My thanks to the divine Ms. M and Puff for their great comments, guidance and beta-ing. Sometimes they know my guys better than I do.

WMH

December 31, 2002

The Omega's lead agent walked briskly through the nearly pristine hallways of the Estate. One of the good things about the Yuletide holidays was that they tended to bring out the best in mankind. Or at least, put a freeze on the worst, for a while.

Choate stopped at the juncture on level 15, corridor C - left to the hangar where Aces and the 'copter waited to take him home. Right, back to the turbolift. His nerve-endings tingled. Something felt wrong.

"Cook?"

"He's off-shift, Viper," a disembodied voice answered, a totally unexpected one, "I thought you'd be half-way home to that green-eyed imp of yours by now."

"Clutch?"

"In the flesh."

"Why are you here?"

"A question that has plagued mankind for millennia."

The agent sighed. "Very funny, Silver Fox."

"I had thought it a serious quest," came the smug reply.

The senior agent snorted. "Why're you at Comm instead of with your brat?"

"He said he was spending the holiday with his family."

The agent blinked in disbelief. "And he didn't invite you?"

"You know how I feel about this time of year."

The Chief Agent shook his head. "You sent him to spend Christmas alone."

"He's with his family, Viper."

Choate snorted. "Clutch, if you'd ever spent any time at a Kuschel family gathering, you'd know that unless his grandmother is there, Gideon is very much alone."

After a heartbeat, "He lied to me?"

"No. He knows how you feel about strangers. And 'this time of the year.'" The agent waited in silence for a moment. "I have an elf waiting. Later, Fox."

~~~~~~

Gideon tried to press himself deeper into the upholstery of the armchair. Both of them were sitting way out the way of the circle in the livingroom. All alone, out of the family proper. It was Gram's chair when she was there, and he was surprised that his mother hadn't made him move in favor of his stepfather caused a scene, shamed him again in front of the family. No, it would have moved the man farther away from the banquet table. And, as it was, it kept him further away from 'the Pansy'. His favorite name for his stepson.

Grammy always stood up for Gideon. No one dared abuse him while she was in the vicinity, but this year she and her card club cronies had decided to suck up Mai Tai's on a cruise this holiday.

So Gideon sat, scrunched in the massive chair, trying to reach a place other than where he was and didn't hear Mathis' voice filter out from the foyer. High pitched and anxious, it was totally out of character for the elderly man.

"Excuse me. Sir! You can't go in there." Then closer to the livingroom, "I am sorry, madame. He pushed past me. Should I call the authorities?"

Suddenly, a shadow eased over him, registering on Gideon's subconscious.

"Mouse?"

The fair-haired youth started. Looking up at the sound of that hard-edged voice. And suddenly the world stopped. "Bear," he said softly As he leaned forward toward the warmth.

"Gideon!"

Concentrating on the familiar scent of his lover, Kuschel heard his mother's voice from far away.

"Do you know . . . this . . . person?" she literally regurgitated the past word.

"We will go home now," he said softly.

Gideon nodded as he gracefully rose from his chair.

"Where is your coat?"

"Upstairs."

He smiled, gently touching the tip of his finger to the point of his lover's nose. "Two minutes."

And he was off. Damien watched him for several seconds before turning towards the front door.

"Excuse me," the mother's voice sounded coldly behind him. "What's the meaning of this intrusion? Who are you? Are you a friend of my son's?"

"Search and rescue. His Bear. Yes."

The agent turned to head towards the exit only to find his way blocked. Silver Fox showed the man a feral smile.

"I have my coat, Bear"

Both men turned towards the timid voice and found Gideon waiting apprehensively just behind them, his coat clutched tightly to his chest.

"It's just like you to disrupt your mother's holiday," the man snarled.

"I'm sorry, Richard," young Kuschel said quickly as he ascending the remaining stairs. "We were leaving."

"Gideon, we haven't even served dinner," his mother interrupted. "Charlotte's coming. And she's so looking forward to spending the evening with you. The two of you getting to know one another better."

"But, maman . . . "

"Charlotte, Mouse?" Damien said, raising a questioning brow.

The young man blushed bright red and swiftly averting his eyes. "Maman wanted me to meet her."

"Why?"

"What business is it of yours?" Richard demanded.

Damien glanced back fleetingly at the man before returning his gaze to his lover. "Yes, Little Rain, tell us what business."

The smaller man looked up at the cool tone of his love's voice. "Business?" he said confused.

Damien just waited.

"I'm your business," he answered, looking deeply into Damien's eyes. "Everything I do is your business," he whispered, "Everything I am."

Richard's face twisted in disgust as he looked back at his wife. "Another one."

"Richard!" his wife whispered as she compared each man's size. "Just let them go."

Gideon slid up next to the huge lover."

Damien surveyed the stepfather with flat, dark eyes.

"Let them go, Richard," his wife implored. "It isn't worth it."

The expression on the face of Silver Fox hardened. "Listen to her."

Gideon tugged desperately at the light of his life across the foyer and through the door. To his relief, Damien allowed himself to be moved.

~~~

Kuschel sat on the porch and stared up at the sky. Why was it that the stars always seemed bigger and brighter out here in the desert? So quiet and peaceful.

"Do you miss not having a tree?"

He turned towards Fox's voice and found him standing in the doorway.

"Not many trees in the desert, Damien."

The agent snorted.

"Did you ever have a tree?" the young man asked softly.

"No."

"Why not?"

"White Man's Holiday."

Gideon turned in his chair. "What?"

"My grandmother always said it was just another a white man's holiday. She was adamant about keeping tradition."

"Tradition?"

"Yes."

Gideon looked totally confused for a moment. Then, "Oh." Silence. "Ind . . . um, Native American traditions."

He laughed. "We have them."

"I know."

"The Tohono are proud people."

Kuschel settled in the chair. "Tell me about them?"

Silver Fox walked out onto the patio and sat in 'his' chair opposite his lover.

"We are the Tohono O'odham, Desert People." He opened his arms and Gideon sprang from the chair, settling comfortably in his lap. "Until the 1980s we were known as the Papago Indians."

"Papago?"

"It means "Bean Eaters."

Gideon laughed. "I can see the point." He jumped at the steely fingers squeezing the flesh of his thigh. "Ow, Damien!"

"The tribe lives on the second largest reservation in the United States. It stretches for over a hundred miles along the Mexico/Arizona border and extends far into southern Arizona." He smiled to himself as he thought about how close he lived to the Estate and the circumstances of his 'recruitment'."

"Have you lived there all your life?"

The big man nodded as he stroked the soft hair nestled beneath his chin. "Until I graduated from the mission school."

"What happened?"

"My grandmother wanted me to farm the land."

Gideon laughed again, this time covering his thigh to protect it from the pinch. "I can't see you as a farmer."

Silver Fox laughed too as he ignored the defensive move. "Neither could I."

The blond took a deep breath. "Why aren't you at work?"

Damien sighed as he pulled the smaller man to an upright sitting position. "Why did you lie to me?"

That question brought the young man up short. "Lie?"

"Yes."

"But, I didn't."

Damien shook him. "You let me believe you were going to a family event."

"But, I was."

"A happy family event, Mouse."

Gideon couldn't return his gaze. "Oh."

Damien shook his head. He had observed Brown and Viper with their brats. Even if he hadn't, he felt uncomfortable at the aspect of Gideon lying to him. And certain that he didn't want a recurrence. "Why did you lie to me?" he asked again.

The huge eyes watching him began to sparkle with tears. "Are you mad at me?" he whimpered.

"Yes."

And the tears began to fall.

Damien hardened his heart. "Answer my question."

"Please don't be mad."

"Gideon," he said sternly as he shook him again.

"Because I didn't want you to see."

"See?"

"My family. I didn't want you to see them. Grammy's all right. But Richard wants me to not exist. And, my mother doesn't want to believe I want a boyfriend in the same way she thinks I should want a girlfriend." He sobbed. "She keeps 'fixing' me up with women. Hoping they'll . . . " he sobbed again.

"Turn you?"

"Yeah."

"That doesn't explain why you lied."

The tears intensified. "They would've been mean to you."

"They were mean to you, Mouse."

"I know. But, I'm used to it."

Damien handed him a handkerchief. "You didn't think I could handle it?"

Gideon wiped his eyes and blew his nose. "I didn't want you to have to."

The agent took the small face tightly in his hand. "It is a fine thing, you trying to protect me, Mouse."

"But you don't think I can."

"I didn't say that. I think you can protect me. I don't think that you should lie to me to do it."

"I am sorry."

"So am I, Little Rain."

And, instantly, Gideon's view changed from his lover's face, to that of the patio floor.

"Damien!" he squealed.

"You lied to me," Damien calmly informed the Mouse squirming over his kneed as he tugged down the soft jersey-cloth barrier covering the round, bubble butt.

"I'm sorry!" he wailed.

"I'm sorry, too, Mouse."

"Damien. Please. Don't!"

"You don't give me a choice." Silver Fox rubbed his hand over the warm flesh. He did not want to do this . . .

Almost as much as Gideon didn't want it done. "Please," the young man pleaded once more. "I won't do it again."

"No, you won't." Damien brought his hand down hard on the exposed flesh.

Gideon shrieked as if he'd been torched. "DaaaaMMmmEEEEIIINNNN!" he screamed.

"I. Will. Not. Be. Lied. To," the agent said, as he punctuated each word with a solid swat. The pale flesh beneath his firm hand rapidly bloomed with color.

"Ow. OW. OOWW. No, Damien!" Kuschel promised as he struggled with all his might to get away. "No lying," he promised frantically.

Another swat, sharply on the fleshy part of the young man's bottom, right at the juncture of the back of his thighs. "I mean this, Gideon Kuschel." Another emphasizing spank.

"I'm sorry, Damien," Gideon cried wildly. "Never again."

Two final smacks to underscore his point and Damien stopped.

At a loss on the 'spanking' procedures, Damien followed his instincts and lifted the young man from across his lap and cradled him in his arms.

Instantly, Gideon's arms wrapped in a stranglehold around his lover's neck as he buried his face in the warm hollow of Fox's throat.

The agent also hugged his little love close as he rocked him, letting him cry out his misery.

They sat like that until the air became uncomfortably cool. The young blonde's weeping had slowed to an occasional sniffle.

Silver Fox pushed Gideon back until he sat.

"Ssssttt," Kuschel hissed.

The larger man immediately stood them both up. He took the narrow chin in his hands and pushed until Gideon's eyes met his. "Are you all right?"

Gideon shook his head. "You spanked me," he said shakily.

"Yes." He kissed the sweat dampened forehead of his lover.

"I didn't like it."

"Neither did I. Do not make me do it again."

Kuschel shook his head frenzily. "No. I won't."

"Are you hungry?"

Gideon shook his head.

The larger man swept the young man into his arms. "To bed then."

The blond settled in the strong embrace, throwing his arms around the strong neck and tightening his grip.

"Not the way you'd planned to spend the holiday," Damien said as he carried his loved bundle into the house.

"No," he said softly, then yawned. "Not counting the spanking . . . " He blushed hotly. ". . .it's better than last year."

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