We Killed Santa

Author: Lilithangel

Website: www.livejournal.com/users/lilithbint

Fandom: AtS

Characters: Spike/Angel, team

Rating/Warnings: NC17 for m/m sex.

Summary: they had the http://lilithbint.livejournal.com/99051.html#cutid1 now it's time for the Wolfram & Hart Christmas party.  What could possibly go wrong?



Spike and Angel stared down at the blood streaked Santa hat on the floor and then looked at each other.

“We killed Santa,” Spike said in shock.

Three days earlier...

“Angel, we have a problem.” Lorne bustled into Angel’s office.

“Again?” Angel said in exasperation.

“Again,” Lorne replied, “this Christmas party I’m organising…”

“Christmas party?” Angel looked at Lorne in confusion.

“The Wolfram & Hart party for Santer…” Lorne prompted.

“I thought that was some sort of party for the children of staff.”

“The Powers forbid,” Lorne said in horror, “you never bring children to a party for Santer unless they are on the menu.”

“What are you talking about Lorne?”

“Don’t you read your memos?  Santer, the most powerful demon in the Northern Hemisphere, always visits L.A for Christmas because he hates the winter.  Well it turns out he also hates everything to do with Christmas thinks it’s mocking him.”  Lorne paced up and down the office.  “It was never a problem before; Wolfram & Hart never decorated the offices until we moved in.”

“Why should we care?” Angel said continuing to sign the pile of documents on his desk.

“Apparently the last group that insulted Santer lived in a little place called Atlantis.”

Angel looked a little surprised but regained his calm, “so remove the decorations, and send out a memo reminding people of his visit.  Everything can go back up after he leaves.”

“There’s more,” Lorne said nervously, “I was reading through the protocols and well… there are certain things you have to say and wear.”

“Wear?”

* * * * *

Spike was still laughing five minutes after seeing what Angel had to wear to welcome Santer to Wolfram & Hart.

“It’s a Santa Claus suit,” Spike said again.

“It’s the traditional garb of the Demon King Santer’s home dimension,” Lorne said sternly, adjust his own red suit.  “If you intend to stay you will have to dress appropriately as well.”

“There’s no bloody way I’m wearing a Santa suit,” Spike said still sniggering.

“That’s right,” Lorne said, “you’ll wear what the others are wearing.”

Spike turned around and burst out laughing again, “Santa’s elves.”

“No, Santer’s minions,” Lorne said, “you have to be very careful with terminology around the Demon King, he’s very sensitive.”

“If this is a joke I will separate your head from your body and play football with it,” Gunn said to Lorne as he tripped over his curly toed shoes.

“Well I’m nobody’s minion,” Spike said gleefully, “although Wes makes an adorable elf.”

“Shut up, Spike,” Wes said tugging on his very short tunic.

“As a member of Angel’s family you do get a choice,” Lorne said, holding out a Mrs Claus suit and an elf suit.  “The elf suit does come with a special hat with a bell on it.”

“No bloody way.” Spike shook his head.

“You will do as you’re told or…”

“Or what old man, I’ll get a lump of coal for Christmas?  Haven’t done much about Christmas for a lot of years, you don’t scare me.”  Spike got up into Angel’s face.

“It’s either that or naked,” Angel said with a growl.

“Naked it is then,” Spike said, taking off his jacket.

“You are not going naked,” Angel said.

“You just said it was my other option,” Spike said, “I’m not wearing some poxy costume.”

“The Demon King will be pleased that you are honouring him so,” Lorne said, watching appreciatively as Spike stripped down.

“Won’t be completely naked anyway,” Spike said, grabbing the elf hat from Lorne, “keeping my boots on too.” He pulled the hat on at a jaunty angle and stared challengingly at Angel.

Angel blinked and drew his attention back to Spike’s face.

“Okay team,” Lorne clapped his hands together, “its show time.”  He was listening to his earpiece phone.  “The Demon King and his minions just arrived.”

“By sleigh?” Gunn quipped.

“No, limo of course,” Lorne said, checking the room distractedly.  “Angel, you should be at your desk with Spike beside you.  Gunn, Fred and Wes, you stand there.  Nobody greet him until after the ritual welcome and please don’t mention Christmas.”

Lorne pulled the doors open and swept out to the lobby to meet the elevator.  Everyone except Fred carefully avoided looking at Spike.  Fred just grinned at him and took her time perusing the goods until Angel’s huff of annoyance drew her back to the job at hand.

They could hear Lorne’s effusive greetings and Fred leaned around to get a view.  The Demon King looked very much like Santa if you discounted the six inch claws, fangs and horns that curled up through his red hat.

“Oh my goodness,” Fred said, “He’s really the reason for Santa?”

“Shhhh….” Wesley cautioned as Lorne led the Demon King into the office.

He was surrounded by a dozen green creatures that looked like nightmare elves.  They were short but appeared shorter due to Santer being eight foot tall.

Angel stood and bowed to the Demon King.  “Welcome to our city.”

“Santer, Demon King of the nine dimensions, ruler of all demonkind in the Northern world,” Lorne said, “This is Angelus head of the Aurelian clan, CEO of Wolfram & Hart, Los Angeles division.”

A complicated series of bows and shuffling steps that looked suspiciously like a jig followed.  Everyone could tell that the Demon King’s attention was really on Spike who was watching the display with a very obvious smirk.

“Angelus,” Santer boomed out smiling with a mouthful of piranha teeth, “I have wanted to meet you since Sebassis told me about your Halloween Party.”

“Santer.” Angel nodded.

“This is William Aurelius,” Lorne said, dragging Spike forward, “Heir apparent of the Aurelian clan.”

“William,” Santer boomed and pulled Spike in for a bone crushing hug and a quick grope.

Spike wriggled free and refrained from punching Santer, although Angel could tell it was a close thing.

“Right then, shall we move on to the festivities,” Lorne said enthusiastically.

“Yes,” Angel said just as enthusiastically.  He escorted Santer with Lorne leading the way and tried to block out the whispers from the staff when they saw Spike.

The ballroom was decked out in pine garlands and silver baubles and Santer nodded with approval.  The other guests began to arrive and Santer greeted them all, regally accepting their obeisance as his due.  His minions spread out through the room staring at people and generally scurrying around listening to conversations.

It was really one of the minions that started the trouble, or Spike depending on who told the story later.  The shortest of the minions happened to be exactly crotch height and Spike didn’t like the way it looked at him.

“It’s not a bloody candy cane,” he growled at the minion, “so bugger off.”  Santer heard Spike’s words and stared at Spike.  “Tell your elf to keep his eyes to himself,” Spike said.

A rumble in Santer’s chest suggested he didn’t like Spike calling his minion an elf, but Lorne deflected his attention with a toast that everyone echoed quickly.

Spike wasn’t finished though.  The minions really creeped him out and he was feeling a bit exposed.  Besides he really hated being nice to evil demons when they should be killing them.  He started singing Santa Claus is Coming to Town under his breath as he wandered around the room and soon had a number of people humming along.

The rumble of annoyance from Santer got louder and Spike smirked as he got closer.  “It’s a jolly party isn’t it?” he said to Santer, “Yule be feeling quite at home.”

“Are you mocking me?” Santer said with a growl.

“Me?” Spike said innocently, “I’m in a festive spirit is all, Tis the season and all…”

“And what season would that be?” Santer said dangerously.

“Spike…” Angel tried to stop Spike from saying anymore but faltered when he touched Spike’s naked skin.

“Your insults will not be tolerated,” Santer said, his claws sliding out a further six inches.

“Oh am I on your naughty list now?” Spike smirked, somehow managing to look dangerous despite being naked with an elf hat on.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Wesley cursed and dived for a cabinet behind the door.  He had known something bad was going to happen as soon as Lorne told him who was coming.

“Come on then Santa,” Spike bounced on his toes ignoring his other bouncing bits even if Santer couldn’t.

“It’s Santer…” he growled his eyes following Spike’s movements.

The minions suddenly launched themselves at the other guests and shrieks filled the air.

Spike dance back out of the way of Santer’s claws and punched him in the bearded jaw.  “How’s that for a ho ho ho?”

“Spike…” Angel knows it’s gone too far but just can’t stop from pleading just once.

“This not so jolly red bastard eats kiddies as snacks, Angel.  Why should we be nice to him?”  A minion leapt at Spike and latched onto his thigh with sharp pointy teeth.  “Son of a bitch,” Spike swore and tried to shake it off.

In his distraction Spike didn’t notice the swish of Santer’s claws until they raked across his stomach.

Angel roared with anger and plucked the thrown sword out of the air to bring it down on Santer’s wrist and try to slice the hand off.  “Don’t touch the merchandise,” he said.

Wesley tossed Spike a second sword and he used the pommel to bludgeon the minion attached to his thigh.  The jingling from the bell on his hat gave the scene an even more surreal sense than just a naked guy beating up an elf.

Santer laughed and pulled his hand out of the way, bringing his other hand up and clawing at Angel’s face.  Every strike Angel made Santer countered and Angel was soon bleeding from several places.

The others were busy with the minions and Santer soon had Angel back against the wall.  Spike had been keeping half an eye on Angel’s fight and found himself humming the same song again.

“Angel,” he yelled out as the words sank in, “he’s telepathic, he knows what you are thinking.”

“Crap,” Angel swore and tried to fight instinctively against Santer without thinking.  It was only partially successful but he got a couple of hits on the demon before he was up against the wall.

Finishing off his last minion Spike launched himself at Santer and loped his head off.

The obvious comment Angel was going to make was cut off when Spike looked up at him.

“We killed Santa,” Spike said in shock.  “What do we do now?”

The body seemed to shimmer and then it faded out of existence.

“You contact your new holdings,” Duke Sebassis said, stepping forward.  “Congratulations Angelus, I didn’t think you could top Halloween, but killing the Demon King is so much better.  I never did like the creature.”

“We own everything of his?” Spike’s eyes gleamed.

“Wesley,” Angel said.

“I’m on it,” Wesley said, heading for the door.

Lorne was running interference with the other guests, but by the chatter it was obvious that what had happened would be all over the Demon world before the clock struck midnight. 

If Angel had thought people were obsequious before the next ten minutes showed him what true sucking up was.  Everybody wanted to shake his hand and hug Spike.  He wasn’t so keen on the hugging bit since Spike was still naked.

Spike had gotten over his shock and was preening at the attention.  Finally Lorne ushered everyone out and Angel pulled the Santa jacket off.  “Never again, Lorne,” he said, “no more parties, we are cursed.”

“Cursed?” Spike said, bouncing on his heels, “can you imagine how much the Demon King of the Northern World will be worth?”

“It’s blood money, Spike, we can’t touch blood money.”

“But it was okay to take on jobs with Evil Incorporated?” Spike snorted.

“We’re doing good here,” Angel said defensively.

“And you’d rather the power vacuum destroyed half the world?” Spike said.

Angel looked around for support and found Gunn nodding his head.  “Blond and naked there is right Angel.  This guy was the biggest of the big and the vacuum could suck the whole world down with it.”

“Fine, we’ll send a team of auditors over to catalogue everything and we can decide what to do then,” Angel conceded, “and Spike, go put some clothes on.” He scowled.

Spike flipped him a salute and wandered out.  Angel watched his ass wiggle past and made a decision.  “I’m going to get out of this ridiculous suit,” he said.

Back in Angel’s office Spike bent down to pick up his jeans just in time to give Angel a perfect view of his decision.  Spike looked around without straightening up and reinforced Angel’s decision.

“Don’t move,” he said to the blond, and locked the door.

Predictably Spike stood up and turned to face Angel pulling the elf hat off his head.  Angel frowned at the deep scours across Spike’s stomach from Santer’s claws.

“Make up your mind,” Spike said misinterpreting Angel’s frown, “you told me to get dressed and then not to move, pillock.”

“I liked the position you were in,” Angel said absently as he grabbed the first aid kit.

Spike stared at Angel in shock.  “You what?”

Realising he had said it out loud Angel ignored Spike’s squeak and concentrated on cleaning Spike’s wounds before they started dripping on the carpet.

Spike tried to process Angel’s words into a sentence that made sense.  Angel liked him bending over… well that wasn’t a surprise, Angelus always liked him kneeling.  Angel had never acknowledged their past though so it had to mean something else.

“So you could kick my arse?” Spike asked as Angel wrapped bandages around his torso.

“Not kick it, no,” Angel said, horrified by his honestly but determined to stick to his decision.

“Did you hit your head?” Spike said.

“No, I just decided it was time to lay down a few new rules,” Angel said, stepping back from Spike and peeling the rest of his Santa suit off.

“New rules?” Spike growled.

“Rule one, no more going around naked…” Angel held up a hand to silence Spike’s outrage, “for anyone but me.  Rule two, no more giving me grief I have much better uses for your mouth and rule three, no more freelance work, from now on you work for me.”

“You did hit your head if you think I’m going to listen to those rules anymore than I listen to any of your others.”  The rest of Spike’s rant was cut off by Angel kissing him.

Angel continued to kiss him until all rational thought had left his brain and he found himself sprawled out over the couch with Angel on top of him.  “You think you can just kiss me and make me do what you want,” he complained.

“Pretty much,” Angel said with a smirk.

“Well you’re wrong,” Spike said, smirking at the way Angel’s face fell, “I expect you’re going to have to fuck me to get that reaction.”  He bucked against the hard shaft prodding him in the hip.

“Really?” Angel looked around the room frantically.

“What are you doing,” Spike said, exasperated at Angel’s lack of attention.

“Lube,” Angel replied, “we need something.”

“Don’t you have any of that poufy hand cream in your desk?”

“Yes!” Angel tried to get up and managed to drive his knee into Spike’s groin.

“Fuck!” Spike reacted by swinging his elbow into Angel’s face.

“Oww!” Angel fell backwards and tripped over the Santa suit clipping his head on the edge of his desk.

Spike leapt forward and felt his wound reopen.  “Shit.  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” he said, on his hands and knees.

“It was a great idea, the execution could use some work.  It never used to be this difficult.” Angel sighed.

“Dunno, seems awfully familiar to me.” Spike got carefully to his feet.

“I’m different now,” Angel said, struggling to stand.

“So am I.”

“So what does that mean?” Angel looked confused.

“You find that hand cream, we go upstairs to your penthouse and do things properly,” Spike said, “oh and bring the hat.”

They made it up to Angel’s apartment with only two minor head bumps as they tried to sort out who was leading.

When they landed on the bed the kisses stopped and both looked nervous.  They were used to fighting each other and were not sure how it worked without fists.

“The kissing was good,” Spike said finally.

“The kissing was good,” Angel agreed, taking the hint and getting back to it.

With the kissing it was easier to forget the past and get into the swing of things.  Hands wandered where they chose, exploring bodies and finding spots that got the best response.

Both hesitated briefly when they reached areas that were hot even on vampires, but the soft steely heat was too good to resist much to their mutual pleasure.  Fists wrapped around shafts and the undulations of their bodies moved them faster and faster as the kisses got more urgent and needy.

The climax came too soon for both of them and yet they couldn’t have waited another moment to feel the heat spurt across fingers and splatter on skin.

They lay wrapped in a tangle of limbs breathing without care.  Spike laughed suddenly and Angel looked at him in confusion.

“We killed Santa and ended up in bed together,” Spike said, “not how I had expected to spend Christmas, but it’s bloody marvellous.”

“It’s not what I expected either, but you’re right.  Merry Christmas, Spike.” Angel kissed Spike, softly this time and Spike responded just as gently.

“Merry Christmas, Angel.”


Merry Christmas to All and to all a goodnight.
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