December 14

CRIME:

Sentinel/Stargate SG-1 X-over - Daniel/Jack/Jim/Blair

Author: belle shadow
Title: A Foursome Frolic
Date: Dec 14, 2004
Fandom: Sentinel/SG1
Pairing: Jim/Blair/Jack/Daniel
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The four guys take a Christmas vacation.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters of the Sentinel or SG1. I make no money and they don’t get to have fun.
Feedback address: niteshadow7@hotmail.com
Advertisment: part of SAC-2004: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Note: No real timeline. Just Christmas
Beta: darkangel121

A FOURSOME FROLIC

Jim and Jack slowly made their way down the trail. It was cold and dry in the mountain air. The two men had decided to take a hike after a large lunch. They had managed to get away for a little vacation at Christmas. When a walk was suggested their two little warm blooded mates had said a quick ‘No’ and ‘Hell No!’. They had left the two men talking about some ancient pyramid in South America. The military men enjoyed the cold and needed the exercise. Now they were ready for a warmer kind of exercise and hoped Blair and Daniel would be in the mood to help.

As they neared the cabin, Jack saw Jim do that little head turning, listening thing he did. Jim’s abilities were never discussed, just like Jack and Daniel’s disappearing acts were never mentioned. The four knew how to keep secrets. “What do you hear? Have they stopped talking shop yet?”

“Oh yeah. Seems like our boys have started without us. Let’s go help ‘em out.” The two older men grinned at each other and hurried on to join the fun.

When they entered the warm front room, they could hear the begging and pleading coming from the bedroom. Blair must be driving Daniel crazy. When the two J’s looked through the door, they had quite a view. There was only one bed, but it was huge. Six people could have slept in it easily. Daniel was on his knees, butt in the air. Blair’s face was buried between the perfect cheeks, his tongue working Daniel’s hole. He was giving him a ‘Blair Special’. Blair loved rimming and he was very good at it. His tongue was slightly long and he could bring it to a nice point. First he ran it around the outside, until you started begging for more. Then he would start sliding it inside a little at a time; slowly, slowly driving you nuts. He would push it in a far as possible and move it around lapping at your insides. It made every nerve in you tingle. Then he would start all over again. Jim had cum many times just from one of Blair’s rim jobs.

Daniel’s hands were clenched in the sheets. “God, Blair. Don’t stop, don’t stop. More, now. Fuck me Blair. Why can’t you do that and fuck me at the same time? There has to be a way!”

Blair gave a little chuckle. He loved rimming. It gave you so much power. He had always been the short guy, the little guy. With a few flicks of his tongue he had the big guys crying out for him. The moans of pleasure made him extra hard. He loved knowing he was making the men he cared for feel so good. He kept up the tongue work, glancing to the side. Jim and Jack were stripping while they watched the show. Jim and Blair had been a couple for three years now, Jack and Daniel only a little less than that. When they ran into each other on a case last year, they had a pleasant surprise. Jim and Jack had had a short fling during a week layover while Jim was still in the Rangers. Blair and Daniel had been lovers off and on for several years before Blair met Jim. The two had been out of touch for the last few years. Now they enjoyed a foursome when they could meet somewhere. They all knew that Jim and Blair were together for always, and Jack and Daniel were the same way. With that knowledge, they could enjoy an occasional sex marathon without jealousy. They all cared for each other, but were definitely two couples.

Blair reached over to get the lube. He pushed a thumb in Daniel’s asshole. He continued to lick over the pucker, sliding his tongue in beside his thumb. Soon he had two of his fingers in there, stretching and rubbing the sides of the passage. He saw Daniel looking to the side while he moved back against Blair’s fingers. Blair turned to look also. Jack and Jim were kissing like they were the last two men on earth. Their hands were wrapped around each other’s dicks, slowly moving up and down. Soon they were rubbing against each other. Jack fell to his knees and he started sucking Jim. Jack’s finger entered Jim and started massaging his prostate. Jim’s head fell back and his fingers rubbed over the short hair.

Blair pulled his fingers out of Daniel, and rolled him over onto his back. He rammed his cock inside of his friend. Daniel howled. That got the older men’s attention. Jack pulled off of Jim’s cock. He crawled to the bed and climbed up behind Blair. Jim moved over top of Daniel. He leaned forward and deep throated his lover. His dick hung over Daniel’s mouth. He lowered his body until he was gliding in and out of that hot hole. The suction had him moaning in seconds. Mr. Jackson was a talented man.

Jack grabbed the lube and began stretching Blair. He was still loose from the morning wake-up sex. Soon he was buried in Blair’s ass, and they had a fast rhythm going. Blair moved back and forth between the super tight ass of Daniel and the fullness of Jack’s cock. Jack was a big man and Blair loved it. Blair was hitting Daniel’s prostate with every stroke. Jack was doing the same to the smaller man. Daniel could feel an orgasm building in his balls, especially when Blair starting cupping them in his hand. Daniel had been holding on to Jim’s butt with both hands. Now he took a dry finger and pushed into Jim’s hole. Jim screamed around Daniel’s dick, and came. The vibrations from the scream pushed Daniel over the edge. His ass muscles squeezed Blair as he came. The spasms set Blair off, and his nice tight hole did the same to Jack. Four happy homos fell across the bed. Stupid, smirky, sated smiles decorated their faces. They lay still, resting up for the next go round.

END

SCIENCE FICTION

CSI - Gil/Nick

Title: Home for Christmas
Author: CSI Las Vegas
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Feedback: bev_crusher1971@yahoo.de
Status: Complete
Rating: PG-13
Category: ER, romance
Warning: None
Spoilers: none
Date: 12/06/04
Archive: Written as part of the Slash Advent Calendar 2004 at http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm. This story is  embargoed for other archives until December 30th 2004 – please ask permission first.
Disclaimer: Me nothing, CBS all. I hope they have as much fun with the guys as I have.
Author's Notes: This is fluff, romantic. Nothing tragic happens, it’s just about two people in love. Sappy…
Summary: Nick is going to spent Christams with his parents, as usual. And Gil?

HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

Part 1: Wednesday, 12/22/04

He awoke slowly, lying still for a few more moments, just enjoying the silence, the peace that surrounded him.

Then he felt the soft breath in his neck, and smiled lovingly.

Gil.

Carefully, so as not to wake his sleeping lover, Nick turned around.

Gil Grissom looked so much younger in sleep. All the worry-lines around his eyes seem to vanish, leaving behind a picture of vulnerabilty that touched Nick deeply. And every morning that he woke up together with this extraordinary man, he felt a happiness inside him, so deep and so profound that he wondered if this would ever change. Hoping that it wouldn’t - not now, not ever.

His smile deepend when he thought of the next days. Christmas was almost knocking on the door, and this year would be the first to spend with Gil, though they would be apart for a few days. He thougt about the last phone call of his parents. They had invited him to come to Texas, to spend the holidays with the family.

Just like always.

And he had been tempted to decline. It would have left his mother speechless. Speechless, because it had never happened before. But his sense of duty had won, and he had agreed to come. But still there was this little part of him, this little voice inside his head (sounding suspiciously like his favorite sister), that tried to convince him, to stay here. To stay with Gil, with the man he loved. It was their first Christmas together. Did he want to leave him alone? Like all the other years? He had watched him those past years, had watched the schedule, and he knew that Gil was always working on Christmas eve.

“I can almost hear you thinking.”

Nick’s attention snapped back to his lover, who wore nothing but a tender smile, his eyes still closed.

“Good morning, Gil.”

“Mmmorning, Nicky.”

With a almost purring sound, Gil leaned closer to kiss the younger man slowly. When they parted a few minuts later, Nick had no functioning braincell left, and was smiling a happy, goofy smile.

Gil laughed softly. Still it amazed him what power he had over that terrific young man. And vice versa.

And he felt another part of his body respond to the passionate kisses of his young lover. Moaning he pulled Nick closer, and deepened the kiss. They were both on down-time, and so they both could sleep in as long as they wanted.

So there was no need for them to hurry, and with that thought in mind, Gil let his hand slowly wander along Nick’s tempting body, making the younger man gasp slightly, followed by a deep moan.

“Oh god, Gil, yes.”

The older man smiled when he reached the straining erection of his lover, and began to stroke him in a rhythm that he knew would push his lover over the edge shortly.

Nick reached out blindly, while his hips jerked forward, into Gil’s tight grip. His hands came to rest on Gil’s shoulders, loosing himself in the sensation of being touched so intimately by those strong hands he had admired for so long from afar.

Shuddering and moaning he came after a few more strokes. Carefully, Gil removed Nick’s finger from shoulders, observing the little halfmoon-shaped imprints. Nick followed Gil’s look, and blushed furiosly.

“Oh god, Gil, I…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…I…meamph…”

Gil silenced him with a deep kiss, taking advantage from the fact that his lover had his mouth wide open. When he released him again, he whispered,

“Don’t care about that. Please…would you…bl…blow me?”

A brilliant smile appeared on Nick’s features. It had taken him some serious talking to convince Gil that could ask for everything. That he just had to name it, to say it.

Without any hesitation he dived under the bedcovers, and only seconds later Gil Grissom was seeing stars behind his closed eyes.

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

“So, when will you be leaving? And, more important, when will you be back?”

Nick stopped in midmotion, the fork with his scrambled eggs halfway to his mouth.

“Huh?”

Gil looked up from his bacon, and tried a casual smile.

Failing miserable.

Nick slowly dropped his hand, putting his fork back on his plate.

“Why should I leave?”

Grissom’s brows climbed a few steps higher.

“Christmas, Nicky. You always fly to Texas to see your family.”

“Oh…Christmas.”

“Yes, Nicky, Christmas. So, when is your flight leaving?”

“At 16.30 on friday. Why?”

Another innocent look from Gil.

“I could drive you to the airport. So you don’t have to leave your car there. How long will you stay? Just like always? Four days?”

Nick stared open-mouthed at his lover.

“How…why…I mean…”

Gil smiled.

“I’d be a bad supervisior if I wouldn’t know where my people are, don’t you think?”

Nick eyed him suspiciously. And Gil had the decency to blush slightly.

“And I’d be a bad lover if I wouldn’t have made those facts known to me, right?”

Nick felt a lump in his throat. Though Gil tried to take it pretty easy, Nick was able to read between the lines.

Gil would be alone. Would be lonely.

Like all the years before.

Could he make that? Could he celebrate with his family, knowing that the man he loved was sitting home alone? Watching TV?

“You’re thinking again too hard.”

Nick raised his head, gazing at his lover.

“Yeah, right. Sorry. I’ll be back on monday. 15.39.”

“I’ll be there. If you want me to…”

“Yes, I’d love for you to fetch me.”

Nick interrupted him quickly, and was rewarded with one of Gil’ special and rare smiles.

“Good. So that’s settled then.”

“Yeah, it’s settled.”

Suddenly his breakfast didn’t taste so good anymore.

Part 2: Friday, 12/24/04, 16.12

For more than twenty minutes they were now standing on the airport. Nick unwilling to go, and Gil unwilling to let go.

Though they had to be careful in public, they had their little signs to show each other their love.

A look, a word, and of course ASL. Nick had learned to sign shortly after falling for Gil. And when Gil had discovered that his lover knew how to sign, they had spent many nights practicing, and declaring their love for each other. Everybody at work could see them, and yet nobody knew.

Now they were standing in front of the Nick’s departure gate, and Gil swallowed hard. Why was it so hard to let him go? He would be back in a few days, so why was he unable to let him go? Finally, he pulled himself together, and grabbed Nick’s hands one last time, squeezing them tightly. Then he let go.

I love you, he signed.

I love you, too, Nick signed back.

Then, not caring who would see them, he leaned forward and gave his lover a brief, gentle kiss.

“I’ll call you when I’m there, okay?”

Gil nodded, trying to work some words past the lumo in his throat. When he found himself unable to do that, he went back to signing.

Do that. I will miss you.

Me, too.

Heaving a big sigh, Nick finally shouldered his bag, and turned his back to Gil, forcing his feet to his departure gate.

Gil’s shoulders slumped down, and slowly he made his way back to his car.

**********************************
“Have yourself a merry little christmas, make the jultide gay…”

Gil stood by the window, staring outside, listening to the meaningless words of the old chirstmas song. His right hand was holding a glass of Scotch, his left hand was unconsciously signing. Always the same. Four letters.

N – I – C – K

Again and again.

Finally he dropped his gaze, and caught his fingers forming the letters. He smiled sadly.

It was almost eight now. Surely Nick must have arrived now. He would come home to his family’s house, greet everyone, all his siblings, his parents. Maybe even some uncles, aunts, nieces, nephews and cousins.

Eventually his mother would have something to drink ready for him, for the ‘lost son’. The only one, who’d moved so far away.

Did they know about him? Know about his love to an old man?

What if something would happen to him? Would he ever be informed? Would someone tell him?

Gil had a slip of paper with Nick’s number in his wallet, just in case…what about Nick?

He shook his head vigorosly. Where did all those dark thoughts come from? Sighing, he turned around and poured himself another big shot of Scotch. He went to the kitchen to make a sandwich.

He ate it without hunger. Afterwards he cleaned the kitchen again, and returned to the living room.

Quarter past nine.

Maybe now he could dare to switch on the TV, without the danger of drowning in some sentimental movie.

Gil sat down, reaching for his remote when his phone rang. It sounded incredible loud in the quiet of his condo.

Nick, was his first thought. He picked it up.

“Grissom!”

“Gil? It’s me, Nick.”

“Nicky, where are you?”

He couldn’t help the joy in his voice.

“You’d never guess where I am.”

Nick voice sounded excited. Suddenly someone rang on Gil’s door.

“Wait, Nicky, there is someone at the door. Are you at your parents home already? Are you at home?”

Without really looking, Gil opened his front door.

And dropped his phone.

“Yes, I’m at home.”

Nick’s dark eyes were shining with love. He switched off his cell, stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and before Gil could react, he found himself in the strong embrace of his lover. Acting purely on instinct, Gil reciprocated the embrace.

“I couldn’t leave. I missed you the second I stepped on the plane. I missed you during the flight. I missed you the moment I arrived in Texas. So I took the first opportunity to fly back.”

“You’re here.”

Gil’s voice sounded incredulous. Nick’s grin grew impossible wider.

“Yes, I’m here. Merry Christmas, love.”

Closing his eyes, Gil deeply inhaled the unique scent of his lover, felt the steady heartbeat next to his, heard his soft breathing, and felt suddenly all of his tension drift away.

“Merry Christmas, Nicky.”

“Through the years we’ll always be together, if the fates allow. From now on our troubles will be out of sight.”

The end

SCIENCE FICTION

Stargate SG-1 - Sam/Janet

Title: Aftermath
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Feedback address: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Date: 12 December 2004
Fandom: Stargate SG-1 / SciFi
Pairing: Sam/Janet
Rating: PG13
Date Written: 8-9 December 2004
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Summary: Cassie reminisces on the aftermath
Spoilers: Post-“Heroes”
Warnings: Character death, depression, and all the usual angst that occurs with a character’s death.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognised characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Author’s Note, the first: I basically haven’t written anything Stargate-related since I first heard the horrible rumours about Janet’s demise almost 2 years ago. My muse was understandably traumatized, as I was. When rumour became fact, it was even harder. But because of my love for this wonderful character and the woman who portrays her, I’m giving the pairing another shot…and hoping that it’ll bring my muse back into the fold again. She’s been sorely, sorely missed.
Author’s Note, the second: The last episode of Stargate SG-1 that I saw was “Heroes, Part 2.” That said, this is extrapolation on what happened to the characters in the interim. Some of it I know to be happening, based on spoilers from other friends who are fans. Some of it I made up, because I could. Don’t like it? Deal. I don’t like the fact that the most incredible character on the show was killed off for nothing in a damned ratings ploy.
Beta: Lil, Neoma, & of course Shatterpath

“Aftermath”
by A. Magiluna Stormwriter

Dear Mom,

I can’t believe it’s Christmas already. It seems to come earlier and earlier every year, just like you’ve always said. The streets are filled with idiot drivers who just don’t have a damned clue about shopping on the Internet. Uncle Jack is right. The American consumer becomes an utter moron during the holidays. It wasn’t like this on Hanka, that’s for sure. Sorry, Mom, I know you don’t like me swearing like that.

God, but this is hard. I’m stuck here at school until Christmas Eve because of a stupid final. Mom, I really don’t want to be here right now. All I want to do is go home, be with Sam…and you.

But that’s not going to happen, is it? I’m stuck here at school. Sam’s off on some reckless endangerment mission. And you? Your body’s rotting away on some godforsaken planet, thanks to the Goa’uld. I wish the bastards were all dead. Every last one of them. They’ve done nothing but destroy my family. First Hanka. Now Earth. Don’t they have anyone that’s important to them? Family? Friends? Parents? Something? Don’t they understand loss?

But I suppose if they did, they wouldn’t be doing this. Or they just don’t give a damn.

I think the latter is probably more appropriate, don’t you?

But Mom? I really, really wish you were here. It’s not the same without you. Did you know my speech at graduation was about you? About your perseverance, your dedication, your strength, your love. You are my hero, Mom. You took me in, raised me as if I was your own flesh and blood. You never gave me special treatment or extreme punishments. Even if I grumbled at the time, you were always fair. And you took care of me, of all of us. You loved me, you loved us all, and it was apparent in everything you did for us.

It’s been really hard since you’ve been gone. General Hammond retired for real. They promoted Uncle Jack to General and he’s in charge of the base now. Scary, hunh? He’s even got Harriman as his assistant. You know, Chevron Guy? SG-1’s pretty much trashed. Teal’c’s been helping out Selmak and Bra’tac and all their friends. Uncle Daniel’s been busy in his lab, holed up with his translations when the team’s not out on some sort of diplomatic or first contact mission. He’s actually gotten really involved in trying to find the Furlings and discovering the secrets of the Ancients.

And then there’s Sam.

Where do I start, Mom? She’s been devastated since you’re gone. Doing a lot of ‘freelancing’ with other teams. SG-3 have practically adopted her as their ‘other’ team leader. And yeah, they’re impressed with her mind and her skills. But mainly? They’re trying to keep an eye on her and keep her safe. She’s been working herself so hard, Mom. She jumps at every suicide mission she can find. She doesn’t eat, she barely sleeps. She’s completely thrown herself into her work. Jacob can’t even stop her.

And she cries herself to sleep when exhaustion does finally claim her. And if she’s lucky, she’ll sleep for a couple of hours before the nightmares start. She always wakes up, screaming your name. She always relives your death, even if she won’t admit it. The only way she escapes the nightmares is if I happen to hear her and stroke her hair, murmuring that she’s safe and that you still love her and need her alive and safe.

You were the one thing she loved in this world more than science. Well, you and me. We were a family. You made sure we were both loved and appreciated. Jacob and Uncle Jack both told me that before you came into her life, she was too driven, too preoccupied with her work. You brought meaning to her life, a sense of belonging and completion. And the Goa’uld took that away. She’s a shell of what you fell in love with, of the person I idolized.

I’m scared, Mom. It’s like she’s trying to kill herself so she can join you.

I didn’t want to go off to college and leave her alone. She made me promise to go though, made me promise to get my degree. She blackmailed me, if you want the truth. It was blackmail worthy of even you. She said it’d make you proud if I got my degree. And I’ve always wanted to make you proud of me.

Okay, Mom, I think I should wrap up this letter.

Mom? Will you do something for me? Will you keep an eye on Sam? Wherever you are? She needs it, much more than I do.

I love you, Mom. And I’ll make sure your favorite angel is at the top of the tree again.

Cassie

END

SCIENCE FICTION

Stargate SG-1 - Daniel/Jack

Daniel's Christmas by Mary Willing Prey (Due to length the story has been given a separate page)

FANTASY

Smallville - Clark/Lex

Title - The Night Before Christmas
Author - Karen Colohan
Fandom - Smallville
Pairing - Clark/Lex
Rating - R
Feedback address: kcolohan@sidsplace.win-uk.net
Date of publication: December 14th 2004
Disclaimer - Not mine, I couldn't afford the motor and household insurance bills. I promise I'll scrub them down and give them back to DC comics, the WB and anyone else who does own a slice of them when I'm done with them.
Summary - Clark's Christmas Eve doesn't turn out the way he'd planned.
Beta: Barbara
Note: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar of 2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm

THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

Clark stood and looked out into the darkness from the barn loft. The night air was crisp and chill, but the cold didn't raise a shiver from his invulnerable skin. As he scanned the heavens he noticed a single bright star on the horizon. Watching the sky a little longer, Clark realised it was getting larger and larger in his vision. Hard on the heels of that realisation came another; it wasn't a star, rather it was a meteor and it was headed straight for the house.

Using his speed, Clark dashed down the stairs and out into the yard, but fast as he was, he was still too late. He skidded to a halt, throwing his hands up to shield his face in an instinctive gesture, as the meteor crashed to Earth. The force of its landing crushed the yellow farmhouse, sending jagged splinters of wreckage flying in all directions.

"Mom! Dad!" Clark forced himself into motion again, running towards the centre of the destruction. He tried to pull at a piece of debris, but suddenly there was a familiar, eerie green glow all around him. Keening helplessly, Clark was forced to stumble back, sick and weak.

As a little of his strength began to return, Clark turned and his mouth fell open as he saw his parents come into view. With a cry of relief he moved towards them with faltering steps, doing his best to skirt the kryptonite infected area. As he came closer, Clark's joy began to turn to confusion; neither of them so much as acknowledged his presence.

"Mom. Dad..." he called uncertainly.

Still his parents ignored him. Instead, they seemed to be looking at something on the ground. When he saw what it was, Clark's eyes widened in shock. It looked exactly like the pod he'd arrived in during the first meteor shower.

As Clark continued to watch, it slowly cracked open. His parents leaned over it as a small, dark haired boy crawled out. The child fell to his knees in the dirt then looked up. When he saw the people standing over him he lifted his arms towards Martha, a trusting smile spreading across his face.

Clark's heart was pounding in his chest. Did this mean that the message he'd been given was wrong? Was it possible that he wasn't alone after all? Clark held his breath, expecting his mother to lean down and pick the boy up. He almost choked when, instead, she pulled a lump of kryptonite out of her pocket and pressed it to the child's skin. His veins immediately began to darken and bulge until the boy cried out in pain and fear.

Rooted to the spot, Clark saw his mother turn to her husband. Her mouth twisted into an expression of disgust as she spat, "It's not even human."

"Leave it," Jonathan instructed, ignoring the whimpering figure huddled at his feet. "There's work to be done; the cows won't feed themselves."

With that, Clark's parents turned their backs and walked away.

Horrified, Clark finally forced his feet to move. He couldn't understand why his mother and father would reject this child and behave as if they didn't even see him. They also seemed totally unconcerned by the destruction of the house. None of it made any sense.

When Clark reached the pod the child was curled up against the side of it, naked and trembling. Clark reached out, resting his hand lightly on the boy's shoulder. He had to get him away from here, away from the effects of the kryptonite. As Clark tried to lift him, the small figure shrank away from him.

"Don't touch me!" the boy begged.

Clark stumbled back, confused. He knew that voice. When he looked down again it wasn't a child huddled fearfully in front of him. Instead, it was Lex lying at his feet. He was as naked as the boy had been, which gave Clark a perfect view of Lex's hand as it moved on his cock, stroking it until it was hard and leaking.

"Don't touch me," Lex repeated as he stroked himself to climax, come spilling over his hand and onto the pale skin of his belly. His eyes were cold as he met Clark's gaze, showing no pleasure in his orgasm, only a deep revulsion. "Look what you've done. I should never have let you touch me; you're not even human."

With that, Lex looked away from Clark, turning his attention back to his cock. He kept on jerking it roughly until it began to rise again, totally absorbed in his actions.

Horror choking him, Clark fell to his knees. With an effort he began to crawl away from Lex and the pod, trying to reach the sanctuary of the barn. The world had apparently gone mad and Clark didn't know what to do.

As the residual effects of the kryptonite lessened, Clark managed to get to his feet. The door to the barn was open and he quickly headed towards it. Clark came to an abrupt halt when he realised that someone was blocking his way. It was Lana, and behind her stood Chloe and Lois. Clark's heart sank as he took in the way that they were dressed and the cold distance in their eyes. This was how they'd looked when they'd been possessed, able to bind him with magic and steal his powers, but those spirits had been banished long ago. How could they have taken control again?

Lana raised her hand and a bolt of light crackled towards Clark. When it struck his chest, he found himself immobilised. Lana slowly walked towards him, her eyes dark and empty.

"We saw the sign," she said, raising her hand and pointing towards the destruction behind Clark. "We came to bring you gifts."

As he looked at the girls, Clark noticed that each of them held a small, intricately carved box. As one, they raised them then reached to open the lids. Inside each box was a large piece of kryptonite. Lana's contained green, Lois's red, while Chloe's box held black.

Nausea swept over Clark as Lana came closer to him. She looked at the glowing green rock and then up at Clark's face. The emptiness of her gaze was replaced by hate.

"You don't belong here, Kal-El; you never will. You will always be on the outside, looking in. No one will ever love you."

A viciously sharp nail pressed against his lips, digging in until the soft flesh gave way and blood spilled from the tear. It ran down Clark's chin, burning his skin as it fell. Lana drew her fingers through the slick trail. She frowned as she looked at her hand. She held it up in front of Clark's eyes and instead of red her fingertips were smeared with green.

"How could anyone love you?" she said cruelly. "You're not even human."

Turning on her heel, Lana walked away, Chloe and Lois close behind her. They entered the barn and suddenly Clark could hear the sound of music and laughter from inside. Not for the first time, it seemed he was host to an unexpected party. Clark tried to move, intending to follow them, but the light that Lana had directed at him still held Clark immobile. He struggled against the intangible bonds, but to no avail; they remained firm.

Clark felt a wave of terror building inside him. Was this what had happened to Lex when Lana had compelled him to keep playing the piano? Admittedly, he felt no compulsion to do anything, but he definitely couldn't break free. Clark tried to open his mouth, tried to scream for help, but nothing happened and no sound came out.
Close to panic, Clark found himself trapped, utterly helpless.

***

Strong hands pressed down on Clark's shoulders, holding him steady. His eyes flew open and the scream that had been locked in his throat finally broke free.

"Clark! Clark, calm down, it's okay. You're safe; everything's okay."

The words slid away from him as Clark tried to grasp onto them. Panting wildly, his limbs flailed as he discovered that he could move. Mastering coordination with an effort, Clark began to push himself upright. The hands that he had felt on him slipped away, allowing him to sit up. Looking around in confusion, Clark's eyes slowly registered his surroundings - a room, not the yard at the farm. Finally, his gaze fell on the figure hovering anxiously beside him.

"Lex?" Clark blinked, his brain still sending him conflicting images. The last time he'd seen Lex he'd been lying naked in the dirt... Shaking his head in an attempt to clear it, Clark managed to take in the fact that Lex was in fact fully dressed. "Where am I?"

"You're at the mansion." Lex reached out, resting his palm briefly on Clark's forehead. "You said that you weren't feeling well and you asked me to bring you here. You didn't want to worry your mother while she was working and you told me your dad was spending the evening with one of your neighbours so there wouldn't be anyone at the farm."

"The mansion..." Clark's voice wavered. He didn't remember any of what Lex was telling him. His thoughts were still full of meteors crashing, another pod landing and everyone he knew turning their backs on him. What was real?

Clark spread his hands, trying to ground himself. He could feel soft sheets under his fingers instead of the broken pieces of his home and he hoped that this was reality.

"What's the last thing that you remember, Clark?" Lex's voice brought him back out of his memories.

His brain urged him to say that the last thing he'd seen was Lana as she'd cast some kind of spell over him, but that couldn't be right. If that were true then he wouldn't be here with Lex now and, if it wasn't real, Clark didn't want to say anything that would remind Lex of his own ordeal at Lana's hands. Instead, Clark simply shook his head.

"Everything is so confused," he said. "I just don't know. Tell me what happened."

"It was Christmas Eve and there was a party at the Talon. I think half the town must have been there; the place was packed. It's just as well your mom had been baking up a storm for days." Lex carefully took a seat next to Clark on the bed. He reached out and covered one of Clark's hands with his own, stopping Clark's fingers from picking nervously at the sheets. "Are you sure you don't remember being there?"

Clark closed his eyes, concentrating hard. Slowly, a few images began to surface. He was in the Talon and it was more crowded than he could ever remember seeing it. There was music playing and people were crushed together as they tried to dance in the spaces between the tables.

"It was hot and I was thirsty," Clark said finally. "Everyone was dancing. I remember going to get a drink. Someone had made punch and people were saying how great it tasted. I thought I'd try some."

Beside him, Lex nodded. "Yes, I did see you drinking something. Then, a while later, you told me you were feeling light-headed. You looked pale and you were sweating. I said I'd get your mother, but you didn't want me to trouble her when she was so busy. You asked me to bring you back here so you could rest until you felt better.

"By the time we arrived you were completely out of it and you barely managed to stumble upstairs before you fell asleep. A little later on I heard you moaning. When I came up to see how you were doing you were thrashing around and crying out in your sleep. You must have been having a nightmare or something, but I couldn't wake you. I was worried, Clark."

Lex absently reached up to stroke Clark's hair. The touch was soothing and Clark leaned into it gratefully.

"My guess is that someone spiked the punch and whatever they put in it didn't agree with you," Lex continued. "And if I ever get my hands on whoever it was, they'll live to regret it."

"It's all right, Lex. They probably didn't mean any real harm by it and I'm fine now." Clark let his head rest on Lex's shoulder, enjoying the feeling of Lex's fingers petting his hair.

"It's stupid and it could have been dangerous," Lex said a definite note of anger in his voice. "Believe me, I know from experience, this could have been much more serious."

"I just had a nightmare; that's all," Clark reassured him, wishing he could reassure himself as easily.

"It was more than just a nightmare, Clark," Lex said firmly. "You sounded terrified when you cried out. Do you remember anything of what you dreamed?"

The images were still starkly clear in his mind, but Clark didn't think he was ready to talk about them just yet. He wasn't sure if he ever would be. He shivered; just thinking about the nightmare chilled him.

"No," he lied, pressing closer against Lex, needing to feel his warmth. "All I remember is feeling scared and wanting to wake up, but I couldn't. Then you were there, touching me, and it was all right."

Clark turned his head and reached up to kiss Lex. It was a relief when he didn't pull away, instead leaning into the kiss and letting his tongue slide into Clark's mouth hungrily.

By the time their lips finally parted they'd moved so that they were lying side by side on the bed. Clark's hand slipped under the hem of Lex's shirt, gently touching the smooth, warm skin.

"I love you," Clark said suddenly. "I don't say it enough, but I do."

Lex smiled, his fingers slowly tracing the contours of Clark's face. "I know, and I love you too, Clark." His lips quirked with a quick flash of amusement. "But if you even think of using your X-ray vision to check out your presents before tomorrow morning I will tell your mom and then there'll be no pie for you."

The affectionate teasing made them both laugh and Clark felt the last of the tension leave his body. The nightmare had it all wrong. He might not be human, but to the people who loved him it made no difference at all.

END

BOOKS

Harry Potter - Snape/Dumbledore

Author: Penemuel
Title: Christmas at Hogwarts
Date: Deadline 12/11 for 12/14/04
Fandom: Harry Potter/Books
Pairing: Dumbledore/Snape (Lucius/Snape implied) Rating: light R (some groping and suggestive action)
Summary: It's only been two years since the Death Eater trials, and Snape isn't ready to spend the
holidays with his 'friends'.
Disclaimer: Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, and all of the other Harry Potter characters are copyright JKRowling. I'm not her [If I were, there's no way in hell I'd say someone with a background like Tom Riddle's is inherently evil. What, me, annoyed? Naaah...], and I'm not making her bundles of cash from this. I'm not making ANY cash from this...
Feedback address: arkadi_1@yahoo.com or onlist
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Note: Wordcount: 1913 words per Word
Beta: Quickie beta by Leviathan & spellcheck by Word

CHRISTMAS AT HOGWARTS

The second Christmas after the trials, and Severus Snape found himself sitting alone in the teacher's lounge again, working on the potions that he would be teaching in the coming term, trying not to think about what he would have been doing just two short years before... Trying not to think about the extravagant party he was missing, thrown by his best friend Lucius Malfoy and attended by anyone who was someone in Wizarding London.

Maybe he would be able to attend the next year, he mused. By then, he might have a strong enough control over his *Occlumency* to be able to risk being around so many Death Eaters. By then, he might be able to lie to his best friend and not have the man instantly aware that something was wrong... "Bloody hell," he muttered, throwing down his quill in disgust. If he had known, originally, that it was going to be so hard...

Resting his head in his hands, he heaved a sigh of frustration and squeezed his eyes shut against the humiliating prickle of tears. He was *not* going to cry just because he was alone on Christmas while he knew his best friend, and those he had called friends for years were all having fun without him!

"Severus?"

The voice was quiet and gentle, but still startled him badly. He gasped and looked up to find Headmaster Dumbledore looking at him with concern in his bright blue eyes. "Yes?" he asked, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice.

Dumbledore sat across from him and gently touched his hand. "It's time for Christmas dinner, Severus. You can plan how to torture your students later -- come, join me in the Great Hall. There is no reason for you to exile yourself here while everyone else is having fun."

"No, that's all right, Headmaster, I really have a lot of work to finish here," Snape protested, although he knew before he even finished that he was fighting a losing battle.

"First, it is the holiday and you will call me 'Albus', or if you *must*, 'Dumbledore', but certainly not 'Headmaster'. Second, I will not allow you to do *any* more work until the holidays are over." His eyes twinkled and he smiled, then, and added, "Don't make me take your quill and ink away, Severus."

Snape sighed again and sent his quill, ink, and notes floating over to a cabinet, then nodded. "Very well, Albus, I will join you for Christmas dinner. He stood and followed Dumbledore to the Great Hall, where he was led not to the staff table, but to a large, round table set for a Christmas feast. Already seated around the table were some of the other teachers, including Minerva McGonagall.

Snape hesitated upon seeing her, but she inclined her head and quietly said, "Severus. We're glad that you could join us." A smile quirked her lips and she had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she added, "Our Albus can be most persuasive."

"Apparently, he can," Snape agreed quietly, acknowledging the other teachers with the barest of nods. He sat at the table and was about to pick up his utensils and begin to eat, until he realized Dumbledore was still standing and was about to make a speech. He sighed and turned his attention to the Headmaster, and waited.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, then said, "This holiday, as we celebrate the renewal of the year, we also celebrate friends. No one should have to go through life alone, especially not when he is surrounded by people who care about him. So come, make we joy, and have a feast!" And then he sat in the chair right next to Snape and picked up the brightly wrapped cylinder from his plate and gleefully asked, "Christmas cracker?"

Snape was about to grumble something, but the look Dumbledore gave him made him sigh and grasp the other end of the wrapping, then tug. The cylinder popped open with a loud *crack* and a shower of colourful sparks which settled over the two of them as magical glitter. "Ah! Magnificent!" Dumbledore exclaimed, shaking out an enormously tall red and white striped top hat and swapping it for his pointed hat. In addition to the hat, he held up a small bag of sherbet lemons and beamed. "My favourites!"

"Yes, wonderful," Snape murmured, seeing Dumbledore's eyes light on his own cracker and already dreading what was coming next. He glanced aside at McGonagall for assistance, but found her sitting there wearing a bright purple and green 'Mad Hatter' hat in place of her own pointed hat. He sighed again and picked up his own cracker, then held it out to Dumbledore and muttered, "I guess it must be my turn."

"Oh, Severus, do lighten up!" Dumbledore said with a grin. "It's just for one day -- no one's going to let the students know you had fun." He tugged on the other end of the cracker, and as it opened in a shower of sparks, a Slytherin green nightcap with a silver tassel, and a chocolate frog popped out. Snape let out a quiet groan as Dumbledore laughed, picked up the cap, and put it on his head, then flipped the tassel down over his forehead. "That's a good look for you, Severus," he chuckled as Snape glowered poisonously at him.

Once all of the other teachers had opened their crackers, Dumbledore waved his hands and the feast appeared, and for a while they were quiet while they ate. When it grew closer to dessert and everyone began to slow down, conversation started up and Snape found himself beginning to relax and join in occasionally. After his third glass of Wassail, he was far more relaxed and McGonagall even caught him smiling once or twice -- although she didn't point this out.

Hours after it started, the dinner finally finished, and as Snape stood to bid everyone goodnight, Dumbledore stood, too, and said, "If you don't mind, Severus, I'd like to invite you up to my rooms to continue our discussion of those True Sight potions you mentioned."

Snape shot him a surprised look, but the lure of talking about his favourite subject was too great. He nodded, and after wishing the others 'Merry Christmas', he followed Dumbledore to his rooms. Once there, Dumbledore motioned for him to sit on a couch, while he took two glasses and a crystal decanter holding firewhiskey from a cabinet. Once he poured for both of them, he sat on the other side of the couch and picked up his glass, nodding for Snape to do the same. "To true friends," Dumbledore said, lifting his glass in a toast.

Snape nodded and murmured, "True friends," and raised his own glass, then sipped at the potent drink. "Merlin, that's good," he whispered, feeling the heat rush through him as the drink warmed him.

Dumbledore smiled and said, "Yes, I rather thought you might appreciate that," breathing out a small wisp of smoke after his own swallow. "So, your potions?"

For a while, Snape found himself quite happily discussing his passion, inventing and perfecting potions, with the one man who had believed him when all others had turned against him. He found himself relaxing and enjoying good drink and good company and the lively discussion, although eventually they had to agree that if he developed a potion that allowed someone to see the truth behind any deception, he would be just as vulnerable to it.

It was as he was grumbling about that and about having to lie to people he called friends that he realized Dumbledore was sitting much closer than he had been when they started. He looked up in somewhat tipsy surprise as Dumbledore asked, "You do realize that I am also your friend, don't you, Severus?"

For a long moment he stared, dark eyes trapped by those bright blue ones, then he blinked and asked, "What? I-- oh, yes, I realize, Albus. I'm sorry. It's just..." He frowned, puzzled by the words that seemed to be fighting their way out of his mouth. "It's not the same."

Dumbledore nodded and said, "No, I'm sure it isn't. You've known Lucius since you were both children, and you've been through a lot together." Then he gently lay a hand on Snape's thigh and very softly said, "But just because you can't be with him, it doesn't mean you have to be alone..."

Snape let out a quiet gasp, realizing what Dumbledore was suggesting. The hand on his thigh was warm, the heat sinking through his robes and sending a shudder through him. He let out a long, low groan and shifted in his seat, feeling his body responding before his mind could really catch up with what was happening. "Merlin..." he breathed, leaning his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. "Albus, you don't have to do that," he groaned, grasping the hand and lifting it from his thigh.

"No, Severus, I don't. But I want to, and I can tell you want me to," Dumbledore whispered, sliding closer so that their thighs brushed.

Snape groaned again, and let the hand go, moaning quietly as it landed on his groin instead of his thigh. Thrusting up against it, he settled his hand on top of it and moaned again, bit back the plea that nearly escaped as Dumbledore squeezed and massaged his hardening cock through his robes.

"Yes, Severus, let yourself go," Dumbledore murmured, smiling as he felt the tension fade from Snape's body to be replaced with hunger and need. "Come to the bedroom with me, and I'll see what we can do about this," he added, rubbing and smiling as Snape's hand began to press down and encourage him.

Snape groaned and grabbed his hand, sitting up and opening his eyes again. Dumbledore smiled as he saw the hunger in those dark eyes, and stood up, pulling him to the bedroom. Once inside, hands stripped off robes and clothes, and Snape groaned as Dumbledore pushed him back onto the bed. "Just relax, Severus. Relax, and enjoy," he murmured, hands sliding all over pale skin, coaxing pleasure from him; driving him wild.

***

The next morning, Snape woke to find himself sprawled in a bed not his own, limbs tangled with someone whose long pale hair spread over the pillows and tangled over his face. For a moment he thought it was Lucius, until he remembered the night before; the surprise he felt at how athletic and energetic Dumbledore had been. He allowed himself a small smile as he smoothed the hair back from Dumbledore's face and carded his fingers through it, playing with the long, silky locks.

"You like my hair, don't you, Severus?" Dumbledore murmured, opening his eyes and smiling up at him.

"I may be partial to long hair, yes," Snape admitted with a smirk. "You..."

"Surprised you?" Dumbledore asked with a smirk. "You know, that wasn't just a Christmas present, Severus -- if you'd like to continue this, I certainly wouldn't complain."

"I think that might be a mutually beneficial arrangement," Snape said with an answering smirk, then pulled Dumbledore into his arms and rolled them so he lay under the older man. "This just might have been the best present I've had in years..."

"That was exactly my idea, Severus. Merry Christmas," Dumbledore answered with a laugh, leaning in and kissing him.

--end--

BOOKS

Harry Potter - Snape/Draco

Author: secret_zephyr
Title: A Small Epiphany
Date: December 14th
Fandom: Harry Potter/Books
Pairing: Draco/Snape
Rating: G
Summary: Draco needs to make a decision.
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter world and its characters do not belong to me. I just like to play with them.
Feedback address: secret.zephyr@gmail.com
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Note: No spoilers as this story takes place out of context of the books or movies (in the hopeful future).
Beta: the wonderful Eppy

A SMALL EPIPHANY

If epiphanies were supposed to set in suddenly with a swish of a wand, then Draco Malfoy would not be staring at his Christmas feast accursedly, waiting in vain. He had learnt that Professor Snape was a spy yesterday, and his father had fought with the professor over it. It was a verbal fight, the kind his father always loved. Malfoys never drew wands unless they were sure to win, and Malfoys most certainly did not engage in barbaric physical battles. Those were for underlings like Crabbe or Goyle.

Draco had never doubted his father, as he had never doubted his own belief in his father. His father was everything that made the Malfoy name proud, and Draco strived to be that man someday. To Draco, his father was always right, and he would never doubt that.

On the same token, Draco had always admired Professor Snape, had always thought of Snape on his side, not just the Slytherin side, but his personal side. The professor always had high expectations of Draco, yet unlike his father, Snape believed he could actually achieve the best. And Draco wasn’t sure if he could stand to lose that support.

Draco now found himself at a crossroad.

And his epiphany wasn’t coming.

No matter which side he chose, he would leave a part of himself behind.

“Are you gonna eat that?” Goyle asked, a hand already grabbing the brownie on Draco’s plate.

Draco glared. How was he supposed to have an epiphany if people kept interrupting him?

Goyle shrugged and ate the brownie.

Suddenly, a laugh rose from the Gryffindor table, and the sound sliced through Draco, skinning his limited patience.

He raised his glare across the Great Hall and caught Harry Potter.

Potter, the one who had everything worked out. Potter had a destiny. Potter had no doubt about his duties and beliefs. No doubt about which side he was on.

At that moment, Draco was sure he had never hated Potter more.

And then he made his decision.

Which was why he waited outside the door after lunch without Crabbe or Goyle, and as soon as Potter stepped through the door, Draco punched the other boy in the face.

Later, when Draco was lying flat on his back after Potter left uninjured, he surmised that Potter’s bewildered face after being punched was almost worth losing the fistfight afterwards. And almost worth losing fifty house points.

Through his dazed vision, he saw Snape staring down at him with a face of disgust and disappointment. It was the same expression his father always wore whenever Draco didn’t live up to his expectations. But unlike with his father, Draco didn’t feel like someone had cast Cruciatous on him. Snape’s expressions were mostly for show, but his father’s were genuine.

“I would have never thought you would stoop to such a barbaric level, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco managed what he hoped was a smug smile. “But were you hoping that I would?”

“Not if you were going to lose this pathetically.”

“Father would not approve.”

Snape stared at him for a moment and said, “No, I don’t imagine he would.”

“He would not approve of me liking you either.”

Snape narrowed his eyes. “I would not approve.”

“But you were hoping that I did?”

After a few heartbeats of silence, Draco knew he made the right choice. He positively grinned.

Maybe hours later, after the adrenaline had faded, Draco would wonder if he had made the right choice after all. His father would be disappointed, would tell him he was unworthy of the Malfoy name. But Professor Snape would guide him, would be someone to him that Draco needed most, will need most. Someone that his father could never be.

“Potter must have damaged your brain during that unsightly brawl. I suggest you pick yourself up from the floor and visit the infirmary immediately.”

Draco held out his hand, and slowly, Snape took it and pulled him up. Before Snape could leave, Draco grabbed the man’s robe and pulled him down for a brief kiss.

“You’re making a mistake, Mr. Malfoy.” But Snape’s voice was rasp and unsteady, as if suddenly losing a pre-formed belief.

Draco grinned. “Happy Christmas, professor.”

Perhaps it was time for Snape to have his own epiphany.

END

BOOKS

The Dark is Rising - Will Stanton/Barnabas Drew

Author: avis
Title: At Peace in the Dark
Pairing: Will Stanton/Barnabas Drew
Rating: G – sorry!
Fandom: The Dark is Rising (book)
Summary: Barney forgot it all. But there are echoes.
Date of publication: 12/14/2004
Disclaimer: I own nothing – especially not these guys.
Feedback address: booleangrape@yahoo.com
Beta: scorpyes
Note: Futurefic.
Part of the Slash Advent Calendar of 2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm

AT PEACE IN THE DARK

The Dark is Rising series: Will/Barney
December 14

"Hey there, Old One!" Barnabas Drew called out as he came through the door to the flat.

Will was used to the nickname by now and it hardly bothered him to hear his younger lover call him that. Still, it was his job to complain.

"Barney, you do realize that I'm not significantly older than you, right?"

"'Course you're not. And you'll stay young forever, right?" Barney smirked, as he wrapped his arms around Will's waist and leaned up to kiss him.

That, however, did cause a twinge. Will tried hard not to dwell on the fact that what he and Barney had could never be permanent. Even if they stayed together all of Barney's life (unlikely, given how few 23 year olds were ready to commit to a lifetime with someone else) Will knew how long his life might continue after that. A lifetime with Barney, and then untold lifetimes without.

It was probably better that Barney would get tired of him within a short time. No need to explain why time was playing favorites, and that favorite was Will.

"How was work?" asked Will, changing the subject, and moving back to the kitchen.

"Not bad. It's frustrating sometimes, though. I mean - we're trying to change the world for the better, right? Who doesn't want to make the world a better place? But it's like there's always something fighting against us. Still, Bran is garnering a lot of support. Some people react to him like he's the second coming of Arthur, they're so devoted."

Will didn't laugh – or sigh at that. Barney had a way of picking just the right phrase to pick at all of the half-healed sores. Sometimes Will wasn't sure that Barney *had* forgotten everything. Sometimes he wondered if the boy was testing him, trying to see if Will would admit to things that had come before.

Will thought of a boy, given the choice to go with a newly revealed father, a legendary figure, into a place of myth and peace. And of a young man who chose to turn away from that comfort, to give up that peace to stay and fight for the present and the future in his own way. Politics hadn't been the kind of fighting that Arthur himself had excelled at, but Bran was making his way.

Will tried once again to steer the conversation back to subjects less fraught with multiple interpretations, and the upcoming plans for Christmas became the new topic. They discussed who would be coming and where they would be staying as Will finished up dinner and Barney watched from the bar looking into the room. This was the first Christmas that Barney and Will had officially been together and they were curious as to how everyone would react.

"You know, I'm still not sure how Simon feels about how this turned out," Barney mused. "He was worried for the longest that you were after Jane and he wasn't sure that he trusted you with his little sister. I don't think it ever occurred to him that you weren't interested in his *sister* at all. Now he can't decide if he's relieved that the strange young man isn't going after her, insulted that the strange young man isn't going after her, or shocked that the strange young man is after me."

"I was not after you at all," Will declared, as he placed dinner on the table. "I just decided that it was easier to let you stay than to keep throwing you out of my bed every night. I never did believe all of those missed trains and 'too tired to head out' excuses."

"Hey!" Barney exclaimed. "You're just lucky I know how crazy you are about me, or I might be insulted at that!" If Barney was insulted, he didn't let that keep him from doing justice to his meal.

That night, after Will and Barney had finished cleaning up and had headed off to bed, Will thought again about the boy lying next to him. Will knew that he would never have initiated a relationship with the younger man. He had heard too many stories from Merriman about the consequences of an Old One trying to maintain a relationship with a mortal to think this could ever be easy. But somehow Barney had convinced him to give this a chance.

Barney had actually been flirting with Will since they were both teens. Barney hadn't known why Will was reluctant to date him and had drawn some unflattering conclusions about Will's comfort with dating another man before it was all over. But he had persisted, sensing that there was a connection between them that would not be denied. He wasn't sure what had finally turned the tide in his favor, but was happy enough not to question anything and if Barney thought it was his boyish good looks and charm that had won through, Will would let him. He would never have understood that he was a reminder to Will of what people could be. Even if Barney didn't remember, Will did. Will remembered that the child Barney had been, with no special skills or calling, had done what he felt was necessary because he knew it to be right. That boy, this young man, had risked himself to save the world. And he reminded Will of the good that was in all people. And that no matter how alone Will felt, there would always be other people fighting, even if they never fully understood the stakes.

And when Barney turned to Will, sensing that Will was in a place far from their bed, and he rolled on top of him, kissing him back to the here and now, Will let him.

END

MOVIEVERSE

Star Wars - Qui Gon/Obi Wan

Title: Close Your Eyes, Not, To the Possibilities
Author: acidreams
Category: Movies
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairing: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi Wan Kenobi
Feedback: tomcatgab@icqmail.com
Rating: PG15
Summary: A Master muses on his Padawan.
Warnings: Slash... duh :)
Note: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Disclaimers: If I owned... If only I owned... You can only imagine the carnality at which I would have them display If I did. In other less pretty words, I do not own and probably never will.

Close Your Eyes, Not, To the Possibilities

I’m watching you kneeling there. I do this often, too often, well at least more often than a
master should.

For I am your master, and you are my Padawan, my student, the closest thing I have to a son, and my greatest and deepest desire. We’ve been Master and apprentice for over twelve years now. Twelve long years, of blood, sweat, and tears. Of trails and tribulations, heart breaks, firsts, lasts, birthdays, the dreaded sex talk. Let me tell you that was every bit as hard for me to get through as it was for you to ask.

I was there the day you built your first lightsaber, and the first time you lost it. I was there for your first successful attempt to be access the force through meditation. Through the nightmares that plagued your dreams, and through your puberty, which was… interesting to say the least.

I remember the day you took your vow, I still don’t know who you took it for, but whom ever they are, now that you are going to be a Knight, they’ll have no excuses. That night you took your vow you were so distraught, I honestly didn’t know if you were going to be able to hold true to it.

After all, it was rumored, that you had slept with every humanoid female of your year, and even a few Knights. Yes, your master listens to temple gossip, but only when it concerns you my Padawan.

Well not for much longer, but some part of you will always be. Though on your Knighting day, I will welcome you into the Order on even footing, as a Knight and a respected member of the Order of the Jedi Knights.

I hope someday to be there when you take your first Padawan, and then on the day you welcome them into their Knighting. But in actuality it frightens me, for I shall miss you.
Call me selfish, but I have come to rely on your presence, on you. I’ve come to rely on you so much. The bond that we have, most Master-Apprentices will never achieve, even some paired knights do not have a bond level that we have.

Master Yoda was correct when he said that we would balance each other. You follow the rules, sometimes to closely, and I am a rogue, a wild card, as some have taken to call me, a menace as others say.

I hear other masters talk about you as well, complimenting your fine form, or the way you handle yourself, and those around you. It takes every bit of stoicism within me when they question about you personally.

Every time it’s the same answer. “He’s free to date whom he chooses and he chooses none.” Most just sigh sadly, and look away others, seem to believe that they would stand a chance with you.

Part of me hates the person who did that to you, the other part of me is furiously envious. After all, he- for I know it’s a he, has your love, your devotion, and your affection.

I wonder if he even knows, that night that you took your vow, you seemed so sure that you stood no chance.

***-
“Master?” Obi-Wan called out, as he entered their shared quarters.

“In here Padawan.” Qui-Gon called out from the study. “What’s wrong?” He asked after catching sight of his padawan’s distraught face.

“Master, will you show me how to perform the chastity vow?” Obi Wan asked in a rush, after a moments pause.

“Obi-Wan, what’s wrong?” Qui-Gon asked closing his book and standing to cross the room to his pacing Padawan.

“I… master, I know I can trust you with anything right?” Obi Wan asked looking up at Qui-Gon with unshed tears in his eyes.

“Of course you can.” Qui-Gon said, grasping the boys trembling shoulder.

“You will not judge me?” Obi Wan asked, searching his master’s eyes.

“Padawan, please tell me what’s bothering you so much.” Qui-Gon said, leading the fidgeting boy to a chair.

“I… master.” Taking a deep breath the man continues. “Tonight, I went to the Center, just like every other night, but tonight was different. In my choice of partners I always seemed to be missing something, I find them deep, and attractive, or something. But there is always something missing.”

“So tonight I tried something different. Something I had never given much thought or… to be honest I had given it thought, but I always wrote it off for not being my type of thing.” Biting his lip, Obi Wan continues.

“Maser, I think I’m gay, no I don’t think it, I know it. And what’s more is that the thing I’ve been missing in my nightly forays is love. I’ve been in love with someone and have never even known it.” Obi Wan said, slouching back into the couch, seemingly exhausted.

“So from what I’m gathering, is that tonight you had your first affair with a man, found out that you prefer men and that you’re in love?” Qui-Gon asked, pondering why his Padawan wanted to do the Chastity Vow.

“Yes.” Obi-Wan said dejectedly.

“Obi Wan, it is alright to be attracted to men. It is accepted, and tolerated. There’s no need to take the vow if that is your reasoning behind it.” Qui-Gon said, smiling slightly.

“It’s not that.” Obi-Wan said, looking at a spot somewhere over Qui-Gon shoulder, his face red as a ripe tomato.

“Then tell me Padawan, why take the vow? Pleasurable company with men is just that pleasurable.” Qui-Gon said attempting to meet his padawans eyes.

“The man, that I’m in love with is older than I am. There no way I could seek out a relationship between the two of us. It’s forbidden, until I am of age.”

“So is it a Council Man, a Senator, or a Master?” Qui-Gon asked, somewhat taken aback.

“It’s a master.” The man sighed. “I want to take the vow master.” He said, finally meeting his master’s eyes.

“All right then.”

You preformed the vow that night, and have held fast to it every night since then. For that I am very proud of you, and also greatly, saddened. For in a little bit, you will be free to pursue this great love of yours.

You never talk of him, it seems as though after that night he was put out of your thoughts completely. He never once came up again, and that was well over four years ago. Four years you’ve been celibate.

Oh how far my thoughts have traveled, watching as you take your final meditation as my Padawan. My Padawan. Mine. But not for too much longer, I can feel it. You’re beginning to come out of your meditation.

“Master?” You question, looking at the tears that have somehow escaped my grip.
Shaking my head I take your hand and stand.

“You have passed your final trials, you have completed your apprentice meditations, I now confer to you the title of Knight, and welcome you into the order.” Master Yoda’s voice echoes throughout the room.

I take the knife in my hand and raise it to your braid. Lifting the end I kiss it, then cut it from the back of your ear. I tie the ends of it so it will remain braided. I hand you the braid and the knife, you close the knife and hand me back the braid.

I almost cry at this. It is usually customarily for the masters to be given the braid but there have been cases where the braid was saved to be given to their partners or their intendeds. I figured you would want to give it to the man that you love.

“You alright master?” You ask, that small smirk on your face.

“Not your…” You cut me off.

“Master, I know, but you’ll always be my master.” You smile, and again I almost cry.
“You’ll always be my padawan.” I say, nodding once to the Knight standing before me, and then turn to leave. At first I had intended to head back to our quarters, but the thought of returning to those quarters alone, depressed me greatly.

And that’s how I wound up at Yoda’s door.

“My master.” Qui-Gon said bowing to the green being.

“Doing what, are you here?” Yoda asked, then walked away from the open door.

“I did not want to return to my quarters just yet.” Qui-Gon said, taking a seat in the large chair Yoda had specifically for Qui-Gon.

“Why?” Yoda asked. “Boy he is no more. Man he is, grown. Knight now.”

“I know he is a Knight now master. But it does not matter.” Qui-Gon said sighing and then setting down his tea.

“Watched you watch him I have. Love him you do. Tell him, why not?” Yoda asked, looking pointedly at his former Padawan.

“Because, he loves someone else.” Qui-Gon said before standing up. “I’m sorry master. I need to go.” Qui-Gon said heading for the door. Pausing only for a moment to listen to his master’s advice, or warning.

“Close your eyes, not, to the possibilities.” Yoda said, and then Qui-Gon left the quarters heading back to his own.

***`

“Master?” Obi-Wan asked groggily.

“Obi-Wan? What are you doing here?” Qui-Gon asked, startled.

“I… master, Qui-Gon. There’s something that I need to tell you.” Obi-Wan said leaping from the couch.

“Last time we had this discussion, you wound up taking a chastity vow.” Qui-Gon chuckled, causing Obi Wan to laugh.

“Actually it’s about that.” Obi Wan said, biting his lip in nervousness.

“What is it Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asked coming to stand in front of him.

“I thought you would like to know who… the vow was about. I mean who I took the vow for.” Obi Wan said, wringing his hands. Looking up into his master’s eyes he decides.

Taking a deep breath he whispers, “You” and then crashes his lips to Qui-Gon’s.

For a moment Qui-Gon stands completely still, not believing that his Obi-Wan is slowly wrapping his body around his own. Obi Wan pulls back to look into Qui-Gon’s dazed eyes.

“I… I’m sorry…” Obi Wan starts, but it quieted by pulled into Qui-Gon’s arms and kissed senseless.

Pulling back after both are almost light headed from lack of air, Qui-Gon looks down into Obi Wan’s flushed face and smiles. “Obi-Wan.”

“I love you!” Obi Wan burst out blushing. “I just wanted you to know that.” He said laughing slightly.

“I love you to my Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon said kissing the man once more.

***`

It was a few months after that, that the bonding ceremony for one Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn was to be bonded with one Jedi Knight Obi Wan Kenobi. They had picked the winter holidays. When Obi Wan hated the weather most, so he would now always remember the snow with fond memories.

Of becoming one, in the cold chill air.

The End is only the beginning. For the end of something is only the beginning of something else.

Merry Christmas Ya’ll, and have a Happy New Year.

REALISTIC SHOWS

The O.C - Seth/Ryan

Author: Jas Masson
Title: Holidays
Date: 14th December
Fandom: The O.C./Realistic
Pairing: Seth/Ryan
Rating: R, for some crude language
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money, blah, blah
Feedback: jasmasson@yahoo.com
Summary: The boys are home for the holiday
Advertisement: For the Slash Advent Calendar 2004: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm

HOLIDAYS

Ryan wasn’t entirely sure he was happy.

He was certainly feeling something, but he actually thought it might be nerves rather than happiness, or possibly indigestion from some truly awful airplane food.

He was *surrounded* by happiness, he knew that. Everywhere he looked, people smiling, singing, jumping into each other’s arms like they were in the movies, and, yes, he thought as he spotted Sandy and Kirsten in the crowd, there was a piece of happiness just for him.

“Ryan!” Kirsten’s lovely face lit up in delight and Ryan found himself responding with a smile.

“Good to see you, son,” Sandy said, pulling him into a hug.

Ryan wasn’t quite sure what that emotion he was feeling now was either, possibly happiness, but as it seemed to make his eyes water he couldn’t be sure.

“Good to be home,” he said softly, moving over to give Kirsten a quick kiss on the cheek.

Sandy and Kirsten’s eyes also looked a bit wet when he said that, though, so probably, what he was feeling was happiness he decided, and he smiled warmly at them as Sandy took one of his bags and Kirsten linked her arm in his and began leading them out of the airport.

“When’s Seth’s flight?” he found himself asking.

Kirsten’s megawatt smile dimmed a little.

“He won’t be back until next week.” She shared a look with Sandy, “He’ll be back on the 23rd, in time for Christmas.”

*But not for Chanukah.* Ryan thought, *And definitely no more Christmukka*.

No, Ryan thought as they stepped out into the bright California winter sunshine, not quite happiness.

***

They were both supposed to go to Yale. That had been the plan. They’d talked about it so many times, playing Play Station, reading comics, over sugary cereal, on Ryan’s bed doing homework. On those occasions it had been almost an incentive; do the homework, do it well, go to Yale.

Yale had taken on an almost mythical quality for them. Quite what they expected to find so wonderful there, he didn’t know exactly. He thought that perhaps they had some bizarre suspicion that college girls would somehow infinitely superior to high school girls, a thought that here he’d meet the girl for him.

He suspected that Kirsten had told Seth, like so many parents with geeky, intelligent children, that he’d come into his own at college, and Ryan believed that. He suspected that Newport kids were still seeing Seth through Seth-Cohen glasses, remembering him as the constantly bullied nerd. That it would only take a fresh look, like they would take at Yale, to see what a smart, funny, cute guy he was.

And as for Ryan. He would have made it. An Atwood at Yale was unthinkable. Ryan had been plagued with doubts that he wouldn’t be smart enough - they wouldn’t want him - but Seth had gently encouraged and snarked his fears away.

He’d thought if he got into Yale he would have made it on his own. Sandy and Kirsten could take him away from poverty, from crime, from a life of hopelessness, but they couldn’t get him into Yale. Only Ryan could do that, if he was smart enough. And he was. Test scores that continually surprised him, he wondered if his mother had dallied with someone other than his father on that crucial night of conception, but he could sometimes see traces of his father in his face. Particularly when he was angry, or sad, but maybe that was just traces of Chino in the mirror.

Whichever. Ryan had actually made it - whether through his mother’s indiscretion, a freak of genetics or a simple determination - Ryan had been accepted into Yale. But Seth had not.

***

Ryan woke up the instant the door began to open. Even living with the comings and goings of a roommate hadn’t cured him of that, not even after years of safety with the Cohens. He still jerked awake as though he expected to see his mother’s boyfriend looming huge, drunk and violent in the doorway.

The figure in the doorway did not loom menacingly, and despite the stumbling in the dark, was probably not drunk, merely exhibiting traces of a clumsy Jewish boy unsure where in the hell all these long limbs had suddenly come from.

Ryan flicked on the light.

“Ow,” Seth blinked and simultaneously stubbed his toe, so Ryan was unsure whether the “ow” was from the sudden bright light or toe injury or a bit of both.

Seth hopped a little bit in pain, ill advised with the precarious weight of three large hold-alls, and therefore overbalanced and stumbled down the steps leading into the room. One of the bags slipped off his shoulder, knocking over a lamp, and the other two crashed onto the floor as Seth made a completely unrealistic attempt to catch the falling lamp, and then completed his brief, but eventful, entrance by falling (more by luck than judgement) into one of the large chairs against the wall.

“Hey Seth,” Ryan said calmly.

“Hey Ryan,” Seth responded, “didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Yeah,” Ryan surveyed the mess in his room. “For future reference. Stealth? Not really you.”

Seth grinned, and Ryan felt, for the first time this evening, a sliver of something he could be sure was happiness.

“So,” Ryan said. “I thought you weren’t coming home for a while.”

Seth shrugged uncomfortably. “Changed my mind.”

Ryan decided not to push. Yet.

“You managed to get a flight at such short notice this time of year?”

Seth looked even more uncomfortable. “I already had it booked. But there was so much to do, I decided to stay and drive back later, but never got round to cancelling it.”

“You were gonna drive from Harvard to California?” Ryan said in amazement.

“Pancake tour of North America,” Seth said with a sheepish grin. “But then I figured with the time it would take to drive, I wouldn’t really gain any time to study, so I took this one instead.”

Ryan shook his head at the Seth-logic.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said honestly.

Seth flushed a little, still unsure of compliments that didn’t come from his parents.

“I’m pretty beat,” he said. “It’s a hell of a flight.”

“You gonna go up to the house?” Ryan asked, knowing he’d wake Sandy and Kirsten and then wouldn’t get to bed for a long time.

Seth clearly knew this too, and shrugged. “I guess I could sleep here,” he said, “the chair’s not too uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Ryan said, the first hint, the first *hint*, of annoyance creeping into his tone.

Seth flushed slightly again, then shrugged again. “If you don’t mind, then.”

Ryan just looked at him, until Seth got up, stripped down to his boxers, and climbed into Ryan’s bed.

Ryan flicked off the light.

“’Night Seth.”

“’Night Ryan.”

They both settled down to sleep, like they’d done a hundred times before.

***

But, no, that wasn’t all they’d done a hundred times before in Ryan’s bed.

It had been in that first year, when Ryan was still accepting the mixed bag that was Marissa’s affection, and Seth was finding his feet with Summer and Anna, that Ryan had first found his eyes drawn to Seth’s mouth.

To Seth’s smart, quick mouth and noticed that it was also wide, pink and soft.

Seth was naturally an affectionate person, at ease with physical contact, and the next time Seth had mock attacked him after a particularly fraught game of Grand Theft Auto, Ryan had done what came naturally to *him*, and had kissed Seth gently, but passionately, on the mouth.

Seth had pulled back, but only after a number of heated moments, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Ryan had forced himself to look away from Seth’s pink, wet and slightly swollen, parted lips to meet his eyes calmly.

“What the... You just... I mean you’re a... I didn’t know you... I never thought... You tasted good... Not like Summer, although Summer’s good but... This isn’t really... Although I suppose... It’s pretty much... OK.”

Ryan watched silently as Seth’s thought processes spun too fast for even his quick mouth.

“OK?” He asked when Seth appeared to be finished and, although he still looked a little wild around the eyes, not too freaked. You can adjust to slight shifts in the earth’s axis more easily when you’re a teenager and sex is involved.

“OK.” Seth said, shifting his body slightly towards Ryan in all the invitation Ryan needed.

And it had been as easy as that. Nights when they were both in were taken up with companionable DVDs, Play Station games, witty conversation and general quality Seth/Ryan times and were finished off with kisses and rubbing and hot, exploring hands and soft, warm mouths.

They had never taken it further than that, Ryan taking the bizarre view of prison inmates, military personnel and horny teenagers, that you weren’t really gay if you weren’t actually *fucking*. But Ryan was finding Seth’s uncomplicated, eager, exploratory friendship sex far sexier than most of the far more experienced women he had encountered before.

And Seth. Well, it seemed to Ryan that for Seth, sex was still so new that any day without sex was a day wasted, so when he wasn’t with Summer, he was looking at Ryan with heavy eyes. And Ryan was usually happy to oblige.

But it seemed that he really was enjoying his... activities with Seth far more than Marissa’s brand of fucked up beauty, so he wasn’t really bothered when the Oliver debacle split them up. He had Seth, after all, and who needed Marissa. A sense of responsibility for her did not substitute actual feeling.

Still, it was a bit worrying, and all, this. A little friendly, helping hand when there was nothing else on offer was perfectly normal, but this *preferring*, this was not really on.

So Teresa was rather a Godsend. Uncomplicated (at least that’s what he’d thought), friendly, sexy and definitely female.

He’d still indulged Seth, though, but felt a lot better about doing it.

***

When he woke up Seth was gone, but the broken lamp showed that his presence hadn’t been in Ryan’s head.

When he walked into the kitchen to find Kirsten hovering over Seth, occasionally touching his back, his shoulder, when asking if he wanted more juice, some coffee, a bagel...?

“*Mom*!” Seth sounded exasperated.

“Sorry, sorry,” Kirsten pulled a face. “I’m just glad to see you.”

“Me too, mom.”

“Morning, Ryan,” Kirsten said smiling as she saw him. “Would you like anything?”

“Coffee please.”

He smiled at Seth wrinkling his nose. Clearly, while Ryan had embraced the coffee shop culture of college possibly more than was good for him, to get him through the long, long nights and busy days, Seth had remained firm in his coffee convictions. He still didn’t like coffee, and Ryan had always thought that was probably for the best as Seth on coffee would be a scary thing.

As he sipped his coffee he noticed again Kirsten’s anxious gaze resting on Seth. The time between the college acceptance (or rejection) letters had been a strained time in the house. Seth had pulled away from them all, although he had been accepted into Harvard, into *Harvard* for God’s sake, his evident disappointment, jealously and doubt from not going to Yale, had erected a barrier between him and his family

Seth hadn’t come into the pool house in the evening since then. They’d still played Play Station, talked and spent at least some time together, in the Big House, but their nighttime activity ceased. Seth spent more time out with Summer, who had never taken him back, but who had embraced him as a friend after perhaps a month of being mad at him for leaving her while Ryan had been in Chino.

Seth’s disconnection had lasted. Despite the proximity of Yale to Harvard, Ryan hadn’t seen Seth since they’d set off to college. He’d asked Seth to visit him, asked when it would be convenient for him to visit Seth, but Seth had always been too busy. He’d responded to Ryan’s frequent emails with often wholly impersonal responses, emailed him jokes and anecdotes doing the e-rounds.

He knew Kirsten and Sandy had been receiving the same treatment, and so he’d felt almost nervous at seeing Seth again, and saddened at the news that Seth wouldn’t be coming home until just before Christmas, and knew Sandy and Kirsten would have been feeling just as bad.

“What are you going to be doing today?” Kirsten asked.

“I might see if Summer’s back,” Seth said, “I think she was due back today.”

When Seth finished his cereal, Ryan followed him upstairs. He sat on Seth’s bed as Seth opened his luggage and started rummaging through his stuff.

“You know, if you didn’t want to spend time with us, you didn’t have to come back this early.”

Seth froze for a second before continuing the general destruction of his baggage.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Spending every waking minute with Summer.”

“I’m just wearing her down, man. She’ll see the error of her ways soon enough.”

Ryan snorted.

“Right,” he said. “You’re not avoiding your parents, or me, then.”

“No, of course not. Just following love’s young dream like always.” He straightened up, holding fresh jeans and a shirt. “I’m going to grab a shower and then follow that star again.”

“No,” Ryan said calmly, “we’re going to have a little talk first.”

“What about?”

“Well, why you’re distancing yourself from us...”

“I’m *not*.”

“No?” Ryan paused, considering whether he should say this. “Then why didn’t you come to Yale?”

“Ryan, you know I don’t like to talk about that.”

“Because they rejected you.”

“Right.”

“I saw the letter, Seth.”

Seth stared at him.

“One day I was looking for your chemistry book because I couldn’t find mine and there it was tucked in the bottom of your drawer. An acceptance letter from Yale.”

Seth glanced down. Caught.

When he looked up his face was set.

“I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings. You were all set on Yale and I wanted Harvard.”

Ryan had thought about that before.

“No. I don’t believe you, Seth. If you’d done that you would have been all apologetic. Guilty. Trying to make it up, not stay away.”

Seth shrugged. “Maybe that was just how my guilt manifested itself.”

Ryan smiled slightly. “And how are you enjoying Psych 101? No, Seth, that’s not you.”

Seth sighed. “What does it matter, anyway? You’re happy at Yale, aren’t you? Your emails sound like you are.”

“Not completely, Seth,” Ryan said, softly. “And I’m not sure you are either.”

Seth looked away.

“It’s complicated, Ry. Just leave it alone.”

“No.” Ryan did realise how out of character it was for him to be trying to force Seth into conversation, but this was too important for Chino ideas of appropriate male behaviour and general opinions on men who talk about their *feelings*.

“It was because of us. You know.” An indefinable gesture and a slight blush that managed to explain everything. It was funny, Ryan thought, how Seth had been so open about it, so happy to talk about it, like it was perfectly normal, something that could happen in the broad light of day in the beginning, but couldn’t find the words now.

“If you wanted us to stop you could have just said.” Ryan said, amazed it was something so simple. “I mean, I guess we shouldn’t have carried it on much longer, anyway.”

Seth laughed. “Yeah, it’s OK when we were kids, but not for grown ups. Not for *college guys*.”

Ryan frowned.

“I don’t understand. What does that mean?”

Seth laughed a little shakily and shook his head.

“Jesus, Ryan. Do you know how weird you are?”

“Me!!”

“That night. That first night. You were so calm. Like it was so natural. No big deal.”

“That’s right.”

“No, Ryan. That’s not right. It was OK in the dark, but you never let me talk about it after. Like it was something to hide. I mean. I guess you are right, actually, now I thin about it. You did act like it was no big deal, but not about the right thing. You acted like us doing that stuff was no big deal, but I thought, at the beginning, you thought being *gay* was no big deal.”

“What? We’re not gay.”

“No, of course not. You coming in my mouth every night, doesn’t make us gay, so long as you don’t come in my ass, and still come in a girl, right?”

Ryan flushed at the crude words.

“I thought we were having fun, Seth.”

“We were, Ryan. I guess I was just having more fun than you.”

“That’s not true, Seth, come on. You know I wanted us to keep on. I tried to get you to come to the pool house again for ages.”

“I know. Until college, right. When we’d be all grown up and you’d find a new girl and start the rest of your life. I didn’t want to be your holding pattern, Ryan, and I sure the hell didn’t want to watch you bring girls back to our room at goddamned *Yale*. So I applied to Harvard and that was it.”

Ryan stared at him, trying to understand.

“What did you want? I mean, did you think I was using you, or did you, I mean were you...”

“Gay?” Seth laughed. “You can’t even say the word, when frankly this is all your fault. I was living in happy denial until you came along with your ‘it’s perfectly normal’s, ‘doesn’t make you gay’s, and your wife beaters and your... lips.”

“But you know what, buddy,” he continued, “eventually, when you don’t want to be with anyone else, when the sexy girl of your dreams becomes just a friend, when you drift off in class thinking of your best friend’s kisses, when you wish you could hold hands in front of your parents, go to Valentines Balls and, yes, get fucked and fuck forever and always, that. That. Makes. You. Gay.”

Seth laughed bitterly. “And we all know what Ryan Atwood thinks about being gay, don’t we?”

Ryan sat there in stunned silence. Ryan wasn’t very good at identifying emotions, so as he looked at Seth’s flushed angry and embarrassed face he took a moment to sort them out. He was surprised, no shocked, at Seth’s outburst. He was angry that Seth was blaming all this on him. He felt guilty about not understanding Seth’s feelings and letting his own prejudices box Seth into a corner. He felt... relieved that the problem that had gnawed at his guts for months now was something so... simple. He felt. Happy?

“Do we?”

Seth glared at him.

“Don’t mess with me Ryan. ‘It doesn’t make you gay’, ‘it doesn’t make you gay’. I get it Ryan, you’re not gay. And don’t bother me with your P.C. shit, Ryan. Don’t tell me you’re not prejudiced, because why else would you try so hard not to be gay, if you were OK with it?

“It’s not... I mean.... I just... God,” Ryan laughed, “I sound like you.”

“No Ryan, we’re not the same at all.”

“Don’t be so sure, Seth. I was trying to say, I guess, that... Well, no, I don’t think it is normal. Normal is a wife and two kids and I wanted that and I thought, I suppose, that wanting you didn’t mean that I couldn’t eventually have that. So it didn’t make us abnormal”

Seth looked at him.

“You wanted me?”

“No Seth, it was just a chore. Do dishes, homework, Seth. Of course I wanted you.”

“It felt like just anyone would do.”

Ryan sighed wondering how in the hell he’d been so insensitive and how Seth had been so stupid.

“Well, I guess, it wasn’t so much that it could have been anyone, more that it could have been any*thing*. It could have been two friends jerking off. It could have been experimentation. It could have been a passing phase. But in the end. It was this.”

“And what is this, Ryan?”

Ryan sighed, trying to work it out.

“I’m not sure. I guess... Do you know why I never said anything about finding the Yale letter? Because I didn’t want to hear you say you didn’t want to go with me. And do you know all those Yale girls that I pinned all my hopes of normality on? They didn’t turn out to be so great after all. Do you know that when I was with them I always pictured dark curly hair and a wide laughing mouth? And do you know the worst I’ve felt my whole life has been the past few months when you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to Ryan,” Seth finally came and sat down on the bed next to him. “It’s just I didn’t want to hear about the girl who finally came along and I didn’t want to hear from you, or my parents, how happy you were without me. And I didn’t want to give my heart to you for you to use as a training ground to keep your eye in.”

“I’m sorry, Seth, if it seemed that way. If you. If you want to give me another chance, I promise not to make you feel like I’m just killing time.”

Seth looked at him.

“I love you, Ryan.” Seth raised his hand. “You don’t have to say anything. Not ‘I love you’, or even ‘thank you’, but you should know that. And I trust you, too. If you just want me back in your life, you got it. You don’t have to put out just so I’ll be your friend.” Seth smiled at the thought. “Maybe I was punishing you in some way, but I think we could get past it. After all, Yale and Harvard aren’t so very far away.”

“But,” he turned to look at Ryan, “if we start this again, and you don’t think you can love me eventually, if not today, I can’t take that. So tell me now, and we can go down and play *Magic*, but otherwise we could stay here and...”

Seth’s voice was drowned out as Ryan pressed his lips to Seth’s. Ryan could say it now, if Seth wanted him to, but Ryan had always been a man of actions rather than words, and when he knew Seth believed it anyway, he’d tell him, just to be the icing on the Christmas cake.

Ryan smiled as he pushed Seth down on the bed.

Yes, he was sure. That was happy.

***

END

ANIMATED

Adam and Andy

Christmas Related Toons - by James Asal
(Due to size, these comics have been given their own page)

ORIGINAL SLASH

Krys/Adam

Author: Margaret Newman
Title: Astroglide, the Other Reindeer
Date: whatever date Kira chooses
Date written: 12/12/04
Fandom: Original
Pairing: Krys/Adam
Rating: R
Summary: Santa's youngest son finding love in the big city.
Disclaimer: I own them, ha! Their mine mine mine!
Feedback address: mereridkat@aol.com
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Note: No reindeer were hurt while writing this story.
Beta: PattRose1

"Astroglide, the Other Reindeer"

It was Krys' first full year living in the Big City. A whole year since he had last seen his family or talked to any of them. He knew he couldn't afford to make one single phone call to let his Mama know he was okay or even talk his next oldest sister Rebekah... One phone call was all they needed to locate him. How could he possibly make it on his own if they came and rescued him?

Though he was thinking that this whole "make it on his own" thing was highly over rated. The anger and indignation he had felt at his oldest brother Nicholas' patronizing, sanctimonious "you're the baby of the family" speech quickly dissolved the second time he had to scramble to pay rent. Or the first time he had come home to find his room-mate's druggy ex-boyfriend had stolen all of their stuff.

Well, he had a solid room-mate now even if Alan was a little on the eccentric side. He always paid his share of the rent on time, and none of his ex-boyfriends would ever dare to come sneaking back around. The only bad thing that Krys could think of with Alan was that he was Jewish and definitely not interested in the least bit of Christmas decorating.

It wasn't that Krys wasn't aware of other faiths and other paths, and it wasn't so much that he was devout Catholic or Christian. It was simply the fact that he had grown up living and breathing Christmas. You had to in his family. Christmas was, so to speak, the family business. He had never, not in all of his 120 years, ever not celebrated Christmas.

Even last year, after his mad dash away from home, and slipping unobtrusively into the City, he had managed even in a small way to celebrate Christmas. A plastic Christmas tree from the dollar store, a felt stocking made in China, cookies from Food Mart... it wasn't like home, but it had been good enough.

This year he had really looked forward to decorating and celebrating. Christmas parties, caroling, baking his own cookies, shopping for gifts... and all the merriment that ensued.

So decorating had been limited to his bedroom, and Christmas cookies (the ones that survived anyway) were quickly wrapped in plastic and hidden away in a cupboard. Mannheim Steamroller was relegated to his portable cd player. But he had gotten in with a group at work that was going caroling at the hospital on Christmas Eve.

The one thing he wasn't positive about was Charlie talking him into attending Lady Francesca's Christmas Ball - in drag. He had never dressed in drag, and wasn't sure that Christmas was the time to start. Just because you're gay, and possibly a hopeless bottom (he had to do more research), that doesn't mean you automatically want to dress as a woman, right? Charlie said it didn't have anything to do with being a hopeless bottom. Dressing up in drag was fun, and he was certain Krys would love it.

But he was working things out. He learned about Chanukah from Alan, and Winter Solstice from Bella, the Goth witch that lived across the hall from them. All in all, he felt that he was doing really well. Good job, some great new friends.

As long as you didn't take a good look at his love life- that was practically non-existent. This really messed up his research.

There had been dates, of course. Some making out. Not a whole lot of the sex thing. Charlie kept trying to set him up on blind dates but after the last one with some leather guy named Rod, Krys was learning to say "No, thank you" more emphatically.

His current problem, Krys contemplated as he jockeyed for position for the next elevator, was unrequited love with one of the company's exec's. Said unrequited love popped into view just to the left of Krys' gaze, and he sighed.

Tall, dark haired, lean, muscular body with a gorgeous smile and killer blue-gray eyes, Adam Birmingham was incredible. Krys slipped a little closer to him, and took a careful deep breath. And sighed.

Ah, yes. Old Spice today. Krys loved Old Spice. Especially when Adam Birmingham wore it. Alicia, Adam's secretary, said that Adam's grandmother always gave Adam Old Spice Aftershave for Christmas. Krys always sent up a "bless you, dear woman" thought whenever he could get a whiff.

"Krys!" Mandy Hughes grabbed his arm and gave him a yank. "Did you hear about Monica?"

"She and Chandler finally had a baby?" Krys quipped as he smiled at his friend. Mandy worked in the mail room with him.

"Not that Monica." She groaned, playfully punching him in the shoulder.

"Ah, the gossip crew." Gina Poletti smirked as she stepped up beside Adam. Krys cringed inwardly. This definitely wasn't the way he wanted Adam to identify him.

Adam, turned and glanced back at Mandy and Krys. He smiled pleasantly and shrugged at Gina.

"You can't have a business without gossip." He replied.

The next elevator arrived, and Krys refused to get on it with Gina stuck so firmly to Adam's side. As the doors were sliding shut, Krys glanced up to see Adam staring at him.

"What is wrong with you this morning? Haven't you had your mocha latte yet?" Mandy grumbled.

"If you paid more attention, you'd realize that Krys really isn't interested in being made fun of in front of Adam, the god-like being, Birmingham." This came from Joss Menzes, one of the many computer techies. Joss wasn't known for being friendly, but she seemed to like Krys.

"He looks so good in dark blue." One of the secretaries sighed.

"Hell, he looks good in anything." Another one snorted. "Have you seen him in jeans?"

"Who needs clothing on him? I'd rather have him naked..." Commented on one of the older women from Human Resources. She shook her head.

"Liz!" Her friend warned her, laughing.

"I hear he hasn't dated since his ex-wife ran off to Europe." That came from a deep male voice and everyone turned around to find William Birmingham, Adam's uncle and one of the CEO's of the company, standing behind them.

"Good morning, Mr. Birmingham." Krys was the first one to recover. "I stopped and got that magazine that you asked for." He pulled the plastic wrapped Japanese business magazine out of his book bag.

"Excellent." Mr. Birmingham nodded, taking the proffered reading material. "Give the receipt to my secretary, and she'll see that you are reimbursed."

"Yes, sir." Krys smiled. Luckily two more elevators showed up and everyone scurried.

The day went fast, and Krys had little time to worry about not having a date for Lady Francesca's Christmas Ball. As soon as he was done with work, he was rushing up town to meet Charlie for a shopping expedition. Charlie was determined to find just the perfect dress for Krys to wear. Krys wasn't sure one of those existed, but what the heck... Shopping with Charlie was always fun.

For dinner, Charlie insisted on sushi despite that they were both strapped for cash.

"If we share, we'll do fine." That was Charlie's usual solution. He had offered to share his vibrator collection with Krys, but that was where Krys drew the line. Boyfriends and sex toys were not for sharing.

They were enjoying themselves, right in the middle of some delicious tempura rolls, when Krys' heart was broken.

There, two booths away, was Adam Birmingham with two women. One was Gina Poletti, practically straddling his lap, and on the other side was some sleek platinum blonde with an incredible bust.

"They aren't real, darling." Charlie snorted over his chopsticks. "Not at that size, and look how perky they are."

"I'd rather not." Krys forced himself to look away, the fun of the whole evening having been dashed by one rather shrill female laugh.

Charlie could not revive his good humor, not even after offering a blow job.

It was on his walk home from the subway, that Krys heard an old familiar sound.

Reindeer bells?

Not just any reindeer bells. There were bells being rung all over the city, but these bells were special. These bells had a special tone. A magical quality.

His heart lurched in his chest, and he ducked into the nearest alley. He looked up at the sky, not that there was much he could see what with the clouds and it being so late at night. He checked the sidewalks carefully.

He knew what tricks could be employed. Just because he was the youngest one of the family, didn't mean he was the densest. His father and his older brothers often went undercover as bell ringers and department store Santas during the holiday to check on mankind and get a feel for the needs of the people.

Elves were a tricky lot too. They could blend in just about anywhere. The CIA and the KGB could have learned a lot from the IEA. They had limited shape-shifting abilities; they could change color, and outward sexual identity at will. They weren't all short and cute. There were some that Krys had known that could rival Adam, the god-like being. Five of his sisters had married such strapping, strongly built elves. His sister Lucia was married to the director of the IEA.

And there, Krys saw it, just a bare hint of brown fur and a flash of silver. Along the roof top across from his building. It had to be one of his brothers. Maybe Wilhem or Edward. How had they found him? He had been so careful.

"Evidently, not careful enough." A deep voice commented from behind him, and Krys yelped.

"Oh my god!" Krys grabbed his chest and danced out onto the sidewalk. "Don't do that!"

His father chuckled and stepped out of the shadows. He was dressed in jeans, black work boots, a maroon sweater and over that a heavy, buckskin coat with a sheepskin collar. His white hair was neatly trimmed, and an "Enterprise" baseball cap was firmly settled on his head. His father, despite being over 1,000 years old, was a raging Star Trek fan.

"Why not?" His father shrugged one broad shoulder. "I love the reaction."

"One of these days you'll make me pee my pants." Krys grumped, trying to catch his breath and calm his heart. He backed up further onto the sidewalk. "I'm not going home with you."

"Not tonight, I understand. I'm simply making sure you are okay." His father narrowed his gaze at him. Krys shifted nervously from foot to foot. "Your mother was worried that you weren't getting enough to eat, and I think she's right."

"I'm fine!" Krys protested. "I've been going to a gym and working out. Low carb diet, and all that. Besides, it's not like anybody down here makes cookies as good as hers."

"There's a shop in Newark that does pretty good." His father walked out of the alley, and waved up at the reindeer on the roof across the street. Krys could hear a slight tinkling of the bells.

"Well, this isn't Newark." Krys glanced around a little nervously.

"I'm alone, calm down." His father chuckled again, reaching for him and pulling him in for a bear hug. The top of his head was kissed before he was released. It was one thing he resented about his family... he was the shortest, not just of the boys, but of all the children. It really sucked when there were half-Elf nieces and nephews taller than you.

"I really mean it, Papa." Krys tried to sound determined. To his own ears, he sounded whiny. "I'm staying in the city."

"What, working in a mail room? If you want to do that, you can work in mine. My mail room is bigger than anyone else's in the whole world." His father rested an arm across his shoulders as they walked down the sidewalk towards his apartment building.

"It's my job. I found it. I'm not anybody special here. Not the youngest child, not the..."

"Do you really think I have a problem with you being gay?"

"Papa!" Krys cringed inwardly and outwardly and whatever way there was possible.

"Please." His father sighed. "Like I never noticed? And did you really think I wouldn't hear about what you nicknamed that one reindeer? Astroglide, for crying out loud!"

"That wasn't my fault!" Krys protested as he blushed a bright red. "Every time I went into the barn, there was Astro and Blitzen's son Joe-Bob going at it."

"And what about Geoff?" His father's voice lowered. Krys stopped walking.

"Who told you about him?" Krys looked at his father with a narrowed gaze.

"Excuse me." His father shook his head. "I quote, "he sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you've been bad or good..."

"Oh, god." Krys walked over to the light pole and banged his forehead on it.

"Please. Like I would want to watch that." His father shuddered. "I definitely do not want to see my children having relations with their partners, thank you very much."

"Well." Krys straightened up. "I can't come home for Christmas, I don't have vacation time. Next year, I can."

Oh, he wanted to go home for a visit alright. But he knew, once there, getting back here would be the problem. His family probably thought he was insane for wanting to live out here away from the magic and the whole lot of them.

"What do you mean you don't have vacation time?" His father frowned down at him.

"I've only been working this job for five months. In January, I have my six month review. Then I start accumulating vacation time." Krys explained.

"Well, this just won't do." His father shook his head and stomped the mud off of one boot.

"Papa, this is my life. My choice. I can't just up and leave." He had to stand firm or all would be lost.

Never see Adam Birmingham again? Even if he was straight and had women all over him. Boy, he sure had it bad.

"Who is this Adam fellow anyhow? I'll have to Google him when I get home."

"Oh, no you don't! You leave Adam out of this!" Krys threw his hands up in the air. "I have work in the morning. It's already past midnight. Geez, and I'm supposed to go for training on the new copy machines. You tell Mama I'm fine. Maybe I can come home for Easter. We'll see."

"Oh, we'll see alright."

His father was gone in a shimmering flash. There was the delicate jingle sound of reindeer bells, and then Krys could sense that he was once again, alone. He walked up to his apartment worrying about what his father would do.

*

He slept through his alarm the next morning and was ten minutes late to work. He jumped onto the first available elevator and then heard someone yell, "Hold that elevator!"

He pressed the door open button just in time. Adam Birmingham came rushing up.

"Thanks, man!" Adam fell against the fall wall, panting. "Didn't think I was going to make it."

Krys quietly pushed the button for his floor, and for Adam's. No Old Spice today. Today was some rather oppressive scent... like Joop or something.

"You're late." Adam said as he straightened up. "Late night?"

Krys wondered if Adam had seen him at the restaurant with Charlie. Did it really matter?

"My father caught me outside of my apartment building, and we talked for a bit." Krys shrugged. "My friend and I had gone shopping for something special to wear for a party."

He definitely couldn't see Adam attending a gay drag ball.

"Sounds like you had a better time." Adam grinned. "Taking two drunk women home is not my idea of fun."

The elevator stopped at Krys' floor. He stepped off.

"Have a good day, Krys." Adam called before pressing the door close button.

Have a good day? Krys grimaced. Yeah, right.

*

The night before Christmas Eve, Charlie decided they needed a trial run of wearing their heels for the ball. Krys thought he was insane, but wearing the heels was not as easy as women always made it look. After work, he went over to Charlie's apartment when they were going to get ready. Charlie had had a dark blue velvet dress for Krys to wear.

"You're supposed to wear it not pet it." Charlie snarked from the bathroom doorway. He had his hair pulled back in a net, his corset on with the gel-filled balloons. His legs, armpits and forearms were shaved. Luckily for Krys, he'd only have to shave his legs.

Krys sighed. He hadn't seen Adam all day, and there was a new rumor that Adam was going to be transferred to the new Melbourne office. He might as well go home if Adam would be moving half the world away.

Charlie muttered something and threw a wet washcloth at Krys. "Strip, will you! We don't have time for you mooning."

Shaving his legs was an interesting exercise in concentration and finding out just how limber he really was. With only two nicks, Charlie proclaimed him a natural.

Then Charlie shoved him into a pair of pantyhose. That was something "Little Krys" wasn't really appreciating. Little Krys had nothing on his feet.

Here they were in some dark dance club, his ears pounding, his nose burning from the cigarette smoke - and he was stuck on a stool afraid to move. His feet hurt, his penis had gone numb (at least it didn't hurt anymore?), and his legs itched.

Charlie called this fun?

Of course Charlie would, he was off dancing and had been ever since they had walked in.

Krys had had a few guys come by and chat with him, but no one had asked him to dance yet. He wasn't sure what the problem was, he had freaked himself out in a window reflection. Who was that woman standing behind him? Except that it was him. He so hoped that his father wasn't picking up any visions on this escapade...

"Hello." A nice, but familiar male voice breathed in his direction.

Krys turned and if he had been standing he would have fallen over. It was Joseph, an IEA agent, and also his sister Bernadette's brother-in-law. He was dressed in black leather pants, a black shirt with silver threads shooting through it. He looked absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous.

"You going to sit there all evening, gorgeous? Or will you dance with me?" He stepped close, and took hold of Krys' right hand.

"Uhm, I don't-." Krys stammered. "Oh, dear-."

"The lady is with me." Another familiar male voice interrupted, and suddenly a strong, muscular male arm was settling around Krys' waist.

He was afraid to look up, but -sniff, sniff- yes, it was definitely Adam.

*Oh dear god*

"You sure, buddy? She's been sitting here a long time by herself." Joseph frowned, not looking the least bit pleased.

"I've been remiss in my duties, and for that, I will apologize." Adam took hold of Krys' right wrist, and jerked his hand free from Joseph.

"Ary'kdai'chev." Joseph whispered almost inaudibly, and stepped away into the crowd. It was an Elven word, which meant a lot of things, but in this context it was a warning to Krys, "You are being watched and protected."

"I didn't know you would be here tonight." Adam shifted around to face Krys. His gaze traveled over Krys' face. "You are incredible in blue."

Krys felt his face flush, and he nervously fidgeted with his hands. He had objected to the fake nails, but Charlie had insisted on painting them. He had a bracelet on his left wrist, and Charlie had pushed a few rings onto his fingers.

"Uhm, thank you..." Krys was terrified to look up at his face. What if Adam really thought he was a woman? Wouldn't he be disgusted? Adam was straight... except, as Charlie had pointed out, this was a well known gay dance club where almost all of the women were "trannies".

"Would you like a drink? Or shall we dance for a whi