By heidi
 

Christmas in California.  It truly was a sight to behold, and nothing like what one would expect.

He walked down the streets, enjoying the sun shining down on his skin.  The temperature was in the mid 60s, and people were walking around in t-shirts and shorts.  Oh yeah, it felt like Christmas.

He thought back to previous times, previous Christmases.  He had lived through so many of them, watching as the traditions had changed over time.  Some had been hard, others had been incredibly enjoyable.  The best Christmases had been the ones when he had children around him.  Never his children, but that never really mattered, or at least rarely.  Like any immortal, there had been times he had wished that the had had children of his own, but he had long ago accepted that this was simply not an option.

1735, Galway, Ireland

"Unca Benjiman, Unca Benjiman."  Methos had heard the words mere moments before he felt the snowball that pelted him squarely in the back.  Bending down, he scooped a handful of snow before turning around and looking for his prey.

"Oh Liam," he called out in a singsong voice.  The kid was clever.  At the wee age of 8, he had a mind that would do any general proud, let alone his ability to move without a sound.   Methos looked around, knowing that the child was hiding, waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack him once again.  Taking a few steps, he saw a shadow move to his left.  Turning, he released his snowball as he felt the impact of the one Liam had thrown.

"Yay, I got you, Unca Benjiman."

Methos shook his head, and walked over to the young man.  "Liam, what am I going to do with you?"

The child smiled at him, before grabbing his hand, and dragging him over to a snow bank.  "Make snow angels."  Liam threw himself down into the snow, and started flinging himself around, making a distorted version on an angel.  Methos couldn't blame him.  Snow in Galway was a treat, and having it there in time for Christmas had made it extra special.

2000, Los Angeles

He stopped in front of one of the many stores that lined the streets, all decorated for the season.  Of course, that's decorated for the season California style.  He had to laugh at the little ornaments that hung from the tree in the store.  Santa in a bathing suit?  What will they think of next?

Walking to the next store, he realized that that had been a question which was probably better left unasked, as he looked at the decorations of a nude Santa "playing" with his reindeer.  He stepped back, and looked to see what type of store it was.  Store of Sexual Delight.  Ah, that explained it.

Snickering, he moved on.

*****

Angel looked around the lobby of the hotel where Angel Investigation resided.  Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn had gone full out with the decorations.  The place looked like a winter wonderland.  Cordy had decided that they simply had to have a holiday party, and what better place to have one than at the hotel.  Angel's theory was that the party would mostly be Cordy's friends, so it should have been at her place, but in the end, the decision was made by the others.

He sometimes wondered just who was the boss.

He also wondered if there was any money left in the bank account as he studied the decorations a little more closely.  Walking to one of the windows, he lifted his hand to touch the fake snow which had been sprayed on it, to give it the effect of frost.

"Stop right there, mister."

Angel froze where he was, then lowered his hand before sheepishly turning around.

"I spent a lot of time making sure everything was just perfect for tonight, and I'm not about to let my silly boss blithely come in, stick his fingers anywhere he wants, and ruin the whole effect."

"The place looks wonderful, Cordelia."  Pointedly looking around, "It appears you put enough money into it."

She smiled brightly, "Well, we have a reputation to maintain."  He raised an eyebrow to her, "Alright, *I* have a reputation to maintain.  Anyway - I'm waiting for Gunn and Wesley to get back, so Gunn can take me to do some final shopping."

Angel knew that if he could, he would have blanched just a little.

Raising her hands in a dismissive manner, "Don't worry.  I already have the money allotted from the accounts."

Angel simply nodded, then headed to his office, deciding the best way to stay out of trouble was to stay away from temptation.

*****

Cordelia dragged Gunn into yet another store.

"I thought you said you had everything planned out.  I thought this was a trip simply to pick up last minute supplies.'

Cordelia snorted, but continued to look at the shelves of books.

"Explain to me again, why am I here?"

"*You* have a truck."

"Riiiiight.  Whatever.  Can we get on with this?  I want to be there when the party actually starts."

"Stop worrying, Gunn.  The party won't start until we're there."

Finding the book she wanted, she plucked it from the shelf, and left to buy it.  "This is the perfect gift.  I just have to decide if it's for Wesley or Angel."

Shaking his head, Gunn headed outside to wait for Cordy to finish her Christmas shopping.

*****

Methos sat on the beach, watching the afternoon crowd.  Even though it was only a couple of days before Christmas, the kids were out on the beach, running around.  Two kids in particular caught his attention.  They were throwing a frisbee.  A beagle was running back and forth between them, chasing the flying disk, jumping up as often as possible, and at times, almost getting to the missed tosses before the children.

Methos laughed along with the children at the antics of the dog.  At some point, the beagle lost interest in the disk, and began running around, looking for new things of interest, which was how Methos ended up with a lap full of dog.  Giving the creature the perfunctory scratch behind the ears, and receiving the obligatory lick on the face, he returned the dog to the children.

This is how he liked to spend the holidays, watching the joy which others experienced.  He was a firm believer that in some instances, it's better to give, than to receive, and Christmas was one of the times.  Before he left Paris, he had left two packages with Joe, one for the Watcher, and one for the Highlander.  For the mortal, he had left a translation of one of his journals.  For the immortal, he gave a journal which Darius had given him years earlier, wherein the immortal priest had talked of an immortal he had just met, an immortal that may actually be deserving of the prize.  It was up to MacLeod to realize that Darius was writing of him.

Wiping the sand from his jeans, he headed back to his rental, and the heart of the city.

*****

Dragging Gunn behind her, who finally realized his purpose for the trip was *not* the truck, but his ability to carry many packages, Cordelia marched into the hotel.

"Wesley? Wesley?"  Before she had the opportunity to call out once more, the former Watcher walked out from the hallway leading to the kitchen.

"There you are.  Has the food arrived yet?"

"Yes, the food has arrived.  They simply left it, though.  It would appear that they had a little problem at the caterer's..."

"What?"  Wesley seemed startled by the screech.  "Please tell me they were able to deliver all of the food."

"As I was saying, they had a little problem.  One of their trucks had a little mishap, so the other trucks were pulling extra jobs.  To make them all, they simply left the food in the refrigerator, since we were simply having food delivered, and not catered, per se."

"Pfffft.  No problem.  As long as the food was delivered."  Waving a hand to Gunn, "Could you put all the packages under the tree?  I'll go work on the food, get it prepared for tonight.  Wesley, come with me."

As she disappeared down the hallway, Angel stuck his head out to see if she was gone.  Seeing the area was safe, he walked out and began to help Gunn with the various packages.

"I swear, that woman would make a general quake in his boots."

Gunn snorted his agreement.

The two worked quietly together, carefully placing all the packages around the tree.  Stepping back, Angel studied the tree some more.  With all its blinking lights, it reminded him of flickering candles which had decorated the trees when he was a child.  Of course, there were many more lights now, and the tinsel, which they couldn't hang in his youth, but the image still came to mind.

As his thoughts began to drift to his youth, and his long-gone family, Cordelia rushed from the kitchen.

"We have an emergency.  The caterers didn't bring the drinks."

"Um, Cordelia."

The young woman spun around to look at Wesley as he followed her out.  "Didn't I tell you that they couldn't deliver alcohol?"  A decidedly red tint began to creep up his neck.

"No, you did not."

"Um, yes, well, it seems that this particular caterer can only deliver alcohol when they are providing a bartender.  I didn't catch the full details.  But I would have sworn I told you."

"Believe me, Wesley" giving the man in question a glaring look, "I would have remembered.  Well," looking around, and spotting the two men standing by the tree, "we will just have to improvise.  Wesley, go back to the kitchen, and continue preparing the various plates... and no eating from them.  If I find one shrimp puff missing, mister, you will not be a happy man.  Gunn, I'll write out a list, you are to go to the store down the street and buy the alcohol."

Angel waited for his orders, only to have Cordelia walk to the counter, and begin writing a list.  Seeing this as a prime opportunity, Angel crept to his office where he could brood in piece.

"And you, Mister 'I'm trying to sneaking away', your job is not to brood.  Happy.  Think happy.  No dark pit of despair sucking the life out of the party.  You are going to enjoy yourself tonight.  Get used to it."

With a sigh, Angel walked off.

*****

Having showered and changed, Methos left his hotel to have some dinner, and then to wander the streets some.  As interesting as Los Angeles is during the daytime, it becomes a playground at night.  Most of the businesses had decorated for the holidays.  Many simply had the usual painted windows of Santa, elves and reindeer, occasionally with a few colorful lights surrounding them, others had sprayed their windows with fake snow, giving them a frosted look, and had hung the lights which resembled icicles.  Then there were those businesses who went full out, and created a winter wonderland, drawing lots of attention to themselves.

It was nice and cheerful atmosphere.

As twilight fell, he wasn't particularly watching where he was going, or for how long he had been walking.  The evening had cooled enough to justify his wearing his coat, but was still more than pleasant for an evening stroll.  He was slightly surprised to see he had walked so far.  The neighborhood wasn't particularly run down, but it had seen better days.  Still, a surprising number of buildings were decorated.

As he turned a corner, he was confronted by four young men.

"Well, well, well.  Looky at what we got here."

"He looks like a yuppy.  Or is that puppy."

Methos controlled the urge to roll his eyes, and looked at the man he assumed to be the leader.  "Look.  I don't have anything which you would want, so you might as well leave me, and go find someone else to terrorize."

The four youths spread themselves out so that they had Methos surrounded.

"Likely story," the leader clucked. "But, I'm not buying it.  Let me see your wrists.  Someone like you probably got an expensive watch to make sure you make all your meetings."

Methos simply held his hands up, allowing his sleeves to slide down his arms a little, showing that he was in fact not wearing a watch.

Angered by this, the leader moved in, expecting Methos to back up into one of the other youths.  When Methos didn't move, the leader found himself nose to nose with the immortal.

"As I have already said,"  Methos quietly spoke, "I have nothing on me which you'll find of any interest."

Before the other man could respond, a truck appeared, with its headlights shining on the group.

"Darrin,"  A voice called from the truck, "I've told you guys before. If you're going to hang in this neighborhood, you better leave the people alone."

The leader, Darrin, turned to the truck, "But he's a tourist.  He's not a part of the neighborhood."

"That's fucked up logic, D.  Let the man go, and leave.  Maybe I won't rag you about this incident later on."

Darrin stared at the new comer for a few moments longer before turning and strutting away, expecting the others to follow.

"You okay, man?"

Methos was surprised to turn and find a young black man standing beside him, showing obvious concern.

"Yes.  Thank you.  It would appear you had good timing.  At least as far as I'm concerned."

The other man studied him, then held out a hand.  "I'm Gunn.  You new around here?"

Methos shook the offered hand.  "Adam Pierson.  And I don't know if new would be the word I'd use."

"You know this isn't exactly the best place to be at night.  Is there somewhere I can drive you?"

"No.  Actually I was just out enjoying the lights.  I wasn't quite ready to head back."

Gunn thought for a moment, then headed back to his truck.  "Then come with me.  I was just heading back to a party.  You'll be my guest."

Methos hesitated, then decided that this young man had just saved him from being mugged.  He might as well be in the proper holiday spirit, and show good faith in his fellow man, and so he followed Gunn to the truck.

*****

Methos was surprised when the truck pulled up to the front of the Hyperion Hotel.

"We're here."  Gunn jumped out of the truck, and headed to the back.  "Why don't ya give me a hand."

Methos followed suit and joined him at the back, where Gunn thrust a box filled with liquor at him.

"This is why I was out.  Seems there was a little problem with something or another, and we were without any booze for the party.  And today, I am the yes ma'am man."

Methos quirked an eyebrow.  "Yes ma'am man?"

"Well, one of them.  Me and Wes, and I think I got the better job of the two."  He hesitated, then shook his head.  "Take that back, I'm the one who had to go shopping with her.  The only one who lucked out was Angel.  But that's only because she didn't want him touching anything.  When you meet Cordelia, you'll know what I mean.  That woman is... something else."  Methos noticed a hint of fondness in the young man's voice.

"Gunn?  There you are.  Where you able to get it all?"

Turning, Methos noticed a stunning brunette rushing out the front doors.

"Yes, ma'am."  Gunn winked at Methos.  "I was able to get it all, and I brought an extra person to the party."  The young woman turned her attention to the immortal as Gunn continued his narration.  "Darrin and his gang was putting the moves on him, but I got there in time."

Cordelia gave Methos the most brilliant smile he'd ever seen.  "Well, it's a good thing Gunn found you."  Leaning in almost conspiratorially, "These streets aren't all that safe at night, but you'll be just fine here," giving his hand a little pat as she turned to head back in.  "Well, no point just standing around.  Get a move on.  The guests are going to start showing up soon, and I want this stuff hidden before they do."

As she led the men in, Methos looked at his companion.  "I think I see what you mean."

Gunn laughed.  "Oh, that was nothing.  Wait until she either a) turns on the charm, or b) turns into the military leader."

"You mean this wasn't either?"

A snort was his answer.

*****

Angel could hear the people starting to show up.  He wondered about how many of the people he would actually know.  And what exactly his role in this whole party was.  Besides being happy, and not the 'dark hole of despair that sucked the energy right out of a room.'

He still didn't think he had been that bad at the last party Cordy threw, no matter what she said.

Walking out of his office, he looked around, and noticed David Nabbit next to Gunn, presumably trying to impress him into believing that he would make a wonderful addition to their demon fighting team.  A few other faces in the crowd were also familiar, but none which he felt overly comfortable talking with.  Sighing, Angel headed for the bar, only to learn that the alcohol was not going to be brought out until later, after the children from the local orphanage had been given their presents and left.

As far as he could tell, the night was getting longer and longer, and it had only started.

Finding a relatively dark spot, Angel hid himself, and watched the party.  It seemed to be going well, and the people were having fun.

Relaxing further into his niche, he realized that he was not the only one there.  To the side, there was another man, roughly his height, maybe a little taller, but more compact in his build.  He couldn't see the man straight on, but could tell the man was smiling as he watched the happenings of the party.

Angel turned his attention back to the crowd in time to see Cordelia glare in his general direction.  With exaggerated motion, she demonstrated a smile, then mouthed the word 'mingle.'

A deep chuckle arose from beside Angel.

"She either has very good vision, or she's psychic."

"No, she just knows me too well."  Turning his attention back to the other man, he began to follow Cordelia's orders.  "Hi, I'm Angel."

"Adam.  I take it this is your place?"

"How..."

"Sign at the entrance.  'Angel Investigation.'  Interesting place for a business."

"It suits our purposes."  The other man was still watching the crowd as Wesley, dressed in a Santa's outfit, handed out presents to the children.  "You must not be one of Cordelia's friends, or you would be out schmoozing with anyone who could be someone.  So, you must be a friend of Wesley's?"

"He's the one wearing the Santa suit, right?"

Finally, he gave Angel more than a cursory glance.

"Okay, not Wesley's friend.  You weren't a client.  I think I would remember you."

"Actually, Gunn brought me here tonight."

"Gunn?"

"Yes, you know, Gunn.  Man about so tall," holding his had just a little shorter than his own height, "Tough looking guy."  Looking beyond Angel, "Who's presently dressed like an elf."

Angel simply blinked at him for a few moments, before turning his head to look in the same direction which Adam was looking.  And yes, there was Gunn, carrying a large bag, filled with more presents for Wesley to hand out to the kids.

"Damn, that woman is good."

Again, the other man chuckled.  "You must be referring to Miss Chase."

Angel grinned, looking briefly at Adam before returning his attention to Wesley, Gunn and all the children.  "I take it you met her already."

Adam chuckled again.  "Oh yes.  Very good at giving orders, that one.  I understand you are her employer."

"So the rumor goes."

"I think I could see where there might be some confusion."

"For the most part, she's quite good at what she does.  But when she gets into party mode... stand back."

Angel studied the other man again, and began to wonder why he was so comfortable with him.  He is never comfortable with strangers, but there was something familiar about this man.  Like he knew him.  The man looked to be in his mid 30s, maybe, and Angel thought he would have remember him if they had met.  Still...

They stood in companionable silence, watching the excitement of the children.  Somehow, they had gathered enough presents for each child to receive not one, but two presents this year.  Angel suspected that most likely, David Nabbit had something to do with it, with a little persuasion from Cordy.

And that was one area that Cordy had been able to get Angel to help.  He spent days surrounded by wrapping paper of various colors.  Wesley had actually come up with a plan for presents.  They would be color coordinated.  Girls presents would be wrapped in red, gold and silver, a different color for different age groups, and then blue, green and white for the boys.  So when a child approached Santa, Wesley would grab a package wrapped in a certain color, and the child would get the joy of actually opening a present.  He thought it was Cordy who said, "Unwrapping the present is half the fun."

Personally, Angel thought he could live another thousand years and be quite happy to never see another piece of wrapping paper again.

Shaking the thoughts of paper from his head, he noticed that the kids were being guided out to the bus the orphanage used.  They were no more than gone, and Cordelia was standing in front of himself and Adam.

"Okay you two, go get the booze."  Doing a little dance, she continued, "It's time to party."

Without a backwards glance, she was heading back into the crowd, yelling at one of her friends to keep his clothes on this time.

"Come on."  Adam spoke softly as he placed a hand on Angel's elbow.  "I know where it's all stored."  Angel was almost horrified that Cordy would order a guest around, until he saw that Adam actually seemed more amused than irritated.

*****

Two hours later, and Methos found himself back in the nook he had been standing in earlier.  And as expected, Angel was already there.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Angel simply ducked his head.  "Parties aren't really my thing.  It means I have to interact with people.  That isn't my strong suit."

"You seem to do fine with me."

Angel said nothing, returning his attention back to the crowd.

"Would you like some of the eggnog?"  Methos asked, holding up his near empty cup showing that he was nearly out and getting some more.  The other man thought a moment, then nodded.

Returning with their drinks, he handed Angel his mug before taking a drink from his own.  Evidently between his two mugs, someone had severally spiked the nog.  At least they used a good whisky for it, giving the drink a rich, warming feel.

As the night continued, the two men talked and took turns venturing into the crowd, getting more eggnog, and slowly getting drunker and drunker, especially Angel.  Methos enjoyed watching the younger man as he relaxed more with each glass he drank.

Around midnight, someone starting to sing a carol.  With a little maneuvering, Methos learned that the rich voice belonged to the man who had been Santa.  Wesley, if he remembered the name correctly.  The crowd quieted, allowing the Englishman's voice to ring clearly through the room.

Midway through the song, Methos noticed Angel had begun to hum along with Wesley, and when they reached the chorus, his voice joined in with Wesley's, providing harmony.  He didn't sing loud, but loud enough so that Methos and a few others could hear him clearly, the notes drawing them into the music.

As soon as they finished, the crowd applauded, and then continued in their chatter as if nothing had disturbed their partying.

Cordelia stepped around the corner, and glared at Angel.  "I thought I told you to mingle."

Smiling in a child-like manner, Angel proudly announced, "I have been.  I'll have you know that Adam," swinging his arm around Methos' shoulder, "and I have been doing a lot of mingling with each other."  Waving his hand around, which still had the mug half full of the liquored nog, "Nooooooo black hole of despair here," shaking his head for added emphasis.

Cordelia studied him a moment longer, then broke out into a big smile.  "Good.  Then you won't mind following through a Christmas tradition."

Angel looked at her nervously.  "What?"

The young woman simply pointed up.  "You do know what that is, don't you?"

Angel looked up, losing his balance in the process, only to be grabbed by Methos, who held him straight.

"Uh oh."  Shaking his head vigorously, "I can't Cordy.  Remember how you got the last time I got..."

"Not me."  She looked towards Methos.  "If you don't mind?"

Methos laughed, and faced Angel.  "My pleasure."  Before the younger man knew what was happening, Methos was fulfilling the tradition of the mistletoe by giving Angel a sound, yet chaste kiss.  Before he finished, he heard the whir of a camera, and saw the flash of the accompanying bulb.

"Thank you, Adam." Cordelia sang before disappearing.

"I think she's got blackmail material on you, now."

Angel's eyes, which had been slightly glazed from alcohol, darkened and became incredibly focused.  "Who cares?"  He moved his head towards the other man, his intention clear, but the motion slow enough that Methos could stop it before it was too late.  When it became evident that his actions wouldn't be refused,  he grabbed Methos behind the head, and pulled him into a deep penetrating kiss.

He felt hands first rest on his hips, then slide their way up his back.  As the kiss continued, the older man maneuvered them deeper into the nook, away from any prying eyes.

As the kiss ended, Angel relaxed into the other man's embrace, burying his face into Adam's hair, taking a deep unneeded breath.  Angel was immediately hit with a remembrance of his childhood.  He couldn't place the smell but associated it with pleasant memories - of picnics on the beach, days playing in the fields, winters sitting by the fire listening to stories of far off lands, and times long-gone.

Angel felt a certain warmth envelope him from within.  With stunned shock, he realized he felt safe.  Very safe.  And safe was something he hadn't felt since his first death.

Methos pulled away so he could look into Angel's eyes.  "So, tell me.  Is this place just an investigative office, or are any of the rooms serviceable?"

A grin was his answer as Angel took his hand and led him through the party, through the kitchen to a back staircase leading them to the first floor of rooms.  Once they reached Angel's suite, and the door was closed behind them, and Methos watched as Angel stood fidgeting at the foot of the bed, almost lost in what he should do next.

"Can I get you anything?" Angel asked nervously.

"Right now, you're the only thing I'm interested in."

"Oh."  A slow seductive smile appeared, melting away the previous nervousness.  As he moved forward, almost stalking the immortal, he pulled his shirt from his pants, and unbuttoned the cuffs at his wrists.  The man moved seductively, a lustful look simmered from within him.

Reaching for Methos' face, Angel's fingers whispered along the contours of his cheek, reaching his mouth. Even though the touch felt cool to Methos, the trail it left behind burned.  Applying a little more pressure, Angel ran his thumb over Methos' lower lip, the pressure pulling it slightly open.  Moaning, Methos' darted his tongue out, mingling it with the invading digit, tempting it into his mouth.

Moving down, Angel allowed his fingers to glide along the front of the other's shirt, the pressure barely enough to feel.  Methos shivered at the sheer intensity of the simple act.

Lifting his own hands, he began the process of unbuttoning Angel's shirt, ghosting his fingers along the bare skin as it appeared.  Once the shirt was open, Methos gave it a little push, causing the silk material to slip down long muscular arms, falling to the floor.

Leaning forward, the two men began to kiss, the touch gentle.  Methos felt hands at his waist, lifting his sweater.  The pull was persistent enough, he had to leave the intoxicating mouth so that Angel could pull his shirt fully off, dropping it to the floor alongside the other.

Feeling the need building, Angel toed his shoes off while Methos quickly leaned down and untied his boots, his eyes never leaving Angel's.  Standing, he allowed his hands to glide along the long legs before settling at the waistband of Angel's pants.  Unfastening them, he pushed the pants and silk boxers down.

His eyes consumed the vision before him, marveling at the ivory skin stretched over strong toned muscles, as if his companion was carved out of marble.

Angel reached forward, taking hold of Methos, drawing him closer.  With a quick jerk, his jeans were opened, and laying at his feet.

Stepping back to the bed, Angel laid down, pulling Methos with him.  The press of bodies surprised Methos.  Where his body seemed to burn from anticipation, Angel's body was cool to the touch, and yet, where ever skin touched, Methos felt himself consumed, adding to his already painful arousal.

Angel leaned forward, reaching for the other's mouth, moving the seduction to a higher level with a breath consuming kiss.

The moment overwhelmed Angel.  It had been so long since he had felt the strong body of another man moving seductively below him, and even then, it was Angelus who had the experience, not Angel.  The only person the souled vampire had been with was Buffy, and if he ignored the one day which had been erased, he had only been with her once, and that was years ago.

He still cringed at what happened because of that one action.  So many people had suffered because of one night's passion.  To avoid that from happening again, Angel would remain in control this night.

He would enjoy wanting someone and bask in the knowledge that he was desired in return.  Tonight, he would have someone to hold as he fell asleep, and if he read Adam correctly, he would not wake alone.

Pulling back from the kiss, he spread Adam's arms above him, pinning them to the bed with a little push.  Reaching over, he fumbled for the items he had snatched in the rush through the kitchen, his hand grabbing the can of whipped cream.

Slowly, he began to apply the confectionery along the body before him, drawing white lines along various contours and leaving cold dabs on the taut nipples.  He finished with a healthy dollop along the other man's erection.

As the cream began to slowly warm to Methos' body, he felt the drizzle of something else being added.

Opening his eyes, he was drawn into watching the concentration Angel was putting into what he was doing.  Methos had felt that the whipped cream had been applied to the natural lines of his body - but the chocolate syrup?  It seemed to be done in a random pattern.  Evidently, he was wrong by the look on Angel's face - the chocolate was being used for something else.

Before he could ask, Angel stopped, tossing the bottle of syrup aside.  Smiling at whatever he had done, Angel lowered his face and began licking.

Methos groaned as he felt Angel's tongue begin to lap at the mess spread over his body.  Long sensual strokes were made, covering every inch of his body, ensuring that every part of sweetness was removed.

Several times, Methos reached to touch Angel only to have that maddening tongue pulled away, Angel moving out of reach.  Realizing his role was to simply lay there and enjoy what was being done, Methos stretched out and suffered the sensual torture.

Angel could hear the erratic beat of Adam's heart as he dragged his tongue over one of the rosy buds, telling him how close the human was to climaxing.  Adam arched into the movement, demanding more, while whimpering, "Please touch me."

Moving back, Angel surveyed his palette.  The cream and chocolate had been completely removed from Adam's body for the exception of one place.  The heat of his lover's erection had caused the whipped topping to melt, leaving a film of creamed sugar and chocolate over the throbbing cock.

As the beating of Adam's heart became steady again, Angel moved in, and took Adam's erection into his mouth, moving his tongue along the length, removing all the sugary goodness, but gone before Methos could come.

Satisfied that Adam was appropriately cleaned, Angel crawled up the body, and laid on his side, hovering his mouth over the other man's.  Small, incoherent sounds were coming from Adam as he begged to be allowed to come.  Leaning down, Angel took his mouth with his own.

Running his hand down the muscular body, Angel toyed with a nipple on the way, giving it a little pinch.  His touch was light and feathery.  Adam again arched up, trying to attain more contact, groaning into Angel's mouth as he tried.  Finally his hand reached its destination and took hold of the hardened cock.

Running his fingers over the straining erection, Angel traced the throbbing vein, the flow of blood calling out to him.  Moving his mouth to Methos' neck, he licked the pulsing vein at the juncture of the neck and shoulder.  Realizing that he was losing control, his features straining to change, he pulled back, resting his head on Adam's chest.

Regaining control, he smiled at the distressed man below him, stroking him leisurely, teasing him even more.  Hips rose to the touch and tried to set a rhythm, but Angel ignored it, moving his hand at his own pace.

Kissing Adam again, his tongue moving in unison with his hand, he set a steady pace, slowly increasing it.  As he felt his lover losing control, Angel increased his kiss, denying Adam the opportunity to breathe at will, increasing his excitement.  With his tongue and hand he created a demanding pace, forcing Adam to climax.

Drawing breath in, Adam collapsed back onto the bed, his eyes closed.  Angel took the opportunity to get up, and head to the bathroom where he ran water to wet a towel down.  Standing before the sink, he concentrated on many things, willing his own erection to diminish.  Ultimately, it was the thought of things done to those he cared about while being Angelus that killed his arousal.  With a final sigh, he headed back to the bed, where he languidly cleaned Adam, before tossing the towel aside.

Curling up to the other man, Angel covered them both, and settled into a pleasant sleep.

*****

buh-bum buh-bum buh-bum buh-bum

Angel slowly woke, mesmerized by the rhythmic sound of a beating heart.  Opening his eyes, he could see that he had curled himself around Adam - his head resting on the human's chest, his ear drawing in the sound of life.  He found contentment with this man and a happiness he could not remember experiencing in a long time... like he was coming home.

"Sleep well?"

The voice was thick, rich, and oh so familiar that it settled deep into Angel's soul, taming even the demon within him.

Yawning, he turned his head, rubbing his scalp into the hand stroking his hair, and looked into Adam's amused eyes.

"Actually, yes."

Methos leaned over and kissed him, tracing the pale lips with his tongue before delving into the cool depths of Angel's mouth.

Separating, Angel blinked a few times before asking, "Are you hungry?  I'm told I make a decent breakfast."

"I'm a firm believer in food.  Especially when someone else is paying."

Laughing, Angel pulled away from Adam's arms, immediately wanting to crawl back.  Running his hand through his hair, he looked back to see Adam shifting off the bed and beginning to dress.

"I'm going to go check on a few things first."  Gesturing towards the door, "Why don't you head on down and get the coffee started."

*****

Methos walked down the back staircase which led to the kitchen.  As he walked in, he was surprised to see Cordelia standing there, pouring a cup of coffee.

"Hey you.  We wondered where you disappeared to last night."

Suddenly she stopped, her posture becoming rigid as she looked at Methos, and then where he had come from.

Forcing a smile she looked back to Methos.  "Did you spend the night here?"

Methos poured himself a cup of coffee.  "Um hmm."

"With Angel?"

He studied her over the rim of his cup, raising a brow, daring her to either make an assumption, or ask for more details.

"Okay."  She responded a little too cheerfully.  "Is Angel awake yet?"

"He should be right down."

"Right.  Well... I need to go do something.  I'll be right back."

The young woman rushed from the room.

Methos settled into a chair, positioned so that he could view the entire room.  Slipping down, his legs stretched before him, he relaxed into the boneless sprawl he had mastered a long time ago.

Angel appeared before him a moment later, studying the way he was sitting before leaning down to give him a quick kiss.

"That was quick.  I expected the coffee to take longer to make."

"It was already made.  Cordelia is still here."

Angel nodded.  "Hopefully picking up after her party."  Opening the refrigerator, he rummaged around, pulling out various items, blindly placing them on the counter behind him.  When he turned around, he was not surprised to see Cordelia, Wes and Gunn standing in the doorway.  What did surprise him was that each stood defensively, their arms held behind their backs.

"Did you enjoy yourself last night?"

Hesitating, Angel smiled at Cordelia before answering, "It was a great party, Cordelia.  I really enjoyed myself."

"I think what Cordelia is trying to ask is..." Wesley said, his eyes darting to Adam, then back, "is if you..." His voice trailing off.

Angel looked at his three friends, then to Adam.  Realizing what was being asked, "Nothing to worry about.  I'm still me."

The three at the door relaxed, where as Adam appeared to be confused and curious.  Deciding not to answer Adam's unasked questions, he held up an egg.  "Want breakfast?"

Cordelia, who had placed her stake, cross, and bottle of holy water on a counter in the hallway, rushed to the table and sat across from Adam.  "I thought you would never ask."

Wesley covertly picked up Cordelia's supplies, adding them to his own.  "That would be much appreciated, Angel.  Let me put some things away, and I'll be right back."

Gunn shook his head.  "As much as I like your eggs, man, I need to get back."

Angel gave a half wave before concentrating on the meal he was preparing, pulling out various herbs and spices from the cabinets.

As he broke open a number of eggs, he listened to Cordelia as she laid on the charm and began her interrogation of Adam.  Raising his eyes briefly, he could tell that Adam knew exactly what was happening, and found the entire situation amusing.

Angel listened to the discussion without really hearing it, trying to focus on the meal he was preparing.  Unconsciously, his eyes kept drifting to the man lounging in the chair across the kitchen from him.  After the fourth time, Adam caught Angel watching him, and gave the younger man a wink and a smile.  Angel knew he had a dopey grin on his face.

Finally finishing the meal, Angel set three plates on the table before sitting down himself.

Adam had his fork half way to his mouth when he noticed that Angel hadn't fixed anything for himself.

"Aren't you having any?"

Angel searched his mind for some possible explanation, only to be rescued by Cordelia.

"Ignore him.  He doesn't eat breakfast.  I don't know how many times he's fixed us something without taking a bite himself.  And it's such a shame, he really knows how to fix this meal.  You'd think he'd at least enjoy it."

Adam thought about it a moment, then started laughing.  "I take it you do not fix other meals?"

Smiling back, Angel replied, "Eggs.  I know how to fix eggs."

Seemingly satisfied with the conversation, Adam began to eat.  "This really is quite good, Angel."  His eyes taking on a far off look as he seemed to be remembering something.  "It's funny, but I knew someone a long time ago who made eggs this way.  Where did you get your recipe?"

"My mother taught me, much to the horror of my father.  I loved getting up in the mornings so I could spend time alone with her.  We spent it in the kitchen while she fixed a healthy meal for my father, and as I got older, the rest of the family."

Angel was then lost in his thoughts.  Methos looked around the table, and saw that not only had Cordelia stopped eating, but so had Wesley - both caught up in the snapshot of his life that Angel had painted for them.

Deciding that Angel probably didn't usually provide too much background on himself, Methos decided to take advantage of the moment.

"Where did you grow up?"

"Galway."  A sad look overcame Angel's features as he returned to the present.  "But I haven't been there in a long time."  Without seeming to realize it, he continued, "Some of my best memories are there, as well as some of my worst."

Realizing that this was probably as much as he would get from the younger man, Methos simply nodded, and returned to his eating.

After a few moments of silence, he looked up at Cordelia.  "That was a nice party you had last night."

The young woman glowed at the compliment.  "Yes.  This one was much better than the last."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Wesley piped in.  "I still think the last one was quite the soiree."

Cordelia's only response was a, 'Pffffft' as she looked at Angel, who simply shrugged his shoulders.

"I keep telling you, I'm no good at parties."

Methos laughed again.  "I don't know.  Once you started drinking that eggnog, you seemed to come quite to life.  And by the way, you have a lovely singing voice."

Methos quickly looked over at the two choking sounds coming from across the table.

"Excuse me?"  Cordelia looked at Methos as if he had just grown a second head.  "Angel has a..."  She stopped and looked at Angel, who was almost glaring at her.  "Well, let's just say, he doesn't like to sing."

"It's a shame you didn't hear him last night.  When Wesley sang Silent Night, Angel joined in, singing harmony midway through.  I'll admit it wasn't very loud, but I could hear it quite clearly.  It was lovely to listen to."

Realizing Wesley had sung right before the mistletoe incident, Cordelia started laughing.  Turning to Wesley, "Next time we need information from that psychic karioke guy, we get Angel drunk first."

"So that's the trick, is it?"  Wesley looked at Angel, who was on the verge of glowering, but not quite there... yet.  "Well, anything for a good cause."

To avoid Angel becoming any more irritated, Methos changed the subject.  "Cordelia.  The eggnog was quite delicious.  What exactly was put into it?"

"You mean the spiked version?"  Methos nodded.  "I haven't a clue.  I think Jordan did that.  He seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time around that table last night...  Also saw him handing Maria quite a few glasses.  He is going to be so dead today when she wakes up with a hangover."

"I think it was Irish whiskey."

Methos looked to Angel, and nodded.  "I think you're right."  Pleased to see the smile return to Angel's face, he continued, "But if you want to truly make me a happy man, one most have a healthy supply of beer, the elixir of the gods."

Angel heard the words, and as they sunk into him, he remembered a time from his childhood, when he was eight, maybe nine, sitting around the fire with his father and a friend of the family.  Angel remembered he was leaning against the chair of the friend, while the man ran his hand through his hair, soothing him to sleep.

His father was holding up a glass of whiskey, the fire dancing through the amber liquid with burning intensity.

"Benjiman, there is nothing better than a good glass of Irish whiskey."  He could hear his father's voice as clear as if the man was sitting across from him now at the kitchen table.  The voice ringing of authority, that brooked no argument.

But the man Angel had been leaning against simply laughed.  It was a warm, rich laugh of a man who saw humor in much he saw around him.  "I don't know if I'd agree.  Through out my life, I have found the answer to be beer, the elixir of the gods."  And this man was sitting across the kitchen table from him.

Angel looked up at Adam, confused by what he saw.  It all became clear to him - the face, the voice, the smell, the sprawl.  This was... "Unca Benjiman?"  He said in a slightly small voice which he had not heard coming from himself in over 250 years.

All humor left Methos as he heard those two words.  In his long life, only one person ever called him that name.  A child for whom he had great affection.  A child who received so little love and attention from his own father, that when Methos showed him any, the child clung to him.

A child who witnessed his murder over 250 years ago.

Methos looked at Angel and saw the eyes of ... "Liam?"

The End.
 

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