance of schoolboys, they darted beyond the remainder of the rocks to the secluded patch of sand.

Maturin arranged himself as comfortably as he could upon the ground, and let Aubrey climb atop his body. He sighed as he felt Jack's weight bear in on him, and teased the back of Jack's neck underneath the tail of hair. "If you like, you can be on top, so your clothing won't get as dirty," Aubrey offered jovially.

"No, that's quite all right," Maturin gasped, quite in heaven. He wasn't moving out from underneath this delicious embrace for anything.

Aubrey began kissing him again, and he gave back with full ardor. Never mind that dear Jack was devouring his face with the inelegance of a hungry crewman at supper. Maturin held him close and savored the rare moment alone.

But then, through their passionate daze, the sensation crept up on them both that they were not alone at all. Aubrey froze instantly, and closed his eyes, praying to God that he was wrong. He could only hope that whichever crewman had stumbled upon the captain and doctor deep in a lover's tangle would be sympathetic enough to keep their secret. Even though their clothing had yet to be unfastened, His Majesty's Navy had rules forbidding such activities...

Stephen was chuckling. "Jack! Jack, look up. Will you not open your eyes? Whatever are you afraid of?"

"We have not been discovered?" Jack asked in an infinitesimal whisper.

"Well, that we have, Joy," Stephen said with a smirk, "but not by any who might have reason to care."

"What?" Jack opened his eyes. His mouth followed, stunned with the sight that greeted them.

Surrounding them were three giant land tortoises, lumbering about like boulders come to life. They circled the little patch of dirt, slowly investigating the newcomers. "Are they of any danger to us?" Aubrey asked.

"No, not at all; they are the most docile of creatures," Maturin answered distractedly. He was staring at the tortoises in rapt attention.

"Good! Then we can return to the pleasures of the afternoon." Aubrey began nuzzling Maturin's jawline.

Maturin managed to tear his attention from the tortoises. "Well, I suppose it's only natural that, after all the observations and measurements I've been taking on them, that they should be just as curious about us," he said, before his mouth found other employment.

//

Author's note: The ironic thing is that today, I have to hand in a statistics assignment in which the data set was all about land tortoises in the Galapagos. Weird! ^_^

END

BOOKS

Anita Blake - Jean Claude/Jason, Nathaniel/Asher

Author: belle shadow
Title: A Stripper/Vampire Christmas
Date: December 2, 2004
Fandom: The Anita Blake books by Laurell K. Hamilton
Pairing: Jean-Claude/Jason Nathaniel/Asher
Rating: NC-17
Summary: While Anita Blake is out of town, the vampires and their strippers celebrate the holiday.
Disclaimer: None of these beautiful men belong to me and I make no profit from my stories.
Feedback: niteshadow7@hotmail.com
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004: at http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Beta: darkangel121

A Stripper/Vampire Christmas

Far below The Circus of the Damned, was Jean-Claude’s home. Jean-Claude was a centuries old vampire. He was also ‘Master of the City’ of St. Louis. He had two great loves in his life. Anita Blake and Asher. Anita was a vampire executioner, animator and necromancer. Asher was a vampire older than Jean-Claude. The two vampires were night and day. Jean-Claude had curly blue-black hair that fell to his waist. Asher’s curls were long and gold. Not blonde, but the color of real gold. Both had blue eyes, Jean-Claude’s a dark blue, Asher’s a very light ‘Husky’ blue. Both men were so beautiful they could bring tears to your eyes.

It was Christmas Eve. The two men were sitting against the headboard of Jean Claude’s enormous bed. The rock walls of the room were decorated with black and white curtains. White carpet covered the floor. There were dark purple sheets on the bed. Jean-Claude knew the color would complement the men that would be sharing his room tonight. Anita was out of town, so her favorite wereleopard was staying at the Circus with his friend Jason. Jason was a werewolf and Jean-Claude’s pomme de sang (apple of blood). Jason shared blood with the vampire when he awoke in the afternoons. He was a willing donor and cared deeply for his master. Nathaniel was Anita’s pomme de sang. He shared sex with her. As her powers increased she gained the ardeur. If she didn’t release the ardeur with sex every few hours she could die. Therefore she had several boyfriends that helped her. Jean-Claude and Nathaniel were her favorites, although she was with Asher and Jason also.

Jean-Claude and Asher were waiting for Jason and Nathaniel to arrive. They were both strippers at Guilty Pleasures, one of the businesses owned by the Master of the City. Earlier the vampires had sent gifts to the two were-animals, gold totems of their animals. Tonight they would celebrate the holiday by sharing sex and blood. Everyone was looking forward to a night of pleasure. Asher was kissing Jean-Claude. Long slow kisses. They had been apart for many years and were now learning each other again. When Anita wasn’t around they made love for hours. Tonight they were expecting guests. They turned as the large door opened. The young men were still wearing their costumes from their show. Jason was about 5’3”, with big blue eyes. He had let his blonde hair grow back to shoulder length because Anita and Jean-Claude loved long hair. Nathaniel’s eyes were lavender; his hair fell almost to his ankles. It was a thick waterfall of maghony. Nathaniel was three inches taller than Jason, but Jason’s knee high boots had heels so they matched fantastically. Jason was dressed in dark blue. A mesh shirt left his arms and stomach bare. Leather pants molded his butt and legs. The pants had small cutouts up the sides. Nathaniel’s leather was green. A small thong covered the best parts. The rest of the outfit was just strips of leather. They wrapped around his legs and chest.

Asher lifted a remote and hit play. Soft music with lots of bass poured into the room. The two strippers looked at each other and smiled. They knew what these men wanted. They turned back to back. Their bodies started swaying to the music. They became the music. As the tempo increased they moved to face each other. Nathaniel ran his fingertips up Jason’s sides. He slowly lifted the shirt off of the compact body in front of him. When the shirt was gone he ran his fingers back down the werewolf’s chest. Slight scratches from his nails brought the nipples to stiff points. Jason pushed one leg between Nathaniel’s legs. They rubbed sensuously against each other. Their bodies kept moving to the music as Jason began to slowly unfasten the strips of leather covering Nathaniel’s body. They kissed softly and deeply as the pieces of green hit the floor. As the last piece fell, Nathaniel pulled on Jason’s pants. The Velcro came apart and Jason was left wearing a small strip of blue. As the music ended they turned towards the bed. Each man was covered with only a small leather thong and boots. In sync they moved to the bed. With a smooth grace they crawled to the vampires waiting for them.

Jean-Claude:

Jean-Claude watched as his wolf came to him. The blonde moved slowly, watching him with soft blue eyes. When he came to his feet, he started placing small kisses on them. Small licks followed. The vampire held his breath as Jason came to the top of his thighs. Jason leaned forward and they shared their first kiss of the night. The vampire had wanted to make love to Jason for a long time, but Anita did not share well with others. They would do nothing that would cause her to leave them. Now things were ok, and Jean-Claude planned on enjoying this very sexy man. Jason kissed down the pale chest until he came to the pink nipples. He gently bit them, then sucked slowly. The vampire had not fed yet, so they remained soft. Jason’s hands moved up and down Jean-Claude’s thighs. Jean-Claude pushed his fingers into Jason’s hair, holding his head to his chest. He pulled him up for another kiss. Jason untied the belt to the vampire’s robe. He eased the sides apart, so he could look at all of the beautiful body underneath him. Jean-Claude was not a small man, and even soft he was long and thick. Jason leaned down and licked the soft cock. When he reached the top, his tongue circled the head, and then he started down again. After a few slow wet trips up and down, he pulled it into his mouth. He sucked a few times, and then moved to the balls below. He pulled them into his mouth and rolled them gently. His fingers rubbed between Jean-Claude’s balls and anus. He moved to kiss Jean-Claude again. Jean-Claude rolled the smaller man under him. He swept the blonde hair back and kissed the side of Jason’s neck. His fangs slid into the offering before him. Blood flowed into his body. His cock became hard and grew bigger. He pushed against Jason’s leather covered cock. A small moan came from Jason’s mouth as the fangs slid out of his neck. Sweat covered the werewolf’s body. Jean-Claude removed the leather thong. He then brought a bottle of lube from beneath the pillow. He poured some onto his fingers. He licked and kissed the strong slim body that he loved. He captured Jason’s moans in his mouth, as his finger pushed into the tight hole. He was the only male lover Jason had ever had. Sharing blood had made the men care a great deal for each other, until sex became something they both wanted. He added another finger and watched as Jason’s body pushed back against his hand. He scissored his fingers, stretching him slowly. He did not want to hurt his friend, because they were friends. Soon Jason was ready. Jean-Claude placed his cock between Jason’s sweet checks. He pushed until the head popped through the tight muscle. He slowly filled Jason’s body. Jason wrapped his legs around his master’s waist, as Jean-Claude began a special rhythm. A few short strokes, then a long fast stroke that hit Jason’s prostate ever time. His breath was coming in hard gasps. They stared into each other’s eyes as the vampire started going faster and faster. As the orgasm hit them, Jean-Claude bit Jason again. The sex and the bite were too much. Jason fell back on the bed and passed out. Jean-Claude laid down beside him and looked over at the other couple in his bed.

Asher:

Asher smiled as the wereleopard started up the bed. The lavender eyes sparkled with laughter and lust. All that red hair covered the perfect body like a large living blanket. The man moved like the predatory cat that lived within him. Asher loved Jean-Claude, but he had wanted this extraordinary young man from the moment he saw him. He couldn’t believe that Anita had slept with him for months before having sex with him. How could anyone resist. He was so beautiful. He was smaller than Asher, and was a submissive. That added to the attraction. Asher’s unlife had not been easy, and being dominant was a kink of his. Scarred by religious zealots, and shunned by others vampires, he had been alone for many years. Now he was part of a family again. He had waited months to get to know Nathaniel. The wereleopard had donated blood to Asher before, but this was their first time together. The attraction had grown between them and was close to becoming true love. Nathaniel didn’t stop at the feet. His body just slinked on up Asher’s body. When he reached the opening of Asher’s robe, he placed small kitten type licks on the skin. His eyes never left the vampire’s face. Asher ran his fingers over the perfect skin of Nathaniel’s shoulders. He pushed the boy down beside him. He untied his silk robe and removed the belt. He placed Nathaniel on his back and raised his arms over his head. Asher gently wrapped the belt around Nathaniel’s wrists and tied him to the headboard. Nathaniel had been abused for years and was into pain, but Asher did not want to really hurt him. He placed his fingers around the bound hands and lightly ran his nails down both arms. A small shiver ran through Nathaniel. As the hands ran down the smooth chest, fangs scrapped the tight nipples. Asher’s placed small cuts along the body with his teeth. He licked at the blood that rose from the skin. Moans filled the air. His tongue entered the small belly button. He moved it in and out, mimicking intercourse. More licks and bites brought him to the leather thong. His nails scraped up and down Nathaniel’s ribs. He ran his tongue underneath the edge of the leather. He pulled the legs up and placed the leather booted feet over his shoulders. His long tongue slid underneath the sides of the thong and traveled down. The fingers of one hand pulled the thin strip of leather to one side. Asher licked the tight pucker that was uncovered, then plunged his tongue into the hole. Nathaniel’s body was shaking with pleasure. The hole began to spasm around Asher’s tongue. Suddenly he turned his head and sank his fangs into the leg next to him. The moans and soft pleas filled his head as he drank the intoxicating blood. His cock filled and became hard. When he glanced up he could see the head of Nathaniel’s cock above the thong. It was too big to stay contained in the tiny piece of leather. When Asher finished he lowered the body back onto the bed. He took his fangs and bit through the sides of the thong. Nathaniel burst up into the air when the leather parted. His cock stood hard and proud. Asher deep throated him while his hand hunted the bottle of lube he knew was there. The bound man’s body bowed up from the bed as fangs scrapped up and down his sensitive skin. Two fingers plunged into his tight channel. Asher kept up a fast pace with the fingers and his mouth. The body below him was vibrating with passion. He removed his mouth long enough to say, “cum for me now”. Spurts of thick white liquid filled the vampire’s mouth. When he had consumed every delicious drop, he leaned over the trim muscular body. He kissed the open mouth at the same time he entered the lower mouth with one fast stroke. He reached above him and untied the belt. Nathaniel’s arms came around Asher’s neck and held on tight. Asher wrapped his hands in that thick silky hair as he filled his boy over and over. After several minutes he felt his body begin to tense and knew the end was near. He stopped kissing Nathaniel long enough to say “now”. As the wereleopard came again, his muscles sucked the orgasm from Asher’s body. Asher lay down on the relaxed body under him. He turned his head and licked the sweat from the smooth chest. Asher felt eyes upon him. He looked over and saw Jean-Claude watching him. A smile broke free and his light blue eyes sparkled.

Nathaniel and Jason:

Jason had been awake to watch part of the show beside him. He had known that the two men were attracted to each other. That was one of Jason’s many talents. Asher’s scars did not take away from his beauty and few could rival Nathaniel. Jason rolled over and Jean-Claude spooned behind him. Asher pushed himself up long enough for Nathaniel to move closer to the werewolf. Jason wrapped his arm around Nathaniel’s waist. Nathaniel placed an arm across Jason so he could touch both him and Jean-Claude. He was so happy right now. He had a deep hunger for the blonde man behind him. He also had a deep trust. Somehow he knew the vampire would never hurt him in a ‘bad’ way. Asher leaned over the two bodies and kissed Jean-Claude. There were still many hours left in the night and they would enjoy them all.

END

BOOKS

Harry Potter - Harry/Bill

Author: Starkindler
Title: A Holiday Surprise
Date: December 2
Fandom: Harry Potter/Books
Pairing: Bill Weasley/Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Bill and Harry have a surprise for Bill's parents, but they're not sure how Molly and Arthur are going to take it.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. They belong to JKR, Scholastic, WB, etc. I am making nothing from this, except for the happy feeling I get when I write.
Feedback address: nufaciel@yahoo.com
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Beta: Drusilla



Harry followed Bill through the throngs of people at the Cairo Portkey Station, holding onto the back of Bill's robes so that they did not lose one another. It was two days before Christmas, and it seemed that every witch and wizard in the world was coming through this particular station. Whether they were coming or going, Harry didn't know and he couldn't care less. All he wanted to do was get away before some harried traveller got a good look at his scar.

'Here we are,' he heard Bill say loudly over the dull roar of the crowd.

Harry looked up and saw that they were at Portkey terminal 182, destination London, England. 'Thank Merlin,' Harry muttered to himself as he let go of Bill, grateful to be one step closer to getting back home.

They stood in line for what seemed like an interminable amount of time before finally getting to the old, harassed-looking wizard sitting behind a tall desk. 'Wizard passport, please,' the man said. Harry just smiled at the man's abruptness, for the sour look on the wizard's face reminded him just a bit of Professor Snape.

Harry watched as Bill's passport was checked for falsehoods and then returned. 'Portkey departs in twenty minutes, have a seat over there,' the wizard said, waving his hand carelessly to the right of him. 'Next.'

Bill smirked at Harry and stood off to the side while he went through the same thing. Harry was almost afraid that the wizard might say something when he saw his name, but the only thing he received was a raised eyebrow and the careless twenty-minute-departure-take-a-seat wave that Bill had received.

Harry and Bill found two seats close to a window and sat down. Harry stared at the other travellers for a few moments before finally turning to Bill. 'I'm afraid.'

'Don't be,' Bill said, taking Harry's hand into his. 'Nothing bad is going to happen, and I guarantee you that Mum and Dad will be happy for us. There's nothing of which you have to be afraid.'

Harry gave him a sardonic grin. 'Yes, there is. Her name is Molly Weasley. She still hasn't forgiven you for breaking off your engagement with Fleur. Now, you not only have to tell her you're bisexual, but you also have to tell her that you ended your relationship with Fleur because of me, and that you and I have been together for nearly a year. Yeah, she's going to take that well.'

Bill wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled him close. Sighing, Harry leant his head against his lover's shoulder. He knew people were probably staring, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to care. 'What if they're furious with us?'

'They won't be,' Bill assured him. 'You were not the cause of my doomed relationship with Fleur. It would have ended eventually, because while I was attracted to her and I did love her, I didn't love her nearly as much as she loved me. Yes, I was attracted to you while I was with her, but if it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else. I knew that if I could have feelings for someone else while I was with her, I was doing the wrong thing by marrying her.'

Harry sat up straight and let out a deep breath as he ran his fingers through his hair. 'I just hope that they see it that way.'

'They will. Besides, Fred, George, Ron, Hermione, and Charlie all know about us, and they've agreed to help us tell them. There's no way that my parents can survive that kind of assault, especially during the holidays, when the entire family is there.'

Harry nodded, but he still wasn't as certain as his lover seemed to be. 'I just wish Ginny would be able to help with this.'

'Yeah, I wish she could as well, but she doesn't remember that we're together,' Bill said, his voice a little sadder than it should be around the holidays.

Harry felt a small pang of regret for reminding Bill that his sister would never be as she once was. Harry could still remember how he and Ron found Ginny on one of the battle sites, during the last weeks of the war. She'd been hit with several unknown curses, and while she survived, both her memory and her ability to speak more than a few words at a time were damaged. But at least she was alive.

Both men sat the rest of the time in silence, until the sound of a voice under the Sonorus charm called out, 'Portkey to London, England, departing in two minutes. Travellers please come to the departure point.'

Harry grimaced as the bats- not butterflies, these were much bigger than that- started fluttering in his stomach again. On the other side of the Portkey, he knew that the Weasley family, nearly the entire Weasley family, would be waiting for them. They walked over to a bright red, rectangular piece of plastic, about one-and-a-half metres long and a half-metre wide, which was floating in the air about waist-high to Harry, and stood side by side.

The voice was heard again, 'Travellers, please grasp the Portkey firmly. The Portkey will activate in thirty seconds. Thank you.'

Harry grasped his piece as tightly as he could, and then he rested his head on Bill's shoulder again. He hated Portkeys, but it was too far to travel by Floo powder or Apparation. All too soon he felt the familiar tug of the Portkey in his stomach, and they were on their way.




As the Portkey reached its destination, and Harry and his fellow travellers removed themselves from the heap of bodies that was the result of their journey, Harry and Bill were drowned in a sea of red hair and freckles.

'Harry, dear, how wonderful it is to see you again,' Molly Weasley said, pulling him into a frightfully strong hug. 'We've missed you so much.'

Harry had to smile, despite the churning in his stomach. He was glad that he had decided to forego breakfast. If he had eaten, he might be sick right about now. 'Thank you, Mrs Weasley.'

'There, there, none of that, now,' Molly admonished. 'You are to call me Molly.'

'Oy, Mum, let us say hello,' Fred said. Harry grinned as Fred playfully elbowed his mother out of the way so that they were face to face. 'All right there, Harry?'

'Yeah,' Harry said, shaking Fred's hand. 'I'm glad to be back home, even if it's only for a few weeks.'

'All right there, Harry?' George said, shoving his brother aside and shaking Harry's hand so hard that it felt like it was going to fall off. 'How's curse-breaking going for you? You like it?'

'Will you two move so I can say hello?' complained Ron, working his way between the twins. Harry laughed as Ron made a face at them. 'He's my best friend, after all. Shove over.'

'Hello, Ron,' Harry said, giving his friend a big hug. He'd missed Ron and Hermione most of all. Harry hadn't seen them for nearly a year, since he and Bill had come to visit last Christmas, both to celebrate the holiday and to celebrate Harry's promotion from Apprentice Curse-breaker to Junior Curse-breaker.

Ron pulled away so that they were eye to eye and grinned. 'How are things going between you and- ?' he whispered, nudging his head toward Bill, who was talking with Molly and Arthur.

Harry grinned back. 'Quite well,' he said as he was engulfed in a hug so tight that he thought he might suffocate. 'Hello, Hermione,' he managed to choke out.

'Harry! It's so good to see you. We've missed you so much, and you haven't written us nearly enough,' she admonished, pulling back and giving Harry a stern glare, one that reminded him of Molly.

'Hermione, the middle of the London Portkey Station is not the place to start lecturing Harry on his inability to keep you properly updated with his life,' Bill said as he walked over, and Harry gave him a grateful smile. 'Once we get home, you can lecture him all you want.'

Harry glared at Bill, who merely shrugged and grinned at him. It was on the tip of his tongue to say something entirely inappropriate for where they were, but he was interrupted by a shy voice that said, 'Hello, Harry.'

Harry turned and smiled at Ginny Weasley, who smiled back at him and held out her arms. Harry couldn't help but pick the young woman up in his arms and swing her around as he held her tight. He set the giggling witch down and kissed her cheek. 'It's wonderful to see you again, Ginny,' he told her. Harry looked up to see Molly mouth "a good day", and he said to Ginny, 'How are you?'

'Fine,' Ginny replied happily. 'Mum has been t-t-teaching me to cook, and she's going to al-al- let me help with Chr-Chr- dinner.'

'I'm sure it will be a wonderful meal,' Harry said, linking his arm with hers. 'Why don't we go to the Burrow and have lunch? I didn't eat anything before the trip, and I'm starving.'

Ginny giggled and nodded, pulling Harry toward the Disapparation area. While they walked, Harry thought about how different Ginny was now, from the witch she once was. On a good day, such as today, she knew who everyone was, and was talking a great deal better than usual, but on a bad day, the family was lucky if she could recognize her mother or get a word out properly.

Harry hoped that eventually St Mungo's would be able to cure her of the multitude of curses that raged in her body. Until they could figure out what each one was, they couldn't risk removing one, for fear of what it might do to the delicate balancing act in which the curses were involved. Harry just hoped that her "good day" would last until after Christmas.



An hour later, everyone was in the kitchen, sitting around the tables that the Weasleys had brought in for the holiday. Harry and Bill, and Charlie as well, spent a significant amount of time stuffing food into their faces, all three of them having missed Molly's cooking, before they spoke of themselves. Instead, they listened to the others talk about what had been happening in their part of the wizarding world.

Finally, after everyone was finished with lunch and was savouring Molly's famous triple chocolate cake with chocolate buttercream icing- it was disgustingly rich and decadent, and Harry enjoyed every bit of it- Fred asked the question that George had asked earlier. 'So, Harry, how are you enjoying Curse-breaking? Have you run into any horrible curses yet?'

Harry shook his head. 'Nothing too horrible, but there have been a few narrow misses. I'm really enjoying it, and I'm glad now that I didn't get into Advanced Potions. I was saved the agony of being taught by Snape for two more years, and I found a job that I think I enjoy more than I ever could have enjoyed being an Auror.'

Bill chimed in, and Harry was happy that he did, because he wanted to finish his cake, as Ron, Fred, and George were all eyeing it. 'We've actually found a new wizard tomb, about three kilometres southwest of King Tut's tomb. Harry found it while we were finishing the excavation of a site about 300 metres from it. We thought what we had been excavating was the tomb of a minor Healer, but it was part of a vast tomb system that included several Healers discussed on the tombs of many Pharaohs. It's going to explain a great deal about a piece of ancient wizarding culture, which was sketchy at best before the find.'

'That's wonderful news,' Arthur said. 'Today's Healers might find something of use, if any of their scrolls were preserved.'

Bill nodded. 'We've found a room full of scrolls. They're intact, but the Translators are taking great care with them, as all of them are protected by rare curses. Harry and I have managed to break the curses on several jars, but there are dozens left to do.'

'It sounds like an exciting time to be in that line of business,' Arthur commented.

'How are things in your department, Dad?' Bill asked, and while Arthur started talking about the latest Muggle-wizard mishaps, Harry helped Molly, Hermione, and Ron take the dirty dishes to the sink.

Before he could join the others, Molly pulled him aside. 'How has Bill been faring, really?' she asked.

'He's fine, Molly. Why do you ask?'

'Well, with this fiasco with Fleur, and him not seeing anyone, I thought he might be regretting his decision.'

'I don't think so, Molly,' Harry said, not quite comfortable with the hopeful gleam in her eye.

'Well, whatever is meant to be will be,' Molly said, waving her hand, as if dismissing the subject entirely. 'I have a surprise for Bill this Christmas, and I hope that it will cheer him right up.'

Harry's eyebrows raised in surprise. 'What is it?' he asked.

'Now, now, I can't tell you. No one but Arthur knows, and we vowed to tell no one. The surprise will be ready Christmas morning.'

Harry nodded. 'Very well. I'm going to talk with Hermione and Ron.'

'Oh, of course, dear,' Molly said, pushing him into the living room, where the others had gone. 'I know you have much catching up to do. Off with you, now.'

Harry walked into the living room, turning once to look at Molly's retreating back. He couldn't help but frown, but put his uneasiness out of his mind.



That night, after all had gone to sleep- Molly had wanted Bill to stay by himself for some reason, but Percy and Penelope's arrival put an end to that desire- Harry slipped into his lover's bed after removing his clothing and snuggled up to Bill as close as possible. 'Your mother has a surprise for you.'

'Does she? What is it?' Bill asked as he brushed back Harry's hair and placed a soft kiss against the lightning-bolt scar on Harry's forehead.

Harry shrugged. 'I don't know. She wouldn't tell me. She said it would be ready for you on Christmas morning. I do know, however, that she's under the impression that you regret your decision to end your relationship with Fleur.'

Bill rolled his eyes. 'My only regret is that I had to hurt her, but I will never regret ending things with her. After all, I have you.'

Harry smiled and pulled his lover's head down for a kiss. 'Go to sleep. I'm exhausted. I didn't get any sleep last night.'

'I know that. You were too worried about the trip and my parents,' Bill said as he settled next to Harry, his arm wrapped around Harry's waist and one leg thrown over his. 'Good night.'

'Night,' Harry said. A few moments later, he drifted off to sleep.


The next day passed as much as the first, and Bill and Harry still hadn't found the right time to tell Bill's parents about them. It didn't help that Molly was dropping hints about how Bill needed to settle down and start a family, to become a role model for his other brothers, which was something at which Percy bristled , as he was married and he and Penelope were going to have their first child in five months. They'd gone to bed that night, no nearer to telling Arthur and Molly than they were when they arrived.



Early Christmas morning, just as first light started to peek through the window of the room that they were in, Harry was awoken as teeth gently nipped at the shell of his ear, following the curve all the way up before moving down again. He didn't open his eyes, but he couldn't keep from smiling as his earlobe was sucked into his lover's mouth and the brilliant tongue housed there started teasing the little piece of flesh, swirling around the lobe and then flicking it.

Harry opened his eyes and turned so that he was facing Bill. Unfortunately, it meant that his ear was now bereft of attention, but the small kisses Bill pressed against his jaw line made up for it. 'Morning,' Harry murmured.

Bill made a face at Harry and pointed his wand. 'Morning breath,' Bill explained when Harry looked at him curiously. Harry opened his mouth and allowed his lover to use a Breath-freshening spell.

Harry pulled Bill's head down and kissed him, sliding his tongue between his lover's lips and coaxing Bill's tongue to follow his back into his own mouth. When they broke the kiss, Harry asked, 'Better?'

'Yes,' Bill murmured, settling between Harry's legs and leaning down for another kiss.

Harry moaned softly under his lover's tender assault, and brought his hands up to wind through Bill's long, red hair, legs wrapping around his lover's waist and pulling gently to bring him closer. When Bill pulled his head away and mouthed kisses down his neck, Harry said, 'I thought we were not going to have sex until we told your parents.'

Bill pushed the sheet down until it covered them only from the waist down. 'True,' Bill murmured, 'but I didn't count on it taking more than a day.' Bill flicked his tongue over Harry's taut nipple, and Harry's breath hitched. He looked down to see Bill staring at him. 'You have no idea how sexy you are,' the redhead murmured, and then he sucked Harry's nipple into his mouth and ran his tongue over and around it. All the while, his hands slid down Harry's body, running over his chest, down his side, over his hips, and across his thighs, then up again, kneading the flesh gently wherever his hands roamed.

Harry's eyes rolled back as he arched up into the sensual mouth, his hands reaching down to caress any part of his lover that he could reach. He loved it when Bill took the time to explore his body. It made him feel like he was the only thing that mattered to his lover. It was a stupid thought, one that he wouldn't dare utter to Bill, but to Harry, it was absolute.

'Is the door locked?' Harry asked, before things went any further and he lost all coherent thought. The last thing he wanted was for one of the others to come into the room and find Bill with his mouth wrapped around his prick.

'Yes, it is. I checked again before I woke you up,' Bill assured him between kisses trailed down Harry's chest and over his abdomen. Harry let out a breathy moan, his entire body tensed, singing with anticipation for what he knew was coming.

Harry's breath hitched, then shuddered as the first puffs of breath blew past the tip of his leaking erection. He tilted his hips up just a little, attempting to give his lover a hint without being pushy.

It seemed that Bill was going to have none of that, however, because he pushed Harry's hips down again and held them there. Harry bit back a whimper as small, barely-there kisses were rained down the left side of his shaft and up the right side, while the head was completely ignored. By the time Bill nipped at the base of his erection and slid his flattened tongue up the vein on the underside, Harry was a shivering heap, two seconds away from grovelling.

When Bill finally pulled the tip of Harry's prick into his mouth and gave it a little suction, Harry did start begging. 'Bill, please, please, I need you to- oh, yes!' Harry babbled, crying out softly as his prick was swallowed to the root. It took only a few bobbing movements and a swipe or two of that sinful tongue, and Harry was shooting down his lover's throat while he bit his bottom lip to keep from crying out. He didn't know whether there were Silencing charms on the room, and he tended to get vocal during sex.

Coherent thought finally oozed back into his brain, and he found that Bill was now laying next to him, his own erection in hand, stroking it with leisure. Harry reached for him, knowing what it was his lover wanted. 'Come here,' he said, pulling at the redhead. He moved his arms so that Bill could straddle his chest. When his lover was positioned, Harry wrapped his arms around Bill's hips, hands clenched around his arse, while Bill tilted forward and fed Harry his prick, hands going to rest on the top of the headboard.

Harry opened his mouth and readily took in as much of his lover's erection as he could manage in this position, sucking and licking as Bill slowly thrust in and out of his mouth, the tip of his prick rubbing against the roof of Harry's mouth with each sliding motion.

Harry kept his hands busy, the fingers of one breaching the crease of his lover's arse to massage at the puckered entrance, the fingers of the other hand sliding down to rub at the small button behind Bill's sacs.

Harry's breath quickened, in time with Bill's, as his lover sped his thrusts, coming closer to his climax. Finally, Bill thrust in one last time, almost savagely, and flooded Harry's mouth with his release. Harry eagerly drank down all of it, with the exception of the little dribble that slid down the left corner of his mouth.

Harry helped Bill slide back down to the bed, so that his body was covering Harry, and he held Bill until the shaking lessened and the blood rushed back into his lover's head.

Bill lifted his head and smiled down at Harry. 'Happy Christmas, Harry,' he whispered, leaning down to place a little peck on Harry's lips.

'Happy Christmas, Bill,' Harry replied, pulling Bill's head down so that he could give him a deep, sensual kiss, tongues exploring and the remnants of their releases mingling.

Harry was so caught up in this moment with Bill that he never heard the door open. 'Bill, I have a- Oh, dear Merlin!' Molly Weasley shrieked.

The two men jumped apart, both clambering for the bed sheet to cover themselves. Bill reached it first, and clutched it around his midriff, while Harry hid behind him. 'Mum, what are you doing in here so early?'

'I came to wake you for your surprise,' Molly said, glaring at them both as she stood just inside the doorway, hands on her hip and eyes blazing.

Harry's eyes grew wide as Molly's "surprise" came through the door. Fleur, obviously curious as to what all the commotion was, had come to the door. When she saw the two of them in bed, she grew pale, and her eyes filled with tears. As she rushed from the room, Harry flopped back on the bed and tried to smother himself with the pillow.

He heard Bill address his mother. 'Mum, will you please wait in the living room while Harry and I get dressed?'

Harry heard no answer, but he removed the pillow when the door slammed shut, and he looked at his lover. 'What a way to start Christmas day, hmm?'

Bill shook his head and got up, reaching for his jeans. 'Of all the things my mother had to do, it's bring over former girlfriend in an attempt to get us back together. Honestly, I don't know what goes through that woman's mind sometimes.'

Harry said nothing, but he got up as well and dressed quickly. When they both reached the living room, most of the Weasley family was there, including Arthur, but Fleur was nowhere to be found.

'Where did Fleur go?' Bill asked. He shot his mother a glare and sat down on the sofa, pulling Harry down next to him.

'She went home, the poor dear,' Molly said. 'It was quite a shock for her to see you in bed with another man. Really, Bill, how could you and Harry do such a thing, and in my own house? Why couldn't you conduct your little experiments in Egypt? How are you and Fleur ever going to get together again if you're dallying around with other men?'

Bill's right eye started to twitch just a little, which Harry knew was a sure sign that Bill was really angry, but trying to keep it under control. 'First of all, Mother, I do not know where you get this idea that anything further will happen between Fleur and myself, but I can guarantee you, it will not. I ended our relationship because she loved me much more than I loved her.'

'Yet, you loved her,' Molly pointed out smugly.

'Yes, but not enough to marry her,' Bill replied. 'If I had married her, I would have ended up miserable and resentful, and we would have divorced. I didn't just decide one day that I didn't like her anymore. I spent weeks agonizing over this, and it was the best thing in the long run. I'm sorry that she's hurt, and that she can't seem to let this go. I honestly thought she had, since I'd heard that she was dating another Gringotts employee.

'Secondly, Harry and I do not conduct experiments, nor are we dallying around. We've been together for almost a year. We got together when we went back to Egypt after last Christmas.'

'You mean to tell me that you threw away your relationship with Fleur for him?' Molly said, her voice rising with each word. 'You threw away a chance for a beautiful wife and a family for a fling with Harry?' She was nearly shrieking, and Harry and the others couldn't help but wince.

'You're not listening to a word I'm saying, are you? I was not in love with Fleur! I would have never been happy with her. I'm happy with Harry. He's my lover, my boyfriend, my significant other, whatever you want to call him, but he's mine, and I love him. I'm in love with him, and this isn't an insignificant relationship. He is my family, and when we're ready, I'm hoping that we'll be able to adopt, or find a surrogate mother, so that we can have children to raise. As to how we could do this under your roof, we had locked the door. I had forgotten about the charm you used to override the locks when we were children, but never once did I think that you would barge in on two full-grown adults when you saw that the door was locked. Harry and I were doing nothing for which we should be ashamed.'

Silence reigned for a few moments, but Harry couldn't care less what Molly might say next. He was too busy beaming at Bill, at Ron and Hermione, at everyone and no one at the same time. Harry just knew that there was probably the stupidest expression imaginable upon his face, but he didn't care. Bill had said that he was in love with him, that he wanted to have a family with him.

Of course, he and Bill had said "I love you" before, but it was mostly said in the bedroom, during moments of passion, or just as they were drifting off to sleep, but this was very different. It was Harry's best Christmas ever, as childish as it may sound, and he didn't care if Molly and Arthur denounced their relationship accepted them with open arms.

'What am I to say about that?' Molly finally said. 'You're a grown man, and you'll do what you want, no matter what I think. I think you're making a huge mistake, but you'll do as you see fit. Just don't expect to cry on my shoulder when Fleur doesn't want to take you back.'

Harry cringed as Bill's face turned bright red, and waited for the inevitable explosion. Bill may not anger easily, but he had the legendary Weasley temperament. He was just able to keep it under check better than most. 'I am not going to talk to you about Fleur any longer. I don't love her, I will never date her again, and that's that. I thought that you would be happy for me, because I was so happy. Everyone else is, and I don't see why you can't be as well, but if this is the way you're going to act about my relationship with Harry, then perhaps it would be best if we simply didn't come back. I will not sit here any longer and listen to you mourn a doomed relationship while my lover listens. Come on, Harry,' Bill said, standing up and stalking toward the room that they were sharing.

Harry stood, but he didn't leave. He turned to Molly and said, 'I hope you're happy with yourself. Not only have you alienated your eldest son and me, you may have alienated the rest of your family as well. Yes, Molly, they all know,' Harry told her, when she looked around as if suddenly hit with that realization. 'They've known for some time now, and they were going to be here for us, in case you didn't take it well. Bill honestly didn't think that they would need to help, because he never once thought that you and Arthur would decry a relationship between us.'

Harry laughed and shook his head. 'I had my reservations, because you've been so irritated with him because of Fleur. He, however, thought that you would be happy for us, because he was finally content with his life, and because it was with me he found that contentment. He thought you loved him enough to accept us, that you loved me as well.

'Think what you want about me, Molly, because I don't particularly care. I said nothing because, out of respect for a man that I love more than anyone, I didn't want to snap at you, but I will tell you now that I never want to hear or see you causing Bill pain again. He's hurt, as I'm sure you will see, once you remove the scales from your eyes. Neither he nor I deserved this horrific display you've just shown, especially on what is now one of the happiest Christmases of my life. Now if you will excuse me, I'm going to find Bill and see what it is he wants to do for the rest of the holiday.'

Harry walked out of the room, rolling his eyes as Fred and George burst out with an impromptu rendition of "Harry is our King". Those two would never really grow up, and Harry could only hope they stayed that way.

He found Bill just out of sight on the stairs. Harry smiled up at him as he ascended the stairs. He took Bill's hand and allowed the redhead to guide him into their room. When he closed the door, Harry found himself wrapped in a tight embrace.

'Thank you for what you said,' Bill whispered in his ear. 'I don't understand how it can be one of the happiest Christmases of your life, though. My mother showed great disrespect to the both of us, my father just sat by and let her, and there's a young woman out there somewhere feeling horrible.'

Harry leaned back and looked into his lover's eyes. 'True, but you, for the first time outside of our bedroom, said that you loved me, and you said it in front of everyone. You said that you want a family with me, which means you want to spend your life with me.'

'Of course I do,' Bill said, tilting his head to place a quick kiss on Harry's mouth. 'Did you think otherwise?'

'No, but it was nice to hear, to know that you really want me. I've spent much of my life being unwanted, and it's wonderful to hear that I'm wanted.'

'I will always want you in my life,' Bill murmured.

Harry let out a happy sigh and rested his head on his lover's shoulder. 'Are we really going to leave?' Harry asked.

Bill chuckled. 'No, we're not. My mother simply needed a shove in the right direction, and I think if we give her an hour or two, she'll finally get it.'

'I hope so. Otherwise, she may be getting an earful from various other people in the house,' Harry said, smiling to himself.

'Yeah, and I think she'll get over it all the sooner if she has to hear a few dozen verses of "Harry is our King." Until my mother decides to apologize, I think we should lie here, fully clothed, and entertain ourselves,' Bill said as he guided Harry to the bed and pushed him down.

Harry smiled and pulled Bill on top of him. 'I believe I like that idea.'



Two hours later, as Bill and Harry were lying in bed, talking about the scrolls they had to purge of curses, they heard a tap on the door. Bill and Harry sat up, though they didn't move from the bed. 'Come in,' Bill said.

Molly walked through the door, remorse plastered all over her face. 'May I speak with you two?'

'Of course, Mum,' Bill said, walking over to pull a chair up next to the bed so that she could sit down. Then he sat down next to Harry and they waited for her to begin.

'I want to apologize to both of you. My behaviour today was abominable, and I can only ask for your forgiveness. I was so certain that you and Fleur belonged together that anything other than what I thought was right, was the wrong thing for you. I never meant to imply that your relationship with a man was wrong, and I didn't mean any insult to you, Harry. I was so disappointed that my dreams for you weren't coming true, Bill, that I blinded myself to the fact that you had your own dreams, and that you had already found the love for which you'd been seeking. I had a long talk with the others, and I'm sorry that my behaviour during the past year has made it difficult for you two to confide in me. Can you ever forgive me?'

'Of course we can, Molly,' Harry said, smiling at her, and Bill nodded his agreement. Both men took one of Molly's hands in theirs. 'I know you only want what's best for Bill.'

'And for you, too, Harry,' Molly said, her eyes reflecting the smile on her lips. 'Breakfast is ready, if you two would like to join us, and then we're going to open the presents.'

'Sounds fun,' Harry said, pushing Bill off the bed so he could get up. Before they could leave the room, Molly stopped them and said, 'I want you two to be happy, and I want you to know that I am happy for you.'

Both men sandwiched her in a big hug, causing her to laugh out loud. Bill then kissed her cheek. 'Thank you, Mum.'

'Come when you're ready,' Molly said, her eyes a bit bright with tears. She left to give them a moment.

Bill gave Harry a bright smile, which he returned. 'I knew she'd come around,' Bill said, taking Harry into his arms.

'I'm glad she did,' Harry said as he rested his head on his lover's shoulder. 'I love you.'

Bill stepped back and cupped Harry's cheek in his palm. Then he leant in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss on Harry's lips. 'I love you.'

Smiling, Harry let Bill guide him out of the room and down the stairs to celebrate the holiday with their family.


The End

BOOKS

Harry Potter - Snape/Percy

Author: Josan
Title: The Old Meddler
Date: December 2, 2004
Fandom: Harry Potter/Books
Pairing: SS/PW
Rating: NC-17 for some of the revelations.
Summary: Sometimes people do know better.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling created them; I'm just borrowing.
Feedback address: jmann@pobox.mondenet.com
Beta: The Lady Mondegreen, who did a masterful job in spite of having it dropped on her at the last minute. Thank you, milady.
Note: This is part of SAC-2004 which can be found at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm

(:):):)

THE OLD MEDDLER

Chestnuts roasting by an open fire,
Jack Frost nipping at your nose...

Severus Snape snorted at the sounds that inundated the Muggle shopping
area. Merlin! If Jack Frost were really nipping at their noses, they would
have no bloody noses left!

His already notorious short temper was being strained to the maximum by
the never-ending sap that was assaulting his ears as he tried to accomplish
this mission for He-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed. Damn Dumbledore and his so-
called innocuous requests.

"My boy, I normally wouldn't ask, as I know that you aren't particularly keen
on traversing Muggle territory..."

Yes, the old bugger knew that and, yes, he was bloody well asking.

So here he was, eyes on the crowd of last-minute shoppers, trying to dodge
elbows and arms overly laden with bags of all sizes as he, Severus Snape,
Potions Master, former spy of the Order of the Phoenix, recipient of an actual
Order of Merlin, First bloody Class, was acting as errand boy for the wizard
who always knew how to pull his strings. You would have thought that with
the demise of Voldemort...

But no, Severus Snape was still far too susceptible to the machinations of
He-of-the-Twinkly-Eyes. Would his debt never be paid?

He bumped into some grandmotherly woman who looked as harried as he
felt. Before he had time to snap at her to watch where she was going, she
snarled, "Where the fuck yer going, arsehole!" and proceeded to use her
shoulder – rather effectively – to shove him out of her way.

His hand actually twitched in its need to reach for his wand.

Unfortunately, the fact that he had remained still in this flood of humanity
meant that he was now being bumped into and snarled at with a
demonstration of basic Anglo-Saxon that finally got him moving. He
managed to make his way to the edge of a building which allowed him at
least to catch his breath. Still, he had to flatten himself so as not to disrupt
the flow of traffic that penetrated even his little sanctuary.

Snape shut his eyes and wished he could only do the same to his ears. It
was December 24th, and Albus should have thought to warn him.

But, of course, if he had, Snape would have tried to find a way of getting out
of this assignment. Albus knew him far too well.

Snape took a deep breath, braced himself and opened his eyes. The onset
of a headache meant that he had to squint against the lights that illuminated
the area. The street sign posted on a near-by corner informed him that he
was at least in the right part of York. Scanning the numbers and names of
the stores – though tall, he had to rise on tip-toe to see over the various
headgear – he realised that he was in relatively close proximity to his
destination. Gathering his courage in two hands...

Hell, he had faced – and lived to survive! – an irrational, infuriated
Voldemort, who had had to confront the fact that his pet whipping boy was
in cahoots with Harry Potter when the Boy-Who-Lived had confronted him
with the truth of the prophecy and his death!

Snape forced himself back into the stream of anxious shoppers. Feeling like
a salmon making its way upstream, and with the same determination, he
finally attained his goal.

It was with a sigh of relief that he closed the door behind him, his ears still
thrumming with street sounds, barely hearing the tinkle of the bell
announcing to the proprietor of this particular establishment that he had a
customer.

An only customer, Snape realised, when the silence eventually made its way
past his popping eardrums.

The shop was not particularly big. There were two walls of shelving that
may have held something at one time: right now they were bare. Scattered
about on the centred display unit were three solitary boxes of varying sizes
and a limp, forlorn Polichinelle.

Said clown raising its head in anticipation was a clear indication that this was
a magical shop in the midst of a Muggle community. When Snape ignored it,
the toy scowled and went back to drooping.

What the hell did Albus want from this place?

"I'm sorry," came a voice from the curtain that separated the shop front
from whatever there was in the back. "As you can see, pretty much
everything has been sold."

The curtain parted and someone stood in the archway. "Prof...Professor
Snape?"

Snape moved closer to the counter that stood in front of the archway. He
was in the light and had obviously been recognised, but the speaker was still
in the shadow of the curtain.

A man. Slim. Wearing a drab brown robe. Red-haired. Which probably
meant one of the Weasley tribe. Pale blue-grey eyes. Bearded.

Quickly running down the list of Weasleys, Snape had to concentrate on the
eyes before he found a name that fit. "Percy Weasley."

Weasley didn't move, didn't even acknowledge Snape's conclusion. He stood
still and silent, as though waiting for something.

Snape felt his face tighten at the sight of the one Weasley who had chosen
the wrong side. Oh, the man had seen the light, eventually, towards the
end. And had sent some information on. Nothing all that important.
Nothing that they hadn't already known from other sources. Just enough, it
would seem, to save his hide.

Snape took the opportunity to use his wand – the man caught himself from
stepping back – to transform the Muggle clothing he wore back to his own
comfortable wizard ones. Bloody Albus hadn't told him that this was a
wizard shop: he could have spared himself the trial of dealing with the hell of
the main street and just Apparated here. He would certainly be Apparating
back.

"I've come," Snape used the coldest of his voices, "at the behest of the
Minister for Magic."

Because, thank Merlin, the traitor Fudge was now in his proper place, a cell
in Azkaban. Which was where this one should also have been. Had been,
the last he'd heard of him. Well, it seemed that being a Weasley counted for
something in this new world of theirs.

"Yes." The voice was surprisingly calm. "The package is in the back. I'm
certain you will want to check the contents against the invoice in order to be
certain it is all there."

And with that, Weasley stepped aside, holding the curtain back, and waited
for Snape to move around the counter and go into the back of the shop.

The back was no wider than the shop, about half its size. Half of that was
obviously used for storage of some kind, even if right now there was nothing
on the shelves. But it was equally obvious that the other half was used as
living space. There was a small cot, neatly made, taking up a corner.
Taking up the other was a small counter with a smaller sink and a kettle
steaming away over an even smaller fire. There were a couple of shelves
above the counter, holding a few cups, plates, one bowl and cutlery on the
higher one; a bottle of milk and a partially used loaf of bread, and some near
empty jars on the lower.

"Loo's out the back."

Snape turned around to face the man who stood, arms by his side.

"People usually ask," he said, as he went over to the small table with its two
chairs that filled the remainder of the space on the living side. Weasley
pointed to the large open box that almost completely covered the top of the
table.

"The Minister's order." He picked up a scroll and handed it to Snape, whose
hand took it.

Snape glanced down as he unrolled the parchment stamped with the insignia
of the Minister's office. The handwriting was immediately recognisable. He'd
seen it often enough in his life.

"This is an order for bonbons and chocolate." Which he should have known,
considering the shop's name was "Sweet Thoughts".

"That's what the establishment sells."

At the inquiring scowl Snape sent his way, Weasley added. "It's a Wheezes
sideline."

Snape scoffed. "And what do they turn their eaters into this time?"

Because, after all, the products sold by "Wheezes: Jokes Extra-Ordinaires for
Everyone" did have a certain reputation.

"Nothing. These are exactly what they appear to be." At Snape's
incredulous scowl, Weasley explained, "It's to make m...Molly happy. It
seems to balance out that the wares the twins make and sell in their other
shops."

"Shops?"

Weasley nodded. "They're opening up a second in Diagon Alley in time for
New Year's."

So the Terrible Two were successful, were they? Well, no one had ever
doubted their intelligence. They'd even come up with a decent idea for use
in the War. Well, he had to be honest, more than a few, though he'd always
been reluctant to use anything they had devised.

Weasley glanced at the clock on the wall and turned to open the curtain.

"Where are you going?" snapped Snape.

The man stilled, his hand on the curtain. "It's closing time. I have to lock
up." He looked over his shoulder. "With your permission, sir?"

Snape nodded, a feeling of something like unease passing through him at
the tone and words. As he listened to the sounds coming from the front, he
took a second look around the small space.

The unease grew.

He wanted to shrug it off, but too many years of paying attention to his
responses demanded that he pay attention.

One of the things that had irritated him – and still did – about Weasleys was
how they managed to create a messy environment, no matter where they
went. The twins had been particularly bad – or good – at it. They would
appear in the well-ordered command room of the Order and properly
stacked scrolls would sudden scatter, neatly trimmed quills would begin
leaking and blobbing, and memos would fly into each other.

Bill and Charlie were neater when it came to work: in their lines, messiness
meant injury or death. But on their own time and in their own space, they
weren't much better than the twins. As for the two youngest...Ginny was
more organized, but Ron! And obligatory visits to the Burrow were always
painful for Snape.

But here was a space inhabited by a Weasley with absolutely nothing out of
place. Neat. Clean. Bare. Looking almost as though no one lived in it.

It bothered him. Even remembering how prim this Weasley had been as a
student, how his work had always been meticulous, detailed – usually overly
so!

Merlin, as a student, Percy Weasley had represented the best and the worst
of an organised mind. Everything in its place. With a strong dose of barely-
tolerable pomposity and moral superiority. Even Snape, who was fond of
order and detail, had found this Weasley difficult to endure.

"Is everything there?"

Snape looked up from the list he'd been staring at. He felt he had to say
something. "I shall never understand Albus's fascination with sherbet
lemons."

Weasley shrugged and went to sit on the chair facing Snape. He placed his
hands flat on the edge of the table.

Snape suddenly caught a flash of a memory, of his having to place his hands
flat on any table they had sat him at during interrogation at Azkaban. Even
though they always confiscated wands, they never trusted hands. Now that
he thought about it, he seemed to remember the last that he'd heard of this
Weasley was from a stern and cold Arthur who had, on being offered some
supposedly consoling comment from an Order member, indicated that Percy
Weasley, such as he was, was where he properly deserved to be.

Snape didn't think he'd meant the back room of a candy shop.

A couple of quick glances between list and box indicated that all required
was present. He rolled up the parchment and handed it to Weasley. "Is
there anything else?"

"No, that's all. May I close the parcel for you?"

At Snape's nod, Weasley slowly rose from the chair and went over to the
storage side of the room. There he returned with some contraption that
made Snape itch for his wand. So that he felt a little embarrassed when the
man used whatever it was to tape the box shut. With a flick of his wrist, the
tape tore against the mechanism and Weasley patted the ends down. Done,
he replaced the taping item back where he'd taken it from and went to stand
behind his chair.

Snape hadn't taken his eyes off the man as he'd worked and had finally
placed the unease. There was a deadness to the gestures. As though
Weasley were forcing himself to move from...beyond.

"How long have you been out?" he snarled, almost against his will. Why the
hell was he even asking? What the hell did it matter?

Weasley had to think about it. "About...six months."

"I suppose you'll be going to the Burrow when I leave?" Now why had he
asked that? Why was he asking this traitor anything?

He got his first emotional response. A laugh. Just one. Raw. Rough. Like
a rasp on marble.

"No." Weasley shook his head once. "No. You could say that I am ‘persona
non grata' among Weasleys."

Something made him push. "I would think that the mere fact that you are
here..."

Weasley only shook his head once more before dropping into his chair. His
head bowed over his hands and then he looked up. "Arthur won't allow it."

Arthur. Not father. And it had been Molly, not mum.

"Why won't he?" Why was he still here, asking these questions?

Weasley shrugged. "She cries all the time I'm there. M...Molly does. Arthur
says that she's spilt far too many tears over me. And he finds the sight of
me hard to endure. All Weasleys do."

"Yet you're working for the twins." Why didn't he just pick up the bloody
parcel and get out of here?

Instead, Snape pulled the second chair out and sat in it. Weasley's hands
immediately went flat on the tabletop. Six months out of Azkaban, Snape's
own hands would have done the same thing.

Weasley looked up and actually met his eyes. "There are other prisons than
Azkaban."

Hell, Snape knew that. Hogwarts had been his for twenty years.

"How did you get out of Azkaban?"

Weasley closed his eyes, a small, strange smile appeared on his lips. "Molly
cried. Seems she made herself ill with it. Ha...Harry Potter spoke for me at
my trial. Said I was not dangerous, just stupid. The Wizengamot agreed
with him."

Snape snorted. "I have to agree with the stupid. What ever made you go
over to Fudge in the first place, Weasley?"

The rare few times he had thought about it, Snape had always wondered
about that. Fudge was such an arse. Such an idiot. The only thing Weasley
had had in common with the former Minister for Magic was his pomposity.
Was that what had attracted the man to Fudge's camp?

Weasley tipped his head back, as though it were too heavy to hold upright.
His eyes were fixed on some spot on the ceiling that, when Snape glanced
up, turned out to be a water stain. So the roof leaked, did it?

A short sound came out of Weasley, yet it was one that set the chills to
moving up and down Snape's spine.

"I thought...Oh, Merlin, I was stupid, but I bought the story that Harry Potter
and Albus Dumbledore were fear-mongers. That there was no Voldemort.
That he had truly been eliminated. I didn't know that Fudge had been
bought by Lucius Malfoy. That most of the Minister's office were banking
Malfoy generosity."

"That is knowledge after the fact, Weasley," snapped Snape. "It doesn't
explain why you went to him in the first place."

Weasley's head came forward enough to tilt to one side. His eyes were filled
with disquieting laughter.

"I thought I was going to help my family. Rise in the ranks. Show the
wizarding world that not all Weasleys were merely into procreation. Working
in departments with no future prospects, like muggle artefacts. Into causing
mayhem, like the twins. Into taking careers that were suspect, like Bill
working for Gringotts, or mediocre, like Charlie and his dragons."

His voice had an edge of hysteria in it as he pronounced, "I, Percy Weasley,
was going to rise high in the bureaucracy of the Ministry and make the
Weasley name something worthy of respect and consideration, not the
laughing stock it was."

Weasley's eyes dropped to his hands. "Merlin," he whispered, "I was such a
fool!"

Snape winced at the disgust, the self-loathing in that last comment. But he
was also surprised to find that he understood.

Had he not been drawn to Voldemort for similar reasons? Wanting to be
important enough to garner someone's attention. Make a place for himself
in this world that had mocked him and nearly killed him.

"Such an idiot," continued Weasley. His laughter made the hair on Snape's
neck rise. "Willfully blind to what was so obvious to everyone else."

"Yet you changed path at the end."

"Too late." The voice dripped bitterness. "And, by then, Fudge trusted no
one. So the information I thought I was putting my neck on the line to get
was of no value to anyone. Not even me. If it hadn't been for my family's
relationship with Potter..."

Weasley controlled the emotions that were spilling from him. He sat up,
blinked several times as though reminding himself of where he was, and
finally rose to his feet.

"Tea. Would you like some tea? I was about to make a pot when you
arrived."

Snape nodded, his eyes never leaving the young man as he efficiently
warmed a pot and prepared the tea for steeping.

"I can't offer you anything else," murmured Weasley. "The cupboard is
bare."

"Haven't had time to go shopping?"

Weasley stilled. "No. The twins are late with my weekly provisions." The
smile he turned on Snape was bitter. "I work for them in exchange for room
and board. That is the understanding we have."

Snape said nothing. What was there to say? It was obvious from Weasley's
tone that it wasn't the first time provisions were late. He'd always sensed a
nastiness to the twins' experiments; it would seem that not only Hogwarts
students – and now their clientele – had encountered it.

"Can you use your magic..."

Snape was interrupted by another bark of harsh laughter than was more
worrying with each repetition.

"Are you banned from using your magic?"

Weasley brought two cups and the sugar bowl over to the table. With
careful gestures, he pulled his wand out and used it to draw the teapot and
milk bottle over. Immediately the room was filled with a cacophony of bells
and whistles. Weasley leaned towards Snape and, over the blaring noise,
shouted, "You'll have to turn that off. I can't."

Snape pulled out his wand and cast a silencing spell. The sudden silence
was almost as painful as the noise had been.

"The twins have a different sense of justice than the Wizengamot. They
don't like it when Molly cries. It's all right if they make her cry, but no else
should. Most especially me. They think it poetic justice that I, who derided
our father for being enthralled with muggle life, should be forced to live like
one."

Weasley sat and began pouring out the tea. "How do you take it, sir?"

"As is," said Snape. Weasley's calm acceptance of the situation bothered
him again. The man was too calm. "Why do you stay here?'

Weasley handed him the cup. "Where else could I go?"

"Would you prefer Azkaban?"

Weasley paused in his pouring. He thought as he fixed his tea with milk and
sugar. The fact that he was actually thinking about it made Snape frown.
Bloody hell! When he had been offered Dumbledore's deal, he hadn't had to
think on it; he had grabbed it with both hands. Anything was better than
Azkaban.

But the fact that Weasley here was considering his question...

"No. I suppose not."

Suppose not! Snape placed his cup on the table. He had another round of
those chills. He glanced once more around the room and wondered at the
sterility of small living section. And then he saw it: up on the shelf. Where
the milk bottle had been. A small vial. Unlabeled. Its contents colourless.
Snape squinted at it. He had no trouble recognising the vial; it had the same
form of the ones he had once used at Hogwarts, until the maker had
changed the shape for something a little fancier and therefore more
expensive.

So the potion was not new.

As to the contents, what would he have had the N.E.W.T.s-level students do
the year Weasley had been one of them? That was colourless?

Oh, fuck! They'd been making poisons that year.

Snape covered his thinking with another sip of tea. Weasley was just sitting
there, not aware that Snape had seen what he had. Or maybe just not
caring.

"Were you raped in Azkaban?" Ah, the shock of that had at least got that
head up again. "Do the twins know..."

Weasley laughed and Snape winced as he waited for the bark to fade. Then
there was a sigh and Weasley merely shook his head.

"Technically, it wasn't rape."

Snape snorted. "Technically, in Azkaban, it is never rape."

Weasley squinted at him, seemingly surprised. That last was obvious in his
voice when he said, as though to himself, "Oh, that's right. I had forgotten.
You spent some time in Azkaban yourself."

Snape nodded.

"Was..."

"Was what?" Snape wondered.

Weasley stared into his cup. "Was Mutton there when you were?"

Snape could feel his breath catch. Mutton. His body began aching in places
that hadn't since he'd been rescued by Dumbledore.

"Yes. He was a new intake."

Weasley nodded. "He's head guard now."

"So, technically, not rape. How did he technically not rape you?"

Weasley set the cup on the table and rubbed his face with the heels of his
hands. "After interrogation..."

"Auror interrogation?" Snape knew what was coming. His sphincter clinched
in memory.

Weasley nodded. "He used to have me lean over a table...and..."

"And verify that you hadn't snuck anything contraband into your rectum."

Weasley almost smiled. "With his hand."

Snape nodded. "Technically not rape. Are you queer?"

Another little shock. And, this time, wariness. "Does it matter? Or are you
one of those who thinks that queers deserve a hand shoved dry into their
arse?"

"Is that what the twins would think? Is that why you haven't mentioned it?
Your father might..."

Weasley stood up so suddenly that Snape reached for his wand. After a
moment in which neither man moved, not even to take a breath, Weasley
took his cup over to the small sink and cleaned it.

"If the twins ever found out," Weasley spoke to the cup in his hands.

"They would make your life an every greater misery," Snape finished off.

"I think I fear more that my...father would say it was what I deserved."
Weasley looked over his shoulder. "The fact that the twins share their
women is far more acceptable than a queer son." There was that smile
again. "You, of all people, must know that."

Snape didn't deny his queerness. He had long ago accepted that wizardry
society would tolerate a teacher who had been a Death Eater, but not one
who favoured men in his bed.

"Is that why the vial?"

This time Weasley's smile was real. "I should have known that you'd identify
it as soon as you set eyes on it."

"I ordered them all destroyed after the course."

Weasley shrugged. "One of my rare disregards for the rules. The Burrow
has wormwood and I was going to use it to deal with the problem."

"You were there long enough after you left Hogwarts to do so."

Weasley's smile was sad. "I wanted to surprise Molly. Besides, I intended to
do it when no one was around. You made me very aware of its potential
danger. I wanted to make sure there could be no accidents. Unfortunately,
an empty Burrow is a rare one. I took it with me when I left, out of fear that
it would get into the twins' hands."

Snape grimaced in horror at that idea.

"I forgot I had it until I was permitted to go through my things. The Aurors
had cleaned out my bedsit for me and, for some reason, hadn't noticed what
it was."

Snape smirked. "Yes, indeed. After all, why would someone keep a vial of
extremely potent poison around?"

Weasley nodded. "Especially someone like me. Big mistake on their part."

Snape snorted. "Some of them couldn't find their prick if it didn't stand up
and demand notice every once in a while."

Weasley blinked and then laughed. Not one of those barks, but a soft
chuckle that made Snape want to smile in agreement with Weasley's delight.

He waited until the man was still again. "Don't do it."

Weasley only cocked his head. "Why not?"

Snape looked at his hands, the fingers stained from years of brewing
potions. "Things do get better."

"You'll have to excuse me when I say I doubt that."

Snape looked up. "I've been where you are. If I had taken the potion I had
prepared..."

"You wouldn't have spent all those years teaching people who hated you and
whom you could barely tolerate."

Snape nodded. "True. But here I am now. F