ADVENT STORIES FOR
DECEMBER 22
CLARK/LEX
Title: Chad's LJ
Author: philtre
Disclaimer: phft. Yeah. I own two dying plants, and that's about it. Unless you
want said dying plants, I'm so not worth suing!
Category: PWP
Rating: PG-13 for language
Spoilers: No.
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Fandom: Smallville
Summary: Clex from Chad's POV
Author's note: Taking great liberties with the character, Chad. See UserInfo
below. This fic is part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent
Feedback: Just the sort of thing that my Chad would appreciate. *g* Direct love
to
twopphiltre@yahoo.ca
Thank you: reetchick - for the fabulous beta. And moss - for betaing, suggesting
usernames, being my favourite boy bitch but mostly for trying to make me sound
less like an ass. Love you both!
CHAD'S LIVEJOURNAL
User: trollopboy
Name: Chad
Bio: When not online regaling the LJLand with his not so exciting small town
life, Chad can often be found at one of two places: either the medical
examiner's office where he is employed to perform all nature of mundane things,
or out and about, shocking the bland townsfolk by being 'the devil's
incarnation' (it's hard to be the only goth in town).
Other times, Chad can be found 'borrowing' eyeliners from the lovely CS while
she goes on about CK (some boy-man that she has a major obsession with) or
browsing the shelves of the local drugstore for different shades of black
nailpolish (and if one more person tells Chad that black is black, he or she
will be bitchslapped into the next dimension).
Chad likes mocha lattes first thing in the morning, Happy Fins at night, but
most of all warm, fuzzy feedback on his LJ. *g*
Interests: black nailpolish, black lipstick, black eyeliner, black anything,
buffy, cher, eric johnson, gale harold, happy fins, italian food, italian men,
jostein gaarder, knee-high boots, madonna, michael rosenbaum, mocha lattes,
oboes, sarah jessica parker, sashimi, smallville, sex & the city, tchaikovsky,
tom cruise's ass, tom welling, verdi
***
Okay. So my hag CS, who you all know about, has been going on and on about her
'friend' CK. (psh! Yeah. 'Friend.') Anyways, so she showed me a picture of the
boy today and all I have to say is - Hello, fineness!
Seriously. I'm not kidding. The boy looks like he stepped out of a trashy
romance novel. Green eyes that make me want to crawl inside him. And sugar, abs
that are enough to make one turn gay. Well, if one wasn't *already* gay. Damn.
Wonder why I've never run into him before. Wonder *how* I can run into him.
Rowr. Run into him - full against that rumored six foot four body. Mmmm. And for
those of you who are wondering - he has *huge* hands. HUGE! Swear to God. As you
all already know, I have a thing for hands. Especially when they're that huge.
Because, hon, you and I and the rest of humanity all know that huge hands - mean
huge other body parts.
*g*
***
Two years! Two years and my manicurist still grimaces every time she paints my
nails. The woman has got to get over it. Black is the new brown (so last
season).
***
Oy vey. Met CS's friend CK today. And let me tell you, folks. The photo does NOT
do the boy justice. Geez. The boy is F-I-N-E (capitalized letters *all* the
way). My GAWD. If only they were all this pretty here.
And I've got to say this - his very charming innocence is totally addictive.
Homegrown Kansas farm boys are my new favorite afternoon snack. mmm. I'd like to
take a bite out of that ass! I *knew* I should have gotten CS to introduce me to
him sooner. Damn! Excuse me. I have to go, erm, kill some kittens.
***
'Ran' into CK today at a local coffee shop (And Lord, how I hate that place. The
manager is some skank who wears *waaay* too much makeup. Keep in mind, this is
coming from a guy who buys eyeliners by the dozen! So you know I'm not
exaggerating. P.S. hon. Pink went out about the same time as Lycra. Yech). All
I'm saying is, if farm-work shapes boys that well, it should be the *law* that
all the pretty boys be shipped off to farm-work bootcamp.
If someone looks that good in flannel, imagine how good he would look sprawled
on my bed, naked, spread to the max, entirely for my viewing, touching, and
tasting pleasure. I'm in a very, very good place.
***
Ppl die from the weirdest things in this town.
***
All right. You guys are absolutely going to have a heart attack.
So today I wander into that gaudy purple and gold and ugh -- gaudy place, gaudy
owner. And ppl say that *I'm* a queen. But I digress.
I'm in the coffee shop, trying to 'run' into CK again and whaddayaknow, he's
already there. With the very-well-known-around-town LL. And let me tell ya, the
looks they were sharing? *I'm* more subtle than they are. And sugar, the last
time I passed for subtle was around the time Cher could claim she hadn't had any
work done.
Good Lord. I thought all the folks around here were stuffy and straightlaced.
Huh. Learn something new, every day.
***
Heh. CS finally wised up to my 'borrowing' her eyeliners. For all her
'journalistic' leanings, the girl can be so dense sometimes. Heh.
***
Boy, let me just say this. Rich, spoiled men *like* to get their way *very* much
and they are *not* crazy about other men hitting on their objects of lust.
I've made that nightmare of a coffee shop my regular stop and yesterday, I
'bumped' into CK (for those of you who care, um, yum.) and LL. Being the
hopeless flirt that I am, I mentioned in passing how yummy CK was and I swear to
fucking God, LL nearly broke a blood vessel.
Oh for crying out loud, you scalding hot and bald sex machine. I'm just SAYING.
Not like CK would give me a second glance when you're around! I'm just
hopelessly tempted to reach out and wipe off the drool that drips down CK's chin
every time he looks your way. *tsk*
***
That's it. I'm calling for an intervention. I was talking to CS today and she
told me emphatically that *nothing* was going on between CK and LL and it was
driving her up the wall too. How... what... WHY?!
There aren't two prettier boys in the *county* who need to totally get it on!
CS and I have decided to hatch a plan.
***
I counted the number of lipsticks I own today - eleven. Pathetic. I would have
more, except that the local drugstore has an unfortunately limited selection.
Wonder if I can talk CS into tag-team-driving to Metropolis with me. Hmmm. Maybe
I should pick up some lattes and doughnuts on the way over to her place. *eg*
***
Bwahahha! I am the spawn of *SATAN*. With CS as my trusty sidekick.
Both CK and LL were blissfully enjoying a pre-Christmas party at that horrid
coffee shop (God, business must be bad when they need to have a Christmas
party!! For fuck's sake.) when a certain somebody (for the blur ones amongst us,
me) wanders in, leather pants painted onto my lower half.
I made a beeline for the lovely CK (Oh Lord. Is he ever lovely.) Gave him the
most scaldingly hot look I could muster, feeling slightly afraid when I saw the
shade that LL's face turned. Good Lord. The man looked as though he was going to
have a fucking heart attack.
Which was *exactly* what I was going for. *g*
Anyways, I pretty much propositioned CK in front of LL. And then I pretty much
died when LL grabbed CK's arm and dragged him away from me. Heyyyy. No
complaints. I got to witness two very beautiful men, very close.
That and I got to hear this scrumptious little snippet of conversation.
LL: Screw this, C. You belong to *me*!
CK (grinning): Okay.
LL (confused): Really?
CK (more grinning): Yeah.
LL (impossibly hopeful): Can we go to my place and fuck our brains out? (*All
right*! I made that one up. But if you had just seen the look on LL's face - his
lips might have been saying 'Let's get out of here', but his *face* was saying
'Let's fuck like sex-crazed rabbits'. Uh huh. You know it.)
CK (still grinning): Okay.
LL: (dragging CK out of the shop)
*sigh* My work is done, ladies and queens. *g*
***
Heard from CS today. CK and LL are officially a couple. I deserve an award.
You've got to admit it, folks. I am a fucking genius and a half. Some ppl got
it. Some ppl don't. And sugar... I got it. ;)
And whaddayaknow -- right in time for Christmas too. Well, Merry fucking
Christmas to me. But even more so, Merry Christmas fucking to them! *g*
CLARK/LEX # 2
Title: Winter Warmth
Author: Jinx
Pairing: CLex baby! Duh!
Rating: PG for snuggling and kissing
Summary: Lex gets warm.
Category: Mild angst, established relationship, sap and lots of love. J
Disclaimer: *snort* If they were actually mine, I sure as hell wouldn't be
writing about them!
Feedback:
jinx37kat@aol.com
Challenge: Advent – December 22nd - CLEX
Betaed: Yep.
Notes: Do Re Mi Fa So La Ti Do
Warning: Keep out of reach of children.
Winter Warmth
By Jinx
Lex leaned against the cold mansion wall and
looked out the window, watching the snow fall softly to the ground below. It
always amazed him the beauty those little white ice crystals could create
gathered together on the ground, covering everything in sight and making the
ugliness of the autumn-bare trees and barren ground disappear, leaving behind a
blanket of white as far as the eye could see.
He looked out over the landscape, seeing the gardens hidden under the soft down
of cold and shivered. While he loved winter and the crisp clarity that it
brought with the chill, he longed to feel the warmth in his soul; warmth like
the fire which was currently heating the room. Warmth that had been lacking for
several years… since his mom.
Snorting deprecatingly to himself, Lex turned from the window and moved into the
room, settling in his favorite chair, close to the fireplace. While he loved the
winter, it always brought back memories of his mother. Though, if he were honest
with himself, a lot of things lately reminded him of his mom. Pretty much every
time he was around Mrs. Kent or Clark, he was reminded in someway about his mom.
She had been the only light in his life and when she left… well, there was
nothing left for Lex. His father had never been the caring sort and it was
doubly so after his mom died. He never thought he would ever get that feeling of
happiness back.
Ever.
But one fateful day, the same day that his father banished him to Smallville, he
ran his car off a bridge and it earned him an instant friend by the name of
Clark Kent. And for the first time since his mom, Lex had actually had reason to
smile.
Smile and mean it, not the shark’s smirk he mastered as the son of Lionel Luthor.
Strong arms slid down and around Lex’s shoulders, wrapping themselves across his
chest. Warm breath glided over his ear before traveling down to tease the soft
skin at his neck. A tongue snaked out, licking, and teeth began to nip, gently
sucking the skin into a moist mouth.
One of those real smiles planted on Lex’s face as he tipped his head back for
his attacker.
“Brooding?” The deep, rumbling voice behind him asked as its mouth continued to
torment and arouse.
“Maybe,” Lex mumbled, slowly melting into the cushions.
The mouth left Lex’s neck, much to his disappointment, and he groaned in
disapproval. He was rewarded, however, as his lover came around the chair and
squirmed his way into Lex’s lap.
Powerful thighs gripped Lex’s own, pinning them together between Clark’s. The
younger man scooted up so their groins could touch and tease.
Smiling down at Lex, Clark raised a large hand and gently cupped the side of
Lex’s skull, soft fingers sliding down and over the sensitive skin at the back
of Lex’s ear.
“Whatcha brooding about?” Clark whispered.
Lex looked down and twined his fingers with Clark’s free hand, griping tightly.
Shrugging, Lex said, “Nothing.”
At Clark’s disbelieving and slightly irritating glare, Lex shrugged again and
looked up, continuing, “Everything. Winter. My mom. Your mom. You. Me. Me since
I’ve met you. You and what you’ve done to me… That kind of brooding.”
Clark smiled, green eyes soft and liquid, completely full of love. “And what
have I done to you?” He moved forward to lightly brush his lips against Lex’s,
pulling back when Lex leaned in for more.
Lex mock-glared at his lover who had pulled away and sighed, reaching up to pull
the still caressing fingers away from his face. Linking their fingers, Lex
brought both locked hands up, kissing Clark’s individual finger tenderly. When
he finished, Lex lifted their hands and pressed them to his chest, over his
heart.
“Made me feel. Made me love. Two things I never thought I’d be able to do again.”
Lex turned away, uncomfortable, afraid he was sounding much too sappy, even for
Clark.
Instead, Clark leaned forward, nuzzling his face into the curve of Lex’s throat,
laying his head against Lex’s shoulder.
“Love you, too,” Clark muttered softly.
Lex leaned his cheek against the top of the dark hair, rubbing over the soft
strands like a great lazy cat.
But it was Clark that purred as he snuck out a tongue-tip and lapped lightly
over the satiny flesh. “Love you so much, Lex,” Clark said in-between the faint
nips.
Lex disentangled their entwined fingers and wrapped his arms around Clark’s
back, pulling him closer, needing to feel Clark’s weight and warmth. At the same
time, Clark encircled Lex’s waist with his own arms, hunching his back a bit,
and snuggled down into his lover’s embrace.
“Look’s beautiful, you know?” Clark said a few moments later, still resting
against Lex.
Lex smiled but didn’t move, head relaxing on top of Clark’s.
“Yes, you do.”
Clark lifted his head, dislodging Lex. Looking the older man in the eye, Clark
grinned. “The tree, dummy.”
Lex looked over to the other side of the room and nodded.
“That, too.” Lex grinned at his lover and leaned forward a bit, snuggling
against the other man’s chest, head sideways so he could see the tree.
He had gotten the tree as a surprise for Clark the first week of December and
they had spent the weekend decorating it. It wouldn’t have taken so long it they
hadn’t interrupted themselves several times during the process with kisses that
had turned into bigger and better things. Once the tree was completely decorated,
a day and a half later, Clark grabbed Lex and pushing him under the tree, making
slow, tender love to him, telling the other man with words and gentle touches
that he was all that Clark wanted for Christmas.
Lex was sure that Clark could and would have him for many Christmases to come.
And birthdays. And anniversaries. And Easters. And Fourth of Julys. And… every
day.
“I will,” Clark stated emphatically, squeezing Lex tighter to his chest.
Lex closed his eyes. He hated it when he spoke his thoughts. But, he did it all
the time and Clark never got tired of calling him on it each and every time.
“Bastard,” Lex groused, rubbing his pressed face against Clark’s chest.
“Yeah, but you love me, too,” Clark smiled, amusement coloring his voice.
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Lex mumbled, face still against Clark’s chest and
fingers bunched in the fabric at Clark’s back.
Clark drew his arms back and lifted his hands to cup Lex’s face. Staring
intently at each other, Clark finally leaned down, his lips barely touching
Lex’s. “Me, too,” and Clark closed their lips together, breath mingling, tongues
flicking and tasting. It was slow and unhurried, time meaning nothing.
They loved well into the night, Clark unconsciously erasing Lex of any thought
other than his lover.
*****
Several hours later, Lex lay sated and content in bed, his head pillowed on
Clark’s warm chest, legs tangled with his lover’s. As he lay awake, watching his
lover sleep, he came to the sudden realization that for the first time in a very
long time, he was warm… on the inside. He finally got the warmth he craved, the
red-hot heat he hungered for, yearned for his soul.
It was the best present he could ask for… Clark.
Finis
KIRK/SPOCK
Title: Farr Flung
Author: Farfalla, webmistress of
http://spirk.cosmicduckling.com
Contact: blueberrysnail @ yahoo.com
Fandom: Star Trek original series
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: R?
Part: 1/1
Beta: Leiabelle, who should SO be in bed right now because it's almost 6 am in
England...
Disclaimer: The entire Trek universe belongs to Paramount and will not suffer
much from the poking and prodding of our curious collective imaginations. We
mean our beloved characters no harm and think that quite possibly they enjoy the
variety ;-) Dave Barry, who is briefly mentioned, belongs to himself. (He's a
nationally recognized humor writer from the lovely crazy land I hail from... our
local famous wit, if you will.)
Summary: After "The Voyage Home", according to some website I read, Spock should
be turning 56. That's divisible by seven, isn't it? ;-) Oh and by the way, I
hate recorded telemarketers.
Note: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent
FARR FLUNG
The year was 2286 and Captain Spock,
Starfleet's resurrected hybrid Vulcan hero, was once again in pon farr. The
windows were closed, the curtains drawn, and the door set on a special privacy
lock. The recently demoted-with-honor Captain Kirk had spent the past day and a
half serving as life, love, and relief to his energetic husband's biologically
illogical urge to procreate. These forced, periodic second honeymoons were
always an exhausting but welcome time together, a weekend (hopefully!) spent
completely devoted to enjoying each other's bodies in every way.
This time was the most special, perhaps even more so than that first beautiful
time back on the Enterprise's first mission, because it symbolized the dazzling,
wondrous impossible. Spock had returned from the grave, had risen from the
ashes, and come back to his heroic human t'hy'la. Kirk had crawled through hell,
almost literally, to bring him home. Home was his arms. Home was *their* arms.
Kirk spent most of the approximately three days of Spock's heat lounging naked
around the flat, snacking and keeping himself clean between encounters. It was
easier that way to be ready to meet Spock's frantic advances when moments of
Plak Tow came on. No one would be stopping by to interrupt the wantonness; all
contacts, emergency included, were to be filtered through the understanding
judgment of Dr. McCoy, their dearest friend.
There was a cooler full of cut-up fruit and bite-sized pieces of meat and bread
near the bed. It was essential for Kirk to keep his strength up through the
adventure; it was not important that he climax at each encounter, because there
were to be so many, but he could not simply lie there like a blow-up doll. He
loved Spock and wanted to be there for him in every way possible. He came when
he wanted to, and when he didn't, he simply enjoyed watching Spock's face during
every second of lovemaking. Do you know what orgasm does to the eyes of a
Vulcan?
He held Spock as the Vulcan rested. Kirk could not breathe each time his mind
fully realized the pleasure and the miracle of the warm, soft flesh that met his
hands. This was an angel, not a man, retrieved from the sky to light up his
life. He was only too happy to be able to give himself and his body to Spock in
this profound and total way, now that the Vulcan was alive and at his side once
more.
Kirk stood up, wandered over towards the draped window, and tranquilly fed
himself some chunks of mango. How his heart had pounded in his throat those many
months ago, on Vulcan, when Spock lay beneath the healing hands of a stranger.
He had not been able to watch, but instead turned away and nervously cast his
eyes upon the glowing golden dunes-- and prayed. Prayed with his lips dry and
his hair disheveled, and with the blood of battle shining on his cheek. Prayed
for his love.
And a new Spock had awakened, and was still his friend. The memories of their
life together would awaken more gradually, but Kirk had known he could wait for
him forever. Finally they were together, back in their own time, back home in
San Francisco but in their real home, each other's arms.
He heard his love stirring and his blood quickened with excitement. Through
their bond he could feel Spock's primal need calling out to him again. In the
past day and a half, the Vulcan had spent himself time after time into and onto
his beloved's willing body, attempting to plant his sterile hybrid seed upon
equally sterile male flesh.
"Jim!"
Kirk hastily put aside the mango as Spock started to thrash around on the bed.
He was about to approach him when suddenly Spock sprang up instead and
gracefully leapt across the room to his side instead. He seemed like a beautiful
animal, with a dark light burning in his eyes. Kirk knew Spock was strong enough
to hurt him in times like this, but had to trust in him anyway. *Do not fear me,
t'hy'la,* came the reassuring voice of Spock's calm inner self. Kirk smiled and
held out his arms to his love.
Spock seized Kirk and scooped up his entire body, legs and all, in his powerful
alien arms, and pushed him against the wall. Guided by Spock, Kirk wrapped his
legs around Spock's waist, where the Vulcan held them in a steel grip coated
with velvet. It may not have been the world's most comfortable position, but
there was plenty of time for sweet, thoughtful lovemaking when Spock wasn't
boiling over eleven or twelve times a day to save his life.
Spock completely filled Kirk's body and mind. Reassuring pulses of love and
affection were sent over their bond, and always the infinite gratitude. A hungry
Vulcan tongue drinking at Kirk's mouth like that of a lion crazed with thirst at
an oasis on the savanna. And Kirk's lower body, completely filled with the
thrusting need of his t'hy'la, a little sore but numbed by pleasure into a happy
rhythm. Kirk received it all gladly, dizzyingly content to hold Spock, please
Spock, and to be able to demonstrate over and over again how much he was loved.
The viewscreen communicator on their wall beeped. They ignored it at first.
Anyone who wanted to contact the couple during this time was supposed to be
routed through Bones first, who could then get through to them on a private
channel if the message truly was an emergency. It was probably a wrong number,
or a telemarketer. Kirk was glad that the visual function of the device had been
turned off for the time being, just in case the answering machine malfunctioned
and answered the call completely instead of just taking a message.
Sure enough, an artificially jovial voice pierced through the haze of their
lovemaking. "Are you interested in an exciting new financial opportunity
available for your immediate investment?" it asked buoyantly. Kirk would have
yelled at the machine to shut off if his mouth hadn't been full of a tongue that
had complete control. The recording prattled on, shoving its unwanted
entrepreneurial message into their eardrums. The close proximity of the machine
made the intrusion even worse.
At first, it didn't look like Spock cared about the auditory distraction, or had
even noticed it in the depths of his Blood Fever. But after the computer had
ranted on for a full minute and a half, he suddenly froze, mid-thrust.
Kirk watched in stunned amazement as Spock, who was still sheathed inside him,
broke their animalistic kiss and ripped the babbling answering machine out of
the wall. Still holding Kirk against the wall with his body and one of his arms,
he used the other one to hurl the orphaned machine straight out of the window--
which was NOT open!
CRASH
On the street several stories down, Commander Nyota Uhura was in her sweats
taking part in an activity that nationally famous humor writer Dave Barry refers
to as "dorkwalking". This activity is basically a form of speedwalking for
exercise where the person's elbows are bent and their arms move back and forth
as if they were jogging. She liked walking better than running to keep fit,
because when you run you miss more. Walking enabled her to take in the sights of
the city around her, which were inevitably more interesting than the blur she
would have seen had she been jogging.
Had she been jogging, she also would have most likely been killed in the next
few seconds. As it was, she had just passed a familiar intersection and it was
about to occur to her that she was passing her friends' flat when a small
metallic object dripping with wires came soaring from one of the windows and
crashed into the street about five feet in front of her.
Uhura stared at the projectile. It didn't *look* like a bomb...
Then she looked back up at the window it had come from. She recognized the color
of the curtains through the broken glass. "That's Jim and Spock's place..." she
said to herself.
A thoroughly wanton moan came floating on the breeze through the hole in the
window. Uhura's mouth fell open as it dawned on her how the men's answering
machine had come to be a deadly missile. "Good God, is there *nothing* Jim can't
handle?"
She dorkwalked away, laughing steadily for the next four blocks.
END
HARRY/SNAPE
Title: The Ring
Author: Lillian
Rating: R for slashy themes and language
Pairing: Severus/Harry
Warnings: AU, a little bit of Christmas shopping angst and of course my
usual sappiness
Feedback:
Lillian02025@yahoo.com
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: Not owned by me. No infringement intended. No money made.
Summary: Harry searches fruitlessly for the perfect gift for Severus.
Authors Notes: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent This story is set in my “Slytherin Bond”
universe. To wit: Harry and Severus were married in the beginning of his sixth
year when Harry mistakenly loosed a spell that garnered him a husband---Severus.
This is Harry and Severus’ first Christmas together. Also, before anyone asks
(and I’m sure they will) a “Christmas Cracker” is sort of like a party favor.
Two people pull it from either end and whoever wins the pull gets the tiny prize
that pops out i.e. paper crowns, tiny toy figures etc. *sigh * My mother being
from Ireland made sure we got some every year for Christmas. The writers (and
readers) from the UK and Ireland will know what I’m talking about. By the way
thoughts are indicated by // //. Also a very special thanks to MeLi *hugs* who
did such a fantastic job as my beta. She’s just the best. Any remaining mistakes
are clearly my own.
THE RING
Harry left Dervish and Banges in frustration.
Nothing. Zed. He couldn’t find Severus a gift he liked. He’d already been in
Gladrags Wizard Wear and had soon realized that his husband wouldn’t be caught
dead in some of their apparel. And certainly nothing in Honeydukes would appeal
to him, as far as Harry could tell, Sev had *no* sweet tooth. ’ ) Well, it had
been worth a try, but he hadn’t really thought he’d find something in Hogsmeade.
Harry sighed. That left just Diagon Alley and he had only five days to get there
and *find* that special gift for his bond-mate. He growled in frustration. He
had plenty of money available at Gringotts, so that wasn’t an issue, but what to
get Sev? He already had *everything* possibly related to the art of potion
making. Besides, Harry wanted to get him something more personal.
//It was only a few months ago we were wed and now I can’t think of life without
him.//
Well, he’d have to arrange a trip into London as soon as possible. The gift
wasn’t being found by his loitering in the streets of Hogsmeade. With a
determined step he started back towards Hogwarts.
************************************************************************
Harry traipsed up Diagon Alley for the fourth time. His feet were beginning to
hurt. He’d already been in Flourish and Botts twice, The Magical Menagerie, the
cauldron shop, Madam Malkins’ Robes for all Occasions and both of the stationery
stores.
He had already made two stops at the Leaky Cauldron, just to rejuvenate himself
and let Hagrid know he was alive and well, and he was running out of time. It
had taken him two days to come up with a plan to get himself to Diagon Alley and
Christmas was only three days away now! Why was it so hard to shop for his
husband?
//Probably because his needs are so minimal. I swear he wouldn’t eat unless I
reminded him to take his nose out of his potions books.//
Harry smiled at the thought of the man he had fallen so hard for. At the
beginning of their marriage he’d been unsure whether their marriage would be a
success, but Severus had shown a side to Harry he seldom showed to others. A
caring man despite his prickly exterior.
//Very much like a cactus, in fact. All sharp needles on the outside, but a soft
and sweet inside if you take the time to find it.//
Harry concluded that Severus would probably whip out his wand for a quick Avada
Kedavra on him if he ever heard that sentiment voiced by Harry. He grinned and
decided not to press his luck.
He was passing Gringotts again when he saw the entrance to Knockturn Alley. A
seedy place, a dangerous place if one didn’t know what they were doing, but
still…
Harry quickly turned into the Alley and headed for Borgin & Burkes. It was a
place that supplied traffickers in the dark arts with their materials, but it
also upon occasion had unique items from estate sales found no where else.
It couldn’t hurt to try. After all, Harry was alert and had his wand at the
ready. Besides, it was still daylight. The alley only truly lived up to its evil
reputation after dark.
As the front door ward tinkled, Harry stepped inside the dark store. Items lined
the shelves in glass jars; some recognizable and some not. Boxes were piled up
in corners, apparently never having been opened. Dust lay thick on all the
surfaces.
Harry winced. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
“Would the young gentleman be requiring some help?”
Harry jumped at the sound of the voice in the otherwise quiet store. He looked
over near the window and saw an older goblin stacking items for the window
display.
Harry gaped a bit, since he had never seen a Goblin work outside of Gringotts.
They seemed to have an affinity for the wizarding bank and its monies.
“Errr…yes, if you please. I’m looking for a gift for my husband. A sort of one
of a kind item, but I’m not sure what. I thought I might stop in here and…”
Harry’s voice started to drift off.
“But, of course, sir. We stock many unique and valuable items. Where do your
husband’s interests lie?” asked the stocky Goblin.
Harry looked down at the floor. What, besides potions, was Sev interested in?
Quidditch? God no. Politics? No, he loathed them. Destroying Voldemort seemed
his main occupation in life and that was more out of necessity than choice.
//Ah, but history is an area of interest for him. He loves antiques and family
genealogy. That’s it!!//
“Antiques,” Harry spat out. “He likes things with a lot of history attached to
them,” he said, nodding his head.
“Ah,” said the sharp-eyed Goblin. “I just might have what you’re looking for.”
And with that he walked away to one of the dusty corners and began to pull both
large and small boxes apart with little regard to where they landed.
Harry looked more closely at the Goblin and noted that his waistcoat and pants
were velvet. The vest was green and the pants were red.
//He looks like a Christmas present.//
“AH HA!”
Harry nearly jumped out of his skin, as the Goblin, with his trundling walk,
began to bring Harry back a small black box. Harry snapped out of his
woolgathering and looked closely at the tiny box.
“Are you sure this is something my husband would be interested in?” Harry said.
The Goblin cocked his head at Harry and studied him. “Oh, I’m sure it will, Mr.
Potter,” he said.
Harry stiffened. “How did you know who I am?” he said suspiciously. He was
beginning to think this had been a bad idea.
With his sharp nails, the Goblin pointed to Harry’s infamous scar. “Best to hide
that, Mr. Potter, when going out and about in the world. Not everyone is as
friendly as Mr. Murtt, that is myself,” he said with a deep bow.
Harry relaxed fractionally. If any harm had been intended, the Goblin wouldn’t
have been making conversation with him. He was overreacting, as usual.
“Alright, let me see what is in the box,” he said.
Harry looked down at the box and, as Mr. Murtt snapped it open, he saw a ring.
But not just any ring. It was a man’s ring in heavy gold with intricate designs
carved into it and, at its center, a large, sparkling sapphire. It was a thing
of beauty.
//I bet it costs the earth.//
“Where did this come from, if I may ask, Mr. Murtt?” said Harry
The Goblin’s eyes shifted evasively away from Harry’s. “A very exclusive estate
sale some years ago.” He waved one hand in the air. “My first as a
representative of Borgin and Burkes,” he said with a touch of pride.
“It’s very beautiful. I can’t imagine why it wouldn’t have been sold before now.
It doesn’t have any curses on it, does it?” Harry said a bit distrustfully.
“Certainly not,” huffed Mr. Murtt. “The Ministry of Magic would *never* allow us
to carry such merchandise.”
“Well…it is very unique.”
“Oh, very, Mr. Potter. You might say it’s a one of a kind item,” the proprietor
said in a conspiratorial tone.
Harry looked at the ring and then back at the goblin.
“I don’t even know if it’s my husband’s size,” he began.
“What ring size is your husband?” Mr. Murtt asked.
“Thirteen,” said Harry.
“Perfect,” said the salesclerk. “That’s the exact size of the ring. Not that we
couldn’t have magically sized it for you, but you see, it seems it was destined
for your husband.”
Curiosity got the better of Harry. “But why would no one buy such a beautiful
antique ring before now if you’ve had it so long?” he said.
“Possibly because I’ve never offered it to the public before,” Mr. Murtt said in
a tone remarkably like his husband’s. “Of course, if you don’t want it…”
“I’ll take it. Do you gift wrap?” Harry asked.
The goblin clerk all but rolled his eyes. “Mr. Potter, this is not Flourish &
Blotts here,” he began.
“Never mind,” Harry began hastily. “I can do it myself. How much is the ring?”
“Two hundred galleons,” said Mr. Murtt placidly.
Harry sputtered. “But, but, but…”
“I know, I know, and a bargain at that price.” The clerk smirked and moved away
to wrap up the box in plain paper.
“I’ll have to stop by Gringotts. Won’t be a tick. I’ll be back in ten minutes.
*Don’t * sell that ring to anyone else in the meantime,” Harry said as he tore
out of the store.
“Oh, not to worry, Mr. Potter. This ring was meant for you and your bond-mate.
It’s waited a long time to find a new home.” The Goblin slowly smiled and his
finger tapped out a rhythm on the box as he awaited Harry’s return.
************************************************************************
Harry slowly awoke from a deep sleep. Severus’ arms were curled around him and
despite a full bladder Harry was loath to move from his “nest”. He shifted
slightly and felt the “good” ache in his arse from Severus’ lovemaking last
night.
//It was so perfect last night.//
Harry cracked open his eyes and looked at the Christmas gifts Dobby had stacked
in their bedroom the night before. Hermione, Ron, the Weasleys and his godfather
had sent him gifts. But the most important one lay on top and that was from his
husband. The green wrapping sparkled and shone. Harry was intensely interested
to find out what Sev had gotten him. Beside it in gold wrapping lay the tiny box
with Harry’s gift in it.
//I hope he likes it. I’ve never seen Severus wear jewelry. Well, with the
exception of our bond bracelets.//
Severus started to shift and a gruff voice next to Harry’s ear whispered. “Merry
Christmas, Harry.”
Harry squirmed in Severus’ arms and turned to face him. “Merry Christmas,
Severus, and many more happy ones,” he said in a whisper.
They started to lightly snog in bed, but Harry’s bladder was emphatically
reminding him he had to use the facilities.
“Mmmpphh…bathroom. I’ll be back,” Harry said with a chuckle.
Severus looked at the wizards clock on the opposite wall. “Take your time and
have your shower. We overslept a bit and the Christmas brunch will be in a
little over half an hour. I’m sure Albus will be *devastated* if we’re not in
attendance,” he said dryly.
Fifteen minutes later Harry stepped out of the bathroom with only a towel around
his waist.
“Your turn. Hurry, Severus, I want us to open our gifts before we join the
others in the Great Hall,” Harry ordered.
Harry gave Severus a gentle shove in the direction of the bathroom and received
an icy glare in return.
“You can’t fool me, Severus. I know you are dying to know what I got you,” Harry
grinned.
“Troublesome, cheeky bastard,” Severus grumbled as he took himself off to his
morning ritual.
Fifteen minutes later, with towel dried hair, Severus came out to find Harry
bouncing on his heels, holding a tiny box in gold wrapping with a red bow.
“Open it. Open it,” Harry said.
“No. You must open mine first. Anticipation, Mr. Potter, makes the treat all the
sweeter,” Severus said with a mocking glance.
“That’s not what you said last night, Sev,” Harry said with a cheeky grin.
Severus coughed into his hand. “Never the less, please open mine first.”
Harry took the gift wrapped in Slytherin green and a silver bow. It was a very
thin box. He turned it over a few times before tearing the wrapping off.
A plain brown box met his gaze. Harry opened it. Inside were some papers.
Curious, he removed them and started to read. His eyes opened as wide as
saucers. This was a deed! A deed to a house in the Lake District. It was in his
and Severus’ names.
“Severus, what? how?” Harry started to speak.
“It’s a summer home for us, Harry. Just for us. Away from Hogwarts and hidden
from the rest of the wizarding world. No one will know its whereabouts save you,
Dumbledore and myself. When we want time to ourselves, we can enjoy the house
and grounds,” Severus said, obviously a tad uncomfortable. He was more
accustomed to having curses thrown his way rather than thanks and praise.
“Severus, I can’t believe you went to all this trouble for me. It’s wonderful,
perfect. When will I get a chance to see it?” Harry said with a chuckle.
Severus cleared his throat several times. the only indication that his emotions
were stirred.
“Just before the end of the school break I’ll take you there myself for the
*grand* tour,” he said gruffly.
Harry wrapped his arms around his husband and held on tightly. He felt Severus’
arms pull him closer.
“I’m so lucky, Sev, that I’ve got you. Thank you,” he whispered.
“You’re welcome. Now come, let us go up to the brunch or Albus will send Dobby
after us,” Severus said as he tried gently to break away from Harry.
“No, no, you’ve got to open your present, too!”
Harry handed his husband the small box. It seemed so insignificant now, compared
to what Severus had done for him. Harry looked on anxiously as Severus carefully
opened his gift.
Severus looked into the small box and saw the beautiful ring.
“Harry, it’s wonderful.” Severus carefully took the ring out of the box and
examined it closely, noting all the highly detailed work on the gold and the
clarity of the sapphire that sat in its center.
Harry started to babble. “I wasn’t sure if you’d like it. If you don’t, I can
take it back and get something else,” he continued.
Severus slowly put the ring on his left hand ring finger and examined it
closely. “No, Harry, it’s magnificent. I don’t remember when I’ve seen a more
beautiful antique ring. I’ll wear it always.”
Harry looked anxiously into his husband’s face, but saw only the truth there. He
really did like his gift. Harry let loose a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been
holding.
“I’m so glad, Severus. I didn’t really know what to get you and this ring just
*called* to me.”
Severus leaned down and kissed Harry lightly. “I’ll treasure it always.”
Harry returned the kiss and they were just starting to get down to some serious
snogging when Dobby popped in beside them.
“Sirs,” squeaked Dobby. “Headmaster says to come up to the Great Hall.”
Severus glared at Dobby and, with a squeal, he popped back out again.
“Let us go, then, and get the “merry-making” out of the way,” Severus said with
a long-suffering sigh.
Harry smiled and held his husband’s hand as they exited their rooms and left the
dungeon area for the Great Hall.
************************************************************************
The Great Hall was decorated brightly, merrily festooned with garland, bows and
magical candles that never went out. There were also tons of garland strewn over
the walls and staircases, as well as a large pine tree with hand-made ornaments
by the children in the center of the hall.
The ordinary set-up for seating had been changed due to the low number of
students remaining at Hogwarts for the holidays. Between the four houses there
were a total of fourteen students, so Dumbledore had ordered four small tables
to be brought up from storage and placed close to the Staff’s table.
Professors Snape, Sprout, McGonagall and Sinistra, as well as Dumbledore, sat at
the Staff table.
As soon as everyone was settled, Dumbledore stood up.
“No speeches today. Well, just a short one,” Dumbledore began.
Severus groaned to himself.
“Ahem, I wish all of you and yours to have the happiest and safest of holiday
seasons,” with that, Albus took out his wand and, with a swish and sharp flick,
brought forth Christmas crackers that fell in front of all the students and
faculty.
“Show off,” Severus muttered.
Dumbledore smiled benignly at all in attendance. “You may all find a partner and
pull your crackers now. Then we’ll eat.”
Harry turned towards the sole other Gryffindor who was staying over the
holidays. He was a small second year boy by the name of Albert Wiggins. The
child smiled shyly at the famous Harry Potter and held out his cracker.
“Severus, you may pull your cracker with me, if you’d like,” said a smiling
Dumbledore.
“Oh, happy day,” Severus said as he brought the cracker towards Dumbledore with
his left hand.
“SEVERUS!” Dumbledore shouted.
The room erupted into chaos. The professors as well as Harry whipped out their
wands, looking for the source of the danger; the smaller children dove under
their tables looking for safety. Hagrid, who’d just been entering the Hall, ran
with great strides towards the shaken group.
Dumbledore quickly got up and motioned everyone into silence. The shaken crowd
of students was still looking around for the threat. The headmaster *never*
shouted, it was unheard of.
“Forgive me, please forgive me for startling you. It seems that Professor Snape
had a little surprise for me. A little joke,” he said weakly.
Harry looked at Dumbledore in disbelief. Something was very wrong here.
Harry turned and smiled at the shaking child beside him.
“It’s alright, really. Headmaster Dumbledore *never* lies.”
//Not much, he doesn’t//
Harry pulled the cracker with the boy and gave him the little paper crown that
popped out.
“Here, Albert, this will look much better on you,” Harry said as he gently
placed the paper crown on the boy’s head.
Just then the food appeared on the tables and the students and staff turned
their full attention to it.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Severus and Dumbledore conferring. They
got up and started to leave the hall. Harry excused himself and tore after them.
As he turned the corner into the hallway, he ran into Severus' back.
“Sorry. Just had to see what’s wrong,” Harry said with a sheepish look.
“Harry, did you ever stop to think…”
Dumbledore looked at the couple and smiled inwardly.
//A marriage of convenience has turned into a love match I see. How lovely.//
“Severus, it’s fine, let Harry stay,” Dumbledore said.
Harry looked anxiously at the two of them. “What’s wrong, Headmaster? What
happened back there?”
“I was just about to explain, Harry. But first, Severus, hold out your left
hand.”
Unquestioning, Severus did so. Dumbledore took out his wand and waved it over
the hand, calmly reciting an incantation as he did so.
“That’s alright then,” he said with a sigh.
“Albus, what is going on here?” Severus’ face looked like a thundercloud.
“A moment, Severus.” With that, he cast a silencing charm around them.
“Headmaster, why are we hiding in this hallway? What did you do to Severus?”
Harry was starting to get agitated. If something was wrong with Severus he had
to know.
“It’s all right, Harry, nothing’s wrong with your husband,” said Dumbledore,
showing again his uncanny ability to read people.
Dumbledore picked up Severus’ left hand.
“This is what my reaction was all about. The ring.”
“The ring? The ring I gave to Sev? What about it?” Harry turned a worried look
on Severus, but his husband remained calm.
Dumbledore looked grave. “Harry, where did you get this ring? And when?” he
said.
“Why, a few days ago in…errr…”
“Where, Harry?” Severus said in a commanding tone.
//Oh, Sev, don’t be too angry with me.//
“Well, I went to Diagon Alley to look for your gift but I couldn’t find
anything, so I went to Borgin & Burke’s in Knockturn Alley…”
“You what?” Severus exploded. “You foolish boy! Don’t you know the danger you
put yourself in? That alley is frequented by deatheaters looking for dark magic
supplies. You could have been kidnapped or killed!” Severus said, turning an
unhealthy shade of red.
“I’m sorry. But it was daylight and I had my wand and…”
Severus looked about to erupt. “I don’t care if you had a squad of Aurors with
you. You are *never* to do something like that again,” he roared.
Dumbledore realized they’d forgotten he was even there. He cleared his throat
noisily.
“Gentlemen, if we could please return to the topic at hand. I’m sure you can
continue this discussion later,” Dumbledore said in a pleasant voice, but his
eyes were serious.
A stricken Harry turned his attention back to the Headmaster.
“Severus?” Dumbledore said in a harder tone.
“At your service, Albus,” he said mockingly.
Dumbledore continued. “The reason for my genuine concern is that I had seen this
ring before. It has an unusual and shall we say checkered history.”
“And….” Severus said, gritting his teeth.
“It belonged to someone I had the misfortune of dealing with many years ago…”
“Who?” said Harry, fearing it might have belonged to the Malfoys. That would
just ruin his gift if those gits had ever worn it.
Dumbledore looked down and studied the floor for a moment. He looked back up at
Harry and Severus and said, “Grindelwald.”
“Grindelwald, the dark wizard you defeated? Oh, bloody hell,” said Harry.
“Mr. Potter,” began Severus dryly. “You seem to have an uncanny knack for
attracting dark wizards, both alive and dead.”
“Sev, honestly, I didn’t know. The Goblin said it was from an estate sale…”
“Hmmpphh…more likely he was close to the last battlefield and scuttled in to
steal it. I’m not sure how it survived, because Grindelwald was pretty much ash
by the end,” Dumbledore frowned in remembrance.
“It’s not dangerous, is it sir? It doesn’t have any spells or ill luck attached
to it?” Harry asked in a worried tone.
“No, no Harry. Don’t trouble yourself. I’ve already checked it out myself.
Nothing remains of Grindelwald and his evil ways in that ring. That’s the spell
I did earlier over Severus hand, to make sure it offered no kind of threat. Be
assured it doesn’t.”
“Thank you, headmaster,” said in some relief.
“Odd though,” Dumbledore said.
Severus turned a sharp look on him.
“What?” Harry said.
“Odd that at a time we’re fighting another dark lord this should come to light,”
he said.
“Do you think it a bad omen? Maybe I should just get Severus another gift and
let you destroy this,” Harry said.
“No, Harry,” Dumbledore said gently. “In fact, I think it’s a very good omen.
Grindelwald was a terrible evil in his day and yet we managed to overcome him.
In the end, the light won. This ring is something of a symbol of that victory. I
think Severus should wear it proudly.”
“I will, Albus, both for that reason and the fact that Harry gave it to me,”
Severus replied.
“Very good. I’ll leave the two of you, shall I?” Dumbledore said with a wicked
grin.
He brought out his wand and issued a Finite Incantatum to end the silencing
spell.
Severus glared as Dumbledore walked back towards the feast, whistling
cheerfully.
“Sev, I’m sorry for all the trouble. Really, you don’t *have* to wear it because
I gave it to you. I’ll understand if you don’t feel comfortable with it. I can
always get you something else,” Harry said as he moved into Severus’ arms.
“No, Harry, Albus is right. This ring is a symbol of the ultimate victory. I
want to wear it proudly in the upcoming days. It will serve as a reminder of
what we fight for and most particularly who I have to stay alive for,” Severus
said gently.
Harry raised his head for a kiss and Severus obliged.
“Merry Christmas, Sev,” whispered Harry as they separated.
Severus touched Harry’s face and stroked his cheek.
“Merry Christmas, my love.”
End
SPIKE/XANDER
Title: Chestnuts
Author: Kayla
RATING: R, still with the possible NC-17 for innuendo
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Fandom: Buffy
Disclaimer: Santa hasn't shown up with them yet, but I have lots of rope just
ready to tie up them reindeer. Heh, this'll teach him to ignore *my* Christmas
list!
Note: Sequel to 'Eggnog'. Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated
at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent
Feedback Email address:
kayla6978@aol.com
Chestnuts
"I don't believe this."
"What's that, luv?"
"Stop calling me that! I can't believe I had sex with you! Twice!"
"Um, pet? It was three times. See, there was the mistletoe, then the eggnog,
then the blowjob earlier-- which, by the way, you still haven't paid me back
for."
"Paid you---oh no! I am not-- No way!"
"Aw, come on Xan. Turnabout an' all that. S'only fair."
"I am *not*--Spike! Put your pants back on!"
"Nope."
"Would you-- get that away from me! I am *not* sucking your--mmmph!"
"Mmmmm."
"...Spike? You taste funny."
"...I just gave you a blowjob, what'd you expect."
"Eep!"
"Now..."
"No. Huh-uh! Back, you fiend!"
"Oh fine! Be that way!"
"..."
"..."
"Spike, what are you--ack! Oh! Ooooohhhh..."
"Nice, pet?"
"Sssssspiiiiiike..."
"Can't let all these lovely hot chestnuts go to waste, can I?"
"That's...ow! Hot! You...ohhhhhh..."
"You got such pretty little nipples, Xan. Look how the just peak up for me."
"Oooooohhh...mouth...with the tongue...mmmmm...ah! Oh! Hot! Very....mmmmm."
"What about one riiiight...*here*."
"Spiiiiiiiike! Ungh!"
"Or...here. And I could do *this* too..."
"Eeek! Ooh...ooh...ooh..."
"Or I could always do this..."
"Ah! Uhhhhhh! Spiiiike!"
"...well that was quick."
"..."
"Ok, now you're two up on me. This really ain't fair, luv."
"..."
"Now you just be a good boy an' open up for Spike..."
"Hmmmm?"
"That's it, pet. Just a bit wider. Wanna see your lips wrapped around me."
"Mmmph!"
"Shhh. That's right. Not gonna hurt you. Now just suck a little--ah! Yes!"
"Mmmph-hmmmph?"
"Shit! Do that again!"
"Hrrmmmph?"
"Yes! Oh! Lemme in, Xan. Ooohhh...."
"Ulg!"
"Yeah, like that...just...relax your throat a bit..."
"..."
"Ahhhh...oh god, Xan..."
"Hmmmmm..."
"Yeah...oh! Do the thing again...with the tongue. Ah!"
"Mmmmph?"
"Use the...ah! Teeth! Oh god, More! Do it again!"
"Mmmm..."
"Yes! Yesssss! Ah! Oh! Uuuuuuhhhhhhh..."
"..."
"...that was...bloody...fantastic, luv."
"Hrmmmph!"
"What? Oh, sorry 'bout that. Lemme just..."
"Gack! Ack!"
"What is your problem *now*?"
"You...you *came* in my *mouth*!"
"Well if you wanna go gettin' all technical about it, I came in your *throat*.
Although you do have a little bit..."
"Mmmmph!"
"Mmmmm."
"I taste so good inside you, luv."
"Don't call me--eep!"
"Well look at that. These chestnuts are still nice an' warm."
"Spike, you can't--oooohhhhh..."
"Oh yeah, pet. You like that, don't you?"
"Oooohhhhh....damn...chestnuts...ah!"
"Just relax..."
"Spike! You can't put a chestnut *there*!"
Finit
JIM/BLAIR
Title: Mistletoe
Author: Mereridkat/Margaret Newman
RATING: R
Pairing: Jim/Blair
Fandom: The Sentinel
Disclaimer: I don't own them, though I wish I did. I'm not making any money at
this, just enjoying the boys.
Note: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent
Author's note: thanks to the ladies at Preyland for the beta!
Feedback Email address:
mereridkat@aol.com
MISTLETOE
It's
been a really long day. Jim and I snuggled up in the big bed, covers tucked in
around us. We're just holding on to each other. We both too tired to start
anything. His arms are wrapped around me, and my head is resting on his chest.
The most soothing sound in the whole world for me is the steady beating of his
heart.
Surviving the Christmas party for Major Crimes is a big deal. We have to be
careful all the time. How we stand -not too close together. How we look at each
other -not too meaningful. Most the time we can't even sit together. No holding
hands, no leaning against each other like a regular het couples.
There are no shouts of, "Kiss! Kiss!" if we happen to stand under the mistletoe.
But it's expected of everyone else. Jim says he doesn't care. I try not to let
it bug me, but it does. I try hard to not think about every little injustice
cause we're gay, and we can't be open about our relationship. But it burns.
Mistletoe is becoming this unhappy symbol for me and I hate it. I try to
approach it with an open mind and a happy heart, but damn, after three years, it
gets old and frustrating. I have to count my blessings. Jim says he can always
tell when I'm doing it too. He says it looks similar to my constipated
expression. (Yes, I did flip him off, thank you.)
Every body has somebody. A politically and socially correct somebody. Carolyn
even came this year with her new husband and their baby girl.
"Oh how sweet." I practiced smiling in the mirror before we went. "Good to see
you, Carolyn."
I saw her watching Jim, getting that wistful look in her eyes. Her husband -he's
younger than her, some hotshot lawyer that pulls down something like $300 thou a
year -held the baby almost the entire time. He knew all the details. How much
she weighed, exact time of birth, etc... Carolyn just shrugged and waved at
"Tim".
Jim was civil to her, handled it all real well. He wasn't happy that she'd been
invited. Simon said he hadn't meant to, but after it was out, he couldn't take
it back.
She started walking over to Jim and my hackles rose. *Off limits, bitch. He's
mine now.*
(Jim said he heard me growl, and that's why he looked around at me.)
I gave him one of my painful smiles and he walked right over to me, never even
glanced at Carolyn. He totally missed her bemused expression.
He leaned down and whispered at me, "Let's blow this joint, Sandburg."
So we left. I think Carolyn was the only one that noticed. I was worried about
that, but Jim said he didn't care.
Simon's free time has been spent keeping up with his new wife. She's a
psychology professor at Rainer, and she has him hustling double-time. So he
didn't notice when we left, but there was a message on the answer machine when
we got home.
We stopped at his dad's house on the way home. Bill has been sick with the flu
the last few weeks, and it worries Jim. Stephen was there with his current
girlfriend, and the conversation was a bit stilted. Jim's dad and brother know
about us, and what's amusing is that Stephen is the one that has the problem.
Bill has been very accepting and very happy for us.
After that uncomfortable visit, Jim and I just came straight home. No fire, no
last beer before turning in. We went straight up here, stripped and crawled into
bed. I think he's drifted off now. His breathing and heart rate have evened out.
I stroke his chest a couple more times.
In the morning we'll make love real slow. Then we'll get up, shower, make
breakfast and face another day. Right now, it's just us. The world outside has
ceased to exist. We hang on to each other when we're alone. It's the only time
that it's safe for us to show affection, to be just simply "together".
Maybe next year we'll get a house. Jim's been talking about me going back to
college, and finishing up my PhD. He's talked about retiring early, and looking
elsewhere for a job. Some place where we can be together and not be judged
unjustly because we happen to be two guys.
But that's next year or the year after. Right now, I kiss the chest my head is
resting on, tighten my arms around him, and slip off to sleep...
END
MISCELLANEOUS (FRASER/KOWALSKI - DUE SOUTH)
Title: 'Twas the Night before Christmas
Author: Bluesky
RATING PG;
Pairing: Ben/Ray
Fandom, Due South
Disclaimer.Due South is not mine, Ray and Ben are not mine, Deif is not mine.
Disclamers are just that. I am not claiming any of them. Just using them and
tossing them away like gift wrap. No cash is being made, If any one would be
so silly as to try and sue me, you will get two Chow Chows that bite, and a
large stack of slash zines.
Note: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar Challenge situated at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent
Feedback Email address: Desidera21@aol.com
'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
"Would you look at this line?" Ray was
getting frustrated. "Christmas is
tomorrow. I still have to buy some gifts. Francine will murder me if I don't
get her something after what she went through.."
"Ray? Do you notice any thing unusual about that man in the red suit?" Ben
frowned a bit in concentration.
"That he's not a Mountie? That he is surrounded by Elves giving out candy
canes? He's a Santa for gods sake. That is what they do."
"I believe that the Elves are a diversion. The teller is filling up his sack
with Cash. I think that we are in the middle of a hold up."
"Great." Ray squinted at the man at the teller. "Your right...If we take it
nice and easy, he will be out of here and we can get home...."
Too late. The Mountie had left his side and was heading to apprehend the Anti
Claus. Ray sighed, and pulled out his Gun. Shopping would have to wait.
An elf spotted Frazer heading toward the Santa. The diminutive figure acted
quickly and tossed a round ornament at Benny's feet, Intent on apprehending
the scarlet dressed wrong doer, Ben missed the ball under foot. He did not
fall, but was off balance enough that he grab, The 12 foot Christmas Tree for
suport. In the wild of Canada, this would have been a perfectly logical and
practical thing. Here in Chicago, well...
The tree went down. Frazer went down. The eight Tiny Rain Deer and Rudolph
went down. Lucky, Santa Clause also went down, as the top of the tree
smacked him squarely in the head with a heavy star Ornament.
Ray round up the Elves, Two children and one dwarf, as Ben Cuffed the un
concuss Santa. The gun that he had been holding on the Teller was a Toy, but
the act was enough to guarantee that he would be spending Christmas in jail,
and that his cards should be forward there. No giving of presents for St Nick.
Sad to say, the same would be true for Ray and Ben. The paper work was not
done till long after the Banks were closed.
Ray sighed, looking up at Ben. The wolf had the grace to look away.
"You know somehow in the cosmic scheme of things, this has to be your fault.
Here it is, Christmas Eve. No Presents, No Kissing under the Mistletoe, no
Fruitcake."
"I am sorry Ray. I understand your feelings. But I assure you that I did not
have any hand in the Bank robbery. We were just in the right place at the
right time. I how ever do have something that might make you feel better."
Ben reached inside of his suite. and brought out a small gift wrapped box. "I
was going to wait till later, but this seems to be the right time."
"Wow. I mean, I don't have .. I didn't get a chance.. Thanks Frazer...."
"Open it." Ben's eyes were pleading for something. "I will understand if you
do not like it.."
"What ever it is, I will love it. Cause it came from the heart."
Deftly he undid the gift wrap. Inside was a wooden carved turtle. Around its
neck was a ribbon with a bit of greenery attached, studded with white and red
berries.
"This is great! you did this? Wow."
"I found the wood in the park, a branch had been struck by lightning, The
Mistletoe was attached to the branch. It seemed to be prophetic."
Over come by his friends caring Ray leaped up and hugged his friend, Carving
still in hand.
Ray was unprepared for the Kiss, as his partners firm mouth came down on his.
An electric shock. how could someone that looked so cool, kiss so hot?
And Ray was lost. Love was found, and Dief stole the box that held the
fruitcake wile they were distracted. Neither one cared.
Bluesky