December 18

CRIME:

Sentinel - Jim/Blair

Author: Patt
Title: Let Me Guide You
Date: Your Choice
Fandom: Sentinel
Pairing: Jim/Blair
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Jim is slipping away from his guide. Blair feels as if Jim is dying and goes and seeks out some help from an old teacher. Why is Jim doing this and what can Blair do to help?
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me and I make no money.
Feedback address: PattRose1@aol.com
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Note: AU story
Beta: Mary Browne

Let Me Guide You
By Patt

PattRose@cox.net

Blair Sandburg was diligently doing research at the library as usual this Saturday night. Jim Ellison, his roommate, was becoming increasingly depressed and Blair didn't know what to do or where to turn. He was looking up every single thing about depression that he could find, but nothing seemed to quite fit. Finally he had no choice but to go to one of his former Anthropology Professors and talk to him about it. There wasn't anything else to do. Blair believed Jim was slipping away from him. And now that he was his partner at work, this made things even harder.

+++++

Blair got closer to Rainer and got nervous just looking at the building. He hadn't been back to the university in months. Now he needed to talk to the one person that might be able to help him with Jim. There was only one person that would believe the story about Jim besides he and Simon - Professor Walken. He was the teacher that really pushed Blair into doing more studying on the Sentinel project. He was well versed in Sentinel Lore. Blair would tell him about Jim, because he knew that he could trust him. Reading at the library was all well and good, but Blair needed to talk to someone that knew about Sentinels.

This wasn't going to be easy at all. When he got to Professor Walken's room he knocked.

"Come in," Professor Walken said. "Blair, my boy, how are you? It's so good to see you. How can I help you?"

"I'm doing fine, sir," Blair answered. "but I need some help on research and didn't know where else to go."

"Sounds serious," Walken said. "Why don't you sit down and tell me about it. And we will take it one step at a time."

Blair sat down and started telling Professor Walken all about his sentinel story and how it really was true, but that he didn't know what to say or do to figure out what was wrong with Jim. But there was something terribly wrong with his friend, and it needed to be fixed as soon as possible.

"Could you describe these things to me, please?" Walken asked.

"First of all," Blair started, "he seems to be fascinated with the idea of death. His own death, that is. He doesn't want anyone else dead, but goes out of his way to step in harms way. Almost like it's a suicide type thing."

Walken looked over at Blair and said, "You are his bonded mate, right?"

"No," Blair answered, "Jim doesn't believe that. He doesn't go for guys, either. Believe me I have brought it up several times. I've explained to him that we are meant to be mates for life. He disagrees."

"Well, you must talk him into it," Walken said. "This isn't something to be discussed over and over. It has to be taken care of. Blair if you don't mate, you'll not be together much longer. I'm surprised he has lasted this long."

"What are you saying?" Blair asked. "What will happen if we don't? He won't do something rash will he?"

"Blair, you know the answer," Walken said sadly. "It's the way of the Shaman and Sentinel. It has to be this way. If it isn't, he'll die."

"So, he basically has been trying to commit suicide, right?" Blair asked.

"Yes," Walken said worriedly, "and if you don't get some sense talked into him soon, it'll be too late. You don't have time to talk with me, you have to get busy."

As Blair was leaving, he wondered what he should do to attract Jim's attention and what would make Jim suddenly decide to jump the Hetero fence. No, this wasn't going to be easy. In fact, this might be the hardest thing that had ever come up in Blair's life.

+++++

Walking through the door, he saw Jim sitting at the kitchen table, seeing his shoulders sagging and heartbreaking look on Jim's face. Blair couldn't take it any longer. He leaned against the shut front door and started crying.

Jim jumped up from where he was sitting at the table and rushed to Blair's side and asked, "Chief, what's wrong? Please tell me. What is it?"

He saw the trepidation in Blair's eyes, the sadness overwhelming him and Jim pulled him into an embrace and Blair pulled Jim's face down and kissed him softly on the lips. Blair was still crying. Jim didn't seem to mind this. Jim did what he thought Blair needed. Before long they ended up in Jim's bed upstairs. Maybe he had misread Jim not being into men.

Jim, the Sentinel, knew that he had to take care of the Guide. Jim the man wasn't at all interested, but the Sentinel won. That was his job - taking care of his Guide. So Jim would do what he had to do to make him feel better.

Jim started kissing him starting on his face, lowering down to his neck and nipples and chest. He was paying most attention to the area around his bellybutton and Blair was writhing in ecstasy. Jim licked Blair's cock and Blair almost came right then. Jim stopped him so that he'd last a little longer. Jim was a little surprised at how fast he was taking to licking a man's cock. It wasn't that odd. He really wasn't going to think about it that much. After all, he was only doing what his Guide needed. It didn't matter about anything else. His Guide had to be happy.

Blair asked, "Will you fuck me, Jim?"

"Chief, I don't know what I'm doing here. I think we should take it slow."

Continuing to lick Blair's cock, he then was coached from Blair.

"Jim, do what you think you would like this done to you. Believe me, it feels great. Don't be nervous. I'll talk you through this." Blair said, in a very husky voice.

Jim took Blair into his mouth and did what he liked to have done to him. Jim was shocked at how responsive Blair was. Being new to it, he figured he wouldn't do it right. He needn't have worried.

Jim went from licking to sucking, quite timidly, but still making Blair feel very good. Jim might be new at this, but could take directions like no one else. He was doing things just as Blair told him each step of the way.

Once Blair could tell that Jim was into this as much as he was, he knew he could guide Jim. And guide him, he did. He handed the condom and the lube to Jim. Blair knew that Jim was nervous, but Blair talked him through the entire routine. Jim wasn't sure how he felt about preparing Blair, but he didn't have much control. Blair was talking to him and guiding him.

Jim listened intently to everything Blair said, as he stretched his precious Guide. Jim really didn't think he could do it, but Blair was a very good teacher. When Blair seemed comfortable Jim inserted two fingers and he would stop sucking when Blair got too close. Before long Jim had three of his fingers in his Guide and Blair was ready.

Blair said, "Jim now push into me, a little bit at a time. Take it slow and you'll do just fine. Jim entered Blair and it was wonderful. He went in slowly, little by little as Blair taught him to do. It was painful for a bit for Blair but that passed fairly quickly because Jim was so gentle. Before long Blair was breathing hard and asking Jim to fuck him harder. So Jim did. And before long Blair came and Jim followed soon after. They lay there together for a long while and finally Jim slid out of Blair and cleaned them up. Then he pulled the covers up to Blair's chin and tucked him in and rolled over on his side and acted like he was going to go to sleep.

Oh fuck, Blair thought. He doesn't love me. He didn't mate with me. He pity fucked me. Blair started crying again.

Jim rolled over and pulled him into his arms and said, "Blair, I can't. I'm sorry," when Blair tried to kiss Jim again.

He held Blair until they both fell asleep, Blair knowing that he was going to lose his best friend, partner and Sentinel.

+++++

Incacha came to Blair in his dream that night. "Shaman, you must be in control," he said, "Or you'll lose your Sentinel for good."

"I don't know what to do, Incacha," Blair answered, "What do I do now? He said he couldn't love me. He said he didn't love me."

"You were not listening to his heart. Just his words," Incacha said, "You must listen with your heart and to his heart."

When Blair woke up, he was lying in Jim's arms and staring at his Sentinel and wondered what that meant. Listen with my heart. Okay, Blair thought, he said he couldn't do it. He said he was sorry and can't. What does that mean? That he doesn't love me? I guess not, or Incacha wouldn't have bothered with a visit.

Jim woke up and saw Blair staring at him and he smiled a tragic smile and started to get up and leave the bed. But Blair shoved him back. Blair was going to try something, anything, and see if it worked.

He made the move; he climbed on top of Jim and started kissing him, started leaving love bites all over his neck and shoulders. Then he started on his chest. Blair was almost drawing blood and he felt Jim getting hard underneath him. Blair reached for the condom and the lotion and started preparing Jim as he sucked on Jim's cock. Jim was moaning by this time and that was a lot more than he did last night. Blair realized that Jim hadn't made one sound all night long. Not one. But he was making a lot of noise now. Why?

Blair got him all ready and had him as loose as Jim was going to get. He noticed that Jim was still pretty tense. Blair had to ask. "Jim," Blair asked, "is this okay with you? I want to make love to you, but only if you want it too."

"Yes," Jim shouted out, "fuck me now. I need you now."

Knowing this was Jim's first time, Blair wasn't going to just move into him without caution. He moved in behind him and started pushing into him, very slowly. A little bit at a time. Each time letting Jim's body get accustomed to the fullness. When Jim finally pushed back against him, Blair began a steady rhythm.

"Jesus," Blair said, "Jim, you feel so fucking fantastic. I can't believe how this feels. I'm part of you now. Whatever happens with us, it happens to both of us. No matter where you go, I'll follow."

As Blair talked in his Guide voice, Jim kept moaning louder and louder. He kept asking him to do him harder. Blair was more than happy to pound into his Sentinel and show him who he belonged to. As Jim was getting close, Blair could tell by his noises, Blair bit him on the neck and shoulder area as hard as he could without drawing blood. Jim came as soon as Blair did that and shouted Blair's name.

Blair pounded into Jim a few more times as he came screaming, "You are mine."

He didn't pull out right away. They moved to lie down and lay connected for a long time before Blair slid out and he cleaned them both up. Jim rolled over and went into Blair's arms. Jim was shaking and started crying softly.

"I love you, Jim," Blair said tenderly, "I'll be with you always. We are as one now. No one else, ever again, Jim, do you understand that?"

"I do now." Jim answered back. "I love you, too."

"Jim," Blair asked, "why didn't you let me love you last night? Why did you make me think you didn't love me?"

"Because," Jim pleaded, "I didn't think you could love me and just me. I can't share you Blair. And I knew that I couldn't live with you being with anyone else."

"Promise me that you'll talk to me before you make any stupid decisions again. Okay?" Blair asked, smiling with his eyes.

Jim continued holding Blair and said, "I feel like this is the first day of the rest of our lives."

"It is," Blair said using all the love in his heart in his voice. "No more death thoughts, right?" Blair asked with fear in his voice.

"No," Jim said, "I'll only die if it is meant to happen. And even then we'll never be separate."

"I love you, Jim," Blair said.

"Blair, you have no idea how much I have loved you and will keep loving you," Jim said quietly. "I plan on showing you for the rest of our lives."

The Jaguar and Wolf walked around them as they kissed. Incacha was in the background watching them with tears in his eyes. Even spirits had feelings for those he left behind.

The End.

CRIME:

Sentinel - Jim/Blair

Author: Moonloon
Title: Strength and Symmetry
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Jim/Blair
Summary: Jim decides it's time to make a change, but how?
Show: The Sentinel
Date of publication: 18th December 2004
Disclaimer: The Sentinel is not mine. The characters in this story are not mine.
Feedback address: maryavatar@gmail.com
Website: Amused and Abused http://rivatar.com/aa
Advertisement: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar of 2003 at http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Beta: Much thanks to Zion's Starfish

STRENGTH AND SYMMETRY

I stared down at the book I'd bought Blair for Christmas, and it suddenly seemed... stupid. I mean, I *knew* it wasn't stupid: it was a great gift. A book I'd heard him mentioning was out of print and hard to find. It had taken some time and money, but I'd found it, and I knew Blair would be thrilled with it.

It was a thoughtful gift. A personal gift. A gift that said 'I care about you'. A gift carefully chosen to be loving without being intimate. Rather like our lives. Like The Thing We Do Not Talk About.

I'm not sure when I grew comfortable with being uncomfortable. It was what I'd wanted at the start, lying in bed in the morning, guiltily sweating, as I listened to him jerk off in the shower. These days I still sweated, but the guilt wasn't there. I was used to it. I was used to pretending to ignore the way he looked at me, and pretending that the way I touched him was platonic. Was this what the rest of my life was going to be like? Were we going to live in this rut forever?

The idea of spending the rest of my life *not* fucking Blair was suddenly too horrible to contemplate. It was time to do something.

~

We spent Christmas day with my brother. It was the first Christmas I'd spent with Stephen since we were kids, and it felt weird, but in a good way. I gave Blair the book, and I swear, he squealed like a girl. Later, in the kitchen, Stephen tried to ask me if we were together, and I pretended to misunderstand him. He still had an irritation line marring his forehead when we left.

"So what did you do to piss off your brother?" Blair said, as I drove us home.

"I ate all the broccoli. He loves broccoli." I couldn't help grinning.

"Yeah, right. He went into the kitchen twitchy, and came back annoyed. Was it some brother thing?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know." Which was Sandburg/Ellison code for 'This is one of those Things We Don't Talk About'.

"Right." He studied me in the dark. "You okay?"

I grinned wider and glanced over at him. "Just fine, Sandburg."

"Uh huh." He looked a little spooked.

The loft was warm and dark when we got back. I threw my keys into the bowl beside the door and fingered the little box in my pocket.

"Beer?" Blair asked, reaching for the fridge.

"No thanks," I said, "I have another present for you."

He gave me a look. "Another one? 'Cause the book is great. I don't think you'll ever be able to top that."

I'd had a plan on how I'd do this, but events just seemed to go their own way. Considering the fact that Blair came into my life to help me learn control, it was amazing how much *less* control I had over everything other than my senses. I didn't seem to miss it much either. I grinned and threw the box to him. I think I pulled off the casual look; thank God he couldn't hear my heartbeat.

He was puzzled for a moment, fumbling for the box, then he got this sort of half-smile on his face, like he'd figured out that it was probably a gag gift, but didn't want to spoil the joke. The smile vanished, and his eyes got very big once he opened the box though.

"Oh." A very quiet sound.

Casual had left the building. "Wear it for me." I said.

Blair's eyes flicked up to mine, then back down at the box. He carefully put it down on the kitchen worktop, and pulled off his sweater. I just stood and watched, and tried not to have a coronary. The shirt came next, then the tee. He was throwing his clothes on the floor, although I didn't actually notice that until the next day. Finally his undershirt came off. Slowly. I don't know if it was just nerves, or he was teasing me intentionally, but when I think back, it seemed like that simple act lasted half the night.

He had a small gold hoop through his left nipple, and as he unfastened it, his nipple got hard. I remember licking my lips, and Blair's breath catching. I've never seen him blush with embarrassment, but his neck was getting pink, and I could see the way his jeans were getting pushed out of shape at the crotch. He put the hoop down and picked up the box.

"Are you sure about this?" He looked me right in the eye. "It's not too late to back out."

"I'm sure. You can close the box back up again if you want, but I'm sure." And I was. I'd had enough of dancing around our attraction.

"This changes a lot of stuff, Jim. It's not just about sex."

"I know." We both knew the implications of him accepting the contents of the box. He'd probably give me some lecture on the significance of jewellery exchange as part of bonding and marriage ceremonies at some point, but right now he was more focused on lifting my present out of the box.

I hadn't known exactly what I was looking for until I saw it. I'd wandered around aimlessly until a window display had caught my eye. I'd thought it was silver at first, until I noticed the label saying 'titanium jewellery'. I don't know much about metallurgy, but I know that titanium is very strong. It seemed appropriate. As did its shape: a barbell, two opposite and equal ends.

Blair's hands weren't shaking as he unscrewed one end. Mine were, but I had them hidden behind my back so he wouldn't see. He hissed as he threaded it through his nipple.

"Uh... sensitive," he said.

"I know." Of course I knew. I probably knew a lot more about his body than he realised.

Still, with steady hands, he fastened the end back on, then looked up at me and smiled.

"Upstairs," I said, a lot hoarser than I'd intended. Blair's eyes widened and he swayed, unsure whether he should come toward me or the stairs.

"Upstairs, Blair. I swear, if you touch me now we'll do it on the floor right here, and I'm way too old to fuck on a hard surface."

That decided it and he moved quickly towards the stairs. About halfway up I heard the button on his jeans pop open, and the zipper slide down. "Oh man, that's better," Blair said, as he reached the top. I took a couple of deep breaths and followed him.

By the time I got to the top of the stairs Blair was sprawled naked across my bed. Completely naked. Naked and impressively erect. Every fantasy I'd had for the last three years was suddenly within my reach. I could roll him over and fuck him, or suck his cock until he screamed, or just lay him back and taste every inch of his body. Blair's own actions made my decision for me: he reached up and tugged on my present.

Yes, I'd start there.

"Jeeze, Jim. At least take your jacket off."

I looked down and laughed. I hadn't even noticed I was still wrapped up for the December weather. I tugged the scarf from around my neck and tossed it over the side of the balcony, then shrugged out of my jacket, leaving it on the floor.

"Wow, now I *know* things are serious," Blair said, still toying with the barbell. "Jim Ellison throwing stuff on the floor. Should I expect a rain of toads next?"

"Shut up, Sandburg," I said as I climbed onto the bed. I'd intended to lean over and kiss him, but he didn't wait. He grabbed me and laid one on me. He was a lot clumsier than I'd been expecting, considering his vast experience, but things smoothed out fast once we were both lying down. Those cushy lips of his were just as soft as they looked, but it wasn't like kissing a woman at all. The kissing was great, but I had a different target in mind, so I pushed his shoulders down and pulled back.

"What... uh... *fuck*!" Blair arched his back and gasped as I ran my tongue over his nipple. "You… know that's sensitive. Really sensitive, right? Oh man. Like, I'm not going to be good for much else if you keep doing that, type of sensitive."

"Yeah, Sandburg, I know." And I sucked the whole thing, nipple and barbell into my mouth.

Despite his protests he wasn't quite as hair-trigger as all that. I pushed my tongue under one side of the barbell and sucked the whole thing sideways, then turned the little ball at the end so the post rotated inside his nipple. I pinned down his left leg with my own; it had been flailing around like it was connected somehow.

"Oh yeah. Hold me down." Blair moaned, so I did. I pinned him to the bed and kept sucking and tugging on his nipple with my mouth. Sex was just *flooding* my senses, like I'd never experienced before. I *had* to make him come; it was an urge even stronger than my own need to come. Losing patience, I reached down to stroke him, but he yelled with the first touch of my hand and came in three quick bursts.

I almost zoned on the smell. The only thing that kept me aware of where I was was the sound of Blair's heartbeat drumming much faster than I was used to hearing it. Then all the air left my lungs as Blair flipped me onto my back.

"Sorry, I didn't think it would be that easy," Blair said as I gasped some air back and glared at him. "Now… what am I going to do to you?"

I spread my arms out and relaxed. "Whatever you want. Go to town."

Laughing, Blair pulled my sweater off as I tried to wriggle out of my pants. It took far too long to get naked, mainly because Blair kept cracking up, and I was horny-stupid, but we finally managed it. Blair sat back on his heels and tipped his head to one side.

"Too many options, you know?"

"Right now I don't care, just pick something, as long as it's fast." I was starting to hurt.

"Dial up touch," Blair said. "Not so far it'll hurt, just until you feel everything."

I concentrated until the sheets under me stopped feeling like cotton and started to feel like soft sand. "Okay."

And then he leaned over and shook his hair over my cock.

"*Christ*!" It felt like… well, like hair mainly, but it was also like thousands of little fingers sliding around all over my cock. I looked down and there was my cock buried in all that thick curly hair and I just lost it. Completely.

The smell of eggnog woke me up. I was lying on my back on the bed, and the mess on my stomach was still sticky, so I hadn't been asleep long. "Sandburg, what the Hell are you doing?"

"Hey, you're awake! Blair's voice floated up from the kitchen. I was worried I'd killed you or something for a while there. Until you started snoring."

"I don't snore." I know I don't snore. Weird noises wake me up; I'd have noticed if I snore.

"Yeah, right." Blair laughed.

"Why are you down there instead of up here?" I felt happy and sleepy; content at last, now that I'd finally taken that step forward. And all I wanted to do was curl around Blair and fall back to sleep.

"Warming up the eggnog."

"Why?"

Blair's evil laughter let me know sleep wasn't going to be on the agenda any time soon. And I didn't mind at all.

The End

SCIENCE FICTION

Enterprise - Tucker/Archer

Author: Akin
Title: Hallelujah
Date: 18.12.2004
Fandom: Enterprise/ Sci-fi
Pairing: Archer/Tucker
Rating: G
Summary: Archer and Tucker live together, but things don’t seem to move forward as good as they should. May a little help from Trip’s former schoolmates help?
Disclaimer: I do not own Enterprise or any of its characters and I don’t make money from this story, it’s purely for entertainment. Trip’s schoolmates are mine.
Feedback address: akin16sk@yahoo.com
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Note: This fic is intended to be light reading for Christmas time, I hope you will have fun. I want to thank all the awesome people who made this possible: Arcangel, Nick, Mirka
Beta: the awesome, most encouraging and loveable people Arcangel, Nick, Mirka, you are the best!

Hallelujah

“Hi, Jon, I’m home,” Charles Tucker strode easily into a spacious living room, wearing a uniform and a content smile.

Jonathan Archer looked up from a padd with a crossword to look at his younger lover. “You look good,” he remarked softly and tossed a few pads from the sofa to make place for the other man. Tucker took the cue and nestled there, leaving only an inch or two between them.

“Yeah, I’m real glad I ain’t runnin’ from bedroom to bathroom no more.” Just by the memory of his last two days Tucker actually turned greenish and shuddered.

“You may have caught the bug from James. He called today saying he’s been sick and that he won’t come to the baseball game.”

Tucker leaned back and settled into the crook of Archer’s outstretched arm. “James always caught all bugs running around the neighborhood and shared them with the whole family. I am sure we bred our own special Influenza tuckeritis when we were sick two months in a row, communicatin’ it between us over and over. That thing could kill ya.”

Tucker nestled more comfortably and sighed with pleasure. Only then did Archer notice that there was an envelope on the table that hadn’t been there before. He gently nudged with his occupied arm, disturbing Tucker. “What’s that?”

Tucker lazily rolled his head to look at the coffee table and murmured. “The mail’s mine.” He didn’t show any sign of enthusiasm to explore its contents.

Archer took the initiative, gently pushed away his disgruntled lover and studied the envelope carefully. After several moments of turning it around he gave up. “What’s in it?”

“No idea,” came an evasive reply, which to Archer’s taste was a little more evasive than a proper evasive, but polite reply should be. Nevertheless, Archer gave it no rest. “Are you sure?” He experimentally turned the envelope around once more, giving Tucker a meaningful, suspicious side-glance. “You don’t seem very curious.” He tossed it into his lover’s lap.

“But you’re burning holes in it with your eyes.”

Archer grinned at the fed up man wolfishly, knowing well he’d just won. He couldn’t quite contain his curiosity when Tucker actually opened and studied the mail, his expression exchanged rapidly, varying in depths and ranges from flat surprise to resignation. Finally after a pregnant pause, Tucker declared, “It’s an invitation to a meeting of my Starfleet class, after 15 years.” He handed over an old-fashioned photo on glossy paper.



“I love old stylish photos, but they cost a fortune.” Archer remarked half muttering, engrossed in studies of the old picture. “Seems you do more sports now,” he nudged his lover playfully, eliciting a small growl; a small appreciative teasing could never harm, but only a little. “You were a small class.”

“It’s a photo of our last year. A few dropped out and many went into aeronautics.”

“Who’s that? I know that face from somewhere!” Archer pointed at a red-haired woman standing in the middle.

“Who? Ah that, that’s Sophia Rigotti.”

“Nah, isn’t familiar, but I do know her.”

Tucker straightened on the couch lazily, letting his lover stew a little more. “Well, you may know her as Shirley Chevelley. She was in the remake of “Sting” we watched last week.”

The reaction following this news was immediate and also expected; Archer sat up alert. “You know Shirley Chevelley?”

Relishing his moment of teasing, Tucker answered at length. “Yes, I do. Quite good, actually. If you want, I can make you acquainted.”

“I don’t think I should go with you, it’s your class meeting…” Archer started with thinly hidden hope.

“Hmmmm,” Tucker pretended to study the invitation properly, “…they write I can take a spouse with me. Assumin’ you don’t mind actin’ as one…”

“We’ve been together for four years, I guess that counts as stable.”

“You aren’t just sayin’ that to meet Sophia, are you?” Tucker mockingly accused.

“Hey, it wasn’t me who came for a night because he got kicked out of his apartment and never left.” Knowing his lovers temper, Archer quickly toppled him and planted a kiss on his half parted lips, “Nor do would I want him to,” he amended and Tucker melted. “I suppose, it could be fun.”



*~ *~ *



Two days later they got out of the taxi in front of “Pasadena” pub. After the decision to attend was made, Tucker had actually started to look forward to it and his good spirits had lasted the whole time.

“Accordin’ to the invitation the whole pub is reserved for out meetin’. I guess there won’t be many people in.”

Archer looked at the relatively small pub dubiously. “I wonder what your class is like. Our meeting was somewhat boring…”

Tucker snickered loudly. “Borin’? With engineers? You have no idea? Didn’t you hear rumors about us?”

“Ah, you mean those fre…people with designing programs.” He smiled and caught the other man around the shoulders, but Tucker shook his arm away. “I will show you borin’!”

Archer nudged back. “No sweat, I’d never describe you as boring.” Before they could continue the teasing banter a hand on Tucker’s shoulder interrupted it by spinning the astounded engineer around his axis and enveloping him in a bear hug. “Trips!”

“Stu!” Tucker roared and enthusiastically returned the tight hug, both men taking longer than Archer took for appropriate. After a while they finally disentangled.

“Stu, this is Jonathan Archer. Jon, this is Stu Dawson.”

Archer considered the surprisingly big man with astonished surprise: the guy was tall with dark smooth hair and sparkling eyes. “The Mr. Dawson you chat with every other weekend is Stu?” Certainly he had never seen a man with more…muscles.

“See, told ya, we’re far from boring,” Tucker laughed as Dawson gave him yet another embrace, leaving Archer stare speechlessly, but Tucker ignored his bewildered stares still enthralled by the happy reunion.

“Trips, I have to warn you that…”

“Trips!” A high-pitched squeak tore into their ears making them squint, and an image of mating elephants sprang up in Archer’s mind. A tornado clad in bright pink swept through the room and before anyone knew what was going on, a slender, good looking woman leaned her rather developed chest and good physique against Trip while simultaneously ravishing the surprised engineer, snogging him senseless.

Dawson laughed heartily. “Too late. I wanted to warn you Sophia is here.”

When the mentioned lady finally released her prey, Dawson took his gaping friend by shoulders. “You sure you weren’t a swimmer? You almost made Trips brain dead.”

Tucker quickly came to himself and reddened up to his hair when the, in Archer’s point of view, used-to-be-good-actress announced louder than necessary. “I missed you Trippy! A lot!”, and suggestively batted her eyelashes.

“I m-missed you too, Sophia. Sophie, this is my…friend Jonathan Archer.” When it came to subtlety, Tucker wasn’t exactly excelling, but this time, just this time Archer was willing to overlook it.

“Ah, Jonathan Archer…”

He swelled with pride.

“Where have I heard that name before?”

His pride puffed.

“Of course, I was only joking, who doesn’t know the captain of Enterprise.”

She smiled at Tucker sweetly and grabbed him by hand. “I am sure your captain won’t mind if we go and meet the others,” she chirped, dragging the bewildered Tucker mercilessly with her.

Dawson observed Archer’s stupefied expression from the side. “Don’t take it bad, man. She’s a tornado, our Sophia. She and Trips always got on like a house on fire.”

“Imagine that,” Archer gritted his teeth.

“Brad!” Sophia’s squeaky voice coming from the other end of the pub rang in his ears making him see stars. “I think I need a drink,” he murmured to himself, but Dawson reacted to his silent plea instantly. “Sure, come this way, there is some champagne.” Only moments later Archer almost had deliciously cold and bubbling champagne in his hands. Almost. Suddenly Dawson, who was handing it over shrugged, spilling half of it all over Archer’s sleeve.

“I can give you a drink, right?” He asked with wide eyes.

“What?” Archer croaked confused. Why was this whole reunion a gig from a bad, very bad movie?

“You are not in AA or turning into a weirdo after alcohol or anything, right?” At Archer’s incredulous and defeated look he added, “Your face seemed familiar from the meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous. But you’re right they wouldn’t put a ship into drunk’s hands.” Dawson thrust the drink back into Archer’s waiting hands, spilling the rest of it. “Well, but you are Trips’ friend, so I had to ask. He has this luck of meeting the right people…”

Archer almost chuckled. “That he has. Uh, Dawson, maybe you shouldn’t drink that…” he indicated at the other, deliciously full glass of champagne, concerned.

“Why? Oh that? I’m not an alcoholic, my boss is. He smashed himself almost to death when we exchanged computers in the testing center and he thought he lost his whole work. Seriously, a scientist should always have a copy of their work on a datapadd, just not the one with comics ‘cos there is always someone who wants to borrow them.”

“Right.”

How could he have ever thought engineers were boring? They were intelligent, ingenious, many of them geniuses, but absolutely nuts, all of them. Maybe Starfleet engineers were a special breed. On the other hand, he didn’t see many strange people around the Gamma project or in the labs with his father. No. Nuts were only engineers coupled around Trip. Tucker really had a crack for meeting the right people…

Archer turned around and almost tumbled into another person standing there.

At the first sight he wasn’t able to distinguish the gender. The person was standing only a step away, gazing at him intently. It has greasy, but perfectly side-combed hair, a clean shirt and an old-fashioned dark blue suit. Its figure was lithe with a slightly too big head. Thick-framed old-fashioned spectacles multiplied the alien look. In the times of adolescence and meanness he would have called the ashtrays. From behind the dark-brown frames watched him equally dark and very intense eyes.

“Uh…hello.”

It tilted its head a little to the side, gazing owlishly, unresponsively studying him.

“Eh, I am Jonathan Archer.” Where was everyone? Someone had to save him from this genderless stalking imitation of life.

He looked wildly around, but saw no one at least remotely familiar. Everyone was having a good time; only he was stuck with that plastic doll.

“Don’t worry, Les is harmless.”

Thankful for the friendly, though unfamiliar voice, Archer looked around and almost wasn’t able to stifle a yelp when he stood face to face with a woman with dotted purple-black eyes. Who would have thought you haven’t seen everything after you met Klingons, Andorians, Vulcans and many others?

He might have been able to stifle his yelp, but not his wince.

To his utter relief the woman seemed to take it with lot of humor and dignity. “Yeah, being a testing subject does that to you.”

“I thought testing on humans is prohibited,” he blurted out in sympathy, feeling like an idiot for staring.

“ I did it myself!” She responded slightly offended.

One of those; all for science.

Her anger melted quickly as if it never existed and she grabbed him under the arm and smiled widely. “I know, medicine is such a fascinating science.”

“I’m sorry, you’re not an engineer?”

“Oh, yes. Engineering. I studied it as an auxiliary activity. We had four generations of engineers in the family, but medicine, that is a Science.” Her eyes gleamed. “So who are you with?”

“Trip Tucker.”

“With Charles. You’re Jonathan Archer. I heard about Enterprise and its medical laboratory. Your doctor Phlox is a genius,” her eyes gleamed again.

“If you like, I think, I can arrange a meeting.” It was probably safer to have an organized meeting than have a fanatical stalker jump the poor doctor in some dark alley.

“That would be wonderful. So you’re with Trips. I saw him with Sophia…again.” If it weren’t the contempt in her voice then it would have been the word that followed which irked him

“Again?”

“Ah, in our last year she bragged she will have sex only after marriage. It actually took her only one party and two beers then.”

“She and Trip were an item?”

“They spent a night together. Everyone knew that. I guess she felt a little guilty and played angry, but got out of it quickly and they got together for the last two months before final examinations. Then Trips went to Florida Keys and she to Hollywood.”

Archer disentangled his arm from her hold (he didn’t even notice when that happened) as gently as possible, almost wrenching it out of the socket in the process. Hurrying out to the door he only managed a curt “Excuse me!” over his shoulder.

At the other side of the pub, Trip Tucker watched in horror as his lover raced out with an indescribable expression on his face.

“Jon!” He shouted, but the captain was already at door and didn’t seem to have heard him.

Tucker tried to get through the crowd of people, but when he finally got out, Archer was nowhere in sight.

“Damnit!”

“You didn’t have to tell him about them!” He caught the reproach over his shoulder. With a bad feeling of foreboding he turned on his heel to a bunch of curious observers (this certainly wasn’t one of the times when he was willing to believe humans weren’t emotional hyenas), but he didn’t care about their number, at the moment his future might have been at stake.

“What did you tell him?” He addressed his former schoolmate standing in the middle of the bunch. He noticed the stares in the room nervously flickered between him and her.

“Nothing that isn’t common knowledge.”

A cold chill ran down his spine- anything of common knowledge wasn’t good.

“Everybody knows you and Sophia were together.”

In the utter moment of realization his world crumpled and in a moment came to life again and in the same desperate moment he realized he couldn’t decide whether his former schoolmate was really so terribly devilish or inanely clueless.

He shook his head in denial and felt familiar stinging behind his eyelids. He was thankful for Dawson’s arm that wrapped around his shoulder and maneuvered him into the back of the bar, “Come, Trips. I’ll buy you a drink, you look like you need it.”

After a moment a feeble thought emerged from his frozen brain, “No, I must go after him…,” he protested, but his voice sounded weak even to himself. “He can jump onto so many shuttles away, or cars, or busses. Jon isn’t one not to use public transport or even run if he needs to. He isn’t fast, but he can go for very long. Jon…” He sounded like he was ranting, it happened when he was stressed.

“Look, I am gonna call your hotel and ask whether he took his things. If not, there’s a chance he only needed some air. Give me your hotel card, I’ll call.”

Absolutely resigned and devoid of emotion, Tucker did as he was told to and then took a large gulp of beer someone had poured him.

After a very short moment Dawson returned, “Nope, he wasn’t there, all your things are just as you left them. I’m sure he only needed a gulp of fresh air.”

“Yeah. Maybe. Jon can be really impulsive at times.”

“And jealous.”

“Yeah and jealous.” Tucker admitted slowly, the beer he drank in between slightly getting to him. He never was a good drinker. Suddenly he got up from the table.

“I must look for him!” he declared resolutely.

“Trips, this city has 20 million inhabitants, where the hell do you want to look for him?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care. I can’t….”

“God! Ok! I am coming already.” Dawson grumbled, but there wasn’t his heart in it. Longtime friends did such kind of things after all, comforting their friends when down. Or sometimes deliver a vicious kick in the ass to get them out of it.

“Where’s your car?”

“Trips, we’ve been drinkin’. I’m not gonna kill us ‘cos of you.”

“Oh. Then we walk.” Tucker felt his logical reasoning had gone out of the doors somewhere along, either due to the beer or other factors he didn’t want to think of. They stumbled through the crowd until they were outside.

“Well, Cochrane, right or left?”

“Left!”

So they set out. Dawson was sure their grave mood was obvious, since everyone they saw eyed them with pity. Glancing a bit to the side, Dawson indeed found Tucker’s misery marring his features.

“Trips, he maybe didn’t hear you in back there. It was pretty noisy.”

“Yeah. I guess.” The colorless answer wasn’t satisfying by any means.

Dawson closed his eyes. “So. What’s the story between you and him?”

“We’ve been together for 3 years…you know, I really thought it could be something.”

“You didn’t mention him that much in our chats. I had no idea it’s so serious.”

“It could have been, but I guess now it’s over.”

“You are a sod, I ‘m sure he’s just jealous.”

“Is he?” Tucker asked dubiously.

“I don’t know, you tell me. You’d never mentioned him as your lover.”

Despite the tight situation Tucker blushed slightly. “Ah. We’ve lived together for 4 years. We met when I worked on Henry Archer’s beta engine. There were a few teething problems and…”

“I read your reports about it and they way you handled the intermix was…huh, sorry. Go on.”

“We met in the testing center when I defended the engine, from then on we were like two space revolutionaries, us against the world. The rest you know and somewhere along I’ve fallen….”

“…head over heels. How about him?”

“Clueless, hopelessly. It took him quite some time. After 12 years of friendship and a year of living together it occurred to him there is something. Even that was by accident when our new neighbor thought I was his husband.” Tucker smiled crookedly at the memory.

“And the problem is, you’re not.”

Tucker sighed and yet another time changed their direction randomly again. “The problem is, I don’t know what I am.”

“Well, he has stayed with you for 3 years.”

“I guess, I am an idiot. Three years and I still don’t know.”
“Maybe not an idiot, but it’s a good thing you’re not the security officer ‘cos with your insecurity you’d suck.”

Tucker swallowed a spicy comment about his friend’s tactfulness and continued walking in silence.

After more or less an hour he had no idea where they were or where to go, but that wasn’t important. He looked at Dawson questioningly. “Could…could you call the hotel again?”

With a kind impatient sigh Dawson grabbed the hotel card.

Again, the call lasted only shortly. “Nope, he wasn’t there, things still in, but I got the number of the serving lady, just in case.”

“You dog!”

“De nada. Now I guess that means I was right and your Jon went only for a gulp of fresh air.” Without Tucker’s realization they changed directions, returning back to the bar.

“Or he might as well left without his things.”

“Do you want to play martyr or what? I can’t cheer you up if you don’t try at least.”

They entered Pasadena. There was no sign of Jonathan Archer.

“My heart’s in pieces, my future probably too and you say I’m a dork?”

“I didn’t say that, but yes. I don’t think he even heard you. I sure as hell didn’t notice he was leaving until you screamed into my ear. And what if he did? He’s just a guy, others will come.”

“Don’t want them; want him.”

“God, you’re sappy, now don’t start crying. Thank you.”

Sophia went out and joined them. “Ah, don’t listen to him, Trips, it hurts him to see you like this,” she soothed him. “How about we forget about today and go to the old school.” She seemed to know what their friend needed.

“For old times’ sake?”

“For old times’ sake,” she confirmed and caressed his head the way a mother would.

“Are you coming too, Stu?”

“Not yet. I’ll drop by later with the others. At midnight.”

“You ain’t gonna help me to patch it up?”

“I’m not the patching type, Trips. Women are better for this.”

Tucker nodded and got up. “I guess, a little remembering will do me good. Catch up with you later.” And he left with Chevelley shoulder by shoulder.

Cooler gusts of air were messing their hair, but the night was quite warm. On contrast to his former roaming, Sophia appeared to know where to go. Nevertheless, he could not stop himself from looking around, so he listened to her only with one ear.

“The center is a permanent school now. They are even thinking of starting an academy there. They built a campus near it, but the school is still locked at night.”

Tucker only nodded mutely. The prospect of an academy was logical. The idea was lifting his spirits, but despite that a shadow of tragedy still hung over him. It seemed like neither of his two friends would be very successful at lifting his spirits.

He dived into his inner thoughts and didn’t even realize when they arrived to the school.

It was big and traditional, looming over them like a big shadow.

“It seems even bigger than it used to,” she whispered.

“That’s bull.”

“Ah, Tucker, you can spoil every sacred moment.” She cursed him half angrily and locked open the big door. They entered into eerily silent great hall.

“You’re right,” he sighed, “it seems bigger. Where was our base class? On the second floor next to the exhibition of trophies?”

They set out to the main stair flight. Their steps were dully echoing on stone floors.

It hadn’t changed much. Despite his misery and initial sulkiness Tucker felt the atmosphere of the building seep into him. He had never walked here during the night, not even in his student years. Walls that used to evoke respect and sometimes even dread were suddenly soaked with memories, both good and bad.

He didn’t want to think about the bad ones. It could take years ere he would have a chance to walk there again and this night, this night should belong only to the memories hanging in the dark air under the ceiling. They stopped at the top of the stairs.

“I’ll be right back,” Sophia whispered to his ear, but he barely heard her.

He made a few steps forward and they echoed hollowly, seemingly messaging the whole building he was there.

During a normal day only one pair of feet was too insignificant since the stone was worn by so many of them daily. Since the time Enterprise was launched every term the number of applicants doubled. There was much hope pulsing between the walls. But in the night, steps died down for a moment and their sound soaked into the walls just like everything that happened, good and bad. It was what made the building what it was, almost a breathing organism.

Suddenly a pair of hands wrapped around his arms and held him in place.

“Don’t turn.” A familiar voice whispered into the darkness, echoing ever so slightly.

“Jon…” Tucker sighed in pleasure.

“Hush. Just let me lead you and tell you something.” Archer gently prodded him forward, guiding him securely. A short moment they walked in silence,

“Do you remember the really first time we met?”

Tucker took his time by answering a little confused why Jon brought up that particular memory. “Yes, when I defended Henry’s engine.”

Archer chuckled softly. “No. No. There was one more time. No, don’t turn.

I was doing my final exam, right here in this building. Before it started I went to my mother’s office and you were there. Maybe for a consultation. It was probably your freshman’s year, you were so green.”

A soft chuckle full of memory tickled Tucker’s ears. They turned around a corner into a new corridor. There at the end of it was an open door into a small room that probably used to be a professor’s cabinet. The whole space was lit with candles.

They entered the passage and then the room really slowly. Then Archer gently turned the other man around. “Here it was. Here I met you for the very first time.”

“Miss Jones was your mother?” Tucker finally made the connection.

“Yes. That was her maiden name, Jones-Archer. Trip, there is something I want you to hear.

“There was a time when I didn’t live. I was so scornful for all the injustice that was done. I felt hurt. Without realizing it, I lived only for my payback. When you defended the engine, I thought I had gained a good ally, but you have been much more. You opened a door for me. I didn’t realize what a lonely life I had enclosed in these corridors before I got to know you.

“Today, I realized a very important thing: you came into my life and stood by me. When I got to know that you and Sophia…”

“We didn’t…” Tucker interrupted him.

“I know. But for a moment I thought you did and I was jealous. I also realized how easily you could disappear out of my life again and I don’t want you to.”

“I called after you, why did you leave? I thought…we are over.” Tucker couldn’t hold back his reproach, nor the fear he had felt.

Archer looked a little confused and it took him a short moment to put the jumbled pieces together. “I…didn’t hear you call after me. I hoped no one would notice me leave. I wanted to take care of something important.”

“Important? I thought you went away.”

Archer’s expressive brows knitted together when he realized what his lover lived through in the last hour. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. And there is still something I need to tell you. It’s important.” Archer coughed slightly, nervous. “Many years ago you opened the doors and I hope you’d say yes when I ask you if you’d like to go through it with me.”

There was a pregnant pause. “Just to make sure….are you asking me to marry you?”

To confirm his point, Archer took a small box with two plain golden rings in it. The candlelight was dancing around their clear rims lively. “I just bought them in the town. I told you it was important business,” he smiled gently. “I am pretty sure that I want to share everything with you. Yes, I want you to marry me and share one future.”

Tucker’s eyes gleamed, all forgotten. “Yes, yes I want to.”

“Sure he does! I wouldn’t say no to such an offer either,” a voice interrupted them and their just-about-to-happen kiss. “Now that was beautifully said, Jonny boy, did you rehearse a lot?” Archer rolled his eyes when he realized the bunch that in a matter of moments would choke them with congratulations were Tucker’s schoolmates that appeared out of no where.

“As a matter of fact, I didn’t.”

“Don’t lie, Jonny boy, we can’t see right through you. Ah, that man of yours has many talents Trips. You chose well.”

Tucker smiled giddily. “Yes, I think I did.”

Suddenly Archer burst at Sophia. “Now wait a minute, I called you to help me to propose Trip, but I wanted to have a quiet evening with my fiancé and ….you…them…”

The words seemed to fail him. “Is everyone here nuts?”

In the blink of an eye the whole stream of people pushing along the narrow side hall stopped and a few hands rose up.

“What are they doing?” Archer asked absolutely perplexed. Then he noticed his lover had his hand raised ever so slightly as well.

“We confess to our nuttiness.”

Archer only rolled with his eyes. He wasn’t sure anymore when these people were joking and what they meant, but his man came out from them, was one of them and you didn’t marry only the man, but his whole family as well. If he could survive all branches of Tucker relatives, a few engineers wouldn’t break the camel’s back.

“See, I told ya we are a lively bunch.”

He smothered his lover’s bright smile with a kiss, not that anyone around protested.

END

SCIENCE FICTION

Star Trek - Kirk/Spock

Title: A Gift of a Candle
Author: K’Chaps
Beta: Bigmackie
Feedback: justblackchaps at yahoo dot com
Rating: NC - 17
Fandom: Star Trek TOS/Science Fiction
Pairing: K/S
Date: Dec. 17
Summary: Spock enjoys the gift McCoy gave Kirk.
Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to Paramount.
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Note: This is the sequel to “The Scent of Pine” posted on Dec. 13. Again, in my mind, these took place after the first movie.

THE GIFT OF A CANDLE

Spock handed McCoy the gift and said, “Happy holidays, Dr. McCoy.”

McCoy looked at Spock and Kirk and smiled. “Thank you.” He sat down at a table and opened the long, narrow box, drawing out a decanter. “Just what I wanted.”

“It is the only beverage that Vulcans produce that could be considered ‘intoxicating.’” Spock glanced at Kirk. “Glasses, please.”

Kirk produced them with a flourish. They were tiny. McCoy filled them and picked up his thimble-full. “The smaller the drink - the bigger the kick.”

“Right.” Kirk said. “This stuff packs a punch, Bones.”

“How about a toast?” McCoy raised his glass. “To the Enterprise.”

They all raised their glasses and drank quickly. McCoy’s eyes bulged. Kirk began to cough. Spock raised his eyebrow. “It is much smoother than Romulan Ale or Saurian Brandy.”

McCoy blinked, opened his mouth, and wheezed, “Wow.”

Kirk laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. Spock considered the gift a success. He surveyed the officers’ party again. It was nearing termination. People were wandering off both alone and in pairs. Chekov, Sulu, and Uhura left together.

“Ready to call it quits, Spock?”

Spock nodded. He observed Dr. McCoy heading towards Mr. Scott. “You did warn him not to drink too much?”

“Indeed I did, unless he wants to wake up next week,” Kirk said. “He’ll be fine.”

Spock touched his mate on the arm. //He has improved//

//It’s a relief//

//I concur// Spock withdrew his hand. “Quarters?”

“Lead the way.” Kirk snagged one last glass of champagne.

Spock took them home. The quiet was welcome. “Did you enjoy the party?”

“Of course.” Kirk sank down onto the floor, leaning against a large pillow. “I like Christmas. It’s you and Bones that don’t.”

“I will meet with him tomorrow concerning his new cabin. It was an oversight on my part. I should apologize to him.” Spock removed his tunic.

Kirk smiled and took off his shirt, tossing it. “He’d just snort. Don’t worry about it.”

Spock looked down at his mate. “What is the purpose of the candle he gave you yesterday evening?”

“It smells good.” Kirk stretched. “Light it, if you like.”

“It is against regulations.”

“I won’t tell the captain if you won’t.” Kirk grinned at him.

Spock sensed the amusement. He quickly reconfigured the alarm. If the fire exceeded a certain size and heat, the alarm would sound. “Did you bring the particular method that Dr. McCoy used to light this candle?”

“Oversight on my part.” Kirk paused. “Got any matches?”

“I have a small survival kit.” Spock went to the cabinet behind his desk and pulled it out. “I believe there are matches in it.”

“Those kits are supposed to be kept in ship’s stores.” Kirk sighed. “I’m surrounded by officers who have no regard for regulations.”

Spock raised his eyebrow and lit a match, moving to the candle. “Yes, it does appear that way.” He took a step back when the wick caught fire. The scent assailed his nostrils. It was - not unpleasant. “Conifer trees are often used in Christmas rituals.”

“Yes.” Kirk went to the food dispenser and put his champagne glass down. “But also McCoy’s Georgia is thick with them. They smell like home to him.”

“Interesting.” Spock moved to his mate. They held each other. //You are my home//

//Come inside//

Spock broke contact and went to use the facilities. His mate followed after him. “Dr. McCoy was angry at first.”

“Yes. He wasn’t sure if he was being teased.” Kirk washed his hands and face. “And he was concerned that you might kill him.”

“I abhor violence.” Spock dried his hands.

“He’s seen you take a lirpa to me.” Kirk laughed and took off his boots. “Did he talk with you about pon farr?”

“He has me scheduled to see him in two days.” Spock helped remove his mate’s trousers before removing his own clothes. “I would prefer not to do that.”

“You should listen. He has become an expert on your physiology.” Kirk ran his hand the length of Spock’s body. “I’ve given you all the physicals, and he’s the expert.”

“True.” Spock had intended to cancel the meeting, but if it were important to his mate, he’d go and listen. Pon farr would be difficult for both of them. He put the matter aside until later and went to lock the door and dim the lights. The candle had made the entire cabin smell like his memories of Christmas. Those memories were best forgotten. His mate was waiting on the bed, and his erection was clear to see, even in the dim light. “You desire sexual satisfaction?”

“I believe I do.” Kirk smiled and opened his arms. “Unless you’re too tired.”

“I have three times the stamina of a human.” Spock stopped at the bed and went back for the candle. It should be close to them. “During the course of my research-”

“Wait!” Kirk scrambled up, his mind in a panic.

Spock paused. He placed the candle down carefully by the bed and pulled his mate close to him. “I don’t understand your concern.”

Kirk took a deep breath. “I thought you were going to pour hot wax on me!” He shook his head. “You and your damn research!”

“You’ve enjoyed the times I’ve utilized my knowledge to bring you fulfillment.” Spock soothed his mate and locked their minds together. They would feel each other’s pleasure as well as their own. “Pain is unpleasant for both of us.”

Kirk swallowed and laughed. “You’re right, and it doesn’t hurt, not really.”

Spock admitted to a certain curiosity. “You were worried about the pain. Yes?”

“It’s not painful.” Kirk captured Spock’s face and cast an image directly into his mind. “That’s what I was thinking about.”

Spock gasped softly. He had encountered that during his research, but discarded it as painful. Perhaps he’d made an error. “And you have done this?”

Kirk collapsed back flat on the bed. “No, but I’ve thought about it once or twice.”

“More times than that, I believe.” Spock gave the candle another look. “We should make a list of your desires so we can check them off.”

Kirk laughed again. He rubbed his eyes. “Statistics show that married couples engage in sexual activities on average twice a week, and rarely act out their fantasies.”

“And how many Vulcan/human marriages did they poll?”

“None that I know of.” Kirk spread his legs.

Spock considered the matter again. It might be interesting. He reached for the candle. His mate’s breathing increased. “If it hurts, we will stop. I am curious.”

“Spock, please.”

“I knew you would agree.” Spock settled himself right between Kirk’s legs. “Spread your arms out.”

Kirk groaned. He licked his lips and spread his arms up and out. “I’ll jerk.”

Spock put his hand on Kirk’s stomach. //You will NOT//

//I won’t// Kirk’s eyelids fluttered. His breath came fast, and his genitalia were completely engorged. Spock tipped the candle slowly. If it hurt, he would stop. The wax dribbled out and smacked Kirk’s chest. Spock gasped and so did his mate. Kirk clenched his hands into fists. “Spock!”

Spock quivered from the reverberation. It hadn’t hurt, but it had been hot. He poured again. His head spun, and the heat echoed through their bodies. “It is warm.”

Kirk didn’t answer in words. He arched his abdomen and groaned, beginning to pant. Spock agreed. This sensation was fascinating. He pulled Kirk’s organ up and stroked it while pouring the wax in lines across his mate’s body. The orgasm built quickly. Spock refused to allow his body to release, but he increased his stroking. Kirk trembled and orgasmed on his own chest. He gasped for air, trying not to writhe and jerk.

Spock watched, and he was captivated by his mate’s passion. It was strong. “Roll to your hands and knees.”

“Spock! You can’t! I’ll die!”

“Unlikely. You will, however, have another tremendous orgasm.” Spock left the bed long enough to get the lubricant that his mate liked. “You were correct. It doesn’t hurt.”

“No, but!”

Spock applied the lubricant to both of them before pouring hot wax down his mate’s back and buttocks. Kirk shook and cried out. Spock shuddered. The heat was exquisite, like hot sand under foot. He tipped the candle and surged deep. The results were overwhelming. The candle snuffed out from the movement. He moved his hips and poured every bit of it over his mate. When the wax was gone, he put the candle far away.

Kirk vibrated from their motions. His head tossed back, and he cried out, “So fucking hot!”

Spock rubbed the wax and leaned forward to bite Kirk on the shoulder. The shivers raced through them both. Kirk shivered and slammed back. Spock shoved him flat and allowed some of his Vulcan strength loose. It was hot. Heat curled around them. Their bodies moved as one, and Spock orgasmed. It ripped through him, up, down and over to Kirk. Kirk yowled like a sehlat, but Spock cried out only in their minds. The sounds twined around each other. Spock waited until his mate was nearly asleep before gently disengaging. “Shower?”

Kirk sighed. “I don’t have strength to walk.”

“You will thank Dr. McCoy for giving us the candle?” Spock separated their minds to a more comfortable distance. He was sated, completely.

“Either that or throw him to the floor and punch him. I’ll let you know which after a nap,” Kirk whispered and fell asleep.

Spock held him for sixteen minutes before sliding out and going to clean himself. Kirk could sleep anyway and anywhere, but Spock preferred to be clean. Returning to the bed, Spock shook his head. Wax was everywhere. It was an unpleasant result of their experiment. He put the candle on the ledge and found the hand-held vacuum. It sucked up the wax efficiently. He considered applying the vacuum to Kirk’s body, but they could shower later.

“We’re not using that in our lovemaking.”

Spock looked at the vacuum and his mate. “It could be fascinating.”

“I’m drawing the line at vacuum cleaners.” Kirk began peeling the wax off. Spock vacuumed it up. “Get my back, please. It itches.”

Spock complied, pulling it off and sucking it up. “You were not in pain.”

“Not really, no, but let’s only do that once a year, or never again.” Kirk sighed and collapsed down. “I do love Christmas.”

“This memory will be a pleasant one.” Spock stowed the vacuum and joined Kirk on the bed. They wrapped around each other. “Will you return to Dr. McCoy for intercourse?”

Kirk’s mind stalled. Spock felt it and moved to reassure him. Their thoughts enveloped the other. Feelings and thoughts flashed between them.

//You are everything to me//

//You are my mate//

//I can’t hurt you//

//He needs you, and you need him//

They separated. Spock bit Kirk gently on the shoulder. “You will know when it’s right.”

“Or you’ll tell me.” Kirk shut his eyes and curled up.

Spock arched around him. Kirk fell deeply asleep. Spock lay awake, thinking of doctors, candles, and holidays. The door chimed. He donned his robe and went to the door. He stepped out so his mate could sleep. “Dr. McCoy?”

“Merry Christmas, Spock.” Dr. McCoy handed him a present. “You forgot to open your gift.”

“I never forget.” Spock took the box. It was surprisingly heavy. “Captain Kirk is sleeping.”

“I should be too.” Dr. McCoy suddenly grinned. “Thanks, Spock.”

“I don’t understand.” Spock didn’t. What was the doctor talking about?

Dr. McCoy laughed and left him in the hallway with the box. Spock re-entered his cabin and returned to the bed. Kirk struggled up. “What’s going on?”

Spock put the box in his mate’s hand. “Dr. McCoy gave us a present. He insisted I’d forgotten to open it.”

“You never forget anything.” Kirk hefted the box. “Heavy.”

“Please open it.” Spock sat on the bed. Kirk took the paper off and ripped open the lid. He groaned, covered himself, handed Spock the box, and burrowed back under the blankets. Spock looked inside. His lower extremities grew heavy with need. “Candles. This is unexpected, but welcome.”

Kirk said nothing. He covered his head. Spock pulled out each candle to analyze its scent and color. They were simple yet elegant and each one had a different odor. He placed them around the cabin, coordinating them by color. “I will have to thank Dr. McCoy.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Spock extended his mind and read the easy lie. “Go to sleep.”

“Yes, husband.” Kirk’s mind drifted away.

Spock put the box and paper in the recycler. He re-lit the pine candle and joined his mate in the bed. “When you said that word, I felt you laughing on the inside.”

“It’s joy.” Kirk yawned. “Please let me sleep. I’ll give you a shift off.”

“I don’t require one.” Spock pulled Kirk inside the circle of his body. //Sleep, mate//

//McCoy called you my husband. I hadn’t thought of you in that way until he said it//

//The doctor is perceptive// Spock caressed Kirk and bit the back of his neck. //I cherish thee//

//And I love you// Kirk smiled. //Merry Christmas//

//And a joyous new year//

********
End

FANTASY

Smallville - Clark/Lex

Author: Angelee
Title: Even Super Villains
Date: December 18, 2004
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Clark/Lex (preslash)
Rating: R
Summary: Even super villains need to celebrate the holidays
Disclaimer: Heh, right!
Feedback address: angelee79912@yahoo.com
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at:  http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm 
Beta: By my sister Anna. All final errors are mine. With apologies.

Even Super Villains

“You can’t be serious?”

“Yes, I could.”

“Aren’t we suppose to be archenemies or something?” Lex asked, biting the tip of a very expensive pen.

“Hmm, yes. I think so.”

“Well, then?”

“Come on, Lex-don’t be that way.” Clark sighed softly. Green eyes giving Lex the biggest puppy dog eyes in the galaxy.

“Don’t do that. That would have worked when you were sixteen, but now that you’re twenty-five and a super hero it isn’t going to work.”

Clark moved closer to Lex. “Come on, Lex.”

“No. We’re suppose to be enemies. Enemies don’t spend the holidays at each other’s houses.”

“Please Lex? For me?” Clark pleaded.

“No.”

“Have you got something better to do?”

“Not really.”

“Well then, come on.”

“No. And don’t you have someone to go rescue in outer Siberia or a kitten to fetch from a tree in California?” Lex asked Clark, picking up the ever present blue bottle. “If you don’t, you could always just fly around looking cute-I mean all the girls and boys must love you in those really stupid red shorts and blue tights with all your assets displayed for the whole world to see.”

Clark looked down at himself. “Really?”

Lex took a long swallow of his water. “Hmm.”

Green eyes widened in horror. “No.”

“Yup.”

Clark’s big hands came out to cover said assets, cheeks bright red. “Mom, said I looked good.”

“She would, you’re her son. You could look like a real dumb-ass and she’d say you looked really cute. Did you ask your dad?”

“N…no.”

“Well, there you go. Maybe you should have. No proper super hero would go out dressed like that.” Lex got a thoughtful look on his face. “No, wait a second-thinking back at the way Batman dresses or those idiots at the Justice League. You fit right in. Not a brain cell to rub between the lot of you.” Lex shook his bald head. “Tis quite sad really.”

“Oh, God, Lex.”

“Oh-I wouldn’t worry about it, Clark. I‘m sure you gave many a girl and boy quite a thrill. Your substantial assets are displayed…” Lex cleared his throat. “very nicely, very nicely indeed. That should give you some comfort as well as quite a bit of popularity amongst the superhero world and their groupies.” Lex added smiling at the mortified man.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Clark asked, wishing he were dead or at least better covered.

“Hmm, enemies here.” Lex replied, waving a finger between the two of them.

“It didn’t use to be like that.” Clark currently dressed as Superman replied, sadly. Wrapping his cape around his body, extremely self-conscious all of a sudden.

“No.” Lex said. Looking over his office. Filled with all the latest expensive equipment. Everything a super villain needed to keep ahead in the super villain game. He looked at the man who had at one time been his best friend wondering if it was enough, if it would ever be enough.

“Where did we go wrong?” Clark asked softly.

“I don’t know. Time. Different life goals.”

Clark smiled. “Yeah, you want to conquer the world. I want to save it?”

“Yes.” Lex smiled back.

Wistfully they looked at one another. Clark was the first to break the silence. “Lex, can you just for this once forget we’re suppose to be enemies and come back to Smallville with me for the holidays?”

“Why? Do you think if I put myself under your mom and dad’s influence, I’d see the errors of my villainous ways?”

Clark moved closer to Lex, sitting on the edge of his desk. “Something like that. Mom misses you. She said if I got you to go back to Smallville, she’d bake you a apple pie and she’d have plenty of fresh homemade ice cream to go with it.”

“Oooh, a bribe.”

“If you like. Will you take it?”

Lex met Clark’s eyes. “Well, alright. I haven’t had homemade anything in a while.”

Clark reached out a hand and gently caressed the side of Lex’s face. “Thank you, Lex.” He said softly.

Lex cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Well, don’t get to excited it might be extremely noticeable in that stupid outfit your wearing and I’m not changing my villainously ways for apple pie.” He closed his eyes when a thumb stoked over his lips gently.

“No?”

“Hmm, maybe.” Lex conceded, nibbling carefully on the thumb. Taking it into his mouth he sucked on it for a moment before releasing it. “Well, we better get going if we want to make it to Smallville before the next millennium.” He said standing, noticing the glazed look in Clark’s eyes with a smile.

Lex picked up his car keys. “I thought we were flying?” Clark told him hoarsely.

“No way. We’re suppose to be enemies. I don’t want to be flown up to ten thousand feet by you and dropped. I wouldn’t look good as a bald, purple splat.”

“Don’t you trust me, Lex?” Clark asked him, bumping his hip against Lex’s.

Lex bumped back. “No.”

“Come on. I promise not to drop you.”

“And what do I get if I agree to fly with you?”

“You get to soar above the clouds and be one with the universe.” Clark told him, pulling him close.

Lex sighed, rubbing his face against Clark’s warm chest. “Very poetic, but I’m afraid of heights.”

“I’ll take care of you, Lex. I won’t let anything happen.”

Clark was nuzzling the top of his head making it hard to think. “Hmm, okay. Promise not to drop me?”

“I promise.” Clark told him, lifting him carefully into his arms

“Are we still enemies?” Lex asked, in a small voice. Almost as if he were afraid of the answer.

“We were never enemies, Lex. Long lost friends maybe, but never enemies.”

“Okay, I’m glad. Clark?”

Warm, green eyes looked into his. “Yes, Lex?”

“Take me home?”

“Yes, Lex.” Clark replied, holding Lex to him tightly.

“Apple pie?”

“Yes. With homemade ice cream.”

Lex watched the landscape whizzed by dizzyingly. “Nice.” Which it kind of was, in a weird sort of way.

Clark smiled at him kissing his forehead. “Yes, Lex. It is.”

As they flew Clark nuzzled the man in his arms. Lex nuzzled back, offering his lips after a long moment.

Lex pulled away slowly. “C…can you see where were going?”

Clark eyed Lex’s mouth hungrily. “Yup.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you running us into a tree or something else that might hurt alot.”

Clark chuckled. Licking at those tempting lips inches from his own. “Don’t worry so much I’ll protect you.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Hmm.”

“You and your family are trying to save me from myself, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Still think I can be saved?”

“There’s nothing to save. Lex. You are just misjudged and misunderstood. Even by you.”

“Huh?”

Clark kissed Lex’s nose. “Yup. You aren’t as bad as you think you are, Lex. You just need someone to show you that.”

“Oh.” Lex replied. “You?”

Clark pulled Lex close. “Yup. Me. Oh, look we’re here.”

Clark landed them gently in front of the Kent family home. He released Lex reluctantly when his mom opened the door.

“Clark. Lex.”

Both receiving happy hugs. Lex’s face was taken into loving hands as Martha kissed his forehead. “I’m glad you’re here, Lex.” She said softly.

Clark smiled when Lex blushed a bright red. “Thank you for having me.”

“There is always a place for you here, Lex.”

Martha frowned when she noticed Clark fidgeting. “What wrong, honey?”

Clark wrapped his cape tightly around himself. “Hmm, nothing, Mom.” He glared at Lex when his bald friend snickered. “I think I’ll just go change, okay?”

“Alright.”

Martha and Lex followed Clark into the house leisurely. “Have a seat, Lex. Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“So, Lex-what have you be up to?”

Lex added sugar to his coffee. “Oh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that.” He said vaguely.

“Hmm, okay. Pie?” Martha replied, letting it go.

Lex’s eyes lit up. “What kind?”

“We’ve got apple, cherry and blueberry.”

“Oooh, decisions, decisions. Apple, please. Where is Mr. Kent?”

“He went into town to get supplies. He’ll be back soon.” Martha replied, placing a large helping of pie in front of Lex.

“Oh, Mrs. Kent this looks great.”

“Mom are you trying to fatten up Lex up?” Clark asked as he walked into the kitchen. More comfortably dressed in his favorite flannel and jeans. He might not ever see his Superman uniform the same way again after what Lex had said about it. How the heck was he suppose to patrol now? His cape would only cover so much. Damn Lex.

He looked up to find Lex eyeing him mischievously. “Something wrong, Clark?”

Clark cleared his throat. “Nothing’s wrong, Lex. Mom, can I have some pie, too.”

“You sure can, honey. What kind would you like?” Martha told him from the kitchen counter where she was preparing supper.

“Apple, please.” He replied as he helped himself to a glass of milk. “What’s for dinner?”

Martha placed a large helping of pie in front of Clark as large as Lex’s rapidly disappearing piece. “Fried chicken with all the fixings.”

“Sounds good. Hmm, Mom this pie is great.”

Martha smoothed her son’s soft hair watching the way Lex followed the move. “I’m glad you like it.” She replied, going over to lay a gentle kiss on Lex’s bald head. “How about you, Lex-do you like the pie?”

Lex blushed a bright red again at the gentle, loving caress. “It’s very good, Mrs. Kent. Thank you.”

Clark smiled at his friend, earning a small scowl. “Mom makes the best pies in two states, huh-Mom?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, but I do thank you for the compliment. Once you’re done with the pie you boys could go to the fortress till dinner’s done.”

Clark smiled at Lex. “I think Mom’s trying to get rid of us so she can concentrate on dinner. Ready to go, Lex?”

Lex rose from the dining room chair quickly grabbing the last little bite of pie. “Yes, I’m ready. Wait, wait I want another drink of coffee. Okay, now I’m ready.”

Martha watched them leave shaking her head. Smiling at the way Clark gently urged Lex down the steps with a big hand in the middle of his back. She knew her son loved Lex. Had always known. That was the whole reason she had urged Clark to bring Lex over for the holidays.

She’d watched Clark mope and worry after Lex for years. Seen how Clark had skirted the law to keep Lex from getting into to much trouble with his antics. Had watched when Clark picked up a newspaper or magazine with a picture of Lex carefully running a finger over his face.

She wanted Clark happy and if having Lex in his life did it then so be it. She just hoped they’d be able to finally acknowledge their feeling to one another. She signed softly as she began peeling potatoes.

“Well, this hasn’t changed very much.” Lex said as he climbed the stairs leading to Clark’s fortress
.
“No, not much.” Clark agreed.

“I like the Christmas tree you have in the living room.”

Clark sat on his worn couch. Patting it gently to encourage Lex to sit. “Yeah, it’s cool. I bet yours is a lot bigger.”

“Yes, it is. It reaches all the way to the ceiling, but it’s not really the same. Not quite as homey as yours.”

“Lex, where did we go wrong?” Clark asked, for the second time today.

“I don’t really know.” Lex answered, as he sat.

“I miss you.”

Lex turned to look at Clark. “Do you?”

“Yes, a lot.”

“I miss you, too.”

Clark moved closer. “Can I kiss you?”

Lex eyes Clark’s sensual mouth inches from his own. “Well, I don’t know. What are you offering? Considering that I’m not really that kinda boy.”

Clark chuckled softly laying his forehead against Lex’s. “I have to offer something just to kiss you?”

“Yup.”

“Okay. I guess this has been coming for some time. How about if I offer you a sense of permanency. Someone you can always come to for warmth and love.”

Lex wrapped his arms around Clark. “You?”

“Yes.”

“Clark, that’s asking for trouble. Because of who I am you’ll always doubt my intentions no matter what I do to alleviate your doubts. That’s been our trouble before.”

“I know, Lex. But this time I’m offering you something else.”

“What?”

“My love. I love you, Lex. I hadn’t realized that until it was to late.”

Lex pulled away slightly. “That doesn’t solve our problem. You’ll still doubt me.”

“Lex, I’m sorry I caused you to feel this way. What if I promised to never doubt you again?”

Lex snorted gracelessly. “Right.”

“No. No, Lex. I swear I’ll never doubt you again.”

“Okay, then here’s a scenario-I’ve just bought a factory in let’s say Japan. I close it down to put a high rise parking lot, putting ten thousand people out of work. What do you say to that?”

Clark’s green eyes widened. “You did that?”

“Clark, it hypothetical. What do you say?”

“I, huh-nothing. I say nothing.” Clark replied, not wanting to jeopardize their growing closeness.

Lex pulled away from Clark, walking away to stand by the open window. “Right. That’s the whole reason it’ll never work. You’d question me about the factory closing without asking to see what I have planned for those ten thousand people who just lost their job.”

“Like what?”

Lex turned to face Clark. “The fact that I’d just bought the four factories right next to it and incorporated those ten thousand into those factories as well as hired another five thousand. I tore down the factory to make room for the extra employees.”

“Oh.”

“Do you see now what I mean? You will always doubt my motivations no matter what. I will never be able to win where you’re concerned.”

Clark felt his eyes fill with tears. “What do we do then?”

“I don’t know, Clark. I just don’t know.” Lex told him sadly.

“I love you, Lex.”

“I know you do, Clark. I love you, too. In this case I just don’t think it’ll be enough. Maybe you should just take me back to the penthouse.”

“No, Lex. You just got here.” Clark protested, tearfully.

“I don’t belong here, Clark. Our conversation just proved that.”

“No, Lex.” Clark told him. Getting up to wrap his arms around Lex from behind. “No.” He whispered against his ear. “No.”

“Please, Clark-don’t make this any harder than it has to be. Let me go.”

“No. Never.”

“You have to.”

“Says who?”

Lex tried to pull free. “I do.” Unable to do so as Clark tightened his hold.

“No.”

“Please, Clark. Let me go.”

He felt Clark’s warm tears against the back of his neck. If he’d know this was going to happen he never would have agreed to come with Clark.

“I love you, Lex.” Clark whispered.

“Sometimes love is not enough.”

“It can be the building block to something stronger if you allow it, Lex.”

“What do you mean?”

Clark pulled Lex to face him. “Stay. Let me love you. No jumping off the handle, no condemnations. Just understanding and unconditional love.”

“You can’t do that, Clark. It’s not in your nature, where I’m concerned.”

Clark cupped Lex’s face in gentle hands. “I can. I swear to you I can. Please, Lex. Please?” He said laying butterfly kisses all over Lex’s unhappy face.

“Clark.”

“Please, Lex.” Clark whispered opening his mouth wide as he took Lex’s lips hungrily, desperately.

Lex responded in kind, wanting it. Wanted Clark with everything in his heart and soul. Slowly he pulled away.

“Clark.”

“You want me, Lex. I know you do.”

“That’s never been in question.” Lex told him. Gently running his hands over Clark’s tear-streaked face.

“Then stay with me.” Clark begged.

“Clark.”

“Please, Lex.”

“For the holidays?”

Clark gathered Lex to him. “For always, Lex. For always.”

Lex sighed heavily. “You don’t know what your asking.”

“Please, Lex. Give me a chance. Give us a chance, please.”

Lex looked in to Clark’s pleading green eyes. “Alright, Clark. Alright. Just don’t cry any more.” He said, unable to stand the hurt in those beautiful eyes.

“Oh, Lex.”

Lex smiled as he was picked up and swung around. “Careful. I’m only flesh and blood.”

He was given another open mouthed, hungry kiss. “You’re a lot more than that, Lex. A lot more.” Clark told him when he pulled away. “You’ll stay?”

Lex wiped the tears that had not stopped. “Yes, Clark.”

“For always.”

“If that’s what you want.”

Clark pulled him into a bear hug. “That’s what I want. Lex?”

“Yes, Clark?”

“Did you really mean what you said about my Superman uniform?”

“Huh?”

“About it showing all my hmm-assets?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, God. Will you help me come up with another uniform?”

“Nope.” Lex replied, nibbling Clark’s neck.

Clark shivered. “But why?” That felt good.

“They’re my assets now too-aren’t they?” Lex said, cupping Clark possessively.

“Y…yes.” Clark said, shivering. Lex’s touch felt good.

“Then I don’t mind them out for the whole world to see because that’s all they can do. They can’t touch ‘cause their mine. All mine.”

Clark laughed. “Now that’s just wrong, Lex.”

“Why?”

Clark thought about it for a moment. “Hmm. I don’t know.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“These holidays are going to be the best ever.” Clark told him, happily.

“Really?” Lex asked, pulling Clark’s flannel shirt free from his jeans.

“Oh, yeah. Wanna know why?”

“Because even reformed super villains need to celebrate the holidays?”

“Oh, yeah.” Clark replied, tossing the shirt off to the side. “And because one certain super villain finally admitted to loving a certain super hero. Isn’t that right, Lex?”

Lex’s very expensive shirt flew off to join Clark’s flannel. “Yes, loves him very much.”

Clark’s green eyes were sparkling in happiness. “I love you, Lex.” He said softly.

“Good. Now let’s have the super hero show the super villain just how much.” Lex said, opening his arms wide.

Clark went. These were really going to be the best holidays ever. Lex was here and Lex loved him. What else could a super hero or even a super villain want?

END

FANTASY

Smallville Nightwing X-over - Clark/Dick

Author: Angyl & Rina
Title: Resolutions
Date: Due Dec. 15 for Dec 18 posting
Fandom: Fantasy, Smallville-Nightwing Xover
Pairing: Clark Kent/Dick Grayson
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The boys head to Gotham for Bruce's New Year's Eve Party and fun ensues.
Disclaimer: We don't own 'em. If we did we wouldn't have to work for a living!
Feedback address: angyl@rogers.com  and Rina83@msn.com
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Beta: Janet Kofoed

*~*~*~*~*~
Resolutions
By Angyl & Rina
*~*~*~*~*~

Gotham Airport, December 29, 2004


Dick Grayson grinned as he stepped out of the terminal to see the sleek black Rolls waiting for him. Leave it to Bruce to pick them up in style.

The bump of a familiar body behind him made him chuckle. "Forgot to watch where you were going again, didn't you?" Dick asked, turning to his lover of six months, Clark Kent, formerly of Smallville and currently a resident of Metropolis and a first year university student at Metropolis U.

The couple had just spent a wonderful country Christmas on the Kent family farm, and now it was time to visit the other side of their rather bizarre family, this time in Gotham. New Year's was being spent at Wayne Manor.

Grinning at the ingenuous blush that spread over Clark's cheeks, Dick couldn't help but lean in and steal a heated kiss. He was a romantic sap when it came to the younger man, and he couldn't deny it. Head over heels, completely gone, in lala land. Adoration wouldn't be too far off the mark.

Distantly he heard the snapping of camera shutters and the murmur of reporters. This was big news, after all. Dick Grayson, adopted son of Bruce Wayne and heir to the Wayne family fortune, had just arrived back in Gotham and was kissing another man in broad daylight. The scandal rags were going to have a field day. The Wayne Heir was gay!

Shrugging his shoulders mentally, Dick didn't bother to stop what he was doing; kissing Clark was far too pleasurable. It would have come out sooner or later, irregardless, and quite frankly he wanted the whole world to know he was in love with this man. It was only when he heard a familiar throat being cleared that he managed to pull away and look at Alfred with a chagrined 'oops, caught in the act' look. "Hey Al, uh, sorry, but he was just too cute to resist!"

"I'll take your word for it, young sir. It's good to have you home again. And welcome home to you too, Master Clark. Let me just take your..."

"Drop those bags, Alfred Pennyworth!" Dick growled, shooting the older man a dirty look. "We can take care of them ourselves." Walking over to the man he considered a grandfather of sorts, Dick hugged him fiercely. "I've missed you," he grinned, and then let the Englishman go, watching his fight between pleasure and the need for proper British decorum.

"Bruce working today?" Dick asked, flinging his and Clark's suitcases into the trunk as he listened to Alfred's affirmation. Dick continued to ignore the reporters clamoring for a good sound byte with the ease of one long familiar with this lifestyle, but Clark had a deer in the headlights look going, so Dick took pity and nudged him into the Rolls, glad of the blackout windows that Bruce always insisted on.

"You okay?" he murmured as Alfred closed the door and rounded to the driver's seat, "You look a little shell shocked."

Clark shook his head and looked out at the windows at the mobs of photographers. "It's easy to forget, when it's just you and me, just who you are."

"I'm the guy who's so madly in love with you he'd be your devoted slave if you just asked," Dick replied, finger hooking under Clark's chin to turn him back towards Dick. "I wish I had the power to make them disappear, but despite the costume I'm still a normal type human. Nothing up my sleeves, I'm afraid.

"That said, just say the word if you want me to tone it down in public while we're here. I mean no one gives a rat's ass," up front Alfred cleared his throat loudly in reminder, causing Dick to blush slightly. "I mean, no one cares who I am in Metropolis because they've got Luthor to chase after, but here... I'm one of the big fish. I get that. If you want me to behave myself, well, I won't say that it won't be a problem, but I'll do it for you."

Clark smiled and cupped a large hand around the side of Dick's face. "I can deal with it, Dick; I have before, and besides, you need people gawking at your gorgeousness or you won't be fit to live with."

Dick quirked an eyebrow at the taller man. "You know, I _can_ ask Al to put you in the guest wing, brat," he threatened without heat. "Keep pushing your luck and I may just do that."

"You can, but you won't," Clark grinned. "And he wouldn't do that even if you did ask, right, Alfred?"

"As you say, young sir. One does not interfere in a couple's domestic life if one knows what is best for one's health. Especially when the partners are yourself and Master Richard," Alfred intoned solemnly, although the eyes that glanced through the rearview mirror were dancing with mirth.

"Gee, the support is underwhelming," Dick sighed in defeat. "Guess that means I'm stuck with you, doesn't it?" he laughed, pulling Clark in for a kiss. "Good thing I love you as much as I do."

Clark snorted. "Like you'd ever be with anyone you didn't want to be," he chuckled.
Dick sniggered in agreement. "Well, that only goes to prove that I want to be with you, doesn't it?" the raven haired man laughed, wrapping his arm around Clark's waist and settling himself so that his head rested on the taller man's shoulder. Outside, the busy streets of Gotham gave way to the quieter suburbs and finally the peace of the country as they left the city and headed towards Wayne Manor.

"So, Al, is Bruce having the party at home this year, or are we taking over the Gotham Arms ballroom again?"

"Master Bruce wanted to have only the private celebration at home this year, young sir. The ballroom has been reserved for the one that will be the actual society function."

"Leave it to Bruce to cover all the bases," Dick had to laugh. "Ready to dance the night away with me, hot stuff?" he continued, leering up at Clark.

"Unless Tim cuts in," Clark chuckled. "And you know Barbara will want to get out there with both of us."

"Tim is keeping his hands to himself. If he wants to experiment he can go bother Impulse or someone, you're off limits," Dick growled. "As for Barbara, I'd rather take on the Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Blockbuster _and_ Lady Vic at the same time rather than making her cranky so you're on your own if she pinches, fondles or other wise manhandles anything."

Clark looked at Dick strangely. "I don't think she'll be doing that, I just meant she'll probably want to dance with us both."

Dick colored with a slightly guilty flush. "So I get a little bit jealous when it comes to you, can't help it. I'm crazy about you."

"Actually, you're crazy all the time, but that's one of the things I love about you," Clark chuckled, leaning over to kiss Dick soundly.

"Oy, I'm in love with Shecky Green now," Dick moaned but allowed himself to be seduced by Clark's mouth.

"Who?" Clark muttered, nibbling Dick's lower lip.

"Shecky Green, you know, the comedian... never mind," Dick sighed while Alfred coughed to hide his amusement. There was no accounting for the comedic tastes of some people.

Deciding to just give in and go with the flow, Dick allowed himself to be seduced by Clark's mouth, spending the rest of the journey to the Manor in a happy fugue of making out in the back seat of 'dad's' Rolls Royce.

Coming up for air, Clark realized with a start that they weren't moving any longer, and in fact, were pulled up in front of Wayne Manor and the owner of said manor was looking in at them through the open door, an amused expression on his face. "Guess we're there," he muttered, fighting his blush and sighing when he failed.

"Not yet but we will be," Dick whispered, nipping on Clark's earlobe before climbing out of the car to ignore the proffered hand of his 'dad' and pull Bruce into a bear hug.
Bruce's eyebrow went up a notch as he returned the hug. "What, you haven't been receiving enough affection from your boyfriend, Dick?" he teased with mild amusement. "Or are you becoming less 'citified'?"

"Elitest snob," Dick shot back with easy grace. "So, how goes the world of corporate finance, philanthropy and playboy-ism... is that _Selina_?" Dick asked, slacked jawed at the sight of the sultry raven-haired vixen who was the alter ego of none other than Catwoman poking her head out of the open doorway. "Bruce? Care to explain?"

"Not here. Later. Clark, it's good to see you again. How are Jonathan and Martha?"

"Good thanks, Bruce," Clark smiled, shaking Bruce's hand, then scooting around the back of the car. "I've got that, Alfred," he said, grabbing their bags when the older gentleman opened the trunk.

Alfred fought against a smile as Clark hefted the luggage with no sign of strain. "I must say, you make me feel rather superfluous, Master Clark," he teased, closing the trunk after Clark had finished. "Well, you'll be in your usual room, young sirs, and I'll leave you to it. I have to return to overseeing the preparations for the party.

"You may want to at least give a few of the bags to Master Dick, young sir, we have guests in the house at the moment. Keep up appearances, so to speak." And with that Alfred returned to the car and swung it around the manor to park it in the garage.

"Here, Clark, let me take a few," Bruce offered, taking the top suitcase and a valise from the younger man. Dick too took a few items to distribute their things equally.

"Dick? Try and get along with Selina, okay? She's... important to me," Bruce requested quietly as they headed up the steps.

"Just don't expect me to call her 'mom', okay?" Dick said with a sigh, giving in. "Does she know about my extracurricular activities? I need to know what to," Dick paused, forcing back the 'be suspicious of' he'd nearly tacked on the end of his sentence, and then quickly finished, "avoid if need be, conversation wise."

"She knows you were Robin and that you used to live in Bludhaven where Nightwing once worked. She also knows you live in Metropolis now with Clark, and that Nightwing has relocated there. Chances are she's figured it out, but she hasn't said anything."

"Right, I'll avoid the subject then. Just tell her to keep her claws off of Clark, okay? He's claimed," Dick teased, knowing full well that his lover was listening. "I don't want to have to get into a catfight for him."

"Dick," Bruce groaned. "That's atrocious, even for you."

***

Dick slapped Clark's hands away from his bowtie, straightening it for the umpteenth time. "Babe, I love you but if you touch that once more, alien strength or not I _am_ gonna spank you. I'll find a way to do it, believe me!"

That said, Dick finished tying his own tie before turning back to the mirror to give himself a final, critical once over. "I love the party, I love seeing my friends and family, but I hate the other stuff that goes on at these things. If it were just all of _us_ it would be great!" Dick sighed, turning back to Clark, "but, Bruce is the richest man along the eastern seaboard, head of multiple charities, and fodder for the press so... there's gonna be schmoozing."

Wrapping his arms around his lover's waist, Dick pulled Clark close. "Don't leave me alone for a second, promise? I might have some rabid mama trying to get me in a compromising position with her daughter so they can get their hands on the Wayne family fortune. You have to protect me from the hordes!" he whispered melodramatically, his blue eyes dancing with merriment.

"Should I go find the batcuffs?" Clark asked, grinning mischievously.

"How about we save that for _after_ the party," Dick purred, tugging Clark down for a hungry kiss. "You can tie me up and do whatever you want with me."

"Oh YEUCH!!!! That is one mental image I really can live without, pervs!"

Tim Drake lounged in the doorway that separated Dick's bedroom from his lounge area, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear. "You two really gotta learn to lock the doors if you're gonna do stuff like that. Oops, that's right, they _were_ locked. Damn, I'm good!"
Dick bit back the urge to strangle the teen, knowing that Tim was just being... Tim.

"Hey, you pick the locks, you get what you deserve. I'm just sorry we weren't hot, sweaty, naked and moaning - just so we could have given your voyeuristic tendencies something really worth watching."

"Awh man, that's _rank_, dude," Tim shuddered, looking thoroughly repulsed. "I've seen your naked ass enough when you were getting it sewn up for one thing or another, I so don't need any more mental scarring in my young life."

"Then don't pick the locks," Dick smirked, winning the round. "So, party time yet?"

"Babs just arrived, said she wanted to see her boys, so I'm here to tell her boys to appear before her highness. Then we hop in the cars and get whisked off to make our 'grand family entrance' and we'll be one big happy batclan, incognito of course. Commissioner Gordon will be joining us there to escort Babs, since you've gone and gotten yourself attached and I'm too young."

Clark sighed, trying hard to look put upon. "No kinky sex for us for a while then, Dick; but Tim, if you want to learn anything new, I'm sure we can show you later."

"Yeah, you should see what we get up to when Clark decides to float," Dick chuckled evilly.

"_DUDE_! My innocent ears can't take this! I'm outta here!" Tim whined, bolting out of the door.

"That was far too easy," Dick mused. "Remind me to check the room for hidden cameras and mikes when we get back after the party." Reaching for his tuxedo jacket, Dick quickly shrugged into it and buttoned it, checking the line in the mirror with one last, approving glance. "C'mon, babe, let's go ring in the new year with family and friends and the rest of Gotham society."

***

The champagne flowed almost as freely as the gossip and innuendo. Bruce presided over his bash with an absentminded panache that fooled even the sharpest of eyes, but all the while watched, learned and listened. He got some damned good intel and what he didn't get, Tim, Dick or Selina did.

It was nice, not having Catwoman as an adversary anymore but as a psuedo ally. Oh, she still went her own way with her P.I. agency and they still clashed from time to time, rather like Dick did with the Huntress when they met up, but in the end they were all on the same team, they simply had different methods. He had a strange family, but it was a close knit one nonetheless.

"Enjoying yourself, lover?" Selina purred, sidling up next to him and wrapping his arms around her waist as she took a place in front of him.

"Surprisingly enough, yes," Bruce replied, satisfied with his lot for once. Even playing the fop didn't bother him so much tonight, because the ones that mattered to him the most were close by and knew him for what he was.

Selina's sharp feline-like eyes swept the dance floor and settled on Dick, who was happily doing some dirty dancing with his beau, making no effort to at least attempt to follow decorum. "He's gotta be something special to have captivated the little bird as much as he has," she commented quietly.

"You'll find that our Mr. Kent is a man of incredible depth and scope, despite his wholesome, down home exterior. He's definitely a cut above," Bruce murmured, an enigmatic smile on his face as he thought of just how far 'above' Clark had come from. "He gives Dick a stability that he's never had before. He's given him something that he's never had before - unconditional love."

"Bruce..."

"No, Selina, it's okay. I could never be what he lost, I didn't know how. I was a friend, a guardian and a teacher. I love him, make no mistake, he's my son in every way but blood, but ours has always been a rather... tempestuous relationship. Clark gives him peace. They fit," Bruce smiled. "They're going to make it, I think. Not even what we do will come between them."

"Then that's all that matters, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes it is." And with that Bruce tugged Selina around and began to sway with her to the music.

***

Dick ran his tongue along Clark's throat before closing his lips over the other man's pulse point, just above his collar and sucked hard. His hips ground into Clark's teasing them both and keeping them constantly on edge.

"I want you," he whispered, finally releasing Clark's throat. "I want you naked, sweating and moaning under me. I want to be buried balls deep inside you while you writhe on the bed, calling out my name, begging me to do something, _anything_ so that you can get off. And then I want to do it all again."

"Not that I'm complaining, but out here on the dance floor?" Clark rasped, shuddering as Dick aroused him with the ease of long familiarity. "Or are we planning on making a break for it?"

"Well I could just keep teasing you and getting you all hot and bothered," Dick purred, nipping at Clark's earlobe. "Or we can sneak up to the roof, lock the door and you can do your stuff," the shorter man continued, a wicked glint in his eyes as he made a swooshing sound to indicate flight.

"I know we really should stay until midnight, toast in the New Year with Bruce and the family, but I'd rather be inside you when we count down or vice versa. We could always trade body shots with champagne afterwards just to keep up with tradition. Mmmm, the idea of drinking champagne from your skin sounds delicious, actually."

"So you want me to break into our room to keep you from freezing so we can do that after vanishing?" Clark asked, grinning, his hands sliding down Dick's back to cup his ass.

"Sounds about right," Dick smirked. "A little up up and away and we're that much closer to a bottle of champagne and my lips and tongue on your naked bod. Or we can take it the conventional way and go in one of the limos that Bruce keeps on reserve for the party guests to get home."

Clark thought about that for a moment. "Hmm, better take the limo; don't want people wondering how we vanished."

"Oooh, which means we can make out in the back again!" Dick crowed, suddenly ceasing to dance. Grabbing Clark's hand, he pulled his lover towards Bruce, deciding to tell the older man they were leaving before bolting for it.

"Let me guess, you're going?" Bruce said dryly as they approached.

"Hell, yes! We're outta here. I have _other_ plans for counting down the New Year. Catch you in the morning, or whenever we crawl out of bed, Bruce. Try not to do anything that we wouldn't do," he snickered, glancing at Selina. "And try to keep the whips out of the bedroom, okay?'

"Get out of here, you brat!" Bruce snarled in amusement, waving them off.

"You heard the man, c'mon babe, let's blow and then _blow_."

***

The limo ride was spent in a haze of fogged windows, sly gropes and heated kisses. The two men were breathless and disheveled when they finally tumbled out of the limo at 11:30 pm. Just half an hour to a new year.

Racing up to their rooms, Dick laughed and groped Clark's ass, grateful that his lover was simply being Clark and not the son of Krypton, Kal-El. He wouldn't have been able to keep up with him otherwise.

The door to their rooms slammed shut, the locks were turned and Dick tugged Clark close, flicking on the radio to hear the master of New Year's himself, counting down the minutes in Times Square, New York, the strains of Auld Lang Syne playing in the background.

Tugging his tie loose, Dick left it draped around his neck, the buttons of his tuxedo shirt half undone and the shirttails pulled out of his pants. He looked debauched and rakish, a sexy sort of rumpled, and yet all he could see and think of was Clark. "I love you, God, how did I get so lucky as to find you and keep you in my life?" he murmured, his fingers dragging through the inky blackness of Clark's hair, pulling the younger man down for a passionate kiss.

"You saved me from muggers and I got shot at your feet, remember?" Clark murmured after they broke apart, their hands still roaming over each other's bodies. "And I feel the same; I wouldn't be the person I am today without you, Dick, and I want you to know that." That said, Clark slid his hands under Dick's shirt, tracing the scars on his body with his fingertips as he got the remaining buttons open and pushed the fine white cotton off Dick's broad shoulders, then leaned in to lick at a nipple.

"Mmm," Dick moaned, distracted by Clark's oh so talented mouth. "Scared the shit outta me, seeing this punk kid get shot in front of me while he was trying to play hero. Who'da thought I'd end up with yet _another_ alien lover?" he teased quietly. "You're a keeper, though. Not throwing you back, not giving you back, and not ever letting you go. I love you so damned much, Kent, it isn't funny."

Dick maneuvered them into the bedroom and pushed the distracted Clark down onto the bed before nimbly straddling his waist. Looking down into the face of the man he'd committed to sharing his life with, Dick grinned, a sly, little boy grin. "I don't have any bat cuffs but I do have a spare set of my own in the closet. Or do we wait to do the kinkier stuff when we know Tim can hear us?"

Running his hands over Dick's hips, Clark smiled up at him. "Save the cuffs for later; I think I remember something about you drinking champagne off of me and I'll make sure to keep it chilled for you. Oh, and for the record, I'm not going anywhere."

"Glad to hear it, otherwise I might have to stalk you until you took me back," Dick replied, half jokingly. "And the champagne can wait for later too; we'd have to go downstairs to get it. All I need right now is you."

Bending at the waist, Dick's hands wrapped themselves in Clark's hair and he kissed his lover hungrily, the desire for the younger man never waning despite the length of time they'd been together. Hands released and moved downwards, fumbling with tie, shirt, cummerbund and pants. Fingers that were normally as limber as the rest of him became clumsy with want, but still he managed to get the job done.

Breaking off the kiss, Dick looked into Clark's passion glazed eyes. "Normally I can walk a wire the width of my thumb as easily as I walk down the sidewalk. I can fly almost as well as you; I can soar and tumble; twist and flip and bend my body to suit my needs, but_ you make me clumsy. My body is my instrument, and you make me lose control of it. God, how I adore you."

Slamming his lips back down onto Clark's again, Dick shimmied out of his own clothes so that he was as bare as the man beneath him. Shifting and twisting, he found the position he wanted, reached back, and used a hand to guide Clark into him, groaning harshly as he sank down on the younger man with no preparation, needing this raw, primal connection with him.

'Topping from the bottom', the phrase went, but to Dick it was just another extension of their lovemaking. There was no top, no bottom. Sometimes he made love to Clark, other times Clark made love to him, and tonight he was topping from the bottom, he supposed with a dry chuckle.

Taking it slowly, Dick eased himself down until he was fully seated on Clark and then, bracing his hands on the younger man's chest, began to rock himself back and forth slightly. As his body loosened and responded, Dick's hips moved faster and his breathing picked up. Shifting positions, the smaller man twined his fingers through Clark's and pressed their chests together, Dick's erection caught between their writhing bodies and adding that extra bit of friction.

Moaning almost wordlessly, Dick worked himself faster and harder, wanting this connection, to feel Clark come inside of him and feel himself come over Clark's stomach. "Please, babe," he moaned, not quite sure what he was looking for but nonetheless knowing that Clark would have the answers.

A simple touch of his lover's hand caressing where they were joined was all it took to push Dick over the edge, and as the seconds ticked down in the distance, the ball dropping to declare New Year's, Dick gasped and came, his body shuddering in release, Clark following quickly on his heels.

"Two... one... Happy New Years!"

"Happy new years indeed," Dick sighed, grinning up at his lover from his prone position on Clark's chest.

"So what's your Resolution?"

Clark smiled and wrapped his arms around Dick's back, rearranging them so that the shorter man was comfortable. "To spend next New Year's Eve like this as well."

"I think that's an acceptable resolution. Of course we might shake it up a bit, use the cuffs finally," Dick leered. "Or maybe next time I'll be inside you," the older man winked as he curved himself around Clark and snuggled in. "Actually anything at all is
acceptable, so long as I get to spend it with you."

"More than acceptable; I'd say it was perfect."

"Happy New Year's, babe, I love you," Dick smiled, reaching up to kiss Clark gently.

End~

BOOKS

Harry Potter - Draco/Harry

Author: Slyvir
Title: Can a fag help two stubborn boys?
Fandom: Harry Potter/Book
Disclaimer: I don’t earn any money with this story. The only thing that’s mine is the plot all of the other things from the Harry Potter universe, like names, places and characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
Feedback address: viperastrega@email.i t
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Rating: pg
Summary: Christmas is near, the war is over, old Voldy is never coming back, everyone is celebrating. Then why in this happy mood is Harry all alone? And what is doing Malfoy at school for the holidays?
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm

CAN A FAG HELP TWO STUBBORN BOYS?

The winter holidays, time of carols, time of joy, time of party and presents.
Time to spend with your family and friends.

Then, why on earth I’m here and not at the Manor to celebrate?

This year everyone has more reasons for celebrating; Potty had finally done his work. He had freed the Wizard World from the threat of the most powerful Dark Lord in over a century exactly sixteen years after the same Dark Lord tried to kill him.

And now that we’re close to Christmas Eve while everyone around him is celebrating he’s here all alone. Sure his friends are trying to involve him in their happy mood but they are not trying to understand what all of this could possible mean for him.

I really think they’re doing more damage than good; they want their hero to be happy and celebrating with them all. I don’t think they realise what he’s gone through for our wellbeing, nor what he could thinks now, after all he had already done what he’s suppose to be born for. He had already fulfil the prophecy that ruled his life; now he’s nothing more than an useless tool, he’ll be adored until people will want to forget this dark time, then he will be forgotten like an old toy….

“This year we’re unlucky, the hols start so close to Christmas, only four days before…”

“Yep, it’s unfortunate, but we can’t do anything ‘bout it.”

“Yeah, anyway it’s really true what I’d heard?”

“What have you heard this time Pansy?” You stupid waste of space what I must do for you to understand that we’re not together and there’s no way that I’ll marry you when we’ll graduate?

“That you’re not going home for the hols this year….”

“Oh, well strange enough this one is true, my father said that I had not had marks good enough for come with them.”

“I’m so sorry Dray, you know that if only I had know it I would have stayed here to keep you company. Do you right?”

Please, stop to act like you care, you disgust me. I know you care only for the power that the Malfoy’s name carries.

“I know it…” and that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you anything bitch!

“I’ll leave you to pack, see you later”

“Ok, luv” (-.-)

I needed to go out of there before I totally lost control of myself and explain her exactly how I feel about her.

Anyway, where I am before the interruption? Oh yes, I was wondering ‘bout our saviour.

He’s the only Gryffindork who’ll spend his holidays here at school. There aren’t orphans in the lion’s den, some died in the battle like the courageous warriors everyone expect them to be while the few who weren’t loyal to the side of Light disappeared mysteriously just after the last battle.

My Father survived once again, as did my Mother, others weren’t so lucky.

After the demise of the snake-face bastard few things are changed for us Slytherin, the school finally realised that not only Slytherins but also every other house has produced Death Eaters and we’re not treated as bad as before….

Everyone in the castle is hyperactive, only the ones who will remain are quieter, some are helping their friends to return home, some are controlling that everything’s fine and other like me are trying to avoid everyone in the hope to be left alone.

Think Draco, think, where no one would ever search you? Of course in Gryffindor’s territory, or in the castle’s upper levels, no one has reason to be up there now.

I don’t really mind where I’m going provided that I’ll be away from my schoolmates, especially the few who are really my friends. It’s been a miracle that Blaise didn’t have the time to stop me earlier, I don’t know if I could have lied to him.

Blaise is my best friend, he knows that I’m gay and that I’ve fallen in love with someone. He would have figured out that I must had beg my parents to let me stay here at school and he would have find out who’s the mysterious bloke that stole Ice Prince Malfoy’s heart.

Fantastic, I was so deepened in my thought that I didn’t realise I had accomplish my mission. I definitely get lost, well it doesn’t really matter it was exactly what I wanted, if I’m lost no one could find me. And I’ve till curfew to return in my dorm, or find a nice well hidden place where I can spend the night….

I had never been in this part of the castle, there aren’t portraits or armours, nor statues or tapestries, nothing other than bare stones and it seems that not a lot of people or ghosts for that matter, come up here.

That must be my lucky day, see who’s sitting here… smoking? (0_0)

“What are we having here, our favourite saviour smoking? I didn’t know you’re a smoker Potter”

“There’re a lot of thing that people don’t know ‘bout me Malfoy.”

“Anyway what are you doing here Potter?”

“What it seems I’m doing Malfoy? I’m try to smoke this fag in peace without people harassing me, it’s to much to ask?”

“Care to share one with me?”

“Why should I?”

“You don’t have to, I was only trying to ask you nicely if you could give me one of your cigarette since mine were sequestered at the beginning of the school year” (-__-);

“Really? I didn’t know you smoked too. Here take one, I don’t have a lighter but you can light it with your wand.” ^.^

“Thank you…. You shouldn’t be surprised, not a lot of people know that much about me, only closest friend, the others don’t give a damn.”

“Can you really blame them? It’s not like you were nice with everyone you know?”

“I had a role that I had to play, as you have seen there were Death Eater children all over the school, they were watching me waiting for a false move. I couldn’t act in a different way I wanted to save my life and keep secret who my father and Severus’ allies were.” (è.é)

“Yeah, I know. It’s only that it’s a bit unnerving knowing now that all the insults and the pranks were all an act”

“Would you prefer if I continue to act like a spoiled prat?”

“No, I rather like you the way you’re now.”

“Oh my, my, my I’m flattered.” (^.~)

“You shouldn’t, I wasn’t say anything yet.”

“Are you trying to convince me that you can be more flatter?”

“Of course Draco if I want to flatter you I’d say that I love your stormy silver eyes when we’re arguing, that I could lost myself when I see you walk around the castle with your natural grace. I would say that I wish I could kiss your soft lips to find out if they really are as delicious as they seem. I would say that I’d love you the way you’re and that I would pay quite any price to wake up next to you for the rest of my life.
Anyway aren’t you suppose to pack for your return at home?”

I never though that Harry Potter could someday make me speechless, how did that happen? (0.0)

“Hmmm… No I’m not going at home, I’ll stay here for the hols.”

“Shouldn’t you be in your dorm before curfew? It’s quite late if you don’t move you’ll risk to be found by Filch or Mrs Norris”

“Should I remember you that that is your problem, I’m a Prefect and you’re not, you could get in trouble….”

“Oh, but my dorm is nearer than yours.”

“Potter are you sure you are suppose to be in Gryffindor?”

“ Why should I been in Gryffindor?”

“Because you’re trying to make me forgot what you’ve said before in the hope that I don’t ask you any questions about it, how very Slytherin of you. Do you mean what you’ve said?”

“You should go, it’s late.”

“I want an answer.”

“We not always get what we want.”

“Damn it Potter answer me”

“Why should I? Do you really think that a social smoke could make us friends?”

“No, I didn’t think so, I’m only try to understand you.”

“No one ask you to”

“That’s true….”

“Then why do you even bother?”

How can I answer at this question without give out how much he’s important to me? I can’t tell him that I love him, it’s too early, I must wait….

“I… It’s because…”

“Don’t, it doesn’t really matter, I’m going. I don’t want to ear your excuses”

I don’t even have the time to look up to where he was that he’s already gone. How did he do that? Well I suppose I don’t have any reason to stay here now that he’s gone, I could as well go to bed….

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

I didn’t want to the Great Hall for breakfast but I couldn’t let my friends become suspicious, in less than an hour they’re leaving, after that I could hunt Harry and finally have an answer out of him…

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

That is not possible. It’s seems that he’s disappeared, no one, students, teachers, ghost or portrait know where he could be….

I tried to ask Dumbledore where I could find Harry, and the only thing that that old fool has done was smile at me and tell me he didn’t know.

I’m going nutter! I want only speak with Harry, try to explain that I love him and that that was what I was trying to tell him that day in the tower….

Ehi, wait a minute. The tower! I didn’t check in it…

How fortunate for me that my friends aren’t here, they would have fell to the floor in laughter at the sight of one Draco Malfoy that runs up the staircase to find his love one Harry Potter. It must seem hilarious.

“Harry are you here?”

“Malfoy? What are you doing here?”

“I was searching you, I need to talk to you”

“We are talking Malfoy”

“Did you mean the things that you told me the last time we see each other?”

“Why do you want to know so badly?”

“Because I love you and if you love me I would be very glad if you want me to be your fiancé.”

“Are you trying to make fun of me?”

“No! I swear I’m not. Please trust me.”

“Give me a proof that you’re not lying”

I’ll do the only thing I think it could convince him, I’ll kiss him like there’s no tomorrow, like he’s the only thing that kept me alive so long and to some degree that it’s true….

“Yes, Thank you”

“For what?”

“For love me for what I am and not what people think I am”

“You’re welcome my love, you’re welcome…. But you’ve never answer my question.”

I know I’m pouting but I want an answer! (>.<)

“Are you sure you’re suppose to be a Slytherin?”

“Of course I’m, why do you even ask?”

“Oh simple, because you didn’t see that I’ve already answered your question in a subtle way, how very Gryffindor of you…”

“Oh… well it must be your influence….”

“I don’t think so, anyway I mean every single word I’d said”

“Good! I’ve already said that I love you?”

“Yes, you did. But you could always repeat yourself… I don’t mind if you do…”

“Harry…?”

“Hmmm…?”

“Why where you all alone that day?”

“I didn’t want anyone to find me and pretend that everything it’s fine and that I don’t mind being a murder for the wellbeing of the Wizard World.”

“I can’t really say that I’m sorry, if you hadn’t want to be alone I probably never have the courage to give you this.”

“What it is?”

“Open it and see yourself.”

I look in this beautiful emerald eyes in font of me, they widen up with surprise, hope and love.

“Thanks Draco, it’s the best present I’ve ever recived”


While the two boys kiss each other into oblivion a little piece of parchmet fell on the floor…

‘I know I’m not as special as you, but I respect you
I know that I’ve been a bastard, but I admire you
All this words just for tell you that I love you Harry
With love and affection
Always yours
Draco’

MOVIEVERSE

It! Terror from Beyond Space - Tinker/Edward

Home for the Holidays by Tinnean
Due to length this story has been given its own page.

REALISTIC SHOWS

Wild Wild West - Jim/Artie

The Night of the Locket by K'Chaps
Due to length this story has been given its own page.

ANIMATED

From Eroica With Love - Klaus/Dorian

Author: Val Adams

Title: "Hear the Angels Sing"

Date: December 18, 2004

Fandom: From Eroica With Love / manga

Pairing: Klaus/Dorian

Rating: NC17

Summary: Klaus counts the cost and realizes he can pay it.

Disclaimer: The characters are borrowed.

Feedback address: valsamezzo@yahoo.com

Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm

Note: This story could be a companion piece to "A Cup of Cider" posted on Dec. 6 but it also stands alone.

Beta: Emme, who made some suggestions I didn’t have time to implement.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

HEAR THE ANGELS SING

The bullpen was deadly quiet and all eyes were on their fellow agent as he approached the closed door of the Major's office. All knew that "Iron Klaus" was not going to be pleased with the message; therefore, the messenger was in for an unpleasant time of it.

Agent Z paused in front of the door and glanced back at his comrades in time to see Agent G grin at him and give him the thumbs-up sign. He turned back to the door, rapped softly, and took a deep breath.

"Enter!"

As Z came to stand in front of the Major's desk, he noticed the brimming ashtray and the empty paper coffee cups littering the floor around the wastebasket. The Major himself was wearing the same clothing he had been wearing when he had sent Z off on his mission more than 36 hours ago, and he looked rumpled, tired and worried. Z glanced into the corner and saw that the cot there had not been slept upon. Oh dear. Best to get it over, then.

"Sir. I regret to inform you that... I have not been able to locate him." Z waited for the inevitable explosion but, strangely, none seemed to be forthcoming.

Major Eberbach sighed heavily, reached for his cigarettes and lit one. He leaned back in his chair and asked almost resignedly, "You have been to England? You spoke with his staff?"

Agent Z answered calmly, "I did, sir. He was not in London, nor was he at his castle in the countryside. I spoke with Mr. Bonham at the castle, but he had no answers."  He paused for a moment, and then continued hesitantly, "He personally told me he could not reach the Earl to deliver a message. Not even one from you... er, from NATO, sir."

Usually, the Major would have exploded at this point - shouting his disappointment, screaming derogatory epithets about undependable, flighty perverts who should know when their skills were needed. But the Major only continued to smoke his cigarette, staring blankly across the room.

It was a relief not to fall under the assault of the Major's tongue - especially about Eroica -- yet Z was less relieved than he was concerned about the Major's out of character behavior. It disturbed him enough to venture a conjecture of his own.

"Major, it seemed very odd to me, but I believe that even Mr. James truly doesn't know where the Earl may be."

"Hmmpf. If that little parasite doesn't know where Eroica is then Eroica does not wish to be found. Not even by his staff." Klaus crushed his half smoked cigarette onto the others in the ashtray, and rose wearily. Shrugging into his rumpled suit coat, he said quietly, "And I am out of time."

As the Major rounded his desk, Agent Z asked worriedly, "Is there anything further I may do, sir? Do you require assistance?"  Blushing to the roots of his blond hair, he forged on,  "Forgive me, Major, but... well, you know sir, that I would do what I could. If you needed me."

Klaus met his agent's eyes and held them for a moment before he replied, "Thank you, Z. No, there's nothing." 

He opened the door and ushered Z out into the bullpen, where the other members of the alphabet were acting busy and disinterested. He rolled his eyes and strode toward the elevator. At the last moment he turned and said loudly, "The Chief has declared that this section is on mandatory leave until after the New Year. Leave your emergency contact information with personnel in case you are needed. You are dismissed as of five o'clock this afternoon. Happy Christmas."

The stunned faces of his subordinates were almost enough to make him smile. The elevator door closed before he could hear the joyful outburst his announcement caused. Klaus fisted his hands in his pockets and endured the silent ride to the upper floors.

So. It had finally happened.

Klaus found it more than ironic that the only time he had ever wanted Dorian's help he wasn't going to get it. He had needed that help many times -- not that he'd admit it -- but he'd never wanted it before. How many times had he ranted and raved about having to work with the idiot? He had lost count. And now when he most needed someone he could trust...

And when had that happened? The trust. Klaus was too tired to examine that too closely, so he just accepted it as given and moved on to the next disturbing thought: This was not only NATO business, it was Eberbach family business. Now he had to deal with the fact that he trusted Dorian with his family's honor.

Klaus exited the elevator and strode down the hallway to the large double doors. Invisible hands opened the doors just as he arrived and he entered the room to face the two men who sat silently waiting for him. He was itching for a cigarette.

One of the men spoke. "Well, Klaus?"

"I'm sorry, Father. The man I wanted for the job is nowhere to be found."

"Ha!" The Chief smirked knowingly at the Major. "You mean you finally pissed him off enough that he's unwilling to work with you. It was only a matter of time."

Klaus flushed angrily and ground his teeth. Baron Eberbach shot a warning look at the Chief and addressed his son. "We shall have to use someone else then. How soon can you reach your second choice?"

"There is no second choice and there is no more time to waste. I will go alone."

The silence that greeted that statement spoke volumes.

At length, the Chief spluttered, "Nonsense! We have others who can perform Eroica's task in this mission. It's quite a simple job, really. I'll have Hoerner here in two hours!"

"No, sir." Klaus met and held his father's eyes and said quietly, "There is no one else I can trust with this. If Eroica cannot do it, I must go alone."

"Really, Major, you forget yourself! You will do as I command you!"

"Not in this matter, sir," Klaus ground out from between clenched teeth.

Baron Eberbach, stunned and anxious, looked carefully at his son. So much already at stake... and now Klaus would undertake this alone. Fear for his son's life fought it's way to the front of the old man's mind, and he struggled silently with it for long minutes before he finally nodded to Klaus. He might not understand completely, but he did know that Klaus would not relent on this matter.

"Thank you, Chief, but I must agree with Klaus. If he resists the aid of another of your agents, I cannot help but question their ability and their trustworthiness. As the Secretary has guaranteed your cooperation, I feel I must ask for that at this time."

The Chief's already florid face turned positively crimson in outrage, but before he said something he might regret he pulled himself together. Be it on their heads then. The Secretary, who was aware of every nuance of this situation, could hardly blame him if Iron Klaus screwed this up. It did make him wonder again what was in those documents that had the Secretary bending over backward like this.

"Tell me then, Major Eberbach," he spit out. "If you must make the choice of saving either the documents or the children, which will you choose? Eh?"

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

A little later that afternoon, Klaus poured another cup of coffee for himself and one for his father as they sat watching the clock in Klaus' flat. Klaus had slept for an hour or so and had showered and changed into his black clothing, fully prepared for a night mission. In all that time, the two men had not spoken.

Finally, the Baron broke the heavy silence. "You must think very badly of me right now, Klaus, and nothing I can say can change that, I know."

"Sir?"

"You must understand that the Secretary and I were both hotheaded fools in those days, daring much with little care for the consequences. To set our signatures to a paper like that was incredibly stupid. But to see such a nebulous pledge now fraudulently attached to documents of such horrifying gravity as this..." The old man's voice broke. "With children's lives hanging in the balance to prevent us moving against them. Who are these people, that they do such heinous things in the name of politics?"

The Major sighed heavily. "In this instance, Father, I don't really care."

It was true. Usually, he cared a great deal about who his enemies were. Knowing them was the key to bringing them down.

But right now all he could think about was that he had let something very important slip through his fingers, and it was no enemy. It was something rare and precious that he could have had if only he had reached out to accept it.

Klaus raked his hand through his hair. Time was growing short. Klaus looked at all the possibilities and shook his head.

"I must go. My transport will be waiting at Altestrasse, so I have a bit of a trek ahead of me." 

He took a deep drag on his cigarette and raised his eyes to meet his father's. The Baron saw no fear - only resignation and what he took to be a deep sadness. Klaus crushed out his cigarette, blew out the smoke, and then spoke in a low voice.

"I need to tell you what might happen. We know that right now they have the papers in the same house where they are keeping the boys. This is, perhaps, our only chance to end both of these nightmares. We must strike with the objectives of removing both the documents and the hostages.

"If the thief Eroica had been able to assist me, both objectives would have been easily accomplished this evening. However, without him..." 

Klaus paused and closed his eyes as if in sudden pain. "Without him, I..."

Klaus took a deep breath, and rose from his chair to move to the window. From across the room, he continued in a harder tone. "If I must go alone, then I must. So. I intend to locate the documents and destroy them." 

When Baron Eberbach began to interrupt, Klaus continued quickly, "No, I cannot bring them back to you -- as much as I know that you and the Secretary need to have them. If I preserve the papers and I am caught attempting to free the children, we lose all."  He paused to let the truth of the matter sink into his father's mind.

"I will destroy the papers first. I know that I can accomplish that at the least. I wish I could say that my cousin Dieter and the others are more important, but we both know that a few lives, when weighed against the devastation those papers could cause, is small enough price to pay. The documents must be the priority." He turned to look out the window, seeing nothing.

"It will take me longer than it would take Eroica to gain access to the room and to the safe where the papers are kept. That is what places the rest of the mission in jeopardy. But if I am caught attempting the secondary objective... I swear to you that the boys will not suffer any more. I will kill all three of them myself before I let them be hurt any more by those monsters. And I will die with them rather than return without them.

"No, don't interrupt me, please, sir. If I don't say these things now... But do not ask me to discuss them."

He turned to face his father, who was looking much older than his years. "I need you to know that, although we have never been as close as either of us might have wished, I have the utmost respect for you and that I..."

The Baron nodded his understanding of what his son was trying to say. Klaus continued.

"Also, I have a favor to ask. If I do not... I fully expect to succeed, sir. But if I do not, please deliver a message from me to Dorian Red, the Earl of Gloria, in Britain. Tell him I said I was sorry. Tell him that I understood, finally, and that I was sorry. That is all."

The Major did not wait for any comment from his father. He stooped to buckle the ankle holster into place and checked his spare weapon. He adjusted the narrow belt of small tools and made certain they made no noise. He had just slipped into his lightweight jacket when the knock came.

Klaus ignored it. The Baron stood, but his son shook his head. He was not expecting anyone, and he had more important things to do than deal with whatever was behind the door.

Then both men heard a teasing voice, "Major, if you don't want anyone to know you are home you shouldn't stand by the window!"

Klaus reached the door in two long strides and jerked it open. Leaning against the doorframe in a flirtatious pose, stood Dorian - a vision in red velvet and white ermine.

"Darling! Here's Father Christmas himself come to bring you your heart's desire. Have I surprised you?"

"Dorian!" Klaus gripped the other man by the shoulders and hauled him into the room and into a fierce embrace, kicking the door closed behind them.

He crushed Dorian's slender body to him and pressed his face into Dorian's luxurious hair as he rasped out, "Christ! Dorian, where have you been?"

Dorian was momentarily stunned by this display - and in front of an audience, too! - but he quickly adapted and wound his arms around his beloved's waist. He had dreamt of this moment too many times not to take serious advantage of the situation. He pressed himself against Klaus and let his hands roam up and down the broad, muscular back.

When he was not thrown across the room, yelled at or punched in the face for his daring, Dorian became seriously concerned and tried unsuccessfully to pull back a little and look into Klaus' face. He was forced to yield to the stronger man and, with very little resistance, relaxed into the embrace.

He could feel Klaus trembling and hear him breathing in gasps. Offering comfort, Dorian rubbed little circles on his back. His concern growing by leaps and bounds, he asked,

"What is it, Klaus? Tell me what's happened."

At this moment the Baron, who had been too stunned to move, cleared his throat and asked, "You are the Earl of Gloria?"

Finding himself unable to extricate himself from Klaus' arms and quite content with it, Dorian answered brightly, "Yes, I am. And you are...?"

"My father," said the husky voice in Dorian's ear.

"Oops," said Dorian, blushing to the roots of his hair.

Klaus, his arms still wrapped tightly around Dorian, said with admirable gravity, "Father, allow me to introduce you to Dorian Red, Earl of Gloria, also known to a very few as Eroica."

The Baron goggled for a moment, taking it all in. He thrust everything else from his mind and grasped the most important detail.

"Eroica! Good God, you're just in time! You must go with Klaus at once."

"Yes?" Dorian asked, finally prying Klaus' arms loose enough to see into his face. "Tell me, Klaus. Where are we going?"

Klaus reached up an unsteady hand to smooth a few errant strands of blond glory from Dorian's beautiful face. For a moment, he allowed himself simply to look at Dorian, taking in the flushed cheeks and happily sparkling blue eyes.

His world changed. He hadn’t lost this; he still could have this. How could he have ever been so utterly stupid as to push Dorian away?

Dorian had to ask again. “Where, Klaus?”

He pulled himself together and answered seriously, "To the rescue. Where are your work clothes?"

"Er... my work clothes?"

"Yes, that ridiculous cat-suit of yours and your tools. You'll get the documents from a safe on the third floor while I get the hostages out of another wing of the house. It’s very important to my father and me. And NATO, of course."

"Ah, of course," Dorian said. He lowered his eyes in disappointment. "You need Eroica."

Dorian struggled to keep the hurt from his voice and said quietly, "Well, all right then. If it's that important to you, I'm in. My things are in the car downstairs."

He took a deep breath and said lightly, "Clever of you to know I'm never without them. I'll fetch them up, shall I? And you can tell me everything."

"Yes," Klaus said.

He still hadn't released his hold on Dorian and now drew him back into a gentler embrace. He reveled in the flat hardness of the male chest pressed against his and breathed in his delicious scent.

Dorian was becoming more and more confused. Klaus was holding him as if he were the most precious treasure in the world. He could barely stop touching him. And yet he merely needed him for a mission. What was happening?

As if he had heard the unasked question, Klaus very deliberately tilted Dorian's chin up and met his eyes before he lowered his head and took Dorian's mouth in a searing kiss.

Dorian gasped in wonder and his lips parted to take in the Major's questing tongue. The kiss was everything Dorian had known it would be: focused and thorough, just like Klaus. In seconds Klaus' kiss became demanding, erotic. Dorian felt claimed. He melted against Klaus and returned the kiss with all his experience and all his love.

Long minutes later they broke apart gasping for breath. Dorian gazed adoringly at his Major, and managed to whisper, "Klaus?"

Carding Dorian's long golden hair through his now steady fingers, Klaus said, "NATO and Eberbach need Eroica. I need you."

Klaus took advantage of Dorian’s stupor and kissed him again. Breaking away, he passed his thumb over the other man's swollen lips before he pushed him gently toward the door.

"Go. There will be time for us after we complete the mission."

"For us? You mean..." Dorian asked a little breathlessly.

Klaus rolled his eyes in mock frustration.

"Idiot. I just kissed you -- like that -- in front of my father. Before going on a dangerous and important mission. That should tell you how serious I am. I promise you, we have much to talk about." 

His body stiffened as an unwelcome thought came to him. "That is, if you wish it."

Dorian was back in Klaus' arms in a heartbeat. "I wish it! Oh, love, I have wished it since we first met."

He placed a kiss over the Major's heart as he pulled away and headed out the door leaving a vast silence behind him.

Klaus turned to face his father for the first time since Dorian had entered the room. To his surprise, the Baron looked neither shocked nor outraged.

"That is Eroica?" the Baron asked.

Klaus nodded.

"The only one you would trust with our family secrets?"

Another nod.

"That is also Dorian? The one you left the message for?"

"Yes, sir."

"He acted as if... Was that the first time you had kissed him?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you've known him, worked with him for how long?"

"Almost ten years. It's taken me this long to work up to it."

"Work up to...?"

"To kissing a man. To knowing I wanted a man. This man."

"Oh. Oh, yes. I see."

The Baron took deep breath. "I suppose you should invite him to Eberbach for Christmas, in that case. Providing, of course, that tonight..."

Klaus grinned. "Oh, I don't fear failure now, sir. We'll have the documents and the boys back safely in just a few hours. It might be a little tricky, but between the two of us, we'll manage it."

Another silence descended for a minute or two.

Finally, Klaus cleared his throat and said quietly, "Father?"

The Baron met his son's eyes and smiled. He rose and took Klaus in his arms, as he hadn't done since his childhood. Klaus embraced his father and pulled away slowly as Dorian came back into the room, eyes sparkling.

It would be a long and nerve-wracking night for all of them, but Klaus had regained his confidence and composure. He would see it all through if he personally had to massacre a battalion to get it done. He had a lot to look forward to. Just watching his father become acquainted with Dorian should be worth it.

Dorian, meanwhile, was thinking the same thing. He had a lot riding on the success of this mission. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner he and Klaus could get down to negotiations, among other things. Oh, yes, there would be negotiations. He thought he might be able to convince the Baron to become his ally… But first things first.

The Baron watched bemusedly as the two men discussed the mission and prepared for it in a comfortingly military way. Both men felt that all would be well, and the Baron found himself relaxing a bit. As he watched, Eroica came to terms with the situation and seemed to harden. In his own way, he seemed to be just as focused and determined as Klaus. If the Baron hadn’t seen all that red velvet and fur earlier, he would never have guessed that this cool, confident agent was that… fop.

He snorted under his breath. Who would have guessed that Klaus… But as he watched his son watch his soon-to-be lover he wondered just how Klaus had managed to deny his feelings for all these years. He had never seen that look in Klaus’ eyes before tonight. No matter what he had hoped and wished for Klaus, at least he now knew that his son would know love.

And joy would come with the morning.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"Oh you beneath life's crushing load, whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way with painful steps and slow.
Look now, for glad and golden hours come swiftly on the wing.
O rest beside the weary road and hear the angels sing."

The End.
 

ORIGINAL SLASH

From Eroica With Love - Klaus/Dorian

Author: Amaretto
Title: Winter Madness
Pairing: Jack/Carter
Rating: PG?
Series: Original
Summary: A young man vanishes every winter into the forest
Date of publication: 12/18/04
Disclaimer: All characters and the story herein belong to me.
Feedback address: amasour@msn.com
Beta: rykaine, kantras, starparty
Note: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar of 2004 at:  http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm

Winter Madness

There is a man whom the villagers think is crazy.

Most of the year he's quiet, harmless, utterly charming and perfectly well behaved. He lives in the old house at the edge of town that he bought from the mad widow and which always smells of roses and apples.

Perhaps the madness comes with the house. But the old lady was a different sort of mad; hers was a madness created by grief and heartache and too much loss.

But the man is young, handsome and more than pleasant. His nut-brown hair is always neatly trimmed, blue eyes always bright and pleasant and his freckled face perpetually good natured and smiling. The young ladies of the village spend endless hours on their hair and clothes, practicing their smiles in the mirror to make them alluring.

He works hard during most of the year, working in the little shop in the center of town, bargaining with the farmers and merchants and fending off their daughters - there was almost a scandal with Belinda, but the whole town knew her brand of mischief and her daddy locked her up good in her room until she decided to behave.

The young men envied him, the young women wanted him, and older folk loved to talk to him. He was kind and smart and clever.

Most of the time.

Once the first snow fell - that's when he went crazy.

He didn't collect firewood like the rest of the townsfolk, or prepare his house for winter, store up food or get out the heavy blankets.

Instead, he just vanished into the forest.

Some said he had a home hidden away in the woods, where he kept a secret wife whom he preferred to live with in the winter. Others said he had business elsewhere and left to care for it in winter when no one else could follow him because of the snows.

Young women, huddling together in their little house to knit and quilt while winter raged around them, whispered excitedly about a beautiful demon who had seduced him with her evil ways, and forced him into a pact in the dark, frozen months. Or perhaps he was trying to rescue his true love from a demon.

Older women snorted and called them fools, their heads empty of sense and full of idiocy, as clumsy of mind as they were of hand when stitching together the quilt squares.

The village rests high in the mountains, several days journey from the next town and surrounded on all sides by forest and sky. All who move to the village love it, and only direst circumstance can ever drag them out again.

The young man was brought there as a child, by parents that passed away from illness not long after he grew into adulthood. He misses them, but they were happy and died together and so he is not as distraught by the loss as he might have otherwise been. Their large house he gave to a noisy family in need of space, and moved happily into the mad widow's house.

As long as anyone can remember, he has loved the snow and the ice and the cold. He took to winter the way most children take to spring and summer, growing up on his mother's fairytales of the beings that winter brought.

Then one winter, when he was about twenty or so, he took a walk in the forest - and was taken for dead when he did not return.

The entire village was amazed to see him appear again, when the last of the snow melted away and spring began to forcefully present itself. He walked from the forest calmly and quietly, smiling softly at the thoughts in his head.

When pressed, he would say nothing. As nothing else seemed changed, the villagers ceased to press him and life carried on much as it had before.

Except that his smile was different than it had been, his movements at first those of a person thoroughly distracted, and even in the middle of blazing summer, his skin was cold to the touch. It never seemed to bother him.

The elderly women of the village, when the silly young girls had gone to bed, clucked knowingly and said that the young man had fallen in love - and not with just anyone, but a spirit of winter. Not some foolish demon seductress, but one of the snow sprites known to live deep in the forest.

The elderly men just sighed at their silly wives and said it was no one's business, so long as the man didn't cause the village harm.

For seven years now, the young man had been vanishing into the forest with the first snowfall. A few stood at their windows to watch him go, little to see but the bobbing of his lantern and the occasional flash of his dark satchel. A few of the younger men had occasionally tried to follow him, but always they lost him and had to return home in defeat.

He knew they followed him, knew the villagers thought him crazy. It made him smile, in a fond, affectionate way. The village was his home, three seasons of the year.

But his real home, the place that housed his heart, lay deep in the heart of the forest, hidden deep in the winding tunnels of a cave he'd stumbled across on his walk seven years ago.

He'd gotten lost, and then in the caves he entered seeking refuge from a storm, he'd gotten sick.

Until someone had appeared.

Not a sprite, like those his mother had spoken of, the ones he'd searched for and occasionally played with as a child. No, this one was much, much more than a sprite.

Their lord and master, with black hair and white skin, silver-gray eyes and a smile that was soft and warm, his touch as he helped the young man hot and cold all at once.

Carter had fallen in love with him immediately, the mysterious Jack Frost his mother had loved to talk about, teasing his father with her avid, adoring stories. Looking upon the man, it was easy to see why his mother had been half in love with him.

He accepted Jack's assistance without thought or hesitation, remained in his home hidden in the caves until he could no longer come up with excuses to stay.

And then Jack had asked him to stay, until warm weather forced him to move on to other places, for Jack Frost could not stay where there was not cold and snow to keep him.

His fingers across Carter's skin are the touch of ice after too many hours in the burning sun, his mouth startlingly warm when it replaced his fingers, a mix of hot and cold sensations that drove Carter into a frenzy, gasping and begging for more as he lay spread out on the soft, soft furs that were Jack's bed.

The winter prince always held him close afterwards, and it was both warm and cool, like lying in the shade of a tree to hide from the sun, or a spring breeze that was a mix of hot and cold.

He hated when the thaw arrived, and Jack vanished to follow winter to other places, leaving him alone and unpleasantly cold.

But he waits, with patience born of long practice and unbreakable devotion, for winter to come around again. He keeps himself warm with memories of how Jack feels against him, leaving the windows open as fall arrives to feel the biting wind through his house, sliding his own hands where he wishes Jack's could be.

He knows when snow is coming, long before any one else does. Not by scent or sight or a feeling in his bones. He just knows, and prepares to leave his house unattended for the winter. Carter is grateful the villagers no longer question him, because if they think he is crazy now, they will only think worse thoughts if he tried to tell them the truth.

Except perhaps the oldest ladies, but he has no interest in telling them about the things he does with the winter prince.

He walks in the mass of soft white effortlessly, knowing that if he strays from his path, a hot-cold hand will reach out and pull him back onto it, and lead him to their home in the winding caves, and press him down onto soft furs while the snow continues to fall.

END