Spike... with Giles... wow, that's hot... it seems an odd thing to use second person for, but never mind... ooooh... season two... my favourite... huh... is that physically possible?... Faith as well... her on top... oh, dear me... Mr Gordo/mystery... I like this... I want more... it's like crack...

Even a fictional, magical city can have its mean streets, its dark nights of the soul and I was heading out to investigate a possession when the fic bomb came through the window of the Sang Sacre police station. Ho hum, Spuffy. Tell me something I don't know, I asked the mook or mookette who was the unknown bomber. I was gonna throw it out, but, my God...so haunting, yet so perverse. Oh, well, an exorcism isn't much good till the priest gets there, I rationalized.

Finally, after a wait of ages we are next to see this 'Santa Claus'. The fat man in red looks at my disguised minion and makes a friendly 'come here' gesture. "Ho. Ho. Ho. Come here and tell Santa what you want for Christmas."

I grip the hilt of my sword and address Santa. "You business is with me, not my minion."

Santa looks confused, but recovers quickly. "Um...Ho. Ho. Ho. Then you tell Santa what you want for Christmas."

"I'd like to dance in a pool of your blood Santa." I draw my sword and strike in a single fluid motion. The stoke slices neatly through Santa's stomach and the followthrough slices a giant candy cane in two.

To my dismay there are not oozing entrails pouring from Santa, just some white fluffy stuffing.

"Holy shit!" yells Santa as he pulls off his beard and falls over backwards in his chair. "I'm not even really him, you freak!"

Behind me I hear lots of yelling and shrieking as children, people, and fake-looking elves run all over the place.

"Where can I find the real Santa?!" I demand showing him the pitch black, pointy end of my sword.

"Uh. The north pole." Says the cowering imposter.

"Run and tell him that I will be coming for him."

The imposter runs away from the Santaland display as my minion and I exit. "Well Deimos, it looks like we'll be going to the North Pole after all." Once we get a little distance away I casually fire a little ball of flame into Santaland and watch as it explodes into flames.

We make our way out of the mass of shoppers while being drizzled on by the overhead sprinklers. I can see why people like to avoid the mall during the holiday season.

Next thing you know, CSI: The Blood will be showing up to investigate.

t looks for the damned Bunny-B-Gon

I finally step off the boat and onto the docks in Sang Sacre. The cruise here had been interminable. My assistant thought it would be funny to book me steerage the whole way. We'll see how funny he thinks it is when I get back.

The salt tang of the sea air nips at my nostrils, bearing upon it the overripe scent of rotting fish. I'd heard many stories of the City of Sacred Blood, and even had a couple of different "seers" warn me of ever setting foot here, but I've never put much stock in the information" psychics give you in return for money.

I make my way down the creaking pier, and step off toward the heart of the city. I'm only here long enough to pick up a particular work of art, but tracking down its specific location may prove tricky.

I only hope the cover of this annual winter festival will keep any unwanted eyes from noticing my arrival.

"Well, that's something you don't see everyday."

"Don't say that!" Brian's voice is more than a little vexed. "You know that only encourages the strangeness."

We amble down the boardwalk in silence for a few moments.

"What."

"Huh?"

"What don't you see everyday."

"Thought you didn't want me to talk about that."

"Elena..." Really, it's remarkable how menacing he can sound when he puts his mind to it.

"The ship."

Brian shoots me a sidelong look that says 'and' as clearly as his voice would.

"The ship docking." Brian's expression doesn't change, prompting me to explain further. "It's just a little odd to have a passenger ship docking at this time of night."

"Maybe it's one of those party cruises again. Man, it was like a horde of locusts decending last time we had one of those."

"Swarm."

"Huh?"

"Pride of lions, murder of crows, swarm of locusts. And the really weird thing is that only one person got off the ship."

"Huh."

We've ambled up to Front Street and manage to catch the Sparrow as it makes it's uptown swing.

"What would horde be?"

"Huh?"

"Well, if it's a pride of lions, a murder of crows, and a swarm of locusts, what would a horde be?"

"Huh." I settle into the crook of Brian's arm and prepare my thoughts. "Visigoths?"

"Nah. ... Teenagers?"

"Not bad. ... Money?"

"That'd be aitch-oh-ay-arr-dee. ... Country music fans?"

"Be nice. ... American Idol fans?"

"Republicans?"

"Ashcrofts?"

"Now that's a chilling thought."

The North Pole:

Benny the Elf and Vinnie the Elf are enjoying a nice nature walk to get a little break from the stress of the toy factory.

"Dude, these nature walks suck! It's all just snow and ice anyhow." Exclaims Vinnie waving his arms and making his little elf bells ring. "Let's just go back to my place and watch some my new TTT Extended Edition DVD."

Benny twitches his little pointy elf ears. "What's that?"

"Jeez dude, it's The Two Towers from the Lord of the Rings triology. We're only delivering like a billion of them on the big day. You gotta take a break from the blocks and bikes division Benny."

Benny points to a ridge. "No, no. What's that sound. It sounds like it's coming from over the ridge."

Vinnie twitches his little pointy elf ears. "Sounds like drums dude."

They exchange a look and scramble to the top of the ridge. The valley below is filled with a massive camp of ugly creatures, with ugly armor, holding ugly weapons, and pounding on, yeah you guessed it, ugly drums.

"What the frell?!" Exclaims Benny.

"Those are orcs dude!" Responds Vinnie.

"What's an orc?"

"Big mean nasty creatures that like to kill elves. Dude, this is exactly why you need to see The Two Towers."

Benny takes in the view for a few seconds. "We gotta tell the big guy."

"I say we go back and get the other Elves, gather our bows, and wipe these guys out!" Says Vinnie.

"Vinnie, we're Elves. We make toys. We don't have bows, we have plastic swords and super-soakers. Look at your shoes man, do warriors wear pointy shoes?"

"Sorry dude, I may have watch a little too much of that DVD. Okay, let's report this to the big guy."

They scramble back down the ridge.

"Hey Benny, why is it daylight anyhow? Isn't it supposed to be night up here this time of year?"

"Elf magic Vinnie. The answer to all those sort of things is Elf magic."

As Bob, Achmed and I trudge back to the Folly after our abortive attempt at a proper angry mob scene at Gudanov's Castle--each of us clutching our private copies of our favorite fics--we hear whispers of a crazed assassination attempt on the Santa down at the department store.

Bob is horrified. "What kind of sick, twisted, diseased, diabolical mind would do such a thing! Attempt to whack Santa?!"

As one we turn to stare back the way we came, gazing up at the torchlit bulk of Gudanov's place.

I shake my head. "If it was Gudanov, the weapon would have been a hovercraft-mounted, cold-fusion powered laser cannon set to sculpt the poor guy's shivering carcass into some figure of obscure but deep meaning."

Achmed gives me a worried look. "Sitt, are you getting enough sleep?" He glares around me at Bob, who shakes his head innocently, which does not fit the smirk on his face.

"What, I can't branch out from smut and slash into high-tech spy stuff? It all fits together, you know. James Bond really needs to get hit on by a gay villain."

We all pause again, running that scenario through the screening rooms in our heads.

Bob brings himself to his senses first. "Pretty picture, but it still doesn't answer who called a hit on the Jolly Fat One."

Achmed shakes his head. "I don't like. Strange doings at the Circle--I mean, in The Blood these days."

Benny and Vinnie the Elf run for Christmas Town as quickly as they can on little elf legs and pointy shoes. In the hurry Benny loses his little pointy elf hat. They make right for the Big Guy's office.

"Mr. Claus! deep breath There are deep breath Orcs just deep breath to the south!" Manages Benny.

Santa takes a look at the two gasping Elves, wondering what happened Benny's hat.

"Take a seat. You two look like you need a little rest. I'll see what is going on out there." Says Santa as he walks over to a sheet-covered column and yanks the cover off the planatir used to keep track of who's been naughty and who's been nice.

Santa does handwavy things over the planatir and the sees the Orc army gathering to the south.

"I see what you two are talking about. Now let's see who is behind this."

More handwavy stuff.

"Ah, Aeshma. Yes, he has been a naughty boy."

Vinnie stands up. "So big dude, are we going to kick their grimy Orc butts?"

"Ho. Ho. Ho. No my pointy hatted friend. I think we'll bring some Christmas spirit to this Aeshma. I have an elf deliver the fire engine with the working lights and ladders that he never got as a little boy. He'll understand the spirit of Christmas and there won't be a battle."