December 16

CRIME:

Crossing Jordan - Bug/Woody/Nigel

The Gift of the M.E. by Tinnean
The story has been given a separate page due to length.

CRIME:

Sentinel - Jim/Blair

Author: Patt
Title: Should I Stay, Or Should I Go?
Date: Your call.
Fandom: Sentinel
Pairing: Jim/Blair
Rating: NC-17 (For language and sex.)
Summary: The boys get stuck in an elevator and Blair is driving Jim nuts. Big shock, eh?
Disclaimer: I had a dream that I owned Jim and Blair. Then I woke up and reality hit. Then depression.
Feedback address: PattRose1@aol.com
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Beta: Thanks once again to Mary Browne.
Author's Notes: A zine story from Essential Sentinel 3, never published on the web before.

Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

"Chief, come on. We're going to lose him. He went this way. If you plan on Christmas shopping, you better get hopping." Jim ran around a building and Blair wanted to remind him of how different it was when you couldn't see in the dark. Instead, he followed and entered the building right behind Jim. // I'll show him Christmas shopping. //

"Shit, he went upstairs. I'm not taking the stairs. Come on, Chief," Jim got on the elevator and stood there waiting for Blair.

"Come on, what could happen?" He reached out and grabbed Blair's jacket and pulled him on as he pushed the button to go to the top of this building.

"Why the fuck did you go and say that, Jim? Jesus, I can't believe you're forcing me into this." Blair was pacing in an elevator. Something both Blair and Jim didn't think could be possible. "Calm down, Sandburg. God, you act like I've never taken you on an elevator before." Jim just stared at Blair like he had grown a second head. "First of all, at the loft, I know someone will get us out. Then at the station, there's the damn telephone right there inside of the lift. So I always knew that I was safe more or less." Blair went back to his pacing except he was picking up speed. "Are you saying that you don't feel safe with me?" Jim made him stop pacing and looked him in the eyes. "Jim, you make me as safe as you can, but you didn't even check out this building. It's really old. And have you noticed how fucking slow this elevator is going?" By this time Blair was almost ready to smack Jim upside the head. "Have faith, Sandburg. The building only has twenty floors, and we're almost on ten, so there you go. We're halfway there. What? What?" Jim was stepping back as Blair tried to smack him. Then the worst thing in the world happened. The electricity went out, the elevator lurched and both men fell to the floor.

"Man, this is not good. This is not good. This is not good." Blair found himself not getting up, just curling into a ball repeating his mantra. "Sandburg, it'll be all right, stop worrying," Jim paused to listen and was cocking his head, then said, "Shit. The suspect's laughing and is now going down the stairs and probably out the door. Fuck " Jim's head went back and hit the wall of the lift when Blair hit him in the chest. He'd gotten up, after all.

"I hate you sometimes, Ellison. I really hate you."

"Jesus, Sandburg, it's not like we're going to die here or anything." Jim stood back up and was starting to look at the panel. "How do you know, Jim? How old is this elevator? How old is this building? Better yet, do you hear any heartbeats? Is there anyone in this building? Or did you follow the idiot into an empty building and now have us stuck in the friggin' elevator." Blair stood with his hands on his waist and dared Jim to answer any of the questions.

Jim stood perfectly still and listened for heartbeats, noise, anything. // Fuck, I hate it when he's right. // "Sandburg, you'll be glad to know that you're right again. It's a fucking empty building and I have no idea when anyone will come to help us. Where's your cell phone?"

Jim held his hand out expecting to receive a cell phone; instead he received a slip of paper. Jim was able to make out what the paper said and just stared at Sandburg.

"You took you cell phone to the repair shop today? You couldn't have waited until tomorrow?"

"Where's yours, Jim?"

"I left it in the truck." Jim started pacing now. "How badly could you get hurt if this elevator fell ten stories?" Blair was pacing next to Jim. "Why are you asking that? We're not going to get hurt. We're going to be fine. I'm going to get us out of here, Chief." Jim stared up at the ceiling and Blair followed his line of sight. "No, man, I don't want you to go out that little hole. What if you fell? Just stay here and we'll wait for someone to help us." Blair wasn't happy with his whiny attitude but he was scared to death. I guess falling down a shaft once in your life's enough to make you afraid of any elevator problems.

"Blair, everything will be fine. I'm just going to go up there and look around and see what I can figure out. I'll be right back, okay? You can think of all of the great presents you're going to buy for me."

"It's not like you care what I think anyway. And I'm not buying you anything."

Blair slid down the wall and sat on the floor with a loud thud. "Sandburg, that's not fair. I do so listen to you and you know it. This won't take long. I promise. And I want prezzies." Jim started climbing up the walls and got to the hatch. He pulled it down and started climbing through. Once he got on top of the lift, he got his bearings and listened for any type of sound.

He found the elevator cable and started to climb it. God, I'm getting old. This is a lot harder than it used to be. As he continued to climb, he heard a very soft mantra coming from Blair.

"Please don't fall, Jim. Please don't fall, Jim. Please don't fall, Jim."

Jim stopped climbing and didn't know what to do. He was torn and he knew that he should just get this all over with, but there was that Blessed Protector part that wanted to go back down and calm his Guide. Shit Then Jim heard a new mantra.

"Jim, don't leave me. Jim, don't leave me. Jim, don't leave me."

Jim started sliding back down the cable and got to the elevator and jumped down. "Shit. Why not scare a guy to death, Jim?"

"Way to say thank you, Sandburg." Jim pulled him into his arms and found an unwilling person in them. "Ellison, get back up there. Don't come back for me. And why are you listening to me anyhow? That was private. So go and get us out of here." Blair stood over to the other side of the car.

"You know what? You drive me nuts. I never know what I'm supposed to do with you around. If I go up there, you'll be all hurt and if I don't, you'll never let me hear the end of it." Jim was honestly confused and it showed in his actions, too. He didn't know what to do. He was afraid to touch Blair now, since his Guide had pulled away from him. "I don't care if I drive you nuts. Just get on up that cable and get us out." Blair pushed him towards the hatch area.

"Let's be sure, Sandburg. Are you sure you're all right with me up there?"

"I'm fine; now get out of here." Blair sat down, crossed his legs and began chanting for meditation. "Good idea, Sandburg. I'll be back as fast as I can," Jim climbed up once again and began climbing the cable. He was smiling as he thought about how surprised Blair was going to be when he saw his present. It was worth spending more than their agreed limit. Blair had always wanted a Jags Jersey. Now he was going to have one. On each floor, Jim would try and get a door open, hoping one would budge. He listened to see if Blair was still meditating and couldn't hear much of anything. He turned up his hearing and could tell that Blair's heartbeat was entirely too fast. Oh fuck. He's hyperventilating.

Jim started sliding back down the cable and just forgot all about the fact that he was up seven floors. He got on top of the elevator and said, "Chief, it's me. Just wanted to warn you,"

Jim jumped into the car and Blair went into his arms. Jim could feel the tremors and held him even harder. "You okay, partner?"

"Yeah, I was just worried. I was all right, Jim. I just wondered when you would be back with good news." Blair moved away from him finally. "Well, the thing is, Chief, I only made it up seven floors and then I heard your heartbeat going too fast and it scared me. So I came back." Jim started walking towards Blair again to just calm him down somewhat.

"I don't fucking believe it. You got us stuck in this fucking elevator and you've come back because of something you heard from me? Fuck! I wish I could get you to listen to me at the loft, man. Now, I'm not going to say this more than once. I'm going to kick your ass if you don't get back up there and do something about getting us out. Now " Blair shoved Jim toward the wall where he would be doing his climbing again. "Wait a minute, Chief. I'm really tired. I've found out one thing for certain. I'm way too fucking old for this shit. But I need to know something for sure. Should I stay or should I go? I need the truth and then I'll go. Or I'll stay." Jim stood there waiting for something from Blair.

"You should go. I really want you to go and don't listen to anything unless it has to do with getting out of here. Please go." Blair pushed him again. "Fine. But I want you to know that I don't feel good about it." Jim started climbing. // I'm going to rethink your gift, butt head. // "I'm not some fucking woman who needs you to take care of her. Get a grip, Ellison," Blair said as he went back into his meditation.

"I can't win " Ellison climbed the cable faster. This was a nightmare he wanted out of soon. While he rested for a second, he listened to see how Sandburg was doing and heard him talking to Joel.

"Joel, I know you'll understand. I think you knew how scared I was. Then again maybe not. Not one of you acted like it was a big deal. I wanted to tell all of you to hold me and tell you how scary it was. But I knew I couldn't do that. Guys don't do that. And I'm one of the bullpen guys. I've tried to be tough. Hell! I am tough. But I'm really afraid of elevators and falling from heights. You would be proud of Jim. He's putting up with me, even though he'll probably never talk to me again. God, I hope I get out of here. I know that Jim will. Once he finds a way out, he'll go get help. I'll try and be brave. I'll try and be patient. And I've got to keep my heartbeat beating normally in case he's listening. I know you can't hear me, but I've loved working in Major Crime. If I don't make it, I'll miss you all. Could you keep an eye on Jim for me? Thanks for everything, Joel."

Then Jim heard a tape recorder going off. Jim wiped tears off of his face as he started back down. The large man was tiring so it was taking a lot longer than before. He finally got to the bottom and climbed through the hatch.

"Hey, Chief," Jim pulled Blair into his arms and held him close.

Blair could feel the tremors coming from Jim's body and wondered what was going on. "Jim, please tell me you weren't listening and came back without help."

"No, it was me this time. I'm really sorry. I was freaking out up there. It was like being blind and I was afraid I was going to fall. I'm sorry I let you down."

Jim still kept Blair close to his heart.

"Man, your heartbeat is pounding. Calm down, big man," Blair rubbed Jim's face and talked softly to him. When he felt the moisture on Jim's face he became concerned. "Jim, are you sure that's all that's wrong?"

Jim pulled away from Blair and went to the other side of the elevator. "There's nothing wrong. I just felt like having someone hold me. I'm not used to being so out of control. Sorry, Chief." Jim leaned into the wall and started to smack his head against it. // You idiot! We're still in the fucking elevator. //

"Come here, man." Blair opened his arms up and Jim walked over and knelt down. "I've got you. It's all right to get scared sometimes." The young man rubbed Jim's back as he held him and then leaned down and kissed the top of Jim's head. He finally got to feel how soft Jim's hair really was. Jim began to pull away but Blair wouldn't let go of him. "Jim, you're going to stay in my arms until we both feel better. Okay?"

So Jim did the only thing that seemed to come naturally. He snuggled up with Blair and wrapped his arms around him. "Thank you, Blair. I needed this." Blair was shocked when Jim didn't pull away but instead moved closer into Blair's arms.

"Jim, have you ever been scared to death?" Blair wondered aloud. "Sometimes I get so scared that I can't remember how to breathe." Blair looked into Jim's eyes to see what he thought of that. "Chief, every time I think I might lose you I can't breathe right. Just because I don't show it, doesn't mean I don't feel it." Jim touched Blair's face and then leaned down and kissed his forehead. Blair pulled back and calmly asked, "Is that a poor Sandburg peck on the forehead?"

Jim grabbed Blair before he could get away from him. "Sandburg, I never do anything for anyone because I feel sorry for them."

Blair moved back into his arms and said, "Then why did you kiss me?"

"Well, hell! You kissed the top of my head earlier. So it must be a guide and sentinel thing," Jim smiled at coming up with the cause.

"Wrong, big man. I kissed you because I felt the need to be as close to you as possible, so I just did it. Did it bother you?"

"No, I like when you touch me and show me that I mean something to you." Jim continued to rub Blair's back while they talked. Blair looked over at Jim and realized that Jim was going to be stubborn about this whole thing. "So if I would have died in that elevator, what would you have done?"

Jim jumped up and started pacing. "Holy fucking shit, Sandburg. What a horrible thing to say. Now I'm going to have that fucking nightmare in my mind for the rest of the week. What's wrong with you?" Jim stopped pacing long enough to look hard at Sandburg.

"Sit back down and talk to me," Blair commanded.

And as always, Jim listened. He sat down, not as close this time but at least he looked like he was going to discuss it with him.

"For some reason, you want to know what I would have done if you had died in that elevator? Is that what you're asking?" Jim looked over at Blair with a very pale looking face.

"It means something to me, Jim. Just talk to me." Blair moved a little closer and waited for Jim's response. Blair could see Jim shaking already. He didn't know that it would be that difficult for his roommate.

"Fine. I would have fucking lost it. I know they would have all gathered around me and taken care of me. But who would have taken care of me at the loft? Everything about you keeps me sane," Jim had his head down and there were tears falling from his face. "You almost sound like you love me or something," Blair pushed a little more. "There's nothing wrong with loving your roommate. Don't you love me?" Jim begged him to answer in a casual way. "Yes, I love you, too." Blair pulled Jim into his arms again. Blair laid down on the floor and pulled Jim on top of him. He could feel the large man trembling and he finally said, "Relax, Jim. Things will be fine. We just need to get some sleep."

"Before we sleep, can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything, Jim." Blair's sweet smile made Jim feel better.

"If I would have fallen off that cable tonight, what would you have done?" Jim stared into Blair's eyes and saw such sadness.

"Jim, I would've just died. God, I love you, man. And not the way you love me. I would feel like a part of me had gone." Blair couldn't hold back any longer. He started crying softly and hoped that Jim wouldn't hate him too much. Jim moved his face very close to Blair's and kissed his lips. "I love you, too. And not the roommate way." Jim kissed Blair until both men were out of breath. As the kissing grew more aggressive, Jim started humping against Blair's body and was moaning. "Jim, wait "

"I'm sorry, Chief. I'm so sorry," Jim started to get off of Blair. Blair stopped him and pulled him back down. "That's not what I meant. I want to do this at the loft. In a bed. I don't want our first time to be in a dusty elevator." Blair pulled Jim's face down and kissed him again. "Well then, stop kissing me. Jesus, I'm only human." Jim smiled but was still rubbing his body against Blair's. It was more like bouncing against each other now. Blair decided that he was going to have a fucking memory that would make him hard just thinking about elevators, and he started to get into it then. He pulled Jim's shirt off and Jim pulled his off. A sentinel loves to touch, smell and taste everything, so Blair knew he was in for a good time. Jim stood up and took his clothing off and he liked the look on Blair's face as his guide watched him strip. Blair took his clothing off, too, and Jim lay back down on top of Blair and they began rubbing their erections together. They kissed as they built up until they pounded into each other, moaning sounds of passion into each other's mouths. Jim was getting closer and closer, so he leaned in and chewed Blair's neck. Blair lost it and came with a loud yell; Jim followed right behind. That was all he needed, the smell from his love's come. They both lay there getting their breath back and finally Jim moved and got an old shirt out of Blair's backpack to clean them up with. "Man, why that shirt? That's my favorite knock around shirt," Blair whined as he saw the soaking garment. "Well now it can be your favorite knock around shirt that smells like we just fucked." Jim almost laughed at the cute look on his mate's face. "Did you think it was only going to be this once?"

"I was hoping not, but I didn't want to force you into anything. I love you, Jim." Blair couldn't hold him hard enough to show his love right then. Both men got dressed and, during the process, kissed every now and then, reminding themselves that they were now, indeed a couple. "Hard question, Chief,"

"What?" Blair looked at the man he loved with nothing but trust. "We can't stay here all night long. I need to have you tell me if I should stay or if I should go."

"You should go but you have to promise me that you won't fall." Blair looked over at him with misty eyes. "I'll be back in a jiffy, Chief. I promise you." Jim leaned down and kissed the man who was no longer just his friend and roommate. And damn glad of it. Jim climbed though the hatch and started on his way up the cable. This time it seemed to be going faster. He was so grateful for that.

He stopped to listen for a moment to make sure that things were as all right as he thought they were. He could hear Blair's voice.

"He loves me. Do you fucking believe that? Who would have thought? Man, I hope it's not a pity thing. But I don't think Jim does pity things. That's what he said anyhow. He might really be in love with me. This will be something good to write in my journal. In case you're listening, Jim, I love you like crazy."

Jim smiled and continued to climb with a big goofy smile on his face. Once he got to the top, he got the door open and climbed out. As soon as he got out and dusted off, the door closed. He could hear Blair down in the elevator.

"Jim? Jim? God, Jim, be all right. Yell so I can hear. Okay?" Blair was pleading quite loudly by now. Then Blair heard his love's voice. "Blair, I'm fine. I came through the door and the fucking thing shut on me. So I'll call Simon and everyone else. We'll have you out in a jiffy." Jim started running down the stairs, not seeming to even notice the shortness of breath. There was only thing on his mind, and that was getting Blair out safely. Jim called Joel, Simon, Rafe, Brown and Conner. They were all informed of the situation and he waited outside the building, hoping that would hurry them up. Remember... a watched pot never boils.

When everyone got there, Jim stopped them all and said, "I need to tell you something about that last elevator ordeal." Jim proceeded to tell them that Sandburg wasn't as strong as he showed sometimes. He didn't need to elaborate much.

"Okay, we've got it, can we go get Sandy out now?" Conner didn't wait for an answer; she tore into the building ready to kill anyone who would even consider hurting her friend.

"She thinks she's his mom," Simon laughed, heading behind her.

Joel walked in and said, "Let's find the power supply first off."

Jim felt really stupid for not thinking of that. Ellison, you know what you were thinking about.

Joel turned the power on and the elevator began running again. It stopped on the first floor it passed and Jim could hear Blair cussing at it as he got off. Jim started for the stairs and Simon said, "Let us handle this one. He's one of us."

"Okay," Jim just smiled as they all started up the stairs.

As Blair rounded the third floor, Major Crime engulfed him.

"Thank god you're all right," Simon pulled Blair into a big bear hug and held on to him for quite some time.

"Hey, we all want a turn," Joel called out as he pulled Blair away from Simon and hugged him even harder than Simon did. "You gotta stop doing this, Blair. I hate hearing about you in elevators. Promise?"

"I promise, big guy." Blair realized that he might actually fit in with the guys. Conner, Rafe and Brown each took their turn and asked how he had stayed so calm. "I was a wreck but Jim calmed me down. He stayed with me a lot of the time because he knew I didn't want to be left alone in the damn thing." Blair started down the stairs and didn't mind them all touching him, at all. When he saw Jim he didn't care who was there; he rushed up to him and went into his arms. "Thanks for not falling, man, and thanks for getting that elevator running again."

Everyone was quiet when they realized that this could be a problem. "Chief, I didn't do it, Joel did," Jim was still holding on to Blair and then just as quickly Blair was gone.

"You didn't turn on the electricity so that I could get out?" Blair just looked at him with his mouth hanging open.

I'm sorry, Sandburg, I had other things on my mind. If you remember correctly," Jim blushed as he reminded him.

"Hey, I'm sorry, man. You did a good job, Jim. Thanks," Blair finally seemed to calm down.

"You're very welcome. Want to go home?" Jim smiled a sexy smile.

"Oh Ellison, your truck isn't out here." Brown said it with a snicker in his voice. "Jim, tell me you didn't leave the keys in your truck?" Blair pushed him in the chest as he asked. "We were just going to be there for a second, right? I mean, who would have thought we'd be here for five hours," Jim tried to explain to everyone. "You guys have been here for five hours? What did you do to keep yourself from going crazy for five hours?" Simon asked and expected an answer but when he saw his blushing detective, he decided that the answer was more than he wanted to know. "Come on, Jim and Blair. I'll give you a ride home." Joel put his arm around Blair and walked out the door. "You devil, you. He's so into you, if you hurt him, we'll kill you, Ellison. Understood?" Conner didn't like threatening friends, but no one was as special to her as Sandy. "How the hell do you know about it?" Jim really did want to know what or who it was that gave it all away.

"I asked him out and he told me he was in love with you." Conner smiled at the shocked look. "He had to tell someone, mate."

"Thanks, Conner." Jim stepped out of the door and felt alive again.

When he got in Joel's car, it was in the front and Blair had a very hurt look on his face. "Jim, I know you're a couple, you can sit in the back with Blair." Joel just thought he would state a fact. "Thanks, Joel, but Blair really needs a shower," Jim said, laughing.

"Bite me," Blair countered. Jim climbed over the seat in a second and began to kiss him like wild, and Joel just laughed. Maybe Jim thought it was an invitation.

When they got to the loft, they couldn't get into the shower fast enough. Jim washed Blair and Blair washed Jim. Both men were hard and ready for action once they got up in bed. After drying off, both men rushed up the stairs for the fun to start. Blair landed on the bed and stuck his ass up in the air. It was all Jim could do to keep from coming from that alone. He walked over and knelt behind Blair and began to lick his crevice, the cheeks pulled apart so that he'd be able to get his tongue going in further. Jim began to lick and suck all around Blair's center and then finally entered it with his tongue. Blair was making the most wonderful sounds and that was making Jim almost come, too. "Jim, make love to me. Please?" Blair pleaded.

The older man reached for the lube he'd never needed for a guy before, and a condom from his stash, and started to stretch Blair. With each finger, Blair would end up fucking himself on Jim's fingers. Jim had to keep taking deep breaths so he wouldn't come without being inside. "Jim, make love to me now." Blair was still pleading. Jim put the condom on and put more lube on it so it would make entry easier. "Blair, if this is too painful, say the word and we'll stop. Okay?"

"Do it, Jim. I want to feel you now. God, I need you inside of me," Blair went from pleading to begging. Jim entered Blair slowly and found that Blair was doing fine. He'd just go slow. As soon as he was in all the way, he began moving more. "Jim, I'm not going to break. Fuck me hard." Jim noticed that this sounded like a plea, rather than an order. "I could do that," Jim began to pound into Blair's ass, making both men shout with ecstasy. Jim reached around and grabbed Blair's cock and started stroking it, firmly. As Jim could feel his balls tightening up, he lowered his sense of hearing in case. He was really glad because Blair called out his name so loudly that the neighbors must have heard it. Jim only thrust two more times and he was coming, calling out Blair's name. Blair finally just fell onto the bed and Jim, of course, went with him. They lay there for a long while before Jim finally pulled out of him. Finally, one of them moved. "Now wasn't that better than what we did in the elevator?" Blair rolled on his side and pulled Jim in for a kiss.

"Hell, yes! I had a very good time," Jim smiled and went into Blair's arms. "I love you," Blair kissed the top of Jim's head as he held on to him for dear life. "And I love you," Jim said as he started to fall asleep. "Man, I don't want to ruin the mood, but I'm sleeping in the wet spot," Blair said getting up heading for the stairs. "I'll change the sheets," Jim made the bed while Blair cleaned himself off. He brought a cloth up to clean Jim up, too. Then they curled into each other's bodies and fell asleep.

Life was indeed good.

They would both worry about Christmas shopping in the morning.

End: Should I Stay or Should I Go?

CRIME:

Miami Vice - Crockett/Tubbs

Author: Caliadragon
Title: Waking Up Isn’t So Bad
Date: December 16
Fandom: Miami Vice - Criminal
Pairing: Crockett/Tubbs
Rating: PG 13
Summary: Rico and Sonny spend Christmas Eve together.
Disclaimer: Not Mine.
Feedback address: Caliadragon1@myself.com
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Note: This is the first time I have written in this fandom, like most of the stories I have submitted this is little more than a drabble.
Beta: Edi the Wonderful

Waking Up Isn’t So Bad

The yacht rocked gently in the water as the alarm clock chirped in warning yet again. Sonny sighed in frustration and silently hit the button before sitting up and climbing out of bed. Just as he was heading for the galley to make coffee a voice yelled to him from above. “Crocket, you up man?” Sonny grinned and changed directions, going the stairs to meet his partner.

“I’m up, I’m not happy about it, but I’m up.” Sonny growled out as he took in the sight of his partner. Tubbs smiling in amusement at him, same as every morning.

“So what are we doing today?” Tubbs asked as his friend came out of the cabin and joined him on the boat.

“Not a damn thing, it’s Christmas Eve and I for one don’t want to do anything. What about you?” Crockett asked.

“Well I thought we could go for a spin in the yacht and maybe do a little celebrating of our own.” Rico said with a grin.

Sonny smirked, “How about we forget the spin and get to the celebrating?” Sonny asked with a grin of his own.

Sonny and Rico had been lovers for only a short while. It happened after Sonny was once again injured on the job. They were sure that he wasn’t going to make it this time. For Rico it had been a revelation of sorts. He had been Sonny’s partner for a few shirt years and while he had always been attracted to the other man, he had never made a move. Like everyone he assumed that Sonny was straight.

Thankfully on a recent case Sonny and Rico had had to pretend to be lovers. After the first kiss, it had gone from acting to reality. They had managed to bust the dealers and escaped unscathed. Afterwards they had decided to continue to see one another and feel out where things were going between the two of them.

Now they were going to spend the holidays together, just the two of them, and hopefully they would be able to take their relationship to the next level. Rico stood and walked to the entry to the cabin of the yacht and turned to look at Sonny, a devilish smile on his face.

Sonny was no longer irritated by having to get out of bed at eight a.m. in fact he was happy about the fact that he was awake. Though going back to bed had taken on a whole other meaning of happiness.

The End

SCIENCE FICTION

Stargate SG1 - Jack/Daniel

Title: Shelter from the Storm
Author: Hathor
Show: Stargate: SG-1
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Feedback: ladyraistlin@hotmail.com
Status: Complete
Rating: PG-13
Category: First Time
Warning: None
Spoilers: None
Date: 15 December 2004
Archive: Written as part of the Slash Advent Calendar 2004. This story is embargoed for other archives until December 30th 2004 – please ask permission first.
Author Website: http://www.squidge.org/~hathor/
Disclaimer: Sadly these characters are not mine, but Daniel haunts my dreams.
Summary: Caught off-world, Jack and Daniel seek shelter

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Shelter from the Storm ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The wind howled around the pair of men, biting at any inch of exposed skin, cutting through the shelter of their small two man tent. Daniel clutched the survival sheet tightly as the Colonel clicked his radio once more, frozen fingers reluctant to obey his commands.

“Carter, come in?”

Daniel strained to hear Sam’s voice reply over the maelstrom swirling around them. Silently he cursed PX07-194 and its damned erratic weather systems. Scowling he snatched at a lifted corner of the sheet that was letting precious heat escape.

Feeling Jack’s arm settle around his back once more, he looked over to his friend with a questioning look.

“They’re doing ok, Daniel. Teal’c managed to find a small overhang which is giving them some shelter. More than we have, that’s for sure.” Jack looked ruefully at where the floor of the tent undulated as the strong wind tried to get beneath the canvas and rip it up into the air.

He felt, more than heard Daniel’s snort of combined relief and self-derision at their predicament. The wind howled once more, making Daniel feel that for all the world he was wearing some of Carter’s fancy Christmas wrapping paper, than thick standard issue BDUs. The thought made him smile, yet he guessed it appeared as more of a scowl.

Jack took in the look on Daniel’s face.

“Lousy way to spend Christmas Eve, huh?”

Daniel nodded, giving an involuntary shiver as he cast his thoughts back to his warm and inviting apartment. He had planned to spend tonight with a good Merlot, Christmas presents that needed wrapping and a CD of seasonal Gregorian chants. Or ‘death chants’, as Jack called them.

Daniel was broken from his reverie by a curse from Jack. As his friend scrambled out from under the survival sheet he followed his gaze. The corner of their tent, the only thing standing between them and certain hypothermia, had started to lift clear of the ground.

Jack growled and then started to unzip the front of their shelter.

“What the hell are you doing?” Daniel yelled, grabbing Jack’s hand.

“I’ve got to secure that line,” Jack replied, raising his own voice to make himself heard over the storm. “If I don’t this whole thing might just take off!”

Daniel shuffled forward on his knees, unable to stand due to the height of the tent. “It’s sub-zero out there. You’ll freeze to death.”

Jack gave him a grim smile. “I’ll have a few minutes before...”, he trailed off. “Well a couple at least.”

Daniel started to shrug out of his BDU jacket with the intention of offering it up to Jack, to act as another layer of protection.

“No way, bud,” Jack said, stopping Daniel’s hands with his own. “One of us needs to stay warm and dry.”

Daniel frowned at him, before shaking his head. With a sudden thought, he began to rip open the pockets on his trousers. A couple of moments later he bundled soft leather into Jack’s hands. Jack looked down to find Daniel’s leather excavation gloves. Worn almost butter soft through years of grubbing in the dirt, they looked inviting against the artic temperatures outside.

Pulling them on, Jack’s eyes locked with Daniel’s and a silent communication passed between the two. Then a moment later, a blast of freezing air hit Daniel as Jack stepped outside. Almost unconsciously Daniel started marking time. By his reckoning Jack had only three minutes tops before the cold would render him incapacitated.

Time seemed to slow.

The cold air that Jack’s exit had let in was causing Daniel’s breath to condense on his glasses, making the second hand on his watch seem to blur and lag.

“Come on, come on,” he urged underneath his breath.

One minute had passed, and still the wind seemed to buffet and twist the corner of the tent. Silently urging Jack on, Daniel focused on the tent, watching for signs that Jack had gotten the thing under control. Glancing down at his watch, he noted, with rising panic that two minutes had passed. Was he imagining it, or indeed had the corner of the tent had begun to tame against the onslaught of the vicious wind?

“Jack...” he whispered fervently.

Flicking on his small halogen torch, he began to tighten the fastenings of his BDUs. Crouching by the entrance to the tent, he shone the torch light at the fastening, acting as a beacon to Jack. Daniel counted down the last few seconds.

Crouching as he reached up to undo the entrance, Daniel was unprepared for the six foot of frozen Colonel that tumbled into him.

“Jack!”

The Colonel lay where he had landed, half on top of Daniel. His teeth were chattering and his nose, ears, lips and cheeks almost bleeding from the rawness of the wind.

Daniel swore violently. Quickly resealing the entrance to the tent, he threw the survival sheet over Jack. Well versed in survival situations, thanks to his SGC training, he quickly began rubbing Jack’s limbs, convincing the blood to speed up its circulation, therefore warding off frostbite.

Jack yelled in pain, making Daniel wince. Rolling him over onto his back, he continued his ministrations, pleased to note that Jack was at least still shivering. Shivering meant that his body hadn’t started to shut down.

Jack moaned.

“Cold?” Daniel asked.

The lack of a witty reply worried him.

Deciding that enough had been done, Daniel settled down to the side of Jack, pulling the older man’s back flush against his body. The survival sheet seemed almost inadequate for the task, but as best he could Daniel tucked it around Jack.

Jack’s shivers had become almost violent in nature. Holding him close Daniel bore little heed to the spasms. Remembering Janet’s lectures on shared body heat, Daniel quickly began to undo the buttons on Jack’s BDUs.

“Wha-what-cha d-doing, Danny?”

Daniel made a hushing sound, ignoring the gasp of shock as his cold hands slid across Jack’s muscular torso. They wrapped tight around Jack, as Daniel’s open BDU jacket, partially covered them.

Despite the initial shock, Jack sank into the inviting warmth, his body enjoying the feel of Daniel’s t-shirt clad body pressed up against his own. Still the gentle, warm hands covered his chest and abdomen, in what only could have been called a possessive manner.

Warmth breath crept around his neck as Daniel’s booted foot, eased a leg through his own.

To both of them, the sound of the storm seemed to fade to background noise, as they focused on each other. It felt as though the world had narrowed to just the two of them, cocooned away inside their clothes, a single silver sheet and piece of canvas the only protection from the unforgiving elements. To Daniel, to hold Jack like this felt almost surreal. To Jack, it felt almost too real. If the storm didn’t abate soon, he knew their chances of survival were slim.

Daniel felt Jack start to shift in his arms and released his vise-like grip. With relief he noted the vague colour on his friend’s face, nose and lips. An indication that the blood flow was once again returning.

Jack followed Daniel’s gaze, involuntarily licking his frost torn lips. Noting his friend’s ragged breath at the action and spurred on by the desperate situation, Jack made a decision.

Bringing a shivering hand up to Daniel’s face, he dropped the final barriers. Looking deeply into Daniel’s eyes, for the first time he allowed his emotions to show through. As strong as the elements outside, they left Daniel slightly shaken but in no doubt.

“Jack...?” he breathed.

“Daniel,” came the whispered reply as Jack closed the remaining distance between them.

Dried, rough lips sealed together. At first stubble scraped against skin, until the wet velvet feel of mouths and lips joined. Power and emotion coursed through them both, until physically they could get no closer.

Daniel shifted against Jack, smothering him with his weight and warmth. A smile graced his face as his hip bumped against Jack’s groin and the steely heat to be found there.

With renewed enthusiasm, he pinned Jack down, moving against him until the older man squirmed beneath him.

Daniel broke them apart and with a mischievous tenderness looked down at Jack.

“Merry Christmas,” Daniel whispered above the buffeting of the tent in the wind.

“Shut up, Daniel,” Jack replied, as a hand shot up and curled around the archaeologist’s neck, pulling him back down to Jack.

Any protests that followed were swallowed up by Jack’s mouth and the storm outside.

~*~

A beautiful and calm morning broke on PX07-194. Greens and purples streaked over the sky, promising a crisp but sunny day.

Daniel woke to the sound of soft snoring against his left ear. Smiling with satisfaction, he gently stroked the hair away from Jack’s forehead.

“Felt that...” came the mumbled reply.

Daniel smiled, placing a kiss on the bare neck presented to him. His tongue flickered out to taste the skin, the musky scent of sleepy O’Neill filling his senses.

Too soon, the moment was broken by the radio crackling into life.

Jack looked across at a slightly crestfallen Daniel as he reached for the unit.

“After we gate out, how about we continue this with Christmas dinner, my place?” he asked.

Daniel granted him one of his rare smiles, before shyly replying, “Yousurebetcha.”

~*~

The End

SCIENCE FICTION

Star Trek TOS - Kirk/Spock

Author: Jas Masson
Title: The Correct Response
Date: 16th Dec 2004
Fandom: Star Trek: TOS/ Sci-Fi
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: K/S
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money, blah blah
Feedback: jasmasson@yahoo.com
Advertisement: part of the Slash Advent Calendar 2004 http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Summary: Spock knows the correct response

The Correct Response

***

Kirk had been looking forward to the Christmas Eve party in McCoy’s quarters.

There would be a ship wide gathering tomorrow for the Human-Christian crewmembers in lieu of families left at home. However, as Captain he felt he needed to retain a certain dignity at these gatherings, and couldn’t really relax there as much as he would like. He was therefore looking immensely forward to the small gathering of senior officers and good friends.

As all cultures and traditions were respected within the Federation, usually a large number of non-Christian Humans and Alien races joined the celebrations.

Speaking of which...

“Spock! Merry Christmas.”

Kirk opened the door to his quarters in response to the buzzer to find Spock.

“Merry Christmas, Captain,” he replied formally.

Kirk motioned him inside.

“How are you enjoying the Christmas festivities, Spock?” Jim asked with a smile.

“Most illuminating, Jim. I have researched the significance of Christmas for Humans extensively, but it is fascinating to see it put into practice.”

“Fascinating,” Kirk thought with a smile of what Spock would make of Scotty dressed up as Father Christmas tomorrow.

“I wished to speak with you, Jim, before the gathering at Dr McCoy’s.”

“Oh yes?”

“I have consulted my mother on what might be an appropriate gift for a friend.”

At this Spock produced a box wrapped in gold paper.

“Spock!” Kirk said in delight. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome, Jim,” Spock replied. He continued talking as Kirk opened the gift.

“She told me that jewellery and flowers were inappropriate,” Kirk stifled a smile at the thought. “That clothes may be acceptable, so long as they were not intimate apparel, and were either definitely to the other’s taste, or had some personal significance.”

Kirk had an intake of breath at the silky shirt he unwrapped. Exquisite material of a goldy-green reflecting in the light.

“Yes,” said Spock with a note of satisfaction, glancing from the shirt to Jim’s face and back again, “I believe you will find that is the exact color of your eyes.”

“Thank you, Spock.” He was moved by the present, but as always with his first officer wondered how much he should really read into Spock’s behavior. “Your mother must have had quite a busy time. I also contacted her about an ‘appropriate’ gift for a friend.”

He fished in a drawer and brought out a small gift.

“Thank you, Captain.”

Spock opened the gift and inside was a small icon of intertwined gold and silver strands.

“Jim. Thank you, this is most... appropriate.”

Kirk smiled at the Vulcan’s dispassionate choice of words, when he could definitely see a rather un-Vulcan spark of pleasure on the strong features.

“Your mother and I thought so. She told me this is the symbol of... esteem between Vulcans. Where you respect and admire the other. A symbol of a bond of trust. I figured that was Vulcan for friendship,” he grinned.

Spock raised an eyebrow at the gentle dig at his culture.

“From what I have seen of Mr Chekov and Mr Sulu when passing the mess this evening, it does appear superior to the Earth expression of friendship which seemed to comprise of plying each other with poisonous substances until the onset of unconsciousness.”

Kirk laughed. “Speaking of which, we’d better head along to McCoy’s, to meet him and Scotty, where you can see *real* experts at that game, played with the finest brandy.”

“I shall watch with interest.”

***

They set off together down the corridor, passing a number of crewmembers, who wished them a Merry Christmas.

“Merry Christmas,” they replied, “Merry Christmas,” “Merry Christmas.”

“And a Happy New Year,” Spock added on one occasion.

Kirk raised an eyebrow as this improvisation.

“I have made extensive research into the appropriate response to Christmas activities. I understand that ‘Merry Christmas’ can be answered with the same, or extended to include a ‘Happy New Year’. I understand that it may be appropriate to wear brightly colored hats. Also, that people may possibly expect recompense in return for disturbing you and singing a few bars of unsophisticated and often out of tune songs. Most oddly, I am also lead to believe that should one be presented with a small, cylindrical, paper devise containing explosives, that the correct response is to pull it.”

Kirk spluttered a chuckle. “Yes, I suppose that does seem a little odd.”

“Indeed.” Spock shrugged slightly in response to the bizarreness of human behavior. “However, I am confident that I shall be able to react appropriately at Dr McCoy’s ‘party’.” Spock appeared to be trying the word out for size in his mouth.

“I’m sure you will.”

They reached McCoy’s door and knocked.

As the door opened and they stepped through, it became clear that McCoy and Scotty had been indulging in an ‘expression of friendship’ for some time as they both began howling with laughter, and pointing intermittently at Kirk and Spock, before clutching their middles in helpless paroxysms of hilarity.

Kirk turned to look at Spock, a little unsure of what to make of this himself, and eager to see Spock’s reaction.

Spock was regarding him calmly.

And without any warning at all, Spock inclined his head to press his lips against Jim’s.

They were warm (hot!) and somehow both firm and soft at the same time and utterly shocking.

A few heartbeats passed and then Spock straightened.

Kirk was peripherally aware that McCoy and Scotty had both stopped laughing and were staring at them, open-mouthed. Mostly, however, he was staring at Spock’s lips.

He only tore his eyes away when Spock gestured ‘up’ with his chin. He looked up to see mistletoe hanging over the doorway.

“I believe that was the correct response,” Spock said and calmly went to sit down.

Kirk stood gaping at him, along with Scotty and Bones, until he finally found the sense to sit down himself.

***

The evening, to be honest, had not gone quite as Kirk had expected. McCoy and Scotty seemed to get over their entrance quickly and began regaling Spock with tales of Christmases past. Spock himself clearly thought nothing of it at all, and responded to McCoy’s tongue-in-cheek comments on the superiority of Human culture with his own special brand of Vulcan ‘jokes’.

Jim, for his part, had spent most of the evening either staring at Spock’s lips or deliberately *not* staring at Spock’s lips, and wondering if Spock would know the correct response to a game of spin the bottle.

The end of the evening came, as Spock had indirectly predicted, with the onset of unconsciousness for one of them. Scotty, as it happened, and so Kirk and Spock left him sleeping on the Doctor’s couch as they left.

“Jim,” Spock spoke as they walked along the corridor, “I feel I need some clarification on some of the more obscure parts of Christmas culture. Perhaps you could accompany me to my quarters and explain one issue to me?”

“Of course.” Jim, probably because he thought alcohol on severe shock was not a good idea, had not indulged in a great deal of brandy. He was still quite sober enough to be quietly amused by Spock’s request. If it had been anyone other than Spock, he would have assumed he had just been propositioned. *The old ‘Christmas Culture’ line, eh?*

“It is to do with the mistletoe,” Spock said as they approached his door.

Kirk groaned, inwardly. Of course. Couldn’t be about carol singers or figgy pudding, oh no.

“Yes?”

“My understanding about human culture is that the correct response to kissing is often to proceed to more intimate exchanges.”

*Don’t blush. DO NOT blush.* “Yes, that’s true.”

“Is this the case with mistletoe-induced kissing, or does this particular seasonal circumstance supersede normal practice?”

“Uh. Well, I suppose that the mistletoe is a way of, um, encouraging kissing. And then the people can decide if they wish to pursue the more... ‘intimate exchanges’.”

“I see.” Spock pondered this for a moment. “And how does one tell, if the kissing is not in itself a clear sign, if further exchanges are appropriate?”

“Well, er, perhaps the passion and length of the kiss, I suppose.”

“I see.” Kirk could see the next question coming, and wondered if he’d have to give it in seconds to two decimal places. “And how long would indicate further activities?”

“It’s difficult to tell Spock,” he said, hopefully with finality. “If you start counting in minutes it’s probably a good sign.”

“I see,” Spock opened the door to his cabin.

Over the doorway was a large sprig of mistletoe.

“Would you like to come in and put this into practice for me, Jim?” he asked, stepping through the doorway and turning to face Jim expectantly.

Kirk stood for a moment considering all the reasons why this was probably a bad idea.

“Sure.”

He stepped inside and as the door closed behind him, pressed his lips to Spock’s. The kiss was passionate, tender and definitely lasted more than a minute.

As he pulled away, he wondered if it was odd that he should feel such a swell of affection at the thought that his partner could probably tell him how long it had lasted in seconds to two decimal places.

“I love you,” he said, without really thinking.

“I love you, too.”

He felt a moment of uncertainty.

“The correct response, Mr Spock?”

“My heart’s truth, T'hy'la”

END

SCIENCE FICTION

Stargate SG1 Sentinel X-over  - Jack/Teal'c + Jim/Blair

Author: Patt
Title: In The Middle of The Night
Date: Your call.
Fandom: Stargate SG-1/Sentinel
Pairing: Jack/Teal'c Jim/Blair
Rating: NC-17 (For language.)
Summary: Jack O'Neill calls Jim Ellison in the middle of the night. Someone's had too much to drink and had a fight with Teal'c.
Disclaimer: I had a dream that I owned Jack and Teal'c. Then I woke up and reality hit. Then depression.
Feedback address: PattRose1@aol.com
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Beta: Thanks once again to Mary Browne.

In The Middle of The Night
Patt


"Get out." Shouted Jack O'Neill loudly.

"O'Neill, you are overreacting." Teal'c replied calmly.

"Stop telling me that I overreact. Just get out of my life. Go home. I don't want to be your lover anymore." Jack stood, shoved Teal'c out the door and then slammed it shut. Then he proceeded to begin to get himself good and drunk.

It all started because Jack was pushing Teal'c as usual. He wanted more. He wanted to get married and Teal'c found that foolish. They were two men, after all. Jack had told him that he didn't think Teal'c loved him enough and Teal'c had laughed. Jack was still shaking and wondered if he was in shock.

The more Jack drank, the sadder he became and he did the only thing that came natural. Call an old lover and cry in his ear.

It was 1:00 a.m. when the phone rang. Jim Ellison lifted it up and muttered, "Ellison."

"Hey Jimmy. Whatcha doing?"

"Jack?" Jim asked sitting up, suddenly wide awake and Blair was now wide awake also. "What's wrong?"

"He left me. He doesn't love me. I wanted to get married and he laughed." And then tough Jack O'Neill began to cry. He never cried when Jim was with him.

"Jack, this isn't a good time." Jim said quietly as Blair glared across the bed.

"Oh right. You're only my best friend and now you're going to shit on me too. This is turning out to be a great day. Crap... I hate crying."

"Where are you, Jack?"

"I'm at Cascade Towers. Room 431. Can you come and talk to me? Please?" Jack begged well.

"I'll be there in a few minutes, Jack. Hold on." Jim hung up and began to dress.

"I just know you don't think you're going over to an old lover's hotel room. I just know it." Blair snapped.

"Chief, it's been over for years. He was crying for Christ's sake. I have to go and help him. Jack never cries."

"Not unless I go too." Blair stomped his foot like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Forget it. I'm not a child, Sandburg. You either trust me or you don't." Jim got ready to leave.

"So you're leaving? You don't care about how I feel?" Blair sounded whiny even to his own ears.

"I can only take one drama queen at a time." Jim pushed Blair aside and walked out the door.

"I'll show you drama queen, you ass." Blair screamed out the doorway, then pulled back in and slammed the door three times. // That's right, Sandburg show your age. That's drama king to you, Mister Ellison. //

Blair threw himself onto the sofa and wished he could have himself a good cry. But he couldn't because Jim was right. Geeze, he hated when Jim was right. So Blair would make sure this was never mentioned again.

At Cascade Towers:

Jim knocked at the door and could smell the liquor outside of the door. // Not a good sign, Ellison. //

"Jimmy, come on in. God, I've missed you." Jack hugged Jim over and over again.

"Jack, stop calling me Jimmy. It's Jim or I'm leaving."

"Fine. Geeze, be a big ole stick in the mud. Guess what?"

"I can't even guess, Jack." Jim realized he hated drunks.

"Teal'c left me. He fucking left me. Just left me sitting here on the bed and said he didn't want to marry me." Jack sniffed, but wasn't crying, making Jim very happy indeed.

"Who is Teal'c?"

"He's my lover. God, he's so sweet. Loving, kind, sweet, precious and has a body like a god. Did I mention he's an alien? He is. From another planet and he left me." Jack looked so defeated.

"I take it you did get that program up and running to travel from one planet to another. Remember I was working with you years ago?"

"That's the one. They call it the Stargate program. It's fantastic. It's where I met Teal'c. It was love at first sight. He saved my ass and we've loved each other since."

Jack then proceeded to tell Jim all about the Stargate program and Jim knew that he would be sorry in the morning, but for right now, it was fucking interesting.

Jim held Jack as he talked and they just relaxed. Jim found himself thinking about them. // As in Jack and Jim. He missed him. Did that mean something? What about Blair? Could he just stop loving Blair so that he could be with Jack again? I don't think so, you moron. // Jim had been very close to kissing Jack. He pulled back and came to his senses, as it were.

At the loft:

Blair heard a very soft knock at the door and opened it expecting Jim. Instead he found a gorgeous black man, huge and bulging with muscles. There was some sort of tribal tattoo on his forehead that was quite striking. Finally, he took his eyes off of the hunk and asked, "Can I help you?"

"You are Blair Sandburg?" Blair found this God to have a voice as rich, deep and beautiful as his body.

"Yes, may I ask who you are?"

"My name is Teal'c. I belong to Jack O'Neill."

Blair grabbed his hand and shook it and said, "Come on in. So you two had a fight, did ya?"

"He heaved me out of the room and told me to never come back. He was very angry." Teal'c explained.

"Sit. Here, have some water. Now what did he say that pissed you off?" Blair was playing devil's advocate so he would get his own boy back.

"He wants us to be married."

"And? What else?" Blair asked.

"That is it, Blair Sandburg."

"You broke up because he asked you to marry him? I would give anything to have Jim ask me to marry him. He said we'd never get respect at work." Blair was looking sadder by the moment.

"This is true. This is why I told O'Neill no. I do not want them being vicious to him. He is a good man and deserves nothing but good things."

"And you told him all of this?"

"He said I did not love him enough." Teal held the water to his head, as if he had a headache.

"Headache?"

"Yes. I do not normally get them but tonight has been stressful. The water is helping, Blair Sandburg. The cool touch is helping."

"You could just call me Blair."

"No, I would rather call you by your entire name. As I would call Jim Ellison by his. Or perhaps I would call him a thief of hearts." Teal'c looked like he was going to cry.

"What do you mean? Jim is with me."

"Jack talks of him daily. He is still in love with him. I fear I have lost him tonight. And now your Jim Ellison is over at the hotel."

"Watch this, Teal'c." Blair picked up the phone and said, "Where are they. I guess that would help." He snickered as he dialed and waited for an answer.

O'Neill answered and growled, "What do you want. I'm fucking busy."

"Let me talk to Jim Ellison, right now." Blair ordered.

"We're busy." Jack slurred his words.

"Put him on the phone, or I'll kick both of your asses. NOW!!!"

Teal'c was smiling like mad now. Blair Sandburg was indeed a pistol.

"Chief? What's going on?"

"Jim, do you still love me?"

"Of course I do. Why?"

"I want to get married. What do you say to that?"

"We've discussed this before, Blair. I don't think anyone would respect us after we stand up and do that."

"Then we're done. I'm moving tonight. Say goodbye to your friend and partner. Maybe Jack could move in."

Blair slammed the phone down and waited. He counted out loud, "One, two, three, four..."

The phone rang and the answering machine picked up and Jim said, "Chief, I know you're there. Pick it up. I need to talk to you. You're moving nowhere. I'll be home in a few minutes and I'll bring Jack. I take it Teal'c is there? I heard his, well, you know what I heard. Tell him to stay put too. And yes, I'll marry you."

"Teal'c, did he just say he would marry me?"

"Indeed." Teal'c smiled at the energetic man.

"I think you should marry Jack, too. If you really love him, show him."

"I will consider it, Blair Sandburg."

Blair hugged Teal'c close and said, "I really like you. Jack is a very lucky man."

"And I you, Blair Sandburg. Jim Ellison must indeed be a contented man."

The two men began to talk until the door opened and in walked Jack and Jim. Jim saw the look on Blair's face and knew he was worried about Jack being good looking. He knew that his mate was worried about not being good enough. Jim was going to cut him off at the pass.
He pulled Blair into his arms and began to kiss him with such passion that Blair could hardly gain his breath.

"Man, what brought that on?" He asked with a brilliant smile.

"You are the one I love, Blair. Only you. You're everything I need. You're everything I want. And I would be pleased to marry you."

It was Blair's turn to kiss Jim this time. He pulled away and said, "How about this weekend? February 20th? That way Teal'c and Jack could stay."

"You two want to stay?" Jim asked both men.

"We could. If Teal'c wants to stay."

"On one condition, Jim Ellison. You will need to come up in two weeks to be Jack's best man when we get married."

Jack went into Teal'c's arms and held on for dear life. "I love you so much, big fella."

"And I you, O'Neill."

"Could I talk you into calling me Jack when you read your vows?" Jack teased.

"I would do that for you. Do not ever push me away again."

"I promise." Jack kissed him once more and found Jim and Blair smiling at them. "What are you staring at, Ellison?"

"Two men in love. Can't help but stare. Jack, would you be my best man?"

"I would be honored." Jack quickly hugged him and then hugged Blair. Teal'c did the same. It seemed like the proper thing to do.

The rest of the evening was spent calling all of their friends and relatives about the wedding. Jim was most grateful that he didn't sleep through the call that had come so late.

Everything was working out. Everyone was happy. Everyone was in love. Yes, it pays to wake up in the middle of the night.

End: In The Middle of The Night

FANTASY

Smallville - Lex/Clark

Author: Raijahn
Title: My December
Show: Smallville
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: R
Spoilers: None
Summary: Lex gets an unexpected lesson in love.
Word Count: 10,287
Date of publication: December 16th, 2004
Disclaimer: For entertainment purposes only. I don’t own them, because if I did? They’d run away from all the angst and torture I put them through.
Feedback address: raijahn@hotmail.com
Beta: SadietheNymph, Kitkat3979, Strangefancy
Note: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar of 2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Author Note: Many hugs, kisses and thanks go out to:
Strangefancy, for helping me with ideas, giving me masses of encouragement, putting up with my endless questions about pool and helping me go over all the changes I needed to make.
Kitkat3979, for giving me new ideas to work with, encouraging me with kind words and not being afraid to rip the story to shreds during beta.
SadietheNymph for last minute beta, for general encouragement and begging me to make it all better.
Hyperfocused, for willingly answering my out of the blue, random questions. *smooches*

MY DECEMBEr

December 1, 2007

Clark groans softly as he starts to wake, rolling onto his stomach and pressing his erection into the bed. He doesn’t want to wake up, doesn’t want to leave the dream he’s having...

—Lex has him tied to the bed now and he can’t move. Can only lie there and watch as Lex slowly strips and climbs in between Clark’s spread legs. Sitting back on his heels, Lex starts to slowly stroke his cock, whispering all the dirty things he wants Clark to do to him, the he wants to do to Clark. Clark moans loudly and pulls at the cuffs that trap his arms above his head, his cock thrusting into the air. Lex is stroking himself faster now, hips thrusting forward, biting his lip and whining in the back of his throat. Clark can see Lex’s balls draw up and tosses his head back and forth, his cock aching and leaking precome. Lex is going to come any minute now, he’s going to cover Clark’s body with thick ropes of come and it’s going to make Clark come so hard—

Clark jerks awake as his alarm clock goes off, blasting Avril Lavigne into his ear. He reaches out and starts to slam his hand down on the snooze button but checks the motion before it hits. Rolling onto his back in the resulting silence, he looks down his body at the erection tenting the sheets and sighs. It just figures, now that dreaming about sex is the only way he’ll get any, his stupid alarm clock would go off, waking him before he gets to come.

Scowling he shoves the sheets aside, ignoring the empty side of the bed and the resulting twinge of pain it causes. He should be used to it by now. It’s been months since he actually woke up to find Lex still in bed. Months since Lex touched him with any romantic or sexual intent. Now he’s forced to live vicariously though his dreams and he can’t even get that right.

Sitting on the edge of the bed he sighs, the small flare of irritation fading, leaving behind only loneliness and a crushing hurt. He’s not sure how much longer he can take this. He feels as though he’s living with a stranger. Someone he eats with, talks to and sleeps in the same bed with but someone who doesn’t really see him. At least, not anymore.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he gets up and trudges into the bathroom, stripping out of his boxers and t-shirt before stepping into the shower and turning the water on. As it heats up he remembers times when one of them would be late because they would shower together, which would inevitably lead to sex. Bracing a hand on the wall, he lets the scalding water wash over him and grasps his still throbbing erection, his hand moving in fast strokes. Jerking off in the shower usually leaves him feeling empty and near tears, but this morning it can’t be helped. After that dream... His body shakes as his cock pulses and spills come over his fist.

As he watches the come swirl around in the water and down the drain, Clark wonders when exactly his relationship with Lex ended.

***

Dressed in a red t-shirt and blue jeans, Clark walks barefoot into the kitchen, pushing aside feelings of anger and hurt when Lex doesn’t even look up, too intent on watching the latest LexCorp news on CNN, today’s Daily Planet on the table in front of him. Hearing Lex curse softly, Clark wonders how many points the stock dropped this week. It’s one of the reasons Lex hasn’t been around much lately, one of the reasons he now works almost seven days a week. One of LexCorp’s new inventions was sold to LuthorCorp by the guy who spearheaded the project. Nigel something or other. The last couple of months have been hell for Lex, he’s sure. Not that he knows firsthand or anything.

Pulling out a box of cereal and the milk, he remembers when Lex would unwind from his day with his head in Clark’s lap, bitching about stock prices or the Board of Directors or the latest scheme by his father to overthrow his son’s company. He’d seek reassurance that not playing by his father’s rules was the right thing to do, that he could still be a good businessman without any underhanded trickery. Clark would stroke his fingers across Lex’s forehead and over his temples soothingly, silently listening until Lex wound down. Shaking his head minutely, he takes his bowl of cereal and glass of orange juice and walks over to the kitchen table, sitting across from Lex. He can’t remember the last time Lex came home and didn’t immediately shut himself away in his study.

Clark looks at the newspaper blocking Lex from his view and frowns. “Morning, Lex.”

Lex makes an acknowledging sound and turns the page. Clark scowls down at his cereal. Why he thought today would be different...

Lex folds up the newspaper and finally looks at Clark, his brow furrowed. “Don’t you have class today?”

Clark feels a twinge of annoyance at Lex’s tone. Maybe if you paid attention to my schedule, hell to me, you’d know. He wants to say that to Lex but instead just shakes his head. “It’s Saturday and besides, it’s winter break, my last class was yesterday.”

Lex nods absently, his attention back on the TV. Clark feels an urge to get up and smash his fist through the damn TV and demand Lex’s attention be on him, but he knows that would only piss Lex off. And how would he explain it? Obviously Lex doesn’t even know that there’s anything wrong with their relationship. Otherwise he’d do something about it, right?

Clark sighs again and forces himself to eat despite having lost any appetite for food. He doesn’t know why he thought today would be any different. Just because he has more than a month off before school starts back up again... He pushes aside his half empty bowl and clears his throat. “Lex?”

“Hmmm?”

Clark hesitates for a second. “Can we... can we talk?”

“Of course, Clark.” Lex pulls his gaze away from the TV and looks at Clark expectantly.

Clark shifts in his seat, resting his elbows on the table, wishing he saw more of himself in Lex’s gaze. He opens his mouth to tell Lex all the things he’s kept inside for months but before he can utter a word, Lex’s cell rings. Lex holds up a finger as he pulls it from his pocket, “Just a minute, Clark, this may be important. Lex Luthor,” he snaps into the phone, frowning as the other person tells him something that has Lex barking orders like a general and leaving the kitchen. A couple of minutes later Clark hears the front door open and slam shut. He folds his arms on the table and drops his head into them, fighting off tears.

All he can think is, aren’t I important, too?

***

Shutting the door to the penthouse, Lex drops his keys into the dish by the door and sets his wallet next to it. Rotating his head, he winces when his neck pops painfully and he takes his coat off, hanging in up in the foyer closet. This had to be the longest Saturday he spent at the office, ever. The rumors about Nigel’s deal with LuthorCorp, the dropping stock prices, the board members demanding to know how Nigel was able to get away with it, why Lex didn’t know about it and stop it... He rubs the bridge of his nose and ignores the dull throb behind his eyes.

Walking down to his study, he’s vaguely aware that there should be lights on by now but brushes the thought away. As his mind flips through all the reports and project files he has to go through tonight he passes the den, and stops, frowning. Backing up, he looks around inside, certain that something is missing. Fingers tightening on the handle of his briefcase, he steps inside what has always been known as Clark’s game room. He rubs a hand over his face, fighting off the stress and exhaustion that’s keeping him from seeing what caught his attention. Dropping his hand to his side, he looks around again, finally noticing that the room is nearly empty. His pulse leaps in his throat. Clark’s stereo, his playstation and all the games, his DVDs, even the books he kept on the bookshelf. All gone.

He drops his briefcase and runs down the hall to their bedroom, sure that this has to be some kind of mistake. Maybe someone had broken into the penthouse and...he stops inside the bedroom door. Taken only Clark’s stuff. Panic spreads through him, his pulse racing, his breath coming out in pants. His laptop, his plasma TV, his iPod, all there. But nothing of Clark’s.

Walking quickly to the closet he opens it, his knees going weak at the absence of Clark’s clothes. Stumbling back he sits down on the bed, finally seeing the note on Clark’s nightstand addressed to him. Hands shaking, he picks it up and tears it open, pulling out the single piece of stark white paper. He reads quickly, his panic increasing with every word, until he’s almost sure he’s having a heart attack. His eyes move over and over the words until he can no longer see them through the blur of tears.

...can’t do this anymore, Lex. You don’t even see me now. You don’t hear me. You haven’t for months. I might as well not even be here for all the notice you take. It wouldn’t even surprise me if you didn’t notice me and all my stuff is gone until after you leave your study to go to bed. That is, if you don’t fall asleep there...

...We’ve known each other for six years, been together for almost three and I’ve never felt more invisible than I do now. So, I’ve moved out. I can’t live here with you anymore, not like this. I bet you can’t remember the last time you touched me. I know I can’t...

...Things will be better this way, you’ll see. You don’t need me anymore and I can’t continue living with the stranger you’ve become...

The letter and envelope fall to the floor and Lex closes his eyes tightly, tears falling down his cheeks. He wonders when exactly he’d started taking Clark for granted.

***

December 2, 2007

Martha opens the door slowly, cringing at the creak of old hinges as she checks on her sleeping son. She leans against the doorjamb and smiles sadly, blinking back tears. Clark’s curled up on his side, one hand outstretched as if reaching out for something. Or someone. She thinks back to the day before, when she was washing dishes and his voice came out of nowhere...

“Hey, Mom.”

The softly spoken words startle her but it’s nothing compared to how shocked she is by her son’s haggard appearance when she turns around. His shoulders are hunched in and his face is streaked with drying tears. The circles so dark under his eyes they look like bruises.

“Oh, Clark,” she breathes, hurrying over to him, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

He shakes his head and his Adam’s apple moves up and down as he swallows hard. She stretches up on her tiptoes and gathers him into her arms, closing her eyes when she feels his body start to shake with suppressed sobs. She hasn’t seen him this heartbroken since Jonathan died last year. Letting go, she leads him over to the couch and pulls him down next to her. “Is Lex-“

“Everyone’s fine,” he whispers brokenly. “But I left Lex.” He looks at her sadly. “You can’t be mad at him, though. It’s not his fault. It isn’t anybody’s fault. I guess it’s the way it’s supposed to be. I don’t think things were supposed to work out between us.” He closes his eyes and rests his head on her shoulder, his breath hitching softly. She strokes her hand over his curls and swallows back her own tears. The boys have already been through so much together. She can’t imagine anything breaking them up now.

“Clark...” she sighs softly, unsure of what to say, what to do.

He sits up and kisses her cheek. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m going to go lie down. I love you.” She watches him as he trudges upstairs and prays that Lex comes soon...

That had been over a day ago and Clark has spent most of the time sleeping. Lex has yet to call or come by and Martha has about had it. Shutting the door quietly, she walks back downstairs and into the kitchen, picking up the phone. Punching in Lex’s cell number, she listens to it ring only twice before hanging up. No matter how worried she is about them, Clark would never forgive her for interfering. She’s just going to have to be patient and wait.

Setting the phone back down, she goes to the fridge and starts to pull out ingredients for dinner. She’ll give Lex until eight ‘o clock to be here and then all bets are off.

***

Lex fumbles in his coat pocket for his cell phone when he hears it ringing. Flipping it open, he sags in disappointment when all he hears is the dial tone. Pressing the end button, he checks the caller id and sees the Kents number. A wave of relief flows through him. At least Clark is somewhere Lex can find him. There are so many places Clark could have gone, so many places Lex wouldn’t be able to reach...it’s enough to make his stomach clench in fear.

Clark’s been gone for more than a day now. Lex hasn’t slept, trying to figure out how he could have let this happen. How he could have made the one person who matters more than anything in his life, feel like he doesn’t matter at all.

Still wearing yesterday’s clothes, he paces into the kitchen, grabbing a Ty Nant from the fridge. As the water soothes his throat, sore from swallowing back so many tears, he comes to a decision. Gabe will think he’s crazy and if his father finds out about it... but that doesn’t matter. Because he can’t lose Clark, not like this. He has to fix this. Now.

Paging through his phone book, he highlights Gabe’s home number and hits send. Listening to it ring on the other end, he shifts impatiently from foot to foot.

“Hello?”

“Gabe? Lex. I need your help.”

***

Clark wakes slowly, his eyes fluttering open, lashes stuck together with dirt and brine. He rubs his hands over his face and eyes as he tries to remember why he’s sleeping in his old bed at the farm. Memories bring with them new pain. His throat swells and his eyes burn with tears.

Pushing himself up, he swings his feet to the floor and braces his hands on the bed, head hung low. As tears drip onto his thighs, he berates himself for crying again. There’s no reason for it. He made the decision, followed through... this is what he wanted, so why is he still crying?

He looks up at a knock on the door and wipes away the tears, trying to smile at his mom.

“Dinner’s ready, sweetheart. Do you feel up to eating?” Her voice is soft and so full of loving concern, Clark finds himself in tears again, swallowing rapidly around the lump in his throat. A small sound of pain escapes him and then he’s being held tightly in arms that have always been able to chase away his hurts. It’s unfortunate that his mom’s love isn’t going to be enough to chase away the pain this time.

After a few minutes he pulls away, looking down at his lap as he rubs his face on his shirt sleeve. His mom pushes his hair off his forehead, resting his palm against his cheek. “Do you want to talk about it?” she questions quietly.

He shakes his head. “Not right now.” He takes a deep breath and looks up at her, trying again for a smile. “What’s for dinner?”

She smiles softly. “Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, fresh corn and my canned peaches. I even made apple pie for dessert. All your favorites.” Clark smiles back sadly. They were all Lex’s favorites, too, and he’s sure that didn’t escape his mom’s attention.

Before he and Lex got together, Lex used to find some excuse to come over on fried chicken nights. Claiming he needed to discuss something with Clark or he needed to make some change to the produce order. Clark’s mom would always invite him to stay and Lex would graciously accept, giving her the ‘real’ Lex smile that Clark was so used to seeing directed at him. One night, his mom laid her hand upon Lex’s cheek and told him in her soft mother voice that he was always welcome for dinner, that he didn’t need an excuse to come over, that he was family. The stunned, open look on Lex’s face in that moment was incredibly precious and Clark never forgot it. He’s pretty sure that was the night he realized he was in love with Lex.

His smile softens at the memory and he gives his mom a big hug. “That sounds great, Mom. I’ll wash up and be right down, okay?”

She squeezes him tightly and pulls away. “Sure, honey.” Stroking his face again, she smiles and then goes back downstairs. He waits until he hears her feet leave the stairs before getting up and walking into the bathroom.

Clark turns the cold water on and splashes his face over and over, washing away the grief and tears. Shutting the water off, he braces his hands on the porcelain sink, watching drops of water splash against the rim. Glancing up into the mirror, he notes the bruised circles, the dull color of his eyes, the pain that seems to tighten the skin around his lips. Dropping his eyes back down to the sink, he shoves away the many questions that have haunted him for months. Pushing up from the sink, he grabs a towel and dries his face off roughly before going downstairs for dinner.

***

Lex pulls up in front of the Kent farmhouse and shuts off the engine, pulling the keys out of the ignition. But instead of getting out, he drops his head back onto the seat and rubs a hand over his face. He has no idea how he’s going to do this, but at least now he’ll have the time. He left Gabe in charge of the company, leaving instructions that he’s not to be disturbed unless it’s an emergency that only he can take care of. It’s unheard of for a CEO to take an entire month off, especially with all that’s going on at the company. Lex will do anything to keep Clark, even if it means leaving his company to Gabe and becoming just another one of it’s employees. Now he just has to convince Clark of his sincerity.

Taking a deep breath, he steels himself for what’s to come and climbs out of his car, the beep of his car alarm sounding incredibly loud in the quiet night. He turns towards the house and his step falters when he finds Martha waiting for him at the foot of the stairs.

“Lex.” Her voice is soft and her eyes sympathetic. Though that doesn’t confuse him nearly as much as the warm hug she gives him. He can’t help but close his eyes and burrow into her arms. He really has no right to her comfort after what he did to his son, but he can’t bring himself to reject it.

She pulls back and cups his face, smiling gently. “How are you, sweetie?”

He allows himself to lean into her touch for a moment before pulling away, shaking his head briefly, unable to answer her question. She nods in understanding and ushers him into the house. He feels grateful for her gentle treatment of him, though he doesn’t understand it or deserve it. Truthfully though, Martha Kent’s disappointment would be just as unbearable as Clark’s absence already has been.

There was a time, many years ago, when he would have laughed had anyone suggested a farmer’s wife and son would be the most important people in his life. He’s not laughing now.

Lex stops in the kitchen and leans against the counter, closing his eyes and inhaling the wonderful scents of fried chicken and apple pie. Smells that evoke memories of times when things were simpler, when they were just Lex and Clark, when being the owner of a struggling company with only one building to it’s name and a high school kid just discovering his powers, were all they were.

A soft gasp brings him out of his musings and he looks up and straight into liquid green eyes, swimming in hurt and confusion. “Clark-“

“What are you doing here?”

“Clark,” Lex shakes his head, bewildered. “Where else would I be?”

Clark snorts and crosses his arms tightly over his chest. “I don’t know, at work?”

Lex shakes his head, sorrow filling him, “I’m so sorry, Clark. I just didn’t realize-“

“Realize what? That you’d stopped loving me?”

“What?” he whispers, shocked. “Is that what you think?” He takes a step closer, stunned when Clark steps back, away from him.

Clark looks at him silently for a moment, then shrugs and looks down. “You’re hardly ever home, and when you are, I might as well not be for all the attention you pay me. So, tell me, what else am I supposed to think?”

Lex reaches out a hand, his fingers barely brushing Clark’s arm before Clark pulls away. “I know I’ve been busy, Clark, and I’ve neglected you, but I’ve *never* stopped loving you.”

Clark looks at him in disbelief, “Did you even read the letter I left, Lex, or did you just notice your bed warmer was gone and now you’re here to claim it?”

Lex is unprepared for Clark’s sudden anger. He opens his mouth to reply but before he can utter a word, Clark is gone, a rush of displaced air pushing Lex back into the counter. He looks up as Martha comes back into the kitchen, a worried expression on her face.

“I don’t know what to do. I didn’t see,” he says, his voice wavering. “I just didn’t *see*.”

***

Clark’s anger carries him as far as the loft before it gives out.

Standing in front of the loft doors he realizes he’s secretly glad that Lex came after him but he still doesn’t believe that anything has changed. They’ve been together so long...maybe it’s become so habitual that Lex doesn’t even know he’s not in love with Clark anymore.

Clark turns and leans back against the lower loft door when he hears hesitant footsteps on the stairs. He watches Lex climb up and schools his expression, ignores the fact that Lex is obviously wearing yesterday’s clothes and that he looks like he didn’t sleep. Clark thinks it’s only fair, after all, that Lex look as bad as Clark feels.

“I’m not moving back in,” his voice is cold, his expression blank. He’s not going to allow Lex to think there’s even a chance of that.

“I’m not asking you to.”

Clark narrows his eyes at the quick answer. “Why are you here?”

Lex walks up next to him and looks out across the farm. “I took the month off from work. Put Gabe in charge.”

Clark scoffs, “Right. You can’t even take a weekend off, Lex.” He’s starting to get angry again. It feels like Lex is playing with him and he’s not sure what the game is.

Lex turns to look at him, eyes serious. “I know. And I am sorry.” He looks away, hands wrapped around the frame door. “I’ve been unfair to you, treated you like you didn’t matter. I’m going to make it up to you, I promise.”

Clark shakes his head and walks over to the couch. “And what,” he asks snidely as he sits down. “You think taking a month off will do it? Lex, as soon as that month is up, you’ll be back at work and before either of us know it, it’ll happen again.”

Lex turns around, shaking his head, “No, I promise you, that won’t happen.”

Clark feels drained suddenly. He sighs heavily and sags back against the couch. “Lex, please, you have to face it. It’s over. You’re practically married to your work and I’ll always come second. It’s not fair and it’s not right but that’s the reality. Just, please... go home.”

Lex walks quickly over to the couch, crouching down in front of Clark. “I’m not giving up,” his voice breaks. “I’m going to prove to you that I love you. I’m going to make you believe it.” He looks at Clark, determination on his face. “I’m staying at the castle. I’m not going back to Metropolis without you.”

Clark looks at him, unable to believe that Lex is making him sound like one of his cars, a mere possession. “Well... then I guess you’ll have to move back into the castle.” He gets back up and walks over to the loft doors. “Now will you leave? I really don’t want you here.”

Lex is silent for a long while. Clark fights to keep from looking at him but finally loses. He wishes he hadn’t when he sees the tears standing in Lex’s eyes. “Lex...” he sighs, at a loss for words. He can’t fix this. It’s not up to him to fix it because he’s not the one who broke it.

Lex must have seen something in his face because his expression goes blank and he leaves without a word.

“Fuck.” Clark closes his eyes and drops his head back onto the couch, wishing, not for the first time, that the last two days were nothing but a dream.

***

December 8, 2007

Standing in the open doorway to the mansion, Lex looks around at the beautiful scene laid before him, a small smile lighting his face, his breath visible in the icy air. The sky is a dark powder blue, with cotton puff clouds moving slowly throughout. The sun reflecting so brightly upon the few inches of snow that had fallen over the past few days, that Lex finds he needs to wear his sunglasses. Tugging on his leather driving gloves, he walks quickly down the steps and climbs into his car, turning the heat on as soon as he starts the vehicle.

Driving out the castle gates, he turns towards the Kent farm, nervous anticipation tying his stomach in knots. When he left the loft last Sunday, Martha stopped him before he was able to make his escape. She told him that he needed to give Clark some time. So Lex spent the last six days trying to come up with the perfect way to prove to Clark how much he loves him. Two days ago he sent Charles into Metropolis to pick up the gift he had ordered for Clark from Tiffany’s and then he spent hours practicing what he would say. He hasn’t been able to stop smiling since.

Pulling up to the homey yellow farmhouse, Lex feels his smile widen. Bright Christmas lights--red, blue, green and white--are strung across the edge of the roof and wrapped around the posts leading to the stairs. Several Santas, reindeer and sleighs decorate the front window and beyond that Lex can see the Christmas tree, twinkling with lights and tinsel and various ornaments. There’s already a snowman built in the front yard, with two rocks for eyes, a large carrot for a nose and a curved twig forming its mouth. Someone, most likely Clark, had shaped extra snow into arms and pressed mittens into the body to make it look as though the snowman has hands.

Climbing out of the car, Lex shivers briefly in the sudden wind. Shutting the door and setting the alarm, he then heads towards the house, fingering the small box in his pants pocket. The door opens before he can knock and Martha pulls him inside, her worried eyes looking him over quickly.

“Really, Lex, don’t you own a hat or scarf?” She shakes her head and propels him into the kitchen, urging him to sit down at the table while she fixes him some hot cocoa. He pulls his gloves off and shoves them into his pockets and peels off his winter coat, walking over to the coat rack and hanging it up. Wrapping his hands around the warm mug Martha hands him, he sits down, blowing softly on the cocoa to cool it down enough to drink.

Martha sits across from him, “Clark’s out in the barn but he should be back in just a few minutes.” She gives him a considering look. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”

Taking a sip of his cocoa, he smiles at her softly, “I’m doing better than I was last weekend. Hopefully I’ll be even better after Clark gets back.”

She raises an eyebrow, smiling back, “Oh?”

His face breaks out into a grin. “Yeah. I think I might have figured out how to prove to Clark that I love him.”

She smiles softly, “That’s great.”

Lex nods and smiles and continues drinking his cocoa, closing his eyes briefly at the heady flavor. He’s never been able to find hot cocoa like Martha’s. Even when he tried to make it himself, adding the vanilla and nutmeg he knows she puts in it, it never turned out right. Clark used to say the missing ingredient was love and that only Martha making it would every produce that result. Lex can’t say he disagrees.

Lex hears Clark stomping his feet on the porch a few minutes later and the knots in his stomach tighten. He looks up as Clark comes in the door and the lack of expression on his face when he looks at Lex, causes his stomach to clench in an entirely different way.

Clark walks over to his mom and kisses her cheek. “Chores are done. Is that your hot cocoa I smell?”

Lex watches him silently as he pours himself some cocoa and talks with his mom about the downed fence he fixed and the cow that nearly escaped. Clark’s eyes are bright and smiling, his cheeks red from the wind and melting snow causes his hair to curl around his face. He’s never looked more beautiful to Lex. But when he turns back to Lex, the brightness in his eyes dulls and his smile fades. Lex starts to wonder whether six days was long enough.

“Lex.” Clark looks at him silently for so long, Lex starts to fidget.

“Clark, I uh, thought we could talk, maybe?” Lex is mortified to hear his voice crack.

Clark’s brow furrows for a moment before he nods. “Okay.”

Martha looks between the two of them and stands. “I have some work to do upstairs, you boys take your time.” She gives Lex a reassuring smile before leaving them alone.

Lex stands up also and gestures to the living room. “Can we talk in there?”

Clark nods and leads the way, standing in front of the window and looking out. Lex follows him, sitting down on the couch. His mouth feels dry and he’s almost sure he may throw up.

Clark turns around and faces him, arms crossed in front of him. “So...talk.”

Lex winces at the coldness in Clark’s voice. Then again, maybe six days was too long. “I’ve been thinking about what you said and how I told you I’d prove to you that I love you.” Lex stands up and pulls the small velvet box out of his pocket. “I want you to marry me.” He flips open the box, revealing a wide platinum band set with a half carat diamond. He holds it out to Clark, his hand visibly trembling.

Clark looks between the ring and him, incredulity in his eyes. “Are you kidding me?” he laughs harshly. “Is that what you think love is? Diamonds?”

Lex flinches and snaps the box shut. “I just thought-“

“Thought what, Lex,” Clarks voice grows harsher as he walks forward. “That you would give me a diamond ring and all would be right with the world?”

Lex shakes his head. He can’t believe how wrong this is going. “I thought you wanted me to prove how I feel about you?”

Clark snorts, “No, Lex, *you* said you were going to do that. I told you to face the fact that’s it’s over and go home.”

Lex looks down at the box in his hands. “So, you don’t want to marry me?” He curses the weakness apparent in his voice.

Clark sighs, “Lex...you’re not getting it. You’re giving me a piece of expensive jewelry, hoping that it will make it all better. Like a diamond is the way to your heart.” His voice turns cruel. “Do you remember those women you fucked and then bought off with diamond earrings? How is this any different?”

Lex’s head snaps up, the reminder of his past indiscretions a stab to his heart. “Because I love you! I’m asking you to marry me!”

Clark raises an eyebrow, “Do you, Lex? Do you love me? How do I know? Because you’re giving me something that means so little to you, that you passed them out like candy? Because you’re telling me you want to get married, when marriage is something you always said would mean nothing to you? *How* do I know you love me, Lex? How can I believe you?”

Lex shakes his head, dropping his arms to his sides. “I don’t know,” he whispers softly.

Clark’s expression softens minutely before it hardens once again. “Then maybe you should leave and come back when you think you’ve figured it out.” Clark then turns away from him, looking back outside.

Lex opens his mouth but then realizes he doesn’t know what to say. He shoves the box back into his pocket and turns away, walking back into the kitchen to grab his coat. He sees Martha out of the corner of his eye and flushes when he realizes she must have heard everything. She steps forward and calls his name but he leaves before she can reach him.

Driving back to the castle, Lex feels a cold stillness seep into him, numbing him from the inside out. The pain and humiliation he feels is beyond tears, beyond any form of expression.

Lex thought, after all the shit his father put him through, after losing his mother and Julian, that he’d experienced the worst grief had to offer. He lets out a harsh laugh as he realizes just how wrong he was.

***

Martha watches through the window as Lex drives off, his tires spinning briefly in the snow before the traction catches and holds. Turning away she walks into the living room, stopping a couple of feet behind Clark. “Clark, don’t you think you were a little hard on him?”

Clark turns around and faces her, his expression guarded. “No, I don’t. He thinks that he can just ignore me for months, make me feel invisible, like he doesn’t even care and then show up with a ring and a flimsy proposal of marriage and I’ll just go back to him?” Clark shakes his head. “It’s not going to be that easy.”

Martha reaches out and strokes her hand over his arm. “Clark, it’s possible he doesn’t understand what you want from him. He wasn’t raised the same way you were. He never had anyone show him that the little things are what matter when it comes to showing your love.”

Clark gives her a sad smile. “That’s not true, Mom,” he says softly. “He had me.”

Martha watches him walk away, her silence just as damning as Clark’s words.

***

December 12, 2007

For the few days after the failed proposal, Lex thought up and discarded dozens of ideas. Things like new cars for Clark and Martha. Season tickets to the Sharks games. Tickets and backstage passes to see Clark’s favorite bands. He even thought about giving Gabe the CEO position permanently, which would free up a lot of Lex’s time.

Nothing sounded right.

He didn’t want it to look like he’s just throwing his money around. And Clark’s reaction to the expensive wedding band tells him that buying him things isn’t going to work. He just wishes he could figure out what will.


December 15, 2007

Clark watches Lex pull up in front of the house, from his vantage point along the south fence where he’s dropping off bales of hay for the cattle. He hadn’t seen or heard from Lex since last week when Lex proposed and Clark shot him down so cruelly. After thinking about it for a couple of days, Clark realizes he may have been too harsh, but he refuses to apologize.

Dropping the last of the bales onto the ground, he climbs into the truck and drives back to the barn, parking it haphazardly. Jumping down, he jogs slowly to the house and takes the stairs two at a time.

“Mom?” he calls, wiping his muddy feet on the doormat. The snow that had fallen last week was nearly all melted now, leaving behind ground so soaked with water, it was hard to walk anywhere without sinking into a least an inch of mud.

“We’re in the kitchen, honey.”

Dropping his coat on the stairs, he heads to the kitchen, wiping the sweat off of his face with the bottom of his t-shirt. He hates that he doesn’t get cold easily but he can still get too hot and sweat, even on the coldest days. He lets go of his t-shirt as he enters the kitchen, seeing his mom and Lex seated at the counter, drinking coffee.

Lex looks up and smiles at him warily. Clark bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling back. Forces himself to walk slowly over to the counter where his mom’s sitting. Lex looks amazingly good and Clark finds himself fighting the urge to grab him up in his arms and take off with him. He sits down, clenching his hands into fists and resting them on his thighs. “Why’re you here?” he ask bluntly, almost rudely.

“Clark!” His mom looks at him disapprovingly.

Lex touches her arm briefly. “It’s okay, Martha.”

Clark scowls.

Lex turns to Clark, his hands gripping his coffee mug tightly. “I wanted to see if you’d like to go out to dinner tonight.”

Clark looks at him, hiding his surprise. “Dinner?”

Lex gives him a small smile. “Yeah. You know, the meal eaten between six and eight, usually consisting of large portions of meat and potatoes.”

Clark scowls again. “Don’t try to be funny. Why would I want to go to dinner with you?”

Martha says his name again in what Clark likes to call her ‘mother’ voice. He ignores her and watches Lex closely, ignoring the fact that he really does want to go out with Lex. Pushes aside the part of him that tells him how much Lex has been missed.

Lex’s smile falters and he looks down, shrugging. “You have to eat...”

Clark snorts, “I can eat here.” He almost cringes at the disappointed look on Lex’s face. Why is he insisting on being such a bastard? Because Lex deserves it, whispers the part of him that wants revenge.

Martha clears her throat, looking at Clark innocently. “Oh, did I forget to mention I’m not cooking dinner tonight?” She smiles sweetly and pats Lex on the arm. “You boys have a good time.”

Clark watches her leave with narrowed eyes. Great, now his mom’s taking sides. Against him.

Lex’s mouth twitches. “Well, I guess that gives you a reason to come to dinner with me.”

“Yeah, I guess it does.” Clark looks back at Lex, noticing a faint look of relief in his eyes. He sighs. “Fine. Where are we going?”

Lex smiles, “I don’t know. I’d thought I’d let you choose the place.”

Clark bites back his first response, because knowing Lex, he’d do it. And they’d be on their way to Australia within the hour.

“How about that little Italian place we found in Edge City?” Lex inquires.

Clark swallows hard as he remembers the last time they were there, back in June. They didn’t get a whole lot of eating done, what with the sex they kept leaving the table to have in the tiny bathroom. Clark frowns. That was the night before Lex learned of Nigel’s betrayal. Which means that was probably the last time they had sex. God, has it really been that long?

Lex meets Clark’s eyes and flushes. Well, apparently Lex remembers that night, too. “Um, okay, not there then.”

“You think?” he utters sarcastically.

Lex sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose.

Clark opens his mouth to ask if he’s okay and snaps it shut when he remembers he’s not supposed to be caring. “How about we just go into town and eat at Mac’s?”

Lex gives him a grateful smile and nods. “That sounds great.”

Clark feels like a heel for making Lex look at him like that but shakes it off. Lex deserves to be treated like this. Hell, Lex deserves worse than this.

Following Lex out to the car, Clark wonders why the thought feels so false.

***

December 17, 2007

Dinner with Clark went better than Lex could have planned. Well, almost.

They were actually able to just hang out and talk, like they used to when the only thing that separated them were the lies they each told and ignored.

They talked about the latest movies, the newest music, the most recent fiction releases. They reminisced about old times, about the ‘Scooby Gang’ as Chloe dubbed them after one too many Buffy marathons and the many meteor mutants that plagued the town while they were all in school.

About an hour after they finished their food, they were still talking and laughing...until Lex made the mistake of going with instinct and leaning across the table to kiss Clark. In a matter of seconds, Clark was shut down, distant and sarcastic, once again. Ten minutes after that Lex dropped Clark off at home. And found himself back at square one.


December 21, 2007

Lex fidgets with his pen as he listens to the phone ring on the other end. He turns his chair around to face the doorway and props his feet up on the desk, adopting a calm he in no way actually feels.

He hasn’t seen or talked to Clark in nearly a week, since the semi-disaster that was dinner at Mac’s. He stopped by the farm a few times, even stayed for dinner once, but he didn’t see Clark at all. Martha was sympathetic but refused to say where he was. And with Christmas only four days away, Lex is growing anxious. They haven’t ever been apart on Christmas. Even when they were just friends, Lex still stopped by and stayed for a while, exchanging gifts and stories and generally just enjoying the holiday with his favorite family. He can’t bear to have this year be the one they spend apart.

“Hello?”

Lex snaps out of his musings at the sound of Clark’s voice.

“Hey, it’s Lex. I was thinking maybe you’d like to come over for lunch and a game of pool?”

Lex taps his pen against his leg nervously as he waits for Clark’s answer.

“Yeah, sure. That, uh, sounds like fun. I’ll be over in twenty minutes, okay?”

Lex drops his feet to the floor and sits up quickly, a slow smile spreading across his face. “That’s fine. I’ll see you when you get here then.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.” Lex hangs up and drops his pen onto the desk, hurrying out of his office and downstairs to the kitchen. He’d already ordered three pizzas in anticipation of Clark’s arrival, not allowing himself to think of Clark refusing to come. Grabbing the pizzas and some plates and napkins, he heads back upstairs.

Twenty minutes later, Clark walks in, a hesitant smile on his face. Lex is glad his hands are in his pockets as he clenches his fists tightly, nails biting to the skin, to keep from rushing forward and taking Clark into his arms. He wonders if this was how Clark felt all those months when he was too busy working to pay any attention. Except worse, of course. Because at least Clark is here, looking at him, *seeing* him.

Lex walks towards Clark slowly. “I ordered pizzas, three of them,” he smiles softly. “Figured you might be a bit hungry.”

Lex feels his breath catch in his throat at the blinding smile Clark shoots his way.

“Yeah, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” Clark grabs a couple of slices of pepperoni pizza and sets them on a plate, taking a third and eating it in three huge bites.

Lex finds himself grinning at the familiar scene. Clark always did have a large appetite. Lex opens the second box and takes out a slice of vegetarian, taking a small bite before setting it on a plate. He pulls a quarter out of his pocket and holds it up, “Head or tails?”

Clark mumbles around a the pizza in his mouth, “Heads.”

Lex tosses the coin up and catches it, flipping it onto his hands. “Heads it is. You break.”

“Cool.” Clark sets down his plate and wipes his hands and mouth on a napkin. Walking over to the pool table, he gathers up all the balls and sets them inside the rack, jiggling it a bit to line up the balls. Walking to the other side of the table he bends over and lines up the cue stick, thrusting it forward smoothly. The sharp crack of the cue ball hitting the group of balls on the other end echoes through the room as three balls sink into two different pockets. Two solids and one stripe.

Clark stands up and grins, “Yes! Solids.”

Lex grins back, “What is it with you and solids? Especially considering all the plaid you used to wear?” Lex saunters over to the wall rack, pulling down a pool cue and picking up the chalk from the edge of the table.

Clark chuckles, “I don’t know, Lex, I just like being solids when I play pool.” He moves around the table, eyes roving over the balls, looking for the perfect shot.

Lex wraps his hands around his pool cue and braces it on the floor, leaning against it as he watches Clark slip into game face.

Clark bends over and takes his second shot, sinking a single solid into a corner pocket.

Lex watches him avidly, trying hard not to get aroused as his mind filters through the many games in the past that were never finished as the two of them decided to finish each other instead. Lex walks a couple of feet down, avoiding any chance at seeing Clark’s ass as he bends over to take his next shot. Lex snickers as the ball Clark aims for bounces of the edge and rolls into the middle of the table.

Clark stands up and gives Lex a mock glare, “Watch it, Lex, I know how to distract you.”

Lex feels a twinge of surprise but covers it up before Clark sees it. Maybe if he doesn’t bring Clark’s attention to the obviously unintentional flirting, then he won’t shut Lex out again.

Walking around the table, Lex’s mind flips through the various moves he can make before he makes a decision. Bending down and lining up the shot, he follows through quickly, smiling in satisfaction as he sinks two balls, both stripes.

Two moves later, Lex has only two balls left to sink, plus the black ball. He lines up his shot, trying hard to ignore Clark leaning against the table a mere foot from him. Lex can hear the rasp of Clark’s jeans as he shifts, the soft exhale of his breath. He pushes away memories of the many times Clark would slide up behind him, molding his front to Lex’s back, laughing softly as Lex inevitably missed his shot. He curses under his breath. Like now. He pushes away from the table and gestures to Clark. “Your turn.”

Clark smirks and picks up the chalk, dusting the tip of the cue. He walks slowly around the table, his brow furrowed in concentration. He braces the cue on the table, then picks it up and switches it’s position. Lex watches him and looks at the balls, trying to track the path Clark’s trying to take. His eyes widen a bit.

“There’s no way you’ll make that shot!”

Clark looks up at him and smirks before looking back down at the table and executing a move that has him sinking two balls, into two different pockets.

Lex shakes his head. “You’ve been practicing.”

Clark’s posture stiffens a bit. “Yeah, I have. I’ve found myself with a bit more free time on my hands lately.” Lex looks away, rubbing a hand over his neck at the reminder. Clark moves down the table and takes his next shot, sinking yet another solid, leaving five balls on the table. Two stripes, one solid, the black ball and cue ball.

Lex moves out of the way as Clark walks around the table towards him, eyes on the table. He picks up the chalk and dusts his cue before bending down and hitting the cue ball a little too hard, missing his shot. Straightening up, he waves his hand over the table, giving Lex a mocking look before walking over to the rack, leaning against the wall.

Lex sighs and rubs his neck again, before dusting his cue with the chalk and looking over the balls, trying to see what angle he need to shoot from. He sinks a ball, quickly moving around the table and leaning down to take another shot. Sinks that ball. Grins softly and lines up the shot that will win him the game. Misses. He curses and steps back, ignoring Clark’s chuckle.

Five minutes later Clark sinks the black ball and wins the game. Lex smiles and walks over to him. “Good game.” He pauses, before tilting his head a bit. “I’ve missed playing with you.”

Clark grabs Lex’s cue and turns around to put them away, “Don’t, Lex.”

Lex follows him, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “Clark, please. I miss you. I miss hanging out with you, I miss going to bed with you, I miss waking up with you. I miss just talking with you.”

Clark spins around and pins him in place with a fierce glare. “Really? You miss all that? Well, try missing it for six months and then tell me how you feel.” Clark shakes his head and walks over to the couch, sinking down into it. “Fuck, Lex. You can’t make up for that with dinner and a game of pool. It doesn’t work that way.”

Lex walks over and sits down next to him, reaching out to touch Clark but dropping his hand before he makes contact. “I know that, I’m not trying to make up for it. I know that there’s really nothing I can *do* to make up for it. But I can try to show you how wrong I was and to show you that I *do* love you.”

Clark shakes his head again, “I’m sorry, Lex. I just don’t trust that anymore.” He looks at Lex regretfully and stands up. “Thanks for the game. I’ve got to get back.”

Lex sits there silently, watching Clark walk away, wondering how many times he’ll end up back at square one before something he does actually works.

***

December 22, 2007

Clark hits play on his portable CD play and lies back on his bed as the first song starts up, tapping his fingers on his chest to the beat.

This morning when he went out to do his chores, he found a small, square package taped to the front door. Opening it he found a red jewel case and a listing of various songs from artists both he and Lex enjoy listening to. Unable to believe that Lex made something as corny as a mixed CD for him, he set it on the counter just inside and went about feeding the chickens and mucking stalls.

Now he listens closely to the songs Lex had specifically picked out with his eyes closed, images and emotions flowing through him, getting stronger with each song that plays.

When the CD stops, Clark opens his eyes and blinks away a few tears. It’s obvious that Lex put a lot of thought and detail into making this, a lot more than Clark would have ever given him credit for. He pops the CD player open and pulls the CD out, placing it inside the jewel case. Sitting up, he flips the case back and forth between his hands before dropping it into his nightstand drawer and shutting it away.

Something deep inside him feels a perverse sense of pleasure out of rejecting every attempt Lex makes. And it worries Clark how unforgiving he can be, how cruel and spiteful. He doesn’t want to continue on like this, but he can’t seem to stop. Even though he did have fun yesterday with Lex, playing pool like they used to, once Lex brought up how he felt, Clark just couldn’t help rejecting him.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Clark tries to picture spending Christmas Day without Lex. Since Lex’s first Christmas in Smallville, when he came over with a gift of cinnamon rolls his cook had made, they had made a point of spending at least a few hours every year together, just the two of them. And as he and Lex grew closer, those few hours evolved into Lex coming early and staying for dinner and the four of them--he, Lex and his parents--exchanging gifts. When they started dating, the ritual took on more meaning. They had even brought his mom out to Metropolis last year for Christmas, since it was the first one without his dad. Clark smiles softly as he remembers Lex even cooked that year. The tree was slightly lopsided and the angel Lex bought broke and the turkey ended up a little dry and the yams over baked but all in all, it had been a nice Christmas. Clark had hoped this year would be even better.

Because this year he planned to ask Lex to marry him. He bought the rings back in May and was going to propose on Christmas Day. He knows Lex doesn’t take much stock in marriage but he thought maybe, if it was him... Clark sighs. Not that it matters now. After Lex’s proposal, with the obviously store bought, very expensive ring... He could tell that Lex put no thought whatsoever into it. That it was just a means to an end. Propose marriage, get Clark back.

But given today’s gift, it’s apparent that Lex completely understood the lesson Clark was trying to teach him. It’s just unfortunate that Clark won’t allow himself to forgive Lex.

***

Lex spends most of the day in his office, playing pool, playing solitaire on his laptop, pacing. Waiting. He spent hours upon hours last night, searching for the perfect songs to put on the CD he made for Clark, sure that it would win Clark over. As the hours pass and the castle grows dark, Lex grows more and more anxious. Maybe he didn’t even open it or maybe it somehow fell and ended up underneath the doormat.

Lex paces back and forth in front of his desk, hands shoved deep into his pockets, thinking of all the different reasons that could possibly end with Clark not calling or coming by.

Because Lex doesn’t want to think about the one reason that’s been slowly curling around the edges of his mind for days. That maybe Clark is the one who’s no longer in love. Maybe all these gestures and all the time he spent trying to convince Clark of his love are futile. Maybe Clark just doesn’t know how to break it to him.

Shaking away the thoughts he falls into his chair and tilts it back, closing his eyes. He doesn’t realize he’s asleep until he wakes at three am, the office dark and empty but for him and his broken heart.


December 23, 2007

Lex creeps up to the house, watching through the windshield as Clark bounds down the steps and drives towards the fields in the truck. Relieved that Clark didn’t see him, he climbs out and heads to the house. Wiping his shoes on the doormat, he knocks once before opening the door. “Martha?”

A few seconds later Martha comes down the stairs. “Lex, come in, come in.” She grabs his arm and pulls him inside, shutting the door behind him. Looks him up and down and frowns. “You haven’t been sleeping.”

Lex shrugs, “I’m not used to sleeping alone anymore.”

Martha gives him a sympathetic look and propels into the kitchen. “You haven’t been eating either.” She still amazes him with her uncanny ability to tell these things, even though he knows there’s no way it shows on him yet. Outside of the dark circles under his eyes, that is.

Lex sits down at the table and watches her move about the kitchen, pulling out a plate and sliding a piece of apple pie onto it, then pouring him a glass of milk. He’s about to protest that he’s not hungry when the smell hits him. He never could resist Martha’s apple pie. When she places the plate, glass and a fork in front of him, he dives in while trying hard to make it look like he’s only doing so to humor her. One look at her face, though, and he knows she isn’t fooled.

Martha sits down across from him and watches him eat. “Clark’s out in the fields but he shouldn’t be long.”

Lex swallows the last bite of pie and washes it down with half the glass of milk before speaking. “I know, I saw him leave.” He wipes his face with a napkin and leans back in his seat. “That was wonderful, as always. Thanks.”

Martha gives him a sly smile, “Of course, Lex. I know you can’t resist anything I make.”

Lex laughs softly, “Is that arrogance I hear, Martha Kent?”

“Of course not!” she protests lightly.

Lex snorts, “Uh-huh.” After a few moments his smile fades. Tapping his fingers on the table he looks past her and out the window. “I’m going back to Metropolis today.”

Martha sighs softly, “Lex...are you sure?”

Lex brings his gaze back to her. “I thought I could make it work but I don’t think he’s ever going to forgive me. At least, not anytime soon. So, I think it’s best I go back.”

Martha reaches out and squeezes his hand. He looks down at their entwined hands and swallows