Title: The Angelus And Methos Christmas Special

Author: Carole

Author's Email: kronos999@yahoo.ca

Author's Website : kronos999.homestead.com

Keywords: Angel/Highlander Xover, Humor

Pairings: Angelus/Methos

Characters: Angelus, Cordelia, Wesley, Gunn, Methos

Rating: R

Warnings: Implied slash, some violence

Archive : If you want it, let me know so I know where its going.

Summary : Angelus must put up with the gang's attempts to cheer him up at Christmas without revealing his true identity. Written to the specifications of the AngelXoverSlash Xmas contest.

Disclaimers: They aren't mine. I can wish. Angelus and crew belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Methos lets R:P/D think that they own him.

Author's Notes: This is only my second fic, at least that is longer than a page, so I would like to thank both Killaria and Theresa for betaing. They did an amazing job and all remaining mistakes are my own. And thanks to Horton's Second Cousin for listening to me babble on while trying to get this story straight. I apologize if you recieve double postings.

*...* around a sentence denotes thoughts. *...* around a word denotes emphasis.

THERE IS NO CHARACTER DEATH! Please remember this as you read, no matter how things may seem at the time.

"Is it just me, or has Angel been acting a little strange lately?"

"Strange? What do you mean exactly?" Wesley replied. Cordelia was up to something, he knew that already. The slightly over dramatized concern was obvious in her voice. Not that her concern wasn't real, it probably was, but he knew with clear and utter certainty - the kind that assured you that a family member who doesn't really like you that much is going to send you the fruitcake that you gave them last year as a gift type of certainty - that she was going to wheedle and coax him into doing something for her. *Bloody hell, it's the day before Christmas. I *might* have plans,* he thought.

"He's been acting dark, broody, you know..."

"Since when is that unusual?"

"Well, broodier then normal. *And* then there's the strange hours he's been keeping."

"Strange? He's a vampire. Strange hours are what they do."

"Do I get a sense that you have no concern whatsoever about what could happen to him?" She smiled and Wesley knew that she was about to play her trump card. "I will say two words: Paid vacation. He actually offered us paid vacation! Not that I mind, but he seemed in such a hurry to get rid of us. Right now he could be suiciding on some demon that he's decided to fight all by himself and we'd never know."

"Wouldn't you have had a vision about something like that?" Wesley responded dissmissively. He assumed that the Powers That Be would let Cordelia know if their Champion was in any danger. It only made sense, after all. Then again, do the Powers ever really make much sense? "I thought he was being a nice guy by letting us off for a few days until we were needed."

"Maybe he wouldn't tell us that we were needed until it was too late. Right now he's probably sitting in that hotel alone, feeling unloved. It's Christmas and he hasn't got a soul in the world that cares enough to visit him. No family, since he killed them all, and no friends really. While he may be a nice guy, since when does he have the money to pay for us to take time off?"

Wesley shook his head. There was no stopping Cordelia when she got an idea in her head. "What do you want me to do?" he asked in a resigned tone.

"I knew you'd see things my way. I thought we'd go and cheer him up; get some Christmas-like things, decorate the lobby, sing carols, do generally cheery stuff and make sure he has no thoughts about placing himself in the way of certain death."

*It might be our certain deaths,* Wesley thought to himself tiredly. "And?" he asked, knowing there had to be something more.

"Well, we kinda need the Christmas supplies to do the decorating. So you're going to come with me and we'll go and buy some somewhere and..."

"Why do you need me?"

"Um, I need a man's opinion. I supposed that you would qualify in a pinch. If I'm wrong - well, we don't need to go into that."

"I know you're not doing this just for the pleasure of my company or for my opinion. You don't have much cash do you? You're just trying to drag me along to foot the bill! There is no way I'm doing this so you can spare your wallet!"

"I have some. Enough to split the bill, especially with the last minute bargains." She glared at him, then stared at her feet. "Fine, the real reason that I need you to go with me is that I don't know what to get Angel as a present. I could really use your advice." The next look she sent could have shattered glass. "The only present that comes to mind for him is a paint set."

Wesley choked. Cordelia ignored him. He coughed several times trying to regain his composure. Realizing that he could drop dead and no help from Cordelia would be forthcoming, he looked at her in disgust. "Yes, um, I'm fine," he assured her, somewhat sarcastically.

"So, are we going already?" Cordelia replied nonchalantly. What did she care if Wesley choked to death? As long as he got himself to the mall - dead, alive - it was all the same to her.

***

Angelus looked down at the sleeping form lying in his bed, mimicking the perfection of a marble statue. *Someone is a bit worn out,* he thought with a grin. Still, there was much to be said for immortal stamina, even if it couldn't outlast a vampire.

He stood, stretched and walked to the shower. So far he'd had a week of soulless bliss and no one was the wiser. For a few days he'd waited anxiously for a vision to come and warn Cordelia, but nothing had happened. It seemed that even the Powers could be fooled with the proper pretense. This time he wasn't going to get caught in the act. No torn out hearts, no envelopes containing dead goldfish, no posing and mocking his ex-friends while acting evil and menacing .

This time he was going to achieve his goals, then mock them. Put bluntly, hell sucked, and there was no way he was going to get sent back there if he could help it. Angelus had never been accused of stupidity; he could learn from his mistakes, especially when pressed by necessity and circumstance.

Oh, and such pleasant circumstances! In less than five years, Angel, his Soul-Boy alter-ego, had managed to lose his soul twice. Angelus knew that he would have to keep his "friends" in the dark this time; he had to act broody and guilt-ridden, say some regular Angel-type stuff to keep up the pretense. *And* refrain from killing them, at least until the little ex-Watcher could tell him about the location of certain relics that could serve his purpose. The Scourge of North America didn't have the same ring as the Scourge of Europe, but getting there could be fun.

He let the warm water caress his skin like Methos had been doing a little while before and thought of how things had gotten to this point. It had started three weeks ago when his goody two shoes alter ego had rescued a seemingly poor and hapless student. Who would have thought that as a thank you Angel would let the student take him out for a drink? And that they'd keep meeting and talking? And that Angel would fall in love?

***

Wesley held in a sigh and muttered phrases under his breath that didn't bear repeating in front of an audience. This seemed to be the thousandth store they had visited and it turned out that he was, apparently, Cordelia's personal shopping cart. At least they had already found the tree - a scraggly, pathetic looking specimen that had been really cheap simply because no one else had even considered buying it.

"Ooohh! What do you think?" Cordelia held the item up for his inspection. So far, every time she had asked his opinion she hadn't listened to a word he had said, but this time he just had to put in his two cents.

"No way. You are not serious. Please tell me you're not serious."

"But they're so cute! And cheery - we can't forget cheery. They even blink in time to the music."

The box of singing Christmas lights blinked at Wesley, as if it were daring him to try to convince Cordelia that, no, Angel wouldn't be terribly happy to have them arranged all over the hotel. More likely the lights would drive Angel into a homicidal rage, as they would do to anyone who listened to the annoying singing for extended periods of time.

"I'm not sure that we can afford them." There, that was a reasonable argument. Wesley resisted the urge to rub his temples and pinch the bridge of his nose. It wasn't that difficult to resist, especially since his hands were full of bags of cheery, if slightly defective, Christmas decorations.

***

Angel had been so careful. He just couldn't seem to stop himself and, although he had always meant to say no, he ended up seeing Adam again. And again. And again. Despite the obvious interest on both sides, Soul-Boy had ignored the possibility of a relationship after what happened with Buffy. Wouldn't want to be happy, now would we? All of his good intentions were gone in a single moment of absolute acceptance.

Angel couldn't avoid telling Adam the truth. He had to let him know what he was, what he'd done. Adam hadn't even blinked. Instead, he'd held Angel closer and confessed to crimes more ancient than Angel had even thought possible. Adam had even trusted him with his true identity. Methos. A 5000 year old immortal. They'd only just met, but it was almost like destiny and the cliche of love at first sight. Or first demon. Whatever. And, just for an instant, Angel had been happy about that trust; that someone actually cared for him with no reservations.

"Are you okay?" Adam, or rather Methos, had asked in concern when Angel had clutched at his head in pain.

"Fine," Angelus had answered leaning even closer to his companion. A wiser and more devious Angelus than before had been freed and this Angelus wasn't going to waste the opportunity to exploit five thousand years of willing experience.

***

"Wesley, stop whining. We only have to get one more thing, then we're done."

"That's what you said three stores ago."

"It's a tough decision. Angel's difficult to buy for. That's why I brought you along."

Wesley was doubtful, but he kept his mouth shut. He suspected that his true purpose was to cart everything around as Cordelia darted from store to store like a hummingbird in a flower garden. He attempted to straighten himself without dropping a load of Christmas decorations that was so large, it would have made Saint Nicholas proud.

/Crash/

"Ouch ...," Wesley exclaimed in pain. He continued to mutter things about the parentage and the sexual habits of the plastic mistletoe that had fallen out of the bag and caused him to trip. He barely resisted the urge to get up and grind the damn thing into the floor.

"Wesley! Are the decorations alright?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Wesley answered sarcastically. "I think I've pulled a muscle in my back. Give me a second." v Amazingly enough, he felt better already. It might have been due to the fact that the Christmas supplies were scattered all over the floor.

***

Angelus deepened the kiss as Methos opened his eyes and moaned greedily.

"Not as tired as I thought, are you?"

"With you, never." A hand reached around Angelus and pulled him down.

***

"I can't believe you dropped everything! Did you see the way everyone was looking at us?"

Wesley ignored the commentary. He'd been forced to endure Cordelia's prattle since he had retrieved all the items that had tumbled to the floor. Unfortunately, the singing lights had survived the impact and so had the can of fake snow, though it was dented from where he had fallen on it.

Cordelia's voice broke off suddenly. "That's it. It's perfect. It's happy, it's cheery..."

Wesley stared in horror. She couldn't seriously be considering *that* as a present. Cordelia noticed his unbelieving gaze.

"Well, what else can we get him? Toe socks?" Cordelia asked him in consternation.

"Actually, that would be a fairly reasonable idea. I've heard that a vampire's feet can get quite chilled when they're out fighting the forces of evil..."

***

"Angel! We know you're up there." The voice was faint, having to pass through the walls and over the sound of the shower running.

Angelus should have known that something like this was going to happen. He supposed that the best thing to do would be to get rid of his annoying visitors quickly. He had a lot of *plans* for today and it was annoying to have them interrupted.

The pounding at the door would have to be Cordelia. He considered going out and ripping her head off in the joyous holiday spirit, but realized that the gratuitous violence would make Wesley slightly suspicious. *Perhaps if I ignore them, they'll go away,* he thought to himself tiredly.

The noise ceased momentarily as both the pounding and the shower ended simultaneously. But then Cordelia's unique voice pierced the silence. "If I have to hold you at stakepoint, I'm going to cheer you up. I know you're in there! I heard the water running!" There was a few more minutes of near absolute quiet, but for the rustling of towels.

"It's Christmas Eve, Angel. You're not allowed to sit in there by yourself and brood." That was all the warning Angelus had before the door to his room was opened, and in came Cordelia on a mission. At just the same moment, Methos exited the bathroom wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. Cordelia saw him and blinked in astonishment.

"Oh." She blinked again and repeated the syllable. This obviously had not been what she was expecting.

***

"Angel! We know you're up there." Cordelia walked up the stairs resolutely with Wesley close behind her. She knocked loudly on the door, hoping that Angel would get the hint and get out of the shower. She stopped knocking when the water stopped running and waited, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Even if I have to hold you at stakepoint, I'm going to cheer you up. I know you're in there! I heard the water running!"

There was no answer. She just knew his plan was to keep quiet in the hope that she would leave. But there was no way she was going to let all of her hard work go to waste. "It's Christmas Eve, Angel," Cordelia called out. "You're not allowed to sit in there by yourself and brood."

Wesley stepped back, unconsciously trying to get away from the imagined wraith of the man behind the door. Cordelia jiggled the doorknob. The door was unlocked, so she opened it and stepped inside.

Angel was standing in the middle of the room, glaring at her in an almost menacing way. Then, out of the bathroom walked a half-naked, wet, well-muscled man. It was the guy she had seen in her vision a few weeks back. He definitely looked better without that sweater he had been wearing. Her thoughts raced. There was no way that this was what she thought it was.

"Oh," she muttered in confusion. Angel? Gay? She couldn't help but blink to see if her eyes were deceiving her. "Oh." Well, she had spent the entire morning with Wesley, going from store to store for Angel's sake. There was no way that this turn of events was going to stop her.

"Well," she swallowed, then gathered her composure, "I have spent the entire morning searching for the perfect thing to cheer you up. I have been picturing you here all by yourself, lonely and suicidal and here you are hardly either. How could you? Don't you dare start being happy. I even went to Walmart. Walmart! Me! YOU let me think that you were depressed and the whole time you were just fooling around on the side. Couldn't have dropped any hints, like, 'Oh, don't visit me on Christmas, I'm having someone over'. So, this is all your fault." She brandished the nutcracker that somehow found its way into her hand threateningly.

***

After the slightly confused speech from Cordelia, Angelus promptly found his life threatened by a woman with a nutcracker - that is, before she sweetly turned to Methos and invited him along for whatever it was that she had planned. Angelus suspected that this was going to be a very long day. Good thing they couldn't make him go caroling or anything, since the daylight would turn him into a rather toasted vampire.

At least she hadn't tried to stake him. Death by nutcracker would be rather embarrassing. He paused by the door for as long as possible before following Methos downstairs. There was no sense tempting himself with opportunities to do away with them any more than he had to.

His first thought upon viewing the lobby was, *Gods, that's the ugliest tree I've ever seen.* It was in a corner, held upright by some very creative maneuvering of furniture and boxes. Methos was very carefully helping to string lights around it so that it wouldn't collapse on him.

"There, I think that's got it," he heard the ancient say. Cordelia plugged the lights in with a flourish and they immediately began to blink and emit high pitched noises meant to resemble carols. The noise caused Angelus to grind his teeth. His first instinct was to rip the tree up and destroy the source of his pain, but settled for Wesley quickly pulling the plug .

"Now what we really need is some snow." Cordelia pulled out a slightly dented canister as he walked closer.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? I don't know if that stuff is meant to be used on Christmas trees. Isn't it meant for windows?" Wesley's comments fell on deaf ears, and everyone removed themselves from Cordelia's path as soon as they possibly could.

Cordelia began a slightly muddled version of Oh, Christmas Tree, occasionally mixing up the words as she continued to spray.

"Oh, Christmas tree. Oh Christmas tree.. Um..how does it go again..Your beauty lasts forever... Well, isn't anyone going to help me sing?" she asked indignantly.

Everyone reluctantly began to sing. Or at least Wesley and Angelus started; Methos simply started laughing. The trio glared at him.

"What?" he asked disingenuously.

"Do I get the idea that you don't like our singing?" Angelus asked.

"Not at all. I find if very amusing."

Wesley glared. "Angel, where did you pick up this oh so *amusing* fellow?"

*Oh, Angel, you have to be the one to put the angel on the top.* The sarcasm was obvious, even in mental commentary. Angelus balanced himself precariously on the chair, attempting to avoid the tree "stand" and the excessively used fake snow. *Snow? Who needs snow?

Wait, almost got it. I'm going to kill her slowly and painfully. Or, perhaps quickly and immediately, or at least as soon as I get off this damn thing.* He carefully placed the slightly beaten angel on the top bough. *There. Done.* His mission accomplished, he began to step down as the triumphant group plugged in the lights. Unfortunately, the cord tried its best to move through his improvised step ladder on its journey.

The next thing Angelus knew, a mixture of branches and blinking colours was dancing before his eyes. He was in pain, as well, from said branches and crushed decorations. He rolled away from the debris of what had been the tree--using the term loosely--and attempted to get up. The first thing he noticed was that getting up was impossible because he was now tied up in the lights; the second thing was that the lights were still on and singing, and that he had fake snow in his mouth.

"Pwahhh! Thwoo!" He spit out the foul-tasting stuff as fast as possible and struggled against his confinement. That only succeeded in making it worse. It was then that he looked up to see his companions whose expressions were vacillating between concern and laughter. Even Methos was trying hard to keep a straight face.

*That bastard! I will kill them all. Including him. I don't need them, I don't need him, even if the sex is good! Okay, the sex is great, but...*

"Damn it. Get these things off of me." Angelus struggled furiously with the lights. His sometime companions merely stared at him impassively. Finally Wesley had the decency to unplug the bloody things.

Methos knelt down to help untangle him, but then, instead, whispered in his ear, "Maybe I like you tied up." Angelus growled at him in response.

***

He'd brushed his teeth three times already and the taste was still there. The manufacturers of this foul, white excuse for a Christmas rip-off were going to find themselves and their families mounted on his wall when his plans were complete. The idea was a very pleasing one. Of course, he wasn't keeping a list or anything, but he made a mental note to remember this for later.

Wesley's voiced drifted in his direction. "Angel, Gunn's here."

Wonderful. Now there was another one to deal with. Gunn? Angelus wondered what Cordelia had planned next. They appeared to be on a schedule, especially given the way he'd been yelled at to hurry.

*I think I'll keep her tongue as a souvenir.*

His jaw almost dropped when he saw Gunn, the big, bad vampire hunter. He was dressed in red and green. With a pointed hat. And belled shoes. Belled shoes? Gunn the elf was not something he had been expecting to see. If Angelus had needed to breathe, he would have choked. From Gunn's expression, he clearly wasn't too happy about his attire either. The look he directed in Angelus' direction dared him to make some snide comment about the outfit.

As if Angelus would let this opportunity pass him by. "Well, Merry Christmas, Twinkle Toes," he said in vicious amusement.

There, that wasn't too out of character, was it? Not what Angelus would really like to be doing, but fortune only knocks occasionally and usually in unexpected ways.

"'Tis the season, Santa Claus," replied Gunn, full of hidden knowledge.

Santa Claus? Angelus threw a questioning look in Cordelia's direction.

"I thought we'd go down and cheer up some sick kids so I managed to get someone here," she bestowed a glowing smile on Gunn, "to find us some costumes. The arrangements have already been made. Here's yours."

She held out the red material and Angelus continued to stare at her. Some of his true nature must have shown in his eyes because Cordelia actually backed up a step.

"But, on second thought, Wesley might be a better choice." The ex-Watcher found the outfit shoved into his arms violently. "You even have glasses."

"Yes, well, if you insist." The ex-Watcher was staring also.

Angelus attempted to reign in his happy, if bloodthirsty, thoughts. *You've made it through the tree and the Christmas caroling and you can make it through this - even if it kills them.*

***

They had finally made it back to the hotel. It was almost enough to make him rethink his plan. *Maybe instead of becoming the Scourge of North America, I should become a dentist. They cause pain and get paid for it. At least I wouldn't have to keep these oh so happy "friends" of mine alive.*

The trip had not gone well for Angelus, even after trading the Santa outfit for the belled hat. No one had suggested that he put on the rest of the suit and that fact had probably saved their lives. If he saw even one more candy cane during the rest of his unlife he was going to go and destroy the entire human race--just to eliminate Christmas. It was overrated anyway.

"Time to open the presents," Cordelia called out cheerily. It wasn't morning yet, but who would want to argue with Cordelia?

Angelus seated himself and stared at the small pile of wrapped gifts. Since there was no tree, they had been piled on the counter and Cordelia proceeded to hand them out.

***

*'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the hotel, not a creature was stirring, not even Cordelia - at least, not anymore.*

"Angel!"

Angelus blinked in surprise. His effort to tone out the gift-giving had succeeded too well. Cordelia was holding out a large box wrapped in red. He hadn't seen it before they'd left for the hospital. Strange. Then he noticed that it was moving. Angelus felt that a moving box was never a good sign unless, of course, he was the one giving it. The fact that it was moving could mean all sorts of nasty things were inside of it and, while this normally wouldn't be a bad thing, most often these nasty things had been trying to do away with him.

"You wouldn't believe how long we searched for the perfect gift. And then we saw him. You're going to love it." She smiled encouragingly and gestured for him to open the package. "Now you won't have an excuse about being lonely and broody."

He picked up the object. Wesley grabbed his arm before he brought the box up to his ear to shake. Then he smelled it. They wouldn't have. He tore open the paper and ripped open the lid.

A puppy jumped on him in one happy bound and licked his nose. Angelus hated dogs. *This is the final straw! I don't care. I can find the bloody relics on my own without the help of that damned ex-Watcher! I was a scourge once and I don't need any stupid mortals to be one again.*

The dog actually caught on quicker than most of the room's other occupants and jumped out of his grasp before he could break its scrawny little neck. Cordelia wasn't so fortunate. He grabbed her hair and before anyone could react, he shoved the wrapping paper down her throat, shutting her up like he'd been wanting to all day. Meanwhile, the puppy hid in the pile of the Christmas tree remains and whimpered. Unlife was good.

***

*The heads were mounted on the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there*

Angelus managed to arrange the heads artfully. It had taken a while but he'd finally found some stakes, appropriately enough, to stick them on. Cordelia in the middle with the wrapping paper still in her mouth with Wesley and Gunn on each side. It gave him a warm and fuzzy feeling inside to see that he hadn't lost his touch. As a personal reward, he'd added a few Christmas stockings filled with such objects as fingers and toes. It certainly gave the place a festive air.

***

*Methos was chained up all snug in Angelus' bed, while visions of, well, you know, danced in his head. And the ancient was unclothed, and Angelus was in leather, just goes to prove that the vamp'd reached his tether*

Methos looked very nice like this, Angelus thought. Of course, the gag would have to come out later. It was no fun otherwise.

"Who likes who tied up now?" The question was rhetorical since trying to speak through the gag would have been an exercise in futility. Angelus wasn't going to kill Methos permanently - that would be too much of a waste. One doesn't go and lightly destroy one of the Four Horsemen, especially one in such a delightful package. Methos just needed a few lessons about where his place was in everything. Angelus was certain that with a bit of...persuasion..., things would work out just the way they should.

***

*When out in the lobby there arose such a clatter, He sprang from the bedroom to see what was the matter.

Away down the stairs, he flew like a flash, And what did he find but a big Christmas bash.*

Angelus had seen a lot of strange things in his life, but finding the employees of Wolfram and Hart in the lobby of his hotel hadn't ever been one of them before.

"What the hell..."

"You seem surprised." Lindsey oozed charm, consolingly. "Didn't Cordelia tell you that we rented this place for our annual Christmas party? She was muttering something about you not being able to afford the paid vacations you'd given your employees."

A struggling figure was dragged in through the door and tossed in the fire, but the lawyer distracted him again just as he was wondering where the fire place had come from. It appeared that some of lawyers had marshmallow sticks all ready and were waiting for the real roasting to start.

"I really like what you've done with the place," Lindsey said, pointing to the mutilated body parts attached to the wall. "When Cordelia had said that the place would be decorated, I had no idea. Egg nog?" Lindsey asked, passing Angelus a cup.

"Why not."

"Glad to see you've given up on the whole save the world from the forces of evil crusade. If you ever need a job, just let me know." The one armed man wandered back to his cohorts from the firm leaving Angelus sipping his drink. As if he would start working for them. He had bigger ambitions, but he then thought, *Options, Angelus, it's always nice to have them.*

***

*The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, gave the luster of mid-day to objects below, When, what my wondering eyes have just met, But a Slayer, a Watcher, and a few slayerettes.*

It was like an episode of the Twilight Zone. There was no explanation for the number of strange people converging on him. Perhaps someone or something *had* noticed his transformation.

It was at that moment that the door flew open revealing Buffy, Giles and the other members of the Sunnydale crew. This could not be happening. Why the hell would they be here? If Santa showed up next...

"Angel!"

At first, he thought the shout was from Buffy, but when he heard it the second time he realized that it sounded more like Cordelia. Wait a minute, mounted heads do not talk. That was part of the reason he'd stuck them up there in the first place.

"Angel, snap out of it."

Someone gave him a shake and he blinked his eyes. The room transformed, revealing Cordelia, Wesley, Gunn and Methos. Gunn had a slightly bemused look on his face and was holding a piece of mistletoe with a tag that said "From Cordelia." Wesley was holding a red package, this one much too flat and small to hold anything living, he hoped. That had been some strange dream.

"Time to open your present. You wouldn't believe how long we searched for the perfect gift. And then we saw this. You're going to love it." She grabbed the box from Wesley and handed it to him. He was disturbed by the eerie similarity between the words just spoken and that of his dream.

Angelus tore open the packaging. He noticed Wesley backing away from him, moving closer to the door. Obviously, whatever it was hadn't been his idea.

The gift was indeed happy and cheery. A puppy stared back at him, this time merely an image on a piece paper. A calendar - a kitten and puppy calendar. Angelus sighed. If word of this got out he'd never live it down at the annual Bad Guys Association meetings.

"Thank you everyone." The words were ground out with as much politeness as possible. "I've always wanted one of these."

Cordelia ignored his tone and said, "You're welcome."

Goodbyes were exchanged and it looked like the others were leaving. Methos came over and sat down on his lap. "Now that they're gone, can I have my present?" His voice mimicking that of a three year old.

Angelus nuzzled his neck. "What do you want?"

Methos turned around and kissed him. "Let's just say that it involves whipped cream, chocolate syrup and massage oil."

Maybe this Christmas wouldn't be so bad after all.

=30=