December 10

CRIME:

Sentinel/Due South Crossover - Jim/Blair/Fraser/Kowalski

Author: Angelee
Title: Embarrassment of Riches
Date: December 10, 2004
Pairing: Jim/Blair/Fraser/Ray (preslash)
Fandom: Due South/Sentinel
Rating: R-17
Summary: A cabin and four beautiful men. What could possibly happen?
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.

Embarrassment of Riches

“Grrr.”

Blair looked down at one of his very wet companions. “I know buddy. I’m cold and wet too. And all because Jim-The Super Cop had to go chasing The Bad Guys through the Cascade Mountains. Through icy roads we shouldn’t have been on, I might add. Landing us in a ditch full of freezing water. Now the truck is broken and we have no way of getting back Cascade.” Blair said glaring at Super Cop. “And now with snow coming according to Fraser, a bad snow storm. So not only are we very wet we’re going to freeze to death out here. You’re lucky you didn’t get killed sitting in the back of the truck when we went flying into the ditch, Deif. Are you sure you’re alright?” He asked the wolf, expecting him to answer.

The white wolf looked up at Blair and woofed slightly, shaking his soaked fur.

Jim looked at Blair apologetically. “I said I was sorry and I did apologize to Dief.”

“That he did, Blair.”

“I know, Ray. But being stuck out in the middle of nowhere an ‘I’m sorry’ just doesn’t cut it.” Blair told Ray Kowalski. The blond Chicago detective along with his unofficial partner Benton Fraser had been sent to collect two escaped prisoners. Fraser was currently scouting the area for proper shelter. “And besides we don’t even have the escaped prisoners to show for it. They’re probably in a nice hotel room all warm and cozy and ordering room service right about now laughing their buns off.”

Ray chuckled. “Yeah. You’re probably right about that. It’ll be alright. Fraser will find us someplace warm to wait out the snow.”

“How long did Ben say we had before it hits?”

“About an hour.” Ray replied looking out toward the area his Mountie had gone.

Blair sighed. Trying his best to fling the collected water from his hair. Flinging it vengefully at his Sentinel.

Jim glared at him balefully. “Stop it.”

“Why? It’s your fault we’re out here. You and you stunt car maneuvers could have gotten us all killed. I’m just lucky that Ben caught me or I would have gotten tossed out the windshield.”

“We’ll I for one wish you had. Maybe that would have kept your big mouth shut.”

“Ha. I would have come back as a ghost and haunted your dreams for the rest of your life.” Blair told him, a twinkle his in large, expressive blue eyes.

Jim sighed unhappily. “Just my luck.”

Blair chuckled. “Yup. And I love you too.”

Ray watched the Cascade detective and his official observer. Their relationship was close. He wished that his and Fraser was just as close. He sighed softly. Maybe some day.

Just then his favorite Mountie came walking calmly through the bushes. “I have found a cabin half a mile to the south. We can seek shelter there.”

“Hey, Ray, I’ll trade you.” Blair said, looking over at the Chicago Detective who’d quickly become one of his friend as they started walking toward the area Fraser had indicated the cabin was. “Yeah, I’ll trade you Jim for Fraser.”

“Hey.” Jim protested loudly.

“Yeah.” Blair continued totally ignoring his glaring Sentinel. “One car stunting detective who has ruined, what is it now Jim, two cars in as many years? Who hates everything and everyone for one totally cool and self-sufficient Mountie with a even cooler white wolf.”

Said wolf made an agreeable noise making them all laugh. “Deif seem to like that idea, Blair. We might be able to make a deal, but let me think about it.” Ray told him.

“Good idea, Ray.” Jim said grabbing his partner by the back of his very wet neck giving him an affectionate shake “Don’t be giving me away to strangers. I know where you live and what you’re into, buddy mine.”

“Ow! Quit it. I’m not into anything.” Blair denied.

“Oh yeah? What about you and those copies of Anthropology Today. I saw how you looked at those pictures of the ruins in the Andes. You were drooling.”

Blair scoffed. “Like that’s a big secret, everyone knows I drool over ruins.”

“Oh, yeah how about the way you were looking at that skeleton. That male skeleton, I might add.”

“You wouldn’t?”

Jim nodded his cap-covered head. “I would. I’ll take a whole page ad in the Cascade Today, just to advertise it, too.”

Blair shook his head sending water spraying all over everyone. “Oh, man-that’s just cold.”

“Yes it is. Care to give me away again?”

“Oh, all right I’ll keep you for a little while longer.” Blair said reluctantly. “Though I’d really rather have Fraser.” Blair added, smiling up at his Sentinel affectionately.

Jim took Blair into a bear hug. “Yeah, I know you would but, you’ll just have to suffer. Are you sure you didn’t get hurt when we hit the ditch?”

Blair returned the hug. “I’m fine, really. Is that the cabin you were talking about, Ben?” He asked, pulling away from his Sentinel slowly.

“Yes, that’s the one.”

Ray moved toward the door. “Greatness. Finally someplace warm.”

“Ray, we cannot just break in.” Fraser told him shocked.

Ray rolled his eyes. “Oh, please Frase-would you rather fucking freeze.”

“Language, Ray.” Fraser replied automatically Which earned him another eye roll as Ray jimmied the lock.

“Ta da.” The blond said, opening the door to allow his wet, shivering companions in.

“Ray, does the Chicago PD know you know how to break into cabins.” Blair asked as he took off his wet jacket.

The slight detective put a finger to his lips. “Shh, our secret. Don’t want me to lose my job do you?”

“Heaven forbid.” Blair replied looking around. “Hey, all the comforts of home. Actually more than.”

The cabin was large. With a fireplace taking up the whole southern wall and a open kitchen. It was large and spacious with a long couch talking up a primary spot in front of the fireplace.

“There’s only one bedroom, but take a look at the size of the bed?” Jim said as opened one of the only two door in the cabin. “Who the hell lives here that they need a bed that big. I didn’t even know beds came that big.”

Ray whistled. “Shit, that looks like it’ll be big enough for five people.”

“I’ll light the fireplace so we can start to warm up.” Fraser offered. Before to long all four of them and one very wet wolf were moaning in sheer delight as they crowded around it. The warmth from the fireplace easing the chill that had gone all the way to their bones.

“Oh, Ben-you are the greatest.” Blair told the Mountie happily.

Fraser smiled. “Why thank you kindly, Blair.”

Blair returned the smile shyly. “You are very welcome my Mountie friend. Wanna marry me and move to Cascade?” He asked, only half jokingly as he looked up into the very handsome face of the Canadian Mountie. Watching Fraser blush bright pink.

Blair had become friends quickly with Ray Kowalski, but Fraser was different. It’s not that the Mountie was standoffish. It was more that for someone as beautiful as Fraser he was he was equally as shy. Almost to the point of being immobilized by it.

Blair met Fraser’s eyes wanting desperately to easy the loneliness he saw in those blue depths, but it wasn’t time yet. Not yet, but soon. Very soon. Almost as if Fraser sensed Blair’s thoughts the blush deepened.

Jim shoved his Guide gently breaking into Blair’s thoughts. “Quit it. Leave Fraser alone.”

Blair looked away from Fraser. “Ow! Are you getting jealous, Jim? Don’t be jealous I’ll always love you best even if I like Ben more.” Blair told him, playfully shoving back.

Jim rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. We all know you’re extremely easy. Just ask the nearest table leg.”

“Oh, now that’s just mean. Ben make Jim leave me alone.” Blair said, moving closer to the Mountie’s burly warmth, shivering slightly.

Fraser smiled. “Jim-Blair respectfully requests that you leave him alone.” Shyly pulling Blair to his side when he noticed the curly-haired man shivering.

Before Jim could reply Ray’s stomach growled. “I’m really hungry. Lets see if there’s anything to eat.”

“I think Blair needs to get out of his wet clothing before he catches a cold.” Fraser said softly.

“I’m always cold, Ben. I’ll be alright for a little while yet. Let’s see what’s in the kitchen.”

Fraser frowned, but did as Blair requested. “Well, will you look at that.” Ray said as they looked through the kitchen cabinets. “Someone sure wanted to make sure they were well stocked for the holidays. There’s even a couple of turkeys in here.” He added sticking his head into the wide freezer.

“Yeah, well the way the snows starting to come down I don’t think whoever owns this cabin is not going to make it back here.” Jim replied, looking out the kitchen window. “Looks like we just barely made it. Did somebody try the phone?”

“Dead.” Ray replied, holding it up.

“Figures.” Jim sighed. “Guess we’re stuck here over Christmas.”

Blair saw the worried look in Ben’s blue eyes. He went to where the Mountie stood in the middle of the kitchen. “Don’t worry, Ben.” He said, touching his arm gently. “We’ll either replace what we eat or leave money to cover the cost. “It’ll be alright.”

Fraser gave him a tiny smile. “Thank, you, Blair. That makes me feel better.”

“Don’t worry so much it’ll only give you ulcers.” Blair told him softly. Then impulsively gave the Mountie a hug.

Fraser stiffened not exactly sure how he was suppose to respond. Wide, shocked eyes looked over at Jim who was watching quietly.

Then the Sentinel smiled at him. “You have now officially entered the Sandburg Zone. Do not fight it, do not resist. Not that you could once you’ve entered. You might as well hug him back or he’ll drip all over you till you do.” Slowly Fraser’s arms came around the curly-headed man awkwardly hugging back. “Blair, is very affectionate. The touchy feely type. I think it has to do with his hippy-type upbringing You’ll get use to it. Okay, Blair he’s hugged back. Let him go before you completely freak him out. Why don’t you and Ray go and see if you can find something dry to change into before you catch pneumonia, while Fraser and I make some lunch?”

Blair pulled away slowly. Eyes twinkling mischievously he wrapped his hands around the back of Fraser’s neck and pulled him down quickly giving him a sloppy kiss on the forehead before bouncing away to gather Ray in the search for dry clothing.

Fraser stood still for a long moment blue eyes slightly dazed before Jim’s chuckling brought him out of it. “Like I said before Blair is affectionate to the extreme. If he likes you the more touches and expressions of affections you’ll get. And I’d say Blair really like you.”

“I…I don’t…” Fraser trailed off feeling the blush burning his face hotly.

Jim touched Fraser’s arm. “You’ll get use to it. Blair loves to touch it’s just the way he is. Fraser?” The Mountie looked up. “Don’t hurt him. If you hurt him you’ll answer to me.” Jim told him, blue eyes going cold and hard.

“I…I would never hurt him, Jim. Not on purpose. I’m just not use to being touched so readily.”

“I know. That’s the way I was at first too. Blair broke through my barriers with 180 pounds of sheer happy bounciness. Now I wouldn’t have it any other way. Neither will you-you’ll see. Just don’t hurt him.” Jim warned again.

“I won’t.” Fraser promised solemnly.

While Fraser and Jim set about making something to eat, Blair and Ray searched for something to change into to. Talking and cheerfully teasing each other as they searched.

Ray and Blair had taken to each other right from the start. Both affectionate and if not easy going, at least on Ray’s part, they’d become good friends.

“Hey, look, Ray this’ll fit you.” Blair said, holding up a pair of jeans at least five sizes bigger than the Chicago Detective would normal wear.

“Are you sayin’ I’m fat?”

“Well if the jeans fits…” Blair never got to finish as Ray launched himself at the curly-haired man tumbling him to the ground.

Blair and Ray’s laughter echoes through the cabin as the rolled around the floor like a couple of happily playing puppies.

“Knock it off you two and come and eat.” Jim told them shaking his head, smiling.

Both men on the floor turned to look at him then at each other before tackling each other all over again. Rolling all over the wide floor. Making Deif skip out of the way several times to keep from getting run over.

“Shall I separate them, Jim?”

“Na, let them wear themselves out. They’ll sleep better tonight.” Jim replied as if they were eight year olds needing to use up excess energy.

“Are you sure?” Fraser asked skeptically.

“Yup. You’ll thank me for it later. Here have a sandwich. Want coffee or tea?”

“Tea, please.”

Jim fetched the teapot from one of the several low counters. “This sure is one well stocked kitchen. Wish mine had half as much stuff as this one does. Earl Gray or Chamomile?”

“Chamomile, please.”

Jim poured hot water over the tea. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.”

“Yes.”

“We’re going to be snowed in.”

“It seems so.”

“Shit.”

“Language, Jim.” Fraser replied, taking the cup of tea the Sentinel offered.

“Sorry.” Jim replied absently, knowing how the Mountie felt about cussing. “It’s just that this is the second Christmas Blair’s spent with me and I wanted to make it special. I never cared for the holidays before and I really messed up the first one and I wanted to make it up to Blair. I had it all planned. Got the biggest turkey in Cascade I could find with all the trimming, all ready to go. Got him a Christmas present that took me months to find.” Jim looked over at his curly-haired partner still rolling around the floor with Ray. Deif barking happily chasing after them as they rolled. “Shit.” He said sadly. “It’s all my fault we’re stuck here.”

“It’s not your fault we hit a patch of black ice, Jim. Only your driving skills kept us all from getting killed. The only thing that suffered through all this was your truck and it can be fixed. And besides we may be away from home, Jim. But we can still make Christmas special for Blair.”

Jim turned to look at Fraser. “You think so?”

“I know so. We have everything here. There’s a turkey in the freezer. If we start thawing it now it should be ready for Christmas Eve.”

Ray and Blair had finally stopped rolling. The curly-haired man pushing at the slight blond. “Get off, chubby. You weigh a ton.”

“Who you calling chubby?”

“Well, if the chub fits…” He said, laughing up at Ray.

“Oh, I’m goin’ to get you for that.”

Blair pushed at him again. “Ha. You and who’s army?”

“Just me. That’s all I need.”

“Ha.” Ray started tickling Blair. “Ow. Stop. Stop.”

“Give. Say Uncle.”

“Never. Unto my dying breath, never.” Blair vowed breathlessly. “Ow. Ow. Ah. Stop. Stop.”

“Give.” Ray said tickling Blair’s side unmercifully.

“Never. Jim. Jim, help. Help.”

“Oh, callin’ for reinforcements are ya?”

“Hell, yeah. Jim. Jim. He’s killing me-help.” Blair called, giggling helplessly.

“Sorry buddy. No can do. I’m eating.” Jim replied, taking a huge bite of his ham sandwich.

“Ah, you’re suppose to be my friend.”

“Am.” Jim said as he took another bite of his sandwich. “But you don’t need any help, he’s a skinny little twerp, you can take him.”

“Hey.” Ray glared at the grinning Sentinel. “What’s this with my weight? Is this pick on the kid from Chicago day?”

“Yup.” Blair declared happily as he deftly flipped Ray over pinning him.

Ray looked up at him stunned. “Hey, you cheated.”

“Yup. Learned that move from Jim.” He rested his weight heavily against that of his new friend earning a grunt of pain. “Do you surrender.”

“No.” Ray declared defiantly, blue eyes flashing merrily.

Blair tried to tangle his fingers in Ray’s short, spiky, blond hair-couldn’t so he grabbed his angular face. “Do you surrender?” He whispered menacingly.

“Never.”

“Okay. I will resort to other means to win this battle of wills.”

“Huh?”

Blair proceeded to kiss Ray’s face. Laying butterfly kisses all over the stunned face looking up at him. “Surrender, now.”

“No.” Ray replied, trying to avoid Blair’s mouth, giggling. “Never.”

Blair using more pressure held Ray still. “Last chance. Surrender.”

“No.”

Given his answer, Blair held Ray still as he lowered his face to kiss the blond senseless. Even going as far as to stick his tongue into Ray’s mouth. When he pulled away the blond wiped his mouth. “Blah, that has got to be the worst kiss I’ve ever had.”

“Liar.”

“It’s true. Deif kisses better than that.” Ray declared. The white wolf who’d been watching them with great interest agreed with a short bark.

“Want another one see if I can do better?” Blair challenged softly.

Ray tilted his head to one side, thinking about it. “Na. Not right now. I’d rather eat.”

Blair looked at him. “Yeah, me too. Later?”

Ray pushed Blair off him. “I’ll think about it. Not to hard though your kissing sucks.”

“Ow.” Blair landed on the floor hard. “Watch it. Does not.”

“Does.”

“I’ve never had any complaints.”

Ray offered his hand to his new friend. “Who you been kissin’ brick walls?”

“Brick walls, my ass.” Blair said, excepting Ray’s hand.

“Yeah, well that’s the only thing that wouldn’t be complainin’.”

Blair jumped on Ray’s back, wrapping his arms around the blond’s neck. “Damn, and you’re sayin’ about me being fat?” Ray complained as he carried Blair toward Jim, Fraser and food. “Jim, you gotta teach Blair here how to kiss. He kisses like a woose.”

“You’ve got to quit using so much gel, Blondie. These spikes could cause a mortal wound.” He told Ray. “No. I don’t. Huh, Jim?” He added looking at his Sentinel from where his head rested on top of Ray’s head.

“Well, I don’t have any complaints.” Jim said smiling.

Blair peered down at Ray from the over the top of the blond’s head. “See.”

Ray made a disparaging sound. “Right. Jim’s your friend. He’ll lie for you.”

“No he wouldn’t. No you wouldn’t, huh Jim?”

“Nope.” Jim replied, taking a deep swallow of his coffee. “Much.”

“What?” Blair asked, frowning.

“I wouldn’t lie for you, much.” Jim said, giving Blair a tiny smile.

“Are you saying I don’t kiss good?”

“Never said that.”

“Well what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you kiss good most of the time.”

“Huh? Oh, never mind I’ll sort this out after I eat, maybe.” Blair said dismissively, sliding off Ray. He went to the table offering a sandwich to the blond before taking one for himself. Blair didn’t even bother offering Ray tea. Knowing the blond hated it with a passion, instead pouring him coffee after going to his jacket and taking out a soggy bag of M &M’s. Earning a grateful smile from his new friend. Ray loved M &M’s in his coffee so Blair and Jim taken to carrying them around with them. Just in case the need for them arose.

Fraser watched blue eyes wide, stunned by the open and loving relationship Jim and Blair share. Now including Ray. Remembering back to the accident when Jim had frantically checked Blair over to make sure his friend wasn’t hurt once they‘d gotten out of the truck and the water-filled ditch they‘d landed in. Blair had held still patiently allowing the shaking hands to examine him. Then Jim had checked Ray, then Fraser and finally Deif just as carefully. All held very still as he’d done it knowing instinctively that it was something Jim had to do.

Now Fraser watching Blair horse-play with Ray. Saw the kiss they shared. His partner did not seem repulsed by the fact he’d just been kissed by a man. Fraser had always thought Ray was straight. Yet he’s accepted Blair’s kiss so matter a fact, so playfully.

Jim seemed to be no stranger to Blair’s kisses as well. Had so much as said so. Blair had kissed a man such a Jim and Jim had allowed it. Seemed to relish that Blair kissed him all the time. Yet he’d heard Jim and Blair talk of the women they had dated. It would seem that they were bi. As it seemed so was his partner-that in itself was quite a revelation. And he, where did Benton Fraser fit in all this? Did he even fit in all this?

So lost in thought he never noticed the wide, expressive blue eyes watching him thoughtfully.

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

Blair and Ray had easily found clothing to change into. They’d had to tighten their belts quite a bit. Jim and Fraser had to settle for wearing bathrobe’s while their clothes dried. There just wasn’t enough clothing to go around.

Blair now lay on the floor by the fireplace reading a book he’d found on one of the bookshelves on American Indians of the Southwest. Head resting comfortably on Deif’s massive white shoulder. The wolf now feed and dried carefully by Blair who’d seen to Deif’s care since he’d come into their lives. Deif did not seem to find it the least bit offensive being used as a pillow. Blair’s curly-hair spread all over him like a dark blanket.

“Blair.” Ray called softly. He’d been checking out the music system in the cabin. Finding something suitable it now echoed through the cabin.

“What?” Blair said distractedly, turning the page of his book.

“Blair.” Ray called again.

“What?” He said yet again. Finally looking over to where Ray stood waiting.

The blond offered his hand. “Dance with me?”

Blair looked at his curiously for a moment before laying his book down and rising. “Okay.”

For the next forty minutes the cabin the cabin was filled with the sounds of music and the sight of Blair and Ray happily dancing around it.

Ray twirled Blair around. “Hey, you dance better than you kiss.”

Blair’s face shone pinkly from the exertion. “Naomi likes to dance. A lot.”

“You’re better than my ex-wife.”

“Is that good?”

“Yup, we won a couple of awards.” Ray replied, pulling Blair close and twirling him away.

“Cool.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Sometime. I went alittle crazy there for awhile, but I’m better. Expecially times like now.” Ray told him blue eyes twinkling happily. “With great new friends like you and Jim.”

“I’m glad. I just wish…”

Ray pulled Blair to him for a slow dance. “What?”

“I just wish you and Ben could stay.” Blair said wistfully.

“What in Cascade?”

“Yeah. But I know you can’t.” Blair said, burying his head against the blond’s neck.

“I wouldn’t mind, Blair.”

Blair looked up. “Really?”

Ray smiled. “Really. I got nothing in Chicago. My parents are in Arizona with my brother and their grandkids. I got an empty apartment, a turtle and Fraser. That’s it.”

“Yeah, but Fraser more than makes up for everything else.”

“Yeah, he does. But there are time where Fraser seems so lost and lonely and I don’t know what to do about it. I’m afraid he’ll push me away if I try and then all I’ll have is and empty apartment, a turtle and no Fraser.”

“Losing Fraser would scare me, too.”

“Yeah, so I settle for what I can get.” Ray sighed softly. “Even if I want more.”

Blair turned to look at the Mountie who was quietly watching them dance. Blair smiled at him. The smile was returned shyly, pale cheeks darkening in the ever ready blush. “Ray, do you trust me?”

“Huh?”

“Do you trust me with Ben?”

“What do you mean?”

Blair pulled Ray closer. “I think he wants more than he’s letting on, but he’s afraid.”

“Think so?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen the look in his eyes. He wants the closeness, the touching, the kisses.”

Ray snickered into the side of Blair’s neck. “Even yours?”

“Funny ha-ha. Yeah, even mine. Do you trust me not to break him?” Blair asked.

“Course I do, Blair.”

“You’ll let me touch him without killing me?”

“Yeah, if that’s what he wants.”

“Thing is-that may not be what he thinks he wants at least not at first.”

“Gonna defrost him first then?”

“Yup.” Blair replied, looking over at the Mountie from beneath his lashes. Smiling inwardly when he saw Fraser nervously stroke his eyebrow. Fleeting wondering how Ben keep from rubbing all the hair off that poor eyebrow, he rubbed it so much.

“What about Jim?”

Blair tightened his arms around the swaying blond. “Jim loves me.”

“He’s gonna let you do what you’ve got planned?”

“Yes.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because Jim loves me and he’s happy with whatever makes me happy.” Blair said softly.

“Yeah, but your talking about seducing another man, an emotional half-frozen one at that.”

“My relationship with Jim has always been based on trust, from the very first. And despite what he says I don’t go with just anyone. I never have. I want Ben and I want you. In my life anyway I can have you. I’ve already talked to Jim about this. When I knew what I wanted and wished for even if it seemed kind of impossible at the time.”

“You have?” Ray said, stunned.

“Yup and he understands. He wants what I want.”

“Big macho Jim wants Fraser and me?” The blond just about squeaked.

“Oh, yeah. What’s not to want?”

“But I thought Jim was straight.”

“Bi. Like me.”

“I was married for the longest time and was always faithful, but I knew I could be drawn to guys.” Ray admitted. “Even though I never did anything about it.”

“Me and Jim?” Blair asked hopefully.

“You and Jim.” Ray agreed with a tiny smile.

“Cool. Now all we gotta do is convince Fraser.”

“I don’t think it’ll take to much convincing. Especially where you’re concerned. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I don’t think he’s ever met anyone quite like you.” Ray said chuckling softy.

Blair joined in. “Neither had Jim when we first met. You should have seen him. Shoved me up against a wall and called me a neo hippie witchdoctor punk or something there abouts.”

“Yeah?”

“Hmm. But he likes me now.” Blair said with some satisfaction.

“Yeah, he does. Do you think Fraser could ever like me the way Jim does you?” Ray said so wistfully it hurt Blair to hear.

He tightened his arms around his new friend as they continued to sway together. Not even really dancing to the music anymore. “He likes you, Ray. I’d even venture to say he loves you. He just doesn’t know how to say or show it.”

Ray sighed sadly. “His dad, grandma and grandpa really messed him up. If I could I reached out to wherever they ended up and kick them in the head I would, for what they’ve done to him. He needs love, to be touched, held and he has no idea how to go about getting or asking for what he needs.”

“We can help him, Ray. You, Jim and me.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, but you got to be sure that’s what you want. Once we start there’s no going back. Look at me, Ray. I don’t think I’m going to be able to give either one of you up. I want you guys a lot.”

Ray looked into the Blair’s somber blue eyes. “We’ll think of something, Blair. We can work it out. Even if Fraser and I have to fly out here or you fly out to Chicago every couple of weeks. We’ll think of something, I swear it.”

Blair rested his forehead against Ray’s. “You sure this is what you want?”

“Yes.”

The curly-haired man gave him a brillant smile. “Okay. Wanna watch me thaw out a emotionally frozen Mountie?”

Ray nodded. “More than anything.”

Blair turned toward the Mountie who had not stopped watching them. “Ben?”

“Y…yes, Blair?”

“Ray says I suck at kissing.” Blair said mournfully.

“R…really?”

Blair walked slowly over toward where Fraser sat at the kitchen table. “Hmm, hmm. And Jim practically admitted it. Didn’t you, Jim?”

Jim looked up from the magazine he was reading as he sat on the couch near the fireplace. “Yup.” He replied, knowing what Blair was doing. There really wasn’t any doubt the Fraser would fall under Blair‘s seduction. What was in question was how fast.

Jim smiled as Fraser visibly gulp as Blair slowly walked over toward him. He put down his magazine. It was no competition for what was happening right here in the cabin on a snowy night, the day before Christmas Eve.

“Do you think he can do it?” Ray whispered, sitting next to Jim on the couch.

“Oh, yeah. And Fraser will never be the same again.” Jim whispered back, eyes on the unfolding drama. Yup-the Mountie would never be the same. “None of us will.”

Ray looked over at Jim. “Are you okay with that?”

Jim smiled. “More than.”

The blond detective returned the smile. “Greatness.”

“Yup, they’re telling me I suck at kissing.” Blair said softly, straddling Fraser’s lap. “Maybe you can settle the whole matter for me. Please?”

Fraser pulled at the collar of his robe uncomfortably. “H…how?”

Blair eyed Fraser mouth. “Kiss me.”

“B…Blair.” Fraser said, shocked.

“Kiss me, Ben.” Blair urged seductively.

“I…I can’t.”

“Why not.” Blair asked, licking the side of Fraser’s mouth.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Well, if you don’t know why you can’t, then there’s no reason why you shouldn’t, now is there?” Blair settled himself closer against the shivering Mountie. “Kiss me.”

Fraser looked over Blair’s shoulder at the Sentinel. “Jim?”

Jim shook his head. “I’m sorry, buddy. You’re on your own.”

“Ray?” Fraser’s voice held a plaintive note.

“Sorry, Frase. You have to learn how to deal with affection and love when it’s willing offered. Take it. You won’t get another chance like this again. None of us will.”

“I…I don’t know how.” Fraser whispered heartbreakingly.

“It’s easy, Ben. Open your mouth.” Blair urged.

Fraser eyed Blair’s sensual lips. “I…I.”

“Don’t be afraid, Ben. I won’t hurt you. It’s just a kiss.”

Warm, moist air brushed over Fraser’s face and he moaned. “I…I’m afraid.”

“Don’t be. I won’t hurt you. None of us here will. You need to stop being afraid of what you need. Reach out and take it, Ben.”

“I…I.”

Blair gently placed his lips over Fraser’s. Noticing the trembling had increasing substantially. He gently licked at the lips under his, coaxingly. Waiting for Ben to decide what he wanted to do.

Slowly, ever so slowly the mouth opened to allow Blair in. The curly-haired man sighed happily as his tongue entered to play with Ben’s. After a long moment he pulled away.

“See, that wasn’t so bad. Now was it?”

“N..no. Blair?”

“Yes, Ben.”

“Might I have another?” The Mountie asked, hesitantly.

“Oh, yeah.”

They kissed for along time. Slowly, passionately. It grew in intensity as Fraser became more confident and less afraid. Opened mouthed and hungry they made love to one another with their lips.

Fraser was the first to pull away. An unsteady hand reaching up to touch his swollen lips. “Blair?”

The curly-haired man looked up from nuzzling Fraser’s neck. “Yes, Ben?”

“I…I think you kiss very well.”

Blair gave him a brillant smile. “Why thank you, Ben.”

Fraser returned it shakily. “You’re very welcome. Can I have some more kisses, please.”

“As many as you like, Ben. Whenever you like. Do you want kisses from Jim and Ray as well.”

“N…not yet.” Fraser looked over to where Ray and Jim sat watching. “I…I’m not ready. I’m sorry.” He said sadly.

“Don’t worry about it, Fraser,” Jim replied. “When you’re ready.”

“Ray?” Fraser’s eyes met those of his partner’s pleading for understanding.

The blond nodded. “No worries, Fraze. When you’re ready.” Ray agreed with Jim.

“I want this, truly I do.” Fraser confirmed what they all already knew.

Blair kissed the Fraser’s forehead. “With all of us?”

“Y…yes. I…I shouldn’t, but I do.”

“Why shouldn’t you?” Blair asked, looking curiously into Fraser’s trouble blue eyes. “Do you think it’s wrong?”

“N…no.” Fraser gave another shaky smile. “I think perhaps it might be an embarrassment of riches.”

Blair cupping Fraser’s face in gentle hands. “Don’t you think you might deserved to have some riches, Ben? In the form of love from one gorgous man-the one sitting in your lap by the way and two so-so looking ones?”

The two so-so men on the couch protested loudly. Making Fraser laugh. “Do I say yes?”

Blair nodded. “You say yes, Ben.”

“I may not be able to move to the next level for a while, Blair.”

“Not to worry, Ben. When you’re ready to have a physical relationship with us, we’ll be ready.” Blair promised. “We can keep it to kisses and hugs for now.”

Fraser kissed the lips inches from his. “Thank-you, Blair”

“No problem, my friend.”

He looked over at two men still sitting on the couch. “Thank you, Ray, Jim.”

“No problem, buddy.” Jim answered for both of them.

They all watched in alarm as Fraser’s beautiful blue eyes filled with tears. “I never in my wildest dreams expected to have a gift such as this given to someone like me.”

Blair licked the tears. “What does that mean, Ben? You’re beautiful, smart, compassionate, loving. If anyone deserved love it would be you. How long have you been lonely all the way to your soul, Ben?”

“A…all m…my l…life.” Fraser replied, breath hitching.

“We can change that. All of us. You will never be lonely again. You’ll have all three of us to love and take care of you. All you’ve got to do is reach out and take it. It’s all yours.”

“And I am to take care of Ray, Jim and you.” Fraser whispered softly.

Blair nodded. “Yes, Ben.”

Fraser reached out a trembling hand to touch Blair’s face. “Why are you so smart? Smarter than anyone I’ve ever met. You see to people’s souls. How is that possible?”

Blair moved his face into the trembling carress. “I met a Shaman not long ago. He passed his powers on to me. I’ll tell you about it one day.”

“Alright.” Fraser nodded slowly. Blue eyes looked tiredly into Blair’s. Overwhelmed by the emotional upheaval he’d undergone.

“Want to go to bed?” Blair asked quietly.

“I…I.”

“Just to sleep.” Blair promised him with a small smile. “Maybe some hugs and kisses, but no more than that, until you’re ready.”

“Alright.”

Blair got off Fraser’s lap. Offering his hand to the emotionally exhausted Mountie. “Come.” On the way to the bedroom he gathered Jim and Ray.

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

Morning found Blair on top of Fraser sharing lazy kisses. Ray moving sensually on top of Jim doing the same. Before Blair murmured Jim’s name causing the blond detective to move over slighty as the curly-headed man met his Sentinel’s lips hungrily before gently, leading him toward Fraser.

Fraser held still for the barely there touch of Jim’s lips. Unsure of what to do.

“Open your mouth, Ben. Let Jim in. He won’t hurt you. None of us will.”

Fraser did as Blair gently urged. Making soft sounds of distress as Jim’s tongue touched his. When Jim’s hands tangled in his hair, the sounds of distress increased.

“Easy, Ben, easy. Go with it. Kiss Jim back. He kisses really well. Let him kiss you.” Blair urged quietly.

Fraser closed his eyes tightly, opening his mouth wide. Jim cupped his face and went after him hungrily almost overwhelming Fraser with his need. Blair wasn’t the only one that wanted the handsome Mountie.

Fraser opened his eyes slowly when the kiss ended. “Good, huh?” Blair said smiling at him.

He nodded slowly. “Y…yes.”

“A kiss from Ray now?”

Fraser nodded again. Unable to speak. Feeling as his heart would burst out of his chest. He had to do this he had to. Eyes wide and fearful he looked at his blond partner. “Ray?”

“I won’t hurt you, Frase. And it’s only a kiss. Just a kiss.”

Fraser shook his head. “It’s not just a kiss. Never just a kiss from any of you.”

Ray moved over to lay his mouth over Fraser’s. Just a gentle touching of lips. “No, not just a kiss.” He agreed softly when he pulled away. “You don’t have to be afraid of being loved anymore, Frase.”

“I…I.”

Ray touched Fraser’s lips with two fingers. “Shh, you don’t have to say anything.”

Fraser kissed Ray’s finger tenderly. “I’m sorry, Ray.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’ve been starved for love for so long and now that it’s at your fingertips, you don’t know what to do or what to say. I understand that, Frase. We all do.”

Fraser gentle caressed Ray’s hair. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“What-that I knew?”

Fraser nodded. “Yes.”

Ray shrugged. “I don’t know. Was afraid, I think. Afraid that I’d lose you completely if I asked for more.”

“But not now?”

“No, not now. Blair had a lot to do with that.” Ray smiled slightly. “I just followed his lead.”

They both turned to find Blair on top of Jim and they were kissing passionately. Jim’s finger’s tangled in Blair’s curly hair.

“Do you think we’ll ever be like them?” Fraser asked wistfully.

“Hot and heavy?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, I think so and if we play our cards right we can have them too.”

“Ray.” Fraser said shocked.

“What, don’t you want them? I know I do. And Blair really likes you.”

“I like him too.” Fraser said shyly.

“And Jim?”

“And Jim. He has the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen. They can be cold and fierce yet they can hold such warmth and gentleness. And an understanding of the world that I fear none of us will ever have.”

“Hey, you two over there you’re suppose to be kissing not whispering.” Blair told them smiling.

“Yeah, well not all of us are hornballs like you and Jim.” Ray replied returning the smile.

“Hey, who you calling a hornball.” Jim growled. Not in the least bit intimidated Ray reached over and kissed him. “Oh, if I get more of those you can call me whatever you like.” He replied, when they broke apart.

“Yeah, thought you’d see it my way.” Ray replied smugly.

“Hmm, okay. Let’s get up now. I’m hungry and we need to see if the turkey’s defrosted enough to start cooking.” Jim said, tugging at Blair.

“Does that mean you want me to do the cooking.” Blair said rising from the bed reluctantly.

“Just breakfast come on. I’m hungry.”

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

The day past quickly. The turkey going into the oven a little after twelve. All four men grateful that the electricity had not gone out as they watched the snow swirling furiously around the cabin.

“Burr, I’m glad we didn’t get caught in that.” Blair said, shivering.

“I hear that. Hey, did you finish the stuffing?” Jim asked, peeling carrots.

“Yeah. It’s in the refrigerator all ready to go into the oven.”

“Great. How’s dessert coming, Fraser?”

“Almost done, Jim. Plum pudding with rum sauce coming up.”

“You’re one talented Mountie there Fraser.”

Fraser smiled at him shyly. “All it takes is the proper preparation, Jim.”

Jim returned the smile before looking toward the blond detective sitting comfortable in front of the fire with Deif. “And you, Ray? What have you contributed to this meal?” He said in annoyance.

“I’m keeping Deif from running off with the food.” Deif made an offended sound. “You don’t want him to disappear into the bedroom with the turkey do you?”

“Huh huh, you my blond friend are going to get to do the clean up for you evil, lazy ways. And then blaming an innocent wolf for it too. Shame. For shame.” Jim told him sternly.

Deif seemed to agree as he got off the couch and went to stand by Blair at the window. The curly-haired man looked down. “”It’s okay, Deif. Don’t get hurt feelings. We all know you won’t run off with the turkey. You’re part of the family and you get a plate of everything we’re eating, too. You know that right?”

Deif barked, turning to give the blond detective on the couch an annoyed look before looking up at Blair with adoring eyes.

“It sure looks cold out there.” Blair said softly. Looking out into the snow-covered landscape. “I’m sorry you gotta go out there to use the restroom.”

“Don’t be, Blair. He’s a wolf.” Fraser told him from the kitchen. “Wolves are use to that.”

“A wolf he may be, but he’s a special wolf. He’s an ultra-cool, civilized wolf. Aren’t you, Deif?”

The white wolf’s only response was to rub his head lovingly against Blair’s leg. The curly-haired man went to his knees to stroke the Deif’s soft white fur.

“I’m going to miss you something fierce when you go back to Chicago, Deif.” Blair whispered. “I wish you could stay.”

In the two weeks that they’d know each other the white wolf and Blair had bonded the curly-haired man thought it might have to do with his spirit animal being a wolf. But it didn’t really matter all that matter was that Deif loved him and Blair returned it happily. Deif whined softly, nudging Blair with his nose.

The curly-haired man buried is face in the wolf’s fur. “But I know you can’t.” He said heartbrokenly.

“Can’t what?” Fraser asked. kneeling by the two of them. Wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.

Startled Blair looked up, blue eyes filled with tears. “Ben, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry, Blair. I never meant to scare you.” Fraser said contritely.

“No, no it’s not your fault. I was just lost in thought.” Blair told him, reaching out to stroke Fraser’s cheek. Smiling when the Mountie moved his face into it. It seemed he was slowly starting to defrost.

“About what, Blair?”

Blair met the waiting blue eyes. “Wishful thinking on my part, Ben. Just some wishful thinking.”

“Will you tell me?”

Blair looked over to where Jim watched. Seeing his Sentinel nod of encouragement “I…I just…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. First time in his life he was tongue-tied.

“What? What is it, Blair?”

Blair tangled his fingers in Deif’s soft fur. “We’ve know each other-what two weeks haven’t we, Ben?”

“Yes.”

“I feel as if I’ve known Ray and you all my life. I…”

“What are you trying to say, Blair?” Fraser encouraged.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“Why do you think you’ll lose us?” Fraser asked softly.

“You’ll have to go back soon. I’m kinda hoping that the snow never stops falling so that we can be together for alittle while longer.”

“That’s being a bit unreasonable don’t you think, Blair?” Blair made a small sound of pain. Earning Fraser a warning growl from Jim. “I mean that the snow will eventually stop, it has to. Blair look at me. What is it that you want?”

“Iwantustobetogether.” Blair whispered.

“Together?”

Blair nodded. “Yes. Jim, Ray, you and me.”

“Do you mean living together? All of us?”

“Yes.”

“Blair.”

The curly-haired man ran a finger over Fraser’s lower lip. “Is it to much to ask?”

“N…no.

“Will you think about it?”

“There’s nothing to really think about, Blair.”

Blair’s blue eyes filled with hurt. “Oh.” He said softly, looking away.

“Fraser.” Jim growled, moving closer as did Ray.

“It’s alright, Jim. I would never hurt, Blair. You must let me finish.”

“Alright just remember the warning.”

Fraser looked up at Jim before looking at Ray hesitantly and then turning to Blair. “I remember. Blair, never in my life have I met two people like Jim and you. Never. You are both so giving and loving. Not only to each other, but to whoever is lucky enough to be called your friend. You are offering Ray and I something I think neither of us ever thought to have, not even in our wildest dreams.”

“What are you saying, Ben?” Blair asked.

“I cannot speak for Ray, but as for me and Deif, whom I’m sure will agree, would be most pleased to move to Cascade and be with you and Jim.” The white wolf who’d been leaning against Blair’s leg sat up and woofed.

Fraser smiled. “Deif would be most happy to go to Cascade and he is overjoyed that his pack has grown by two.”

Suddenly four pairs of eyes turned to Ray who’d been quietly watching. “What?”

“We await your answer, Ray.” Fraser told him, rubbing his eyebrow nervously.

“Geez, of course I’m goin’. I’m not about to lose out on the best thing that’s ever happened in my life or actually our lives.” The blond told them in exasperation. Earning a brilliant smile from the Mountie.

“Oh, Ray.”

Ray cleared his throat. “Now don’t go getting all mushy now, Frase. Okay? I just don’t want to break up this new pack of Deif’s. I’m cool with it. Actually, I think it pure greatness.” He said smiling happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Alright, Ray.” Fraser replied softly. “Then as soon as we can leave this cabin we will begin making arrangements. Right, Ray?”

“Yup. I’ll put in of a transfer and start packing up my apartment.”

“And I will turn in my resignation and gather my belongings from the Consulate.”

“But I thought you liked being a Mountie, Ben.” Blair asked worriedly.

“Yes, but I have found something infinitely more precious.” Fraser replied, pulling the curly-haired man into his arms.

“Ray and Fraser don’t have to be the one’s moving. It doesn’t even have to be Cascade.” Jim said sitting on the floor next to Fraser and Blair. “We can always relocate to Chicago or even Canada.”

“Yeah, we could.” Blair agreed. “Jim, how long till dinner?” He asked from the warmth of Fraser’s arms.

“Another couple of hours.”

“Cool.” He got up from the floor pulling Fraser with him. “The floor’s cold. Let’s go over by the fire. Jim will you come, too? Ray?” He gazed at the three watching his expectantly. “If we’re going to live together there will be no secrets between us. There’s a story Jim and I need to tell you about Sentinels and Guides.”

END

SCIENCE FICTION

Star Trek TOS - Kirk/Spock

Title: On a Frosty Eve
Author: Lyrastar
Series: Star Trek:TOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: PG for violence
Warning: None. Really.
Beta: Thanks to Dina, Farfalla and Hypatia for their ever helpful advice.
Contact: Lyrastarwatcher at yahoo dot com or www.geocities.com/lyrastarwatcher
Disclaimer: Kirk, Spock, the Enterprise, phasers and Klingons all belong to Paramount.
Summary: Kirk and Spock: the energy is unmistakable. For the slash advent calendar at http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm

ON A FROSTY EVE

"Bam, bam bam!" Klingons dropped like Arcturian zingerflies under Spock's phaser blasts, landing in layers on top of the small rise in front of the fort.

"Bam, bam, bam!" Kirk fired into the trees. More Klingons fell from the branches, silent screams dying on their lips as they were vaporized into pure nothingness in the frigid air. By rights, the snow of this world should be dyed pink with so much alien blood, but it remained white and pure.

In an eerie way, that almost seemed worse.

They had known it would be winter here, but hadn't expected the temperature to drop so fast. Their standard uniforms were ill-suited to the conditions, but right now that was the least of their problems. The massive Klingon ground assault had caught them entirely by surprise.

"Captain!" Spock's voice rose in audible alarm. He stared down at his phaser, noting it to glow redder and redder by the second. With a powerful swing of his shoulder, he hurled the phaser over the top of the fort and toward the Klingons on the hill.

"Quickly, Captain! They've transmitted an overload signal to our phasers."

Kirk squeezed out two more shots before heaving his phaser into the trees. The fort was rocked by a violent shudder. Spock threw himself over his captain, forcing them both face-down into the ground. A flurry of snowy crystals cascaded over them. Spock wrapped his arms more tightly around Jim's head and chest, and hunched his own back against the onslaught.

With Spock's weight pressing into his chest, Kirk turned his head to the side and gasped for breath. Each lungful burned his chest anew. Where he lay, the chill burned into his cheek and snow had pushed under his shirt cuffs and hem. All he could see was the powder blue or blackness of Spock's arm pressed securely up against his eyes. As Spock's breath curled around him, snow and ice melted and pooled cold, pasting his collar unpleasantly against his neck. He counted the seconds until it would be over. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. Twenty-four.

When the rumbling ceased, Spock rose. Jim hopped to his feet right after. Spock peered over the top of the fort. "The explosion will not deter them for long."

"And we're defenseless here." Kirk finished his thought. "We've got to get to the munitions dump." He gestured to the right in the general direction that they had seen it lie. "Cover me."

Peeking over the top of the wall, Kirk jumped up and sprinted from the fort. He zigzagged to the right, making for the downhill trail to the stockpile, while Spock threw snowballs wildly into the distance.

Kirk rolled down the hill and steered himself into the weapons cache. He shouted back up to the fort, "Spock, I made it! Now you!" He picked up an ion cannon and aimed it over the hill. "Breeng, breeng, breeng! I've got you covered, Spock! Now!"

Spock lunged for the hill and rolled down, tumbling over and over through the snow. Dizzy by the time he reached the bottom, he landed in a tangle of gangly arms and legs on top of Jim.

"Careful," said Jim, picking themselves apart. "I almost hit you with my ion cannon. That would've been a mess. Can you reach the ship yet?"

Spock tried his communicator again. It stayed silent. "Negative, Captain. The solar storm is still causing too much interference. We seem to be on our own."

"We'll just have to hold out, then. Can you make a shield of some sort from the supplies here?"

"I'm a science officer, not McGyver," said Spock. "But I should be able to fashion an erganium hypergrater of sorts."

"What will that do?" asked Kirk. "Breeng, breeng, breeng!" Wave after wave of Klingons was wiped out under the spray of his ion cannon.

"It should make a most effective wide range bomb," said Spock.

"How wide range? It won't be any good if it kills us too," said Jim. "Breeng, breeng, breeng!"

"Breeee--" The sound warbled down to a pathetic buzz. Jim tossed the cannon aside and reached for a laser scorpion in its place. "Make it quick. Our ammo won't last forever. The cannon is already dead."

"We can set detonation for far enough away, and deliver the explosive with this." Spock tapped a grenade launcher. "One for the troops on the hill and one for those in the forest should be sufficient."

"Okay." Zap, zap, zap! "Get to it. They just beamed in reinforcements."

"Working, Captain."

Zap, zap, zap, zap! Kirk spun the scorpion around from side to side, effectively holding the Klingons at a harmless distance.

"I have it, Captain," said Spock as he crammed a device into the launcher.

"Aim for the hill," said Kirk as he continued to spray the land with laser shots.

"Fifteen second detonation delay," said Spock. He pointed the launcher up and toward the hill and hit the trigger. He grabbed Kirk and again they pressed themselves, arm around each other's bodies, into the snow.

KAPOW! There was an earthshaking burst, and then the hillside went still.

Kirk turned around. "Beautiful, Spock!" He clapped him on the shoulder. "Good work--now the trees."

Spock reloaded and realigned the launcher. "Fifteen seconds," he said.

"Jim!" Spock's voice was unmitigated terror. He tore frantically at the weapon, fingers straining down the barrel towards the bomb. "The launcher is jammed. Run!"

Without a moment's hesitation, Kirk threw himself over the launcher. He knocked it out of Spock's hands and to the ground and covered it with his stomach. "You run, Spock! Save yourself!"

Spock grabbed his captain by the shoulder and neck-pinched him into unconsciousness. Acting quickly, he rolled Jim away from the device. He grabbed the launcher and slung it over his back. His other hand he placed over Jim's cheek and forehead.

His voice was thick but certain as he spoke. "I have been and always shall be your friend. Remember me."

With the briefest of final glances towards the stillness of Jim's face, Spock made a desperate dash for the woods.

At fourteen point five seconds, by his own invariably correct calculations, Spock heaved the launcher into the forest.

Mercifully, he never felt the blast that blew him into the snow.



***



It was deathly quiet when Kirk picked himself up from the frozen muck. His gold tunic was now a muddy mess. He was soaked to the skin. He stared around the munitions dump as if to try to collect his thoughts. There had been so many Klingons. He and Spock...

Spock! Heedless of any danger, he ran out into the field. The bright blue and black of Spock's uniform lay sprawled in the snow in a heartbreakingly improbable position. "Spock!"

Kirk ran to his side and cradled the dark head in his lap. It rolled limply to the side, hoary crust sticking on the hair and brows.

He couldn't feel any breath.

"Spock, oh, Spock. How could you? Don't you know I would rather have died than you? Spock, please, you can't be dead! I can't do this without you; we're a team! Please, Spock. You can't be dead."

Jim hung his head over the dear gray face and waited. He brushed some wayward strands of black hair away from the forehead, but still nothing happened. The temperature had dropped still further. Winter wind bit through his shirt and he could feel the frost settling into his scalp and skin. Still he waited, but the only sound beside his own rough breathing was the twittering of a pair of cardinals in the trees.



***


A woman stepped out on to her back porch just in time to see the two curled up and holding each other. She watched her son with his friend's head in his lap--watched him brush the hair away so tenderly and a nervous mother's premonition ran through her gut.

He was so young--still her baby. Did he really have to grow up so soon?

Maybe not. She took a deep breath and called to them. "Josh! Robbie! Come on in, kids. It's time to light the menorah."

Kirk raised his head. Spock sat up and looked around. It was already getting dark.

Ooops.

Ten minutes playing with their toys they had told their folks--and that was a whole legion of Klingons ago. Josh didn't remember anything about asking permission to go outside.

They were so busted.

"Robbie, Josh!" she called again.

Josh scrambled to his feet and turned to the house where his mother stood on the back porch in with a coat drawn around her shoulders against the cold. From the look on her face, Josh guessed he just might be in trouble.

Well, he sure was a mess. His uniform shirt was barely recognizable as gold anymore. It had been one of the most expensive costumes in Wal-Mart, and he had promised he would take care of it. It was barely six weeks now since Halloween and look.

Robbie rolled up and brushed the worst of the snow off of his Spock costume. He went to hunt for the phasers. They had cost extra and he was going to be so dead if he had lost them already.

"Coming, Mom; I'm sorry. We were playing, and I kinda forgot to be careful."

"Josh."

Josh waited. He couldn't quite figure out the peculiar expression on her face.

His mother stared a moment longer. "What's the leaf blower doing out?" she asked. It didn't really sound like that was what she meant. She was still looking at him. At him, and at Robbie as he bent to search for the phasers.

"We were just playing. I'm sorry. I'll get it." Josh ran to collect his dad's leaf blower from where Robbie had chucked it near the woods. He stowed it back in the tool shed. He'd come back later and straighten up the rest.

"Kids, where are you?" A man's voice now.

"I found them, Eddie. They're in the back yard."

Robbie's dad came out on the porch behind her. "Hurry up, kids. Everyone's waiting."

Josh climbed up on the porch. Robbie's dad laughed. "You're a mess. What've you two been doing?"

"Just playing Star Trek," said Josh.

"So I see, 'Captain.'" Robbie's dad ruffled his hair.

"Come on." Josh's mom led him across the porch toward the house. "You need to clean up and change. And I think it would be best if you didn't see quite so much of Robbie."

"Why not, Mom? We weren't hurting anything. We were just playing. I thought you liked Star Trek? I'm sorry I got dirty, but I'll put away all the stuff tomorrow. Or tonight if you want."

She gave him one of those grown-up looks that always meant he was not going to like or understand whatever was coming next.

"I do like Star Trek--very much--and it's not that. I just think you should--broaden your friendships a little.

"Take off those shoes before you come in." She waited for him at the door.

"Robbie's my best friend. I don't need anything broader," said Josh. His young voice quaked with frustration. Obediently he kicked out of his shoes.

"I know, and he's a nice boy. You just need to spread yourself out more."

"But I don't want to! I like Robbie. We have the most fun together, and we weren't doing anything wrong. I don't see what the big deal is." Josh stepped over the door casement in his socks.

His mom banged the worst of the muck off of his shoes and left the pair sitting on the outside mat. "I know. I'm just trying to make things easier for you. Trust me. I was your age once; there are things you don't see yet. The world can be so hard sometimes."

"There's nothing hard about it," said Josh, frustration rising in his voice. "We were just playing Star Trek! Why are you making such a big deal out of it?"

Robbie's dad looked over at the outburst.

The parents exchanged another one of those grownup looks.

"We'll talk about this later," said his mom, closing the outer glass door behind them. "Now you and Robbie both go wash up and change. Everyone's waiting and Mr. Schwartz says you two are really going to like tonight's presents. Here, take off that shirt before you go."

Josh pulled the command tunic over his head. He wondered what the present would be. Maybe the set of Klingon masks they had asked for last month? As he turned to pass the shirt to his mother, he saw Robbie and his dad walking across the porch. Robbie's dad had an arm around his shoulders and was saying something, but Robbie wasn't paying much attention. He was watching Josh through the glass. Between the heat inside and the cold outside, it was rapidly beginning to cloud over.

The kids' eyes met through the haze. Grown-ups could be so weird. Why couldn't they just relax and have a little fun?

Things would be so much better when kids got their chance to run the world.



~Lyra
with wishes for a Happy Chanukah to all who care to accept them.

SCIENCE FICTION

Stargate: SG-1 - Jack/Daniel

Title: Christmas Come Early
Author: Hathor
Show: Stargate: SG-1
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Feedback: ladyraistlin@hotmail.com
Status: Complete
Rating: PG-13
Category: First Time, PWP
Warning: None
Spoilers: None
Date: 08 December 2004
Archive: Written as part of the Slash Advent Calendar 2004. This story is embargoed for other archives until December 30th 2004 – please ask permission first.
Author Website: http://www.squidge.org/~hathor/
Disclaimer: Sadly these characters are not mine, but Daniel haunts my dreams.
Author's Notes: Christmas drabble. Yup - that around about sums it up :)
Summary: An O’Neill tradition leads to some nooky.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Christmas Come Early ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“To the left a little…” Daniel shifted accordingly and looked back over his shoulder at his best friend.

“You’re sure about this, Jack?”

“Trust me, Daniel.”

The archaeologist gave a soft snort of derision. “I’m just saying that it doesn’t feel right.”

“Up a bit.” Jack paused and surveyed the scene in front of him. “I don’t care what it feels like, it looks great just there.”

With a sigh of relief at the prospect of finally resting his aching arms, Daniel secured the star ornament on the top of the tree. He started to climb down off the wooden stool, shaking his arms to remove the numbness that had built up. However, the action put him off balance and he ended up stumbling heavily into Jack. One of Jack’s hands curled around Daniel’s bicep, the other around his waist, to steady him.

“Careful there, book boy,” he said in a soft, teasing tone.

Daniel looked over his glasses at his friend and then smiled in apology. “Thanks.”

Jack’s gaze involuntarily flickered down to Daniel’s lips. Not for the first time, he imagined what they would taste like. How good it would feel to crush Daniel’s hard body up against his own. They were standing so close. Jack would only have to lean forward to close the gap between them.

Suddenly he was startled out of his reverie. There was a weight on his neck and then soft warm lips were covering his own. Moving tentatively, they tasted and caressed Jack. When no protest was heard, the kiss became more confident. Deft and skilled, just like Daniel himself. Through the haze, Jack’s only coherent thought was that perhaps finally the cosmos had been kind and had granted him his only Christmas wish.

With that sentiment in mind, Jack pulled Daniel towards him, opening their kiss up passionately. Daniel’s tongue curled and stroked Jack’s own, imbuing his mouth with the soft taste of Colombian beans mixed with quintessential Daniel Jackson. Jack’s stubbled skin grazed across Daniel’s as he stole a breath and changed the angle of their kiss, deepening it once more. Daniel’s strong hand gripped Jack’s neck, holding him in place as the other wandered further south to pull Jack’s pelvis against his own.

The sensation caused both men to groan and to finally part before they reached the rapidly approaching point of no return. Daniel gave Jack a filthy grin, taking in dazed expression on his friend’s face.

After a few long moments of struggling to get both his breath and wits back, Jack finally asked “Why?”

Daniel looked up at him through lowered eyelashes. “You were taking too long,” he replied in a low voice.

Jack raised an eyebrow, before another thought crossed his mind. “How…?”

Daniel smirked softly at the monosyllabic questions. “Did I know?” he guessed. At Jack’s nod, he just shrugged, a smile still playing at his lips. “An educated deduction from an experienced anthropologist.”

Jack grinned at him before reluctantly letting him go, both of them content with the explanation for now. Aware that they couldn’t spend the rest of the day staring at each other, however tempting that was, Jack nodded in the direction of the tree.

The two men stepped back and admired their handy work of the past couple of hours. Jack had invited Daniel over this Christmas Eve to take part in the O’Neill tradition of decorating the Christmas Tree with family or close friends.

“Ready?”

Daniel nodded and Jack strode forward and hit the tree light switch. Soft white lights blinked on, gently illuminating the corner of the room. They stared at it for a moment before Jack broke the silence.

“Another beer?”

~*~

A short time later, the pair were settled down on Jack’s couch, Thai takeaway boxes strewn over the table and on the floor. Daniel sighed contentedly, flexing his bare toes over the edge of the table in front of him.

He felt one of Jack’s hands curl around his shoulder, while the other reached for the TV remote.

“You ok, Danny?” he asked quietly.

Daniel gave him a heartfelt smile and nodded, reaching one hand up to lace fingers with Jack’s.

Jack turned his attention back to the hockey game.

“Sweet,” he whispered to no-one in particular.

~*~

The End

FANTASY

Highlander - Duncan/Methos

By Ev vy

Author: Ev Vy
Title: Cutting Both Ways
Date: December 10
Fandom: Highlander
Pairing: Duncan/Methos
Rating: PG
Feedback address: mailto:ev_vy@interia.pl 
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm

Cutting Both Ways

Duncan doesn't even have to break into Methos's apartment, so he almost regrets his decision to come here. The door is unlocked, and he expects Methos to be long gone and the apartment stale with emptiness. But it's not empty, it's simply bare. A few necessities, like a thick wide mattress on the floor, a small table, Methos's favourite long-backed chair, a fridge and a portable cooker. A couple of boxes with books.

There's a notebook lying open on the table and Duncan hesitantly takes a look. The language is unfamiliar, but a vague sketch of a young girl's face, surrounded by words, attracts his attention. He regards it closely; a barely touched outline of her face surrounds sharply drawn features. Almost angrily even, because the pen tore through paper.

Duncan's body resonates with the signature of another Immortal. He acts on instinct and turning towards the door he draws his katana.

Methos has a gun in his hand and he quickly hides it in the folds of his quite unfashionable overcoat. With black hair and a few days old stubble he looks like someone who'd be more likely to live in a shelter for the homeless than at an expensive location like this one.

Methos flicks on the light and takes in the whole interior. His gaze lingers on the table and then rests at Duncan. "She's my daughter," Methos says, his tone flat.

"Who?" Duncan blinks, lowering the blade of his katana to an acute angle with the floor.

"The girl in the drawing." Methos answers. He doesn't move away from the door. Duncan sheaths his sword, but Methos keeps his distance.

"What girl?"

"My daughter," Methos explains patiently. "Well, not exactly mine, although she liked to think that."

"That girl in the drawing. I see. How old is she now?" Duncan asks.

Methos shrugs and says non-committally, "She's twenty-something and she works in Paris now."

"She never knew the truth about you?" Duncan tries to see if there is something behind the blank surface of Methos's face.

Methos's lips stretch in an unpleasant smile. "There was no need. Her mother's lover died when she was ten. Or maybe eleven."

Pieces fall into place. "I'm guessing she saw you in Paris."

"Yes. Adam Pierson died in a train crash a few days later. His friend, Joe Dawson was devastated, yet managed to make all arrangements for the funeral."

"Why are you still here then?"

Methos tilts his head, quite unperturbed by Duncan's question. "Unfinished business," he answers.

"Yes, it can keep you around sometimes," Duncan hopes Methos doesn't hear the faint bitterness of the statement. If Methos does, he doesn't show it. He sheds his coat, the mattress getting the brunt of the weight of his armour. Then he goes to the makeshift kitchen area and puts on a kettle.

"Coffee, tea?" Methos asks as he rummages through boxes on the windowsill. "Wait, no tea. Coffee only."

"Coffee will be fine," Duncan answers.

"I'd offer you something stronger, but I'm out of life-saving supplies. Cold, isn't it?"

"Not so unlike Paris this time of year. I saw your gravestone, by the way." Next to one Alexa Bond, both names carved in stone.

People visiting the cemetery will think what a tragedy it must have been for those two people to have died so young. At such a short interval of time. Seems like a mockery, because the man from the empty grave is here now, talking to Duncan.

"Very tasteful, don't you think? I must say I appreciate that Joe picked that particular spot," Methos says and Duncan isn't sure what Methos really wants to say. If it really matters to Methos, or if it's what Methos wants Joe to think that. It is a cruel thought, because Duncan saw Methos's grief then, but he doesn't feel particularly generous today.

"It must be strange to see your own name on a gravestone."

Methos looks at him with a baffled expression. "One of many, MacLeod. One of many. What's so strange about it?"

"I've never had one."

"And I'll never have one."

Methos hands him a cup of coffee. Duncan takes a sip and burns his tongue on the bitter liquid. He likes his coffee with sugar and Methos never forgot about it before. Before.

"Quite a day you chose for Pierson's death," he says to Methos's back.

"Wasn't my intention, MacLeod." Methos turns to lean against the windowsill, and Duncan remains at the table. Maybe he should move, walk casually up to Methos, and they wouldn't be having this conversation. And maybe Methos notices his hesitation, because he says, "It didn't spoil your Christmas, though."

Duncan shrugs. "I apologised to Joe already."

"You would." Methos looks at him, wrinkles at the corners of his eyes sharp in the light of the naked bulb. "Amy was there."

"You?"

Methos smirks. "No, MacLeod. I was dying. I imagine you were having a good time."

He knows Methos is playing him, laying the blame on him, and he knows it's the way of defence, but it hurts nonetheless. It hurts, although it's true. He had a great time. He didn't mean to stay away for Christmas, but in the end he let himself be convinced that Methos would keep Joe company. That Duncan didn't have to be there, because Methos didn't celebrate any holidays, therefore spending Christmas with Duncan wouldn't differ greatly from any other day they shared.

"I'm sorry, Methos."

"I'm sure you are." There's no indication in Methos's voice that he cares about Duncan's apology.

It's probably already decided then, and there's nothing Duncan can do, because being convincing and presenting good reasons for Methos to stay never worked. But Methos always left on the spur of the moment, never saying good-bye.

"You really are leaving, aren't you? It's too late to try and change anything?" Duncan asks and there's relief in his own voice that he didn't expect. He won't be waiting for Methos any longer. Expecting him to come back. At the same time fearing he won't see Methos ever again. It's easier now, when it's clear that it is their last conversation.

The light etches deeper lines on Methos's face. "I think it's been too late for a long time," Methos says and looks out through the window. "You know, Duncan," he continues. "When I drew that girl, trying to remember, I couldn't. That life was discarded long ago, and there was no point in remembering. Not my life any longer." He shakes his head, and turning to Duncan, he adds, "And this life isn't mine either. It had been the best solution to rest Adam in peace."

"But Methos is still alive." Duncan tries to argue, more for the sake of what was that what can be.

"Methos is just a construct; he's the common denominator. Adam Pierson died and took Methos with him. Long live Methos."

"Then why are you still here? Why not just leave?"

"I'm finishing my business. Winding it up. We need a clean cut, Duncan."

"So. It was never going to last," Duncan says smiling sadly.

"No," Methos acknowledges. "We're not meant to be the second Gina and Robert."

"We could change."

"Not that much. There's no compromise for us. You need stability, and I'm afraid of it. What's more, I don't want it."

"You know that I--" Duncan stops to take a deep breath, but Methos cuts him off. And maybe it's better that it won't be said. Maybe it's better to remember when it mattered.

"I know," Methos says with conviction. "But it's not enough. Neither for me, nor for you. And I've never been a martyr."

"No, you haven't," Duncan admits. "See you around then."

There's an amused expression on Methos's face as he says, "In a couple of decades probably. I can't stay away for too long."

"I wouldn't want you to."

"Take care, Highlander."

Duncan sets the empty cup on the table and leaves, closing the door quietly behind him. It's easier this way. Maybe.

END

BOOKS

Dangerous Liaisons - Vicomte de Valmont/Chevalier Danceny

Author: avis
Title: A Letter to the Dead
Pairing: Vicomte de Valmont/Chevalier Danceny
Rating: R
Fandom: Dangerous Liaisons (the book)
Summary: Danceny reflects of the end of the proceedings and the power of the pen.
Date of publication: 12/10/2004
Disclaimer: I own nothing – especially not these guys.
Feedback address: booleangrape@yahoo.com
Note: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar of 2004 at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm

A LETTER TO THE DEAD

LE CHEVALIER DANCENY AU VICOMTE DE VALMONT
(a letter from Danceny to Valmont)

MONSIEUR,

It was your letters – proof of your perfidy - that led to our confrontation. And it was the letters of Mme de Merteuil that led to her own downfall. Even those of us who knew firsthand of her deeds could never have guessed at the extent of her machinations. Although she was far too clever to have penned those missives in her own hand, they follow too closely what we know to be true to be any other than her own thoughts.

And seeing the power of letters to resolve an issue, I turn to the writing of this letter as a way to try to realize all that has come about in this past year - particularly that which occurred so recently between us.

For the first time, I start a new year with blood on my hands. That it is your blood, so recently shed, makes the writing of this letter seem a particularly futile exercise. Still, I can think of no other who might understand. Although you will never read this, I am hopeful that the writing of it will have some palliative effect.

Why, you might ask (had you not been rendered incapable my own hands) is this letter to you instead of Cecile? Surely she would understand, having been in much the same position as I, seduced by your clever and confusing words. And yet, I can only imagine that her understanding has been fully taxed already in accepting what has occurred between Mme de Merteuil and myself. To add this indiscretion with the initial author (if not the instigator) of her loss of innocence to my list of transgressions against her might be too much.

And so – as a penitent goes to his priest to beg forgiveness I go to you, hoping to reconcile all we have done to each other and find some measure of peace for us both.


When I went that morning to confront you, to seek honor for those whom you have wronged, I went not expecting to return, having no experience in the area of the duel. I made my way in the early morning hoping to arrive with enough time to find calm before we commenced. Imagine my surprise to find you already there.

When I saw you kneeling in the clearing, I was shocked, but before I could decide what response to make you raised your head and the early sun came down like a benediction upon your head. And then you rose and came to me, with such grace that I wondered that I had never noticed it before.

Confused, and angry that my plans for mental and spiritual preparation had been thwarted, I lashed out, accusing you of unknowable perversions. And then your expression changed. The quiet resignation (was that what I saw?) was drowned under a leer and you insisted I be more specific in my charges. You suggested that perhaps I was basing my judgments on some of what I had shared with Cecile, or rather what she had shown to me. And then you offered to demonstrate what exactly you had taught Cecile, so I might know if she learned all she could have.

I can see you lying on the grass a moment later, looking up at me as I stood with my fist still cocked, still flushed with anger at the implications. But even more clearly I can see you getting up onto you knees and then rising, moving towards me, the casual grace from earlier replaced more a more predatory motion. And when you reached me and fell once again to your knees, and placed your hands on my hips, I cannot imagine why I did not strike out again but only let you kneel looking up to me, holding me in place with little other than your gaze.

I could not see anything beyond your eyes. Is it any wonder that your hand on my cock was such a surprise? Could I be faulted if the pressure you applied caused a response beyond my control?

I still cannot say why I stood there, not resisting, as you moved your hand across me. Or why I did nothing as you unfastened my clothes and reached in to caress my prick. I would blame an overwhelming confusion, an overload of the senses, as I felt your hand and heard what you were offering. Words that I had never heard used in such a way, words that until now I heard only as epithets from the coarser elements one comes across at unfortunate times, these words came from your lips in a voice that I could feel as strongly as I could feel your hands – and then your breath as you whispered the words against my naked skin.

You asked if Cecile licked my cock, as you demonstrated that very thing. From base to tip you stroked me with your tongue. And then, as you words registered and I pulled up in indignation, you sucked me into your mouth and all protests fled.

When had I become hard and ready? When you first touched me? Or even before, when I saw you in a supplicant's pose with the light against your features? It hardly mattered at the time, as I could think of nothing beyond that wet heat and firm pressure that was surrounding my member. And then you pulled away. The loss of pleasure and the cold morning air against my cock brought me to myself and I backed away and turned to go, where I do not know. But you did not let me retreat.

Before I had gone a step, you grabbed me and spun me around, almost into a tree. I caught myself and went to move again, but before I could do more than straighten up, I felt you against me, the pressure against my backside and the arms reaching around to grab hold of me. I could not move my arms from the tree. That was the only contact that kept me from collapsing.

As you pressed against me I had visions of what might happen. I thought you would have me there, bugger me against that tree. And yet I did not move – until you started moving against me. I could feel myself straining back, pressing my ass up to your cock as if I could move away the cloth separating us by sheer force of will. I could feel myself, rocking into your hand and onto your staff until I could last no longer and I spilled on the bark in front of me.

When you pulled away, I could hear the sneer in your voice as you reminded me of my love – of how you had violated her and how I had betrayed her once again. And then you reminded my of my weapon, suggesting that the sword hanging at my side might prove more useful than the one lying limp and useless between my legs. Before I had made the decision, I had run you through.

How much of that was planned? Did you go to the woods that morning to die? Was this all a ruse to get me to act on my anger? I will never know and ever wonder.

And so with your death in the old year, I must go forward with my life in the new. I have written this to help me do so. I do not understand all that went on or why I did not protest more, but that is another thing I must live with. And I must try to ignore the fact that the forgiveness I bestowed upon Cecile with regards to her actions with you has been tainted with a vague dissatisfaction that those actions were far more numerous and prolonged than my own.

May you find the peace I feel you are seeking, for you have left me little of my own.

Paris, January 7, 17**.

WNS

MOVIEVERSE

Titanic - Jack/Fabrizzio

Author: Mandylynn
Title: Beautiful Dreamer
Date: December 10
Fandom: Titanic/Movies
Pairing: Jack Dawson/Fabrizio De Rossi
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A sneak peak into Jack and Fabrizio’s life before and during the Titanic.
Disclaimer: James Cameron and Paramount Pictures own “Titanic.” I do not make profit from this story, nor do I take any credit in creating the characters.
Feedback address: mandylynn4@yahoo.com
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Note: I wasn’t there on the Titanic. So, I will not attempt to recreate any parts of the true story that I don’t know about. I’m simply going off the movie.
Beta:

Beautiful Dreamer

~*~

Jack Dawson stared up at the bottom of the bridge, trying to figure out why he’d woken up. He was warm and happy. His best friend in the whole world, Fabrizio, was lying next to him in the grass, curled up to his body. He’d had an opportunity to find some bread last night, so his stomach was fuller than usual. His drawings were tucked safely in his coat, and his knapsack that held his paper, charcoal, and personal belongings from America was serving as a pillow. Overall, he had to say, he felt the safest he had in a
long time.

Of course, the morning was a bit chilly. He could feel the cool breeze coming off of the Atlantic Ocean, which wasn’t far away. He smelled the salt in the air and heard gulls overhead. He could also hear the beginnings of a crowd gathering, and he wondered what was going on.

At that moment, Fabrizio stirred. He murmured something Italian in his sleep then flopped onto his back. A small breath of cold April air hit his exposed neck and he gasped awake. “Scopata!” he cried out and Jack laughed.

“Might want to watch that tongue of yours. You never know who could be walking around above us.”

Fabrizio scowled. He was not a morning person. “Va la scopata voi stessi.” He grumbled to himself and sat up, rubbing at his neck with his hands. “It’s cold out here.”

Jack sat up, too, and nodded. “Sure is. But probably not for England.”

Fabrizio reached into his own bag and took out what was left of his bread from the previous night. He munched it slowly and silently. After a moment, he held out a small bit for Jack to take.

The two young men ate, then stood up, stretching. “So, what should we do today, Fabrizio? The day is young and so are we.”

Fabrizio smiled his first smile of the day. “I don’t know. What is there to do in England?”

Jack laughed. “Everything you could imagine, I suppose. Let’s wander around town and see what there is to do.”

They set off towards the center of town, but found nothing of great interest there. After an hour or so, they came upon the large commotion. There were throngs of people on the boat dock. In the harbor stood a ship so large they had to crane their necks to see the decks. Jack casually asked a gentleman wearing a White Star hat what was going on.

“It’s the Titanic’s launching, sir. Shipping off to America on her maiden voyage.”

“America?” Jack’s heart leapt for home. He’d grown up in Wisconsin and longed to see his family. He’d set off far too early in life, at fifteen, and wound up around the world, drawing and living the life he’d wanted to live. An artist. That’s what he was. And now, he dreamed of drawing his homestead and sketching the plains and valleys there.

“That’s what I said, sir.” A car horn honked and the White Star employee jumped to attention. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Jack looked at Fabrizio. “That ship’s going to America. And I’m gonna be on it.”

~*~

An hour later, they’d given up trying to beg and borrow a ticket on the steamship. Instead, they decided to try for stealing. They sat perched at a table in a seedy bar, glasses full of liquor they’d bought with money they’d won at poker. Currently, Jack was concentrating intently on his cards, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

On the table in front of him, lay a pair of third-class tickets aboard the Titanic, bet on a hand that Jack was certain wasn’t as good as what he held right now.

He played the hand out. Sven, the man betting the tickets, laid his cards down to reveal two pair. Jack pretended for a second that he was heartbroken. He turned to Fabrizio to apologize.

“Sorry Fabrizio.”

“What sorry? What you got? You lose my money? Ma va fa'n culo testa di
cazzo…”

“Sorry…you’re not gonna see your mama for a long time.” He slapped his hand down on the table, revealing his cards. “Cause you’re goin’ to America! FULL HOUSE, BOYS!”

They both started celebrating, and after a tiny scuffle with Sven’s poker buddy, they were on their way. They bolted through the crowd, rushing to get onboard. The ship was leaving in five minutes. They barely made it.

Jumping up onto the loading bridge, Jack yelled out to the crew, who were shutting the doors. “Wait! We’re passengers!”

“Have you been through the inspection queue?”

“Of course! Anyway, we don’t have any lice…we’re Americans.” Jack almost stuttered. “Both of us.”

Sure enough, the crewmen let them aboard, and they were ecstatic. They climbed up on the upper decks and waved down to people they didn’t know. They screamed and cheered on the bow, happy to be going to another place.

But the best part of all came when they found their room. It was warm and cozy, – even though they would have to share with two Swedish men who were probably Sven’s other friends. They hadn’t slept in beds since…a very long time. Jack couldn’t even remember.

Fabrizio was so excited. He’d never been to America before. “Jack,” he said, as they strolled along the third class hallway.

“Hmmm?” Jack was busy checking out the accommodations. He was studying the signs on the walls as he walked, not really paying much attention to his friend.

“I’m…happy that we won those tickets.”

“Me, too.”

Fabrizio smiled. “This is the best day of my life,” he said, rather to himself since Jack was busy smiling and flirting with some of the other third class passengers who’d stepped out into the hallway. Fabrizio smiled at the others and nodded, even though he really didn’t care to meet any of the new people. He wanted to bask in the pleasure of being on this gigantic ship, going to America, and starting a new life, – one he hoped was full of riches and pleasantries.

Suddenly, Fabrizio was ripped from his happy daydreams as Jack tugged on his arm. “Come, Fabri! There’s a whole ship to explore!”

Jack’s enthusiasm flooded over onto him and Fabrizio had nothing else to do but laugh and be dragged along behind. Finally, after a string of maze-like corridors, they emerged on the main boat deck.

“Look!” Jack shouted to him, pointing down into the water. Fabrizio rushed over and stared down. “See them?”

There were two dolphins dancing alongside the ship, happily swimming and darting around. Then there were more, and the whole pod went speeding in front of the boat. Fabrizio darted to keep an eye on them. They were most fascinating.

Fabrizio looked out along the water. Millions of tiny sparkles shone on the water. The cool sea air was salty and crisp. The waves rippled in front of them and Fabrizio found himself standing on the very bow of the ship. He felt as if he were flying. He couldn’t see any part of the ship at all in front of him, – just the sun, and the sea, and the distant horizon with nothing but more ocean looming ahead. He couldn’t help it. He giggled like a schoolgirl and let his arms fly out to their sides.

Jack, seeing how much fun his friend was having, came up behind him to take a look. The beauty, too, took him, aback and he shouted at the top of his lungs.

After a while, the two young men hopped down, feeling almost seasick from their “flying” episode. They linked arms, like drunken sailors, and nearly skipped back to the room. The two Swedish men who shared the room were gone now and Jack took that moment to finally unpack his things. He laid out the few scraps of clean clothing he had and laid upon those his sketchbook. It was a dingy old leather portfolio he’d managed to buy from a poorer artist than even he.

Fabrizio, who’d watched his friend unpack silently, walked up and gestured to the portfolio. “Any new ones?”

“Nah. No girls around since Paris. And there’s nothing compared to the girls in gay Paris!” he joked.

Fabrizio smiled weakly and settled down to unpack his own kit bag. Jack, however, ran his fingers over his portfolio and then covered it with his pillow. No one would steal it. No one.

“I’m gonna go take a piss.” He wandered into the small closet with the toilet and shut the door.

Fabrizio took this opportunity to take a peek at Jack’s drawings. He’d loved nearly every single one he’d ever seen. So, he wasn’t surprised when he saw some pictures that captured his attention at the first sight. At the front of the portfolio was a sketch of the one-legged prostitute from Paris. The girl had been very nice…and very accommodating. But Jack captured the inside of her. The parts no one had desired to see.

He flipped the page. His fingers stuttered over that picture. It was of the same woman, in a very lude position. Her leg was splayed and her nether regions were bared for all to see. Needless to say, Fabrizio felt himself blushing.

He flipped the page again. Here, his blush deepened and his mouth gaped open. There was a sketch of himself, sleeping peacefully on his kit bag under a bridge. In fact, the scenery looked to be that of Southampton.

He didn’t know he looked so beautiful. His lips were plump and open slightly. His hair, although mostly trapped by a hat, was curled and unruly against his forehead. His eyelashes appeared to be long and fringed, – almost womanly. One hand was resting on the knapsack near his head, the other clutching the front of his coat.

It made him slightly uneasy to know he had been drawn in his sleep. It was kind of arousing to think he looked like that to Jack, though. He’d always admired Jack…and this feeling was a bit new to Fabrizio.

“Find one you like?”

Fabrizio started as Jack’s voice loomed out of the silence. He blushed harder and licked his lips. Then, he slammed shut the portfolio. “No,” he laughed uneasily. “All stuff I’ve seen before. Good work.”

Jack cleared his throat. “There’s some in there I’m sure you haven’t seen. And I bet you’ve seen them now.”

Fabrizio got up and finished pulling his things out of his kit. “No.”

“Then why are you blushing?”

It was a dare, and Fabrizio knew it. He frowned. “Okay, you caught me.” He hung his head a little and tried not to make eye contact with Jack. Jack, however, started laughing.

“You saw the dirty picture didn’t you? Of Claudette?”

Fabrizio nodded. He had seen the pictures of her… It’s not like he was lying exactly. He kept working on unpacking, then shifted up onto the top bunk.

Jack happily flipped through his own sketches. Then, he stopped, frowned down at the picture of his friend, and sighed. “So you saw this.”

Fabrizio rubbed his nose. “Let’s go up and see if we can see the Statue of Liberty yet.”

“Fabri…it’s not what you think.” Jack stuffed the picture back inside the portfolio and tucked it back behind the pillow. “I just…couldn’t sleep is all, and you were there.”

“Oh.”

Jack climbed up the ladder to the top bunk and stared at Fabrizio. Fabrizio stared back. The look in Jack’s eyes was one of defeated embarrassment. Fabrizio tried to look away, to not see what he thought he saw, but he couldn’t. Finally, the Italian sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead.

“We should eat lunch.” He made a move as if to get up, but Jack stopped him.

“Wait.” Jack’s hand was closed around his wrist, so Fabrizio waited. Jack was hesitating on something… “I…well, I drew you because you looked peaceful, but I also drew you because…”

“Because why?”

“Forget it.” Jack’s hand slid away and he began climbing down the ladder. Fabrizio followed him down.

“No. You draw me while I’m sleeping and you won’t tell me why? Quello non è giusto.”

Jack sighed again. “You’re…beautiful, alright? For a guy,” he added. “Did you even look at that picture?”

Fabrizio was flabbergasted. He was beautiful? “What do you mean?”

Jack grabbed the portfolio and flipped to the picture. “See here?” He pointed to the face in the picture. “Your eyes. I did your eyes just like they looked. And your expression was exactly like that. Your hands…”

“You like hands. It’s your forte.”

Jack ignored him and continued. “They were angled just so. It was like a piece of artwork already. I had to draw it…you.”

Fabrizio chewed on his lower lip. “Me? Artwork?”

“Look at you!” Jack pushed the sketch up to his friend’s face. “See? Everything beautiful about that picture is you all the time. Everything.”

Then, Fabrizio found himself being kissed. His lips were mashed by warm, salty ones and his eyes, although wide open from shock at first, closed after a few moments. No man had kissed him in his entire life. In fact, he’d not really kissed many women, either. So, this was a first for him.

He relaxed and felt hands drawing him nearer to him. He went with them and put his own hands around Jack’s neck. Something warm and wet tried to wiggle its way in between his lips and he opened them to let it in. It was Jack’s tongue.

He’d never felt anything so sensual and erotic in his life. Their tongues played in the cavern of his mouth. He moaned a bit, pressed into Jack, and felt his arousal met by another.

“Oi!”

The two jumped apart when the door swung open and the two Swedes came back inside. Jack flipped his portfolio shut. Fabrizio licked his swollen lips. The Swedes noticed nothing.

“We were just going out onto the deck, right Fabriz?”

“Yeah. On deck.”

He silently screamed at his erection to go down and hoped no one noticed it was there while he followed Jack up stairs to the poop deck. They lounged on the deck, with Jack drawing and Fabrizio conversing with an Irishman.

Little did they know what was going to happen soon…

And little did Fabrizio know that the woman Jack’s eyes laid upon on that fateful day, would be the one who took away his Jack forever. He didn’t see Jack much after that afternoon. And, as he was paddling away from the sinking ship four days later, he called out for his best friend with his last breath.
 

END

~*~
Notes:

*Quello non è giusto. – That is not fair.

*Ma va fa'n culo testa di cazzo… (I’m not sure what this means. Neither does Babelfish. But apparently it’s not nice. And…ummm…I took it directly from the script, so…)

* Va la scopata voi stessi. – Fuck you, too!

* Scopata! – Fuck!

BOOKS

Harry Potter - Harry/Snape

Author: Downdilly
Title: Un-Scrooged
Date: Dec 6th
Fandom: Harry Potter/Books
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Rating: PG 'cause there's sorta nudity.
Summary: Bad kippers bring bad dreams. A drabble.
Disclaimer: All things Potter belong to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Books, Warner Bros., and a bunch of other people I'm sure.
Feedback address: downdilly@downdilly.com
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at: http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Note: A drabble. That means a story of exactly 100 words. Including the title.
Beta: My evil twin Skippy. Except she said, "You want me to beta WHAT?"

Un-Scrooged

"Heed the Spirits' warnings, Severus, lest you end like myself!"

"Bollocks," Snape muttered, staggering out of bed and glancing at the clock, Malfoy's ghostly imprecation ringing in his ears.

"Five o'clock, Malfoy, you're too late!" Snape grabbed his robe and headed for his morning coffee.

Cup in hand, Snape wandered into the livingroom, finally noticing the glowing tree and piles of presents.

China clattered when he caught sight of tanned skin over muscles and the occasional crop of dark hair, topped by a Santa hat and lying under the tree.

Harry grinned and spread his arms wide. "Christmas present."

END

REALISTIC SHOWS

Nip/Tuck - Christian/Matt

Author: Scribe
Title: Hide and Seek
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Christian/Matt
Summary: At the McNamara Christmas party, Matt and Christian play games--and stop playing games.
Show: Nip/Tuck, Realistic
Date: December 10, 2004
Disclaimer: Nip/Tuck and the characters portrayed here are the property of Warner Brothers. The author makes no claims, and receives no profit. This story is not meant to reflect on the actual lives of the actors who portrayed the characters.
Feedback address: poet77665@catlover.com
Advertisement: Part of the SAC-2004 at:
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Note: From the Playing Games Series (Nip/Tuck). I understand that there has been a recent 'revelation' about Matt and Christian's relationship this season. Just ignore that here. Didn't happen.
Beta: TW and Vigdis

Hide and Seek
By Scribe

Julia came out of the kitchen, muttering, "God, my kitchen is never going to be the same again. And you'd better not have put a hole in my wall or woodwork."

Sean was standing on their stepladder, tying a sprig of mistletoe to a hook situated in the middle of the arch leading from the front hall into the living room. "This is the new millennium." He pulled the hook off the wall, making a subdued pop, and turned it to show her. "Suction cup--see?" He licked the cup, then smacked it back against the wall.

"That's disgusting."

"Said the woman who had her hand up a turkey's ass last month. If you didn't want to deal with the food, we could have hired a caterer." He climbed down from the ladder, folding it up. "The guests are going to start arriving at any minute. Do I need to set up some sort of barricade to keep them out of the kitchen? Crime scene tape, perhaps?"

"Oh, it's clean enough for casual visitors, but I don't know if it will ever pass a health inspection. We need a new blender. The damn lid won't stay on the one we have."

"So that's how the red stuff got on the walls, and why we're not having gazpacho, like you'd planned. I have to tell you, it gave me quite a turn when I walked into that. I was about two seconds away from calling 911 when you showed up. Why the hell were you making gazpacho, anyway? I thought we'd agreed on just snacks and appetizers."

She shrugged sheepishly. "Cheese puffs, shrimp puffs, crab puffs... We've seen the same stuff at every Christmas party we've been to. I just wanted to do something a little different, and I thought hey--it's red... Christmas, right?"

"Ho ho ho. I'm just glad you didn't go for the blender borscht recipe. We'd have never gotten the stains off the wall." He put the ladder in the hall closet. "Is that all? Are we set? And why didn't we check to be sure an hour ago?"

"Because we both actually have lives aside from party planning." Julia ticked off on her fingers. "Food set up on the dining table. Bar stocked, including plastic glasses and tons of ice. Screw the garnishes. If they want lemon twists and maraschino cherries, they can bring their own. The get booze and mixers. Plenty of tissue in the bathrooms. Are you sure we can't put a lock on the thermostat? Someone always seems to set the room temperature to either 'freeze' or 'roast' at these things."

"Way ahead of you." Sean pointed at a holly wreath on one wall. "Camouflage. Are the kids settled?"

"Annie is with Mom, and Matt is going to spend the night with his friend Tucker."

"Correction--Matt WAS going to spend the night with Tucker." Matt came into the living room, folding his cell phone shut. "Tucker got a chance to go to Bermuda with his grandparents." Matt dropped down on the sofa. "His cousin Ashley, the Boston Brahmin princess, was supposed to go with them, just like they took her to Aspen with them last year. They're still punishing Tucker's mother for divorcing and remarrying someone they think is beneath them. Anyway, seems that the last time they visited Ashley, Grandma found a bottle of Kwell. She freaked a bit and came back into the family room; waving it, asking Ashley what sort of people she'd been hanging around with to get lice? Then she started babbling about Ashley having to cut off all her beautiful hair." Matt grinned. "Apparently the shit really hit the fan when Ashley tried to calm her down by saying the treatment wouldn't involve the hair on her head."

There was a moment of silence, then Sean was laughing so hard he had to sit down. Julia frowned for a moment, then got it. She shook her head. "You'd think that with Grandma making such a fuss over thinking she was with a social element low enough to have head lice, she'd have enough sense not to admit she had it for crabs. But you've had this sleep over set up for a week. It's pretty short notice."

"Oh, they aren't going tonight. He has to fly up and spend the next couple of days kissing up. Of course they call it 'bonding'. Anyway, I can't go over now."

"Well, that's just wonderful," Julia sighed. "We don't have time to drive you over before the guests start arriving, and I hate to call Mom up to come back now."

Matt sat up quickly. "I'm not staying over at Grandma's--especially not when Annie is over there." He made a face. "They have tea parties. Last time I ended up sitting next to a Paddington Bear, holding a cup of peppermint tea and a watercress sandwich. Why do I have to go anywhere?"

"Matt, this is going to be an adult party."

"What, you're planning on having an orgy?"

"Matt!"

Sean was chuckling again. "Well, Christian is coming. Never can tell how it will turn out. Matt's right--there's no reason why he shouldn't stay."

"There's going to be drinking. From the amount of supplies we laid in, and past experience, a lot of it."

"So? I'm sure he'll promise to stick with soft drinks, won't you?" Matt nodded. "Problem solved."

Julia was frowning. Finally she said, "All right, there's no reason you have to go anywhere else, I suppose. You can just stay in your room."

"Mom!" Matt groaned.

"Don't act pitiful. It isn't as if we're walling you up. You have an entertainment system that would be the pride of most bachelor pads, and you have your cell phone and computer."

Matt's expression was sulky. His tone sarcastic, he said, "Do I need to put a chamber pot in my room, or am I allowed out to use the bathroom?"

"Look, you..."

The doorbell rang, and Matt jumped up. "I'll get it."

Julia followed him toward the front door. "Don't you walk away from me after that little scene! You can just..."

Matt had opened the door. Christian Troy stood there, one hand lifted to brace casually on the frame. When he saw Matt, he broke into a wide, genuine smile. "Hey. I thought they were going to pack you off somewhere."

"Didn't quite work out," said Sean, coming up behind Matt. "But he's being relegated to his room for the evening."

"Well, that sucks. He would have been one of the few really interesting people at the party."

"Thank you. Thank you very much."

"You're welcome. Are you having eggnog?"

Julia, standing in the arch, frowned. "Damn. No, we're not."

"Good." Christian swung up the arm that had been dangling at his side, and handed Matt a bottle of rum. "This can be consumed with Coke, as God intended."

Julia came and held out her hand pointedly, and Matt passed the bottle over. "It's so nice to be trusted." He turned and stomped up the stairs, just as another car full of guests was pulling to the curb outside.

Christian went in, going straight to the bar. Julia had just set the rum down on the bar. Christian immediately picked it up, pouring a generous splash over ice. Julia silently opened a two-liter bottle of Coke, raising an eyebrow at him. He shrugged and held out his glass, letting her top it off. "You know, you're going to have to let him out of diapers some day."

"It just makes good sense to keep him away from temptation," she said defensively. "After all, the last adult party he went to didn't turn out all that well."

Christian had been sipping his drink. Now he gave her a sour look, and reached for the bottle again. "Hopefully you'll let me forget that before I can apologize again by buying flowers with my social security check."

Julia looked through the archway, seeing Sean taking coats from the newly arrived guests, laughing at some witticism. One of the women was standing under the arch. Sean pointed p to the mistletoe, then kissed her quickly, earning a coy giggle. "This is hardly the time to discuss this." She moved to join in the greeting.

"I wasn't the one who brought it up," Christian muttered. *Boy, this party is going to be full of holiday cheer.*

It wasn't any better or any worse than most of the holiday parties given around Miami--not as elaborate as some, perhaps a higher alcohol consumption than others. Around nine-thirty Christian (who'd accounted for a good half of the bottle he'd brought with him) took the initiative to turn on the stereo, and some of the grateful partiers started dancing.

Then one of the men noticed the trio of women standing on the sidelines--under the mistletoe. He swooped on them, grabbing and kissing each of the squealing women in succession. Now that the mistletoe had been discovered, it became a competition to maneuver, or drag, someone under it.

At one point Julia found herself standing under it with Liz. Christian pointed, whooping, and Julia glanced up, then said, "Oh, no. No way."

Christian smiled wickedly. "C'mon, Julia. It's seven years bad luck if you don't."

"That's breaking a mirror," said Liz, good humored.

There were yells, and whistles of encouragement. "This is so childish!" Julia snapped.

"Be a good sport, hon," said Sean. "After all, I kissed Laverne." The elderly woman, one of their best patients, lifted her cocktail cheerfully.

"Tis the season!" said Liz. She quickly hooked an arm around Julia's neck and kissed her lustily. Julia was frozen for a moment in shock. Liz let go before the other woman could pull away. She smirked, saying, "Just rinse your mouth out with lemon vodka if you really have a problem with it."

Julia licked her lips. The smile was a bit forced, but it was there. "No, no problem."

"Good." Liz walked back into the party, switching her hips pointedly, a catlike smile on her face.

Julia went to the bar and poured herself a strong drink. Behind her, someone said, "I didn't think you had it in you."

She turned around to see Christian. "Yeah, well, don't start cooking up threesome fantasies."

His smile twisted a little. "Don't flatter yourself too much. I have fantasies all right, but they haven't centered around you for some time."

Later Christian was watching the party from the arch, being careful to stand to the side, away from the mistletoe.

"Hey, I thought you'd be in the thick of things."

He glanced back and saw Matt coming down the stairs. "I have been. Just hanging back and watching the flow for a little while." Matt came to stand beside him, watching the crowd. "Man, you old people dance funny."

Christian laughed. "That's called The Bump. It used to be a big thing in the discos."

"My parents discoed?"

"Never let them deny it."

Laverne noticed them, and pointed, calling loudly, "Fresh meat!"

A lot of the talking and laughter died down. Sean, not seeming too upset, called, "That's my son, Laverne."

"You make pretty babies," she said brightly. She pointed up, and Matt looked up, then looked at Laverne. "That's right, sweetie--you're caught. Christian, do your duty."

There was an explosion of laughter at the look on Matt's face. Someone, realizing that what was going on was a lot more interesting than the music, turned the stereo off. Julia said loudly, "Right, very funny. Matt, what are you doing down here?"

"I'm hungry, Mom. I just want something to eat."

"I told you to stay in your room."

"Isn't that selfish of you?" said Laverne. "Christian, kiss him."

"That isn't funny!" snapped Julia. "It's... just wrong."

"Why?" said Liz. "Everyone seemed all right with me kissing you, and you didn't exactly spit in my face."

"Yes, but that's different."

"How?"

"It..." Julia stared. She knew there was nothing she could say that wouldn't make her look like a double-standard sexual bigot. She pointed at her son. "I'll get you something to eat. You just stay there." She went into the dining room.

"That's right," said Laverne. "Stay right there, and pucker up."

There was applause, and growing calls to action. Christian glanced at Matt, then said, "All right, people, quit teasing the kid."

Matt's head jerked around at the word 'kid'. "I don't know about you, man," he said, "but I don't need the bad luck you get breaking a Christmas tradition." He reached up, taking Christian's face between his hands, and pulled him down firmly.

Christian's eyes widened as Matt kissed him. He'd dreamed about something like this for so long--how Matt's mouth would feel against his own: soft, smooth, with the slight rasp of barely-there beard stubble brushing the sensitive skin beside his lips. But he was feeling it under the gaze of dozens of pairs of amused eyes.

Christian thought, *I've got to move. If Julia sees this, she'll probably lobby Sean to ban me from seeing Matt at all.* He took hold of Matt's wrists and moved his hands down, pulling back from the kiss, but he smiled when he did it. He looked out at Laverne. "Happy, you old fag hag?"

She laughed. "What, no tongue?"

Christian quickly swiped the tip of his tongue over his lips, but he couldn't help it--he looked at Matt when he did it. Matt was watching him intently, and there had been a tiny bit of disappointment in his eyes. When Christian licked his lips, though, something shifted in his expression.

Christian let go of him just as Julia came back into the room, carrying a plate of food and a can of soda. "Everybody's awful quiet," she remarked as she went to Matt. She handed over the supplies. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing earth shattering," said Christian.

"Speak for yourself," Matt muttered.

"What?" said Julia.

"I said have a good night," said Matt, starting up stairs. He paused at the top landing, setting his plate on a small table to free his hand for opening his bedroom door. Then he looked back downstairs. His mother had wandered back into the party, satisfied that Matt was settled for the night. The noise and conversation had resumed. But Christian had taken a step into the hallway, and was gazing up at him.

Nothing was said. They just stared at each other for a moment. Matt pulled the tab on his soda. The pop and hiss of carbonation was sharp in the relative silence of the front hall. He took a long sip from the can, watching Christian over the top. Then he lowered the can and licked his lips--slowly. He picked up the plate and went into his room. A second later the door shut.

Christian took a step, then another. He found his hand resting on the banister. His fingers flexed, then he turned, and walked back into the living room.

Judith was arguing with Sean at the stereo. "No. I don't know why you turned it off, but it's a good idea. It's getting late enough that we need to cut off the music, before the neighbors call the police."

"But it's too early to break up the party," Sean protested, "and most of the small talk was used up before right after everyone got here."

Christian was getting himself another drink nearby. "And you said no orgy, so what else is there to do?"

She gave him a scornful look. "People have entertained themselves at parties for generations. We can... We can play games."

"But you said no orgy."

She made a face at him, even as she took a small notebook and a pencil from beside the telephone. "I mean parlor games. You know--Charades, Gossip, Simon Says, Spin the Bottle, Sardines..."

"Ew!" said a female guest.

"Sardines isn't so bad," said Julia. "It's sort of a British version of Hide and Seek, except that It goes and hides, and everyone else seeks him. When they find him, they crowd in wherever he's hiding and wait to be discovered. The last one to find the hiding place is It next. Parlor games don't have to be for kids."

Christian groaned, but one of the female guests, sounding interested, said, "Oh, yeah! Like Truth or Dare, in the Madonna movie."

Christian gave her a suave smile. "But Julia doesn't want an orgy."

A few of the guests, who'd begun gathering round, laughed, but Julia said, "Ha, ha." She was writing quickly in the notebook, a few words on each page. The she ripped out the pages and folded them quickly. When she had about a dozen she tossed them together, saying, "We'll draw one of these, and play whatever comes up. Then we can play another in a little while."

"Terrific." Christian sat down. "This should provide plenty of emotional blackmail material for later."

The first game was Packing My Trunk, a progressive alphabet memory game. They built up a list of 'what I'm putting in my trunk', and it was amazing the variety of things that were being taken. Some of it would have definitely gotten a person in trouble at customs. There was alcohol, beer, cocaine, a dildo, Ex-lax, fruit... "That one will really get you in trouble," Christian warned them. "Those Department of Agriculture agents are worse than the DEA."

They managed to stumble through one