Christmas Mate

(A/N: The story is set in the verse we’d created in one of our TAT series stories wherein Captain Spike (William’s brother) claims Xa’an. Spike and Xa'an have a cameo appearance in the beginning of this story.)


Captain William Val Righton of the warrior clan Traxidus stared into the viewing screen at an almost exact image of himself. His twin, Captain Spike, appeared unusually relaxed, sitting on his bed with a book in hand. “Good evening brother. I apologize for not wishing you well on your nuptials, but we were out of communications range. I hope your mate gives you pleasure and peace.”

“He does... though peace might not be the exact word for him, he has a penchant for throwing vases,” Spike answered.

William’s eyebrow lifted. “At what?”

“Some things must remain between mates. I would introduce you to Xa’an at the earliest opportunity.”

“I would meet him as soon as possible. At the moment, we are approaching Gaia. I have chosen and will take my mate.”

“From Gaia... that is where Xa’an is from. I warn you, the psychics from that planet appear to be willful and quite difficult...”

“Nonsense. You know as well as I that our mates cannot resist us. In any event, my crew is tired of my... cycles, and I must do something about them.”

“Perhaps you’re right, although... Xa’an gave me a lot of difficulty.”

“From what I heard, it had more to do with his objections to the lack of courting time. I have plenty of time... twelve days.”

“Then it should be a simple matter,” Spike agreed. “And who is your chosen?”

“A man who goes by the name of Angel Carrigan.”

“Angel... do not say that name near Xa’an—“ Spike turned to see his mate walk into their quarters, his eyes reflecting their ever curious look.

"What name?" Xa'an asked, coming to sit next to Spike. He glanced at the screen to see who his mate was talking to. "Erm...Spike? You do know you're talking to yourself right?" he asked with a dubious look to the screen and back.

"I have not gone daft yet, despite any rumors," Spike answered his mate. "Xa'an, meet my brother Captain William Val Righton--"

"You may call me Captain."

"He shall call you Captain William," Spike responded, putting a possessive hand behind his mate's back. "I may not have mentioned my brother, but there he is."

"Good to meet you, Xa'an." Captain William gave his brother's mate a nod. "I was just learning about the prickly nature of Gaians and how to handle potential mates. It appears you have turned my brother into an expert."

"Oh I'm not prickly, he's just dense," Xa'an replied with a grin. "And if you're calling me by my first name then it's only fair I call you by yours, right? Right!" he agreed with himself immediately. If there was one thing he knew after getting mated to Spike it was that you never let a warrior get a chance to answer. They tended to disagree with you. "So, William, found mate yet?"

"Would you like me to call you 'mate of my brother?'"

"William..." Spike shook his head. "Some things are easier to let go, believe me."

"You are soft, brother. And in love," laughter danced in William’s eyes, even though he didn’t appear to be smiling. "Yes, I have found a mate and will begin courting him in six hours and thirty eight minutes. Perhaps I'll send my staff to bathe and prepare him for me."

"Oh this should be fun," Xa'an laughed, remembering Spike's attempt at courtship. "I wonder how he'll take it. Who is he? Do I know him?"

"He's got an unusual name--"

"Right, we have to go brother..." Spike picked up the remote and shut the view screen off.

"Hey! He was going to tell me who his mate is!" Xa'an protested, turning to glare at Spike. The guileless innocence in the blue eyes aroused his suspicions. He peered at his mate suspiciously. "Spike...who did he pick?"

"It's not important. What is important is..." he drew Xa'an close, "it's time for bed play."

"Spike, you're distracting me!" Xa'an slapped the blond's hands away. "What aren't you telling me?" he demanded.

"Nothing!" But his mate wasn't having it. Sighing and wondering how many vases he'd end up paying for, Spike muttered. "Angel... name's Angel."

"Angel," Xa'an repeated, eyes narrowed, "Your Angel? The big, fat, dumb ox with the stupid hair?"

"Don't look at me like that, I did not choose him. I chose you. Now come here..." he put his hand out. "There is no accounting for taste and I like my Xa'an-shaped mate. Lay back, and I'll show you how much," he added in a silky voice.


"Well," Xa'an grinned as Spike traced patterns down his back, "at least if William has him I won't have to kill him when I get back to Gaia."


* *


Angel looked closely at the sketch he was holding, feeling vaguely dissatisfied at the image. He was practicing his psychic imprint ability, trying to retrieve pictures from random people's heads but still, the end result on paper seemed faintly different to the picture he was trying to draw. He crumbled the paper and tossed it in the rubbish bin, beginning all over again. His teacher had told him not to be so obsessive but what did he know. Angel had to practice to get things right and he would do it.

Opening the door to Angel’s place was no problem for William’s crew. Within minutes of locating the correct apartment, six uniformed crew members walked inside the home of the Captain's chosen.

"Good day," Elliston looked at the photograph in his hand, and confirmed they'd found the right man. "You look... bigger than your picture. No matter, the Captain makes up for his height, with his strength."

Some knowing smiles were flashed by the crew, which now surrounded the seated man who suddenly did not look very relaxed.

Angel jumped up and took a fighting stance. "Who the fuck are you?" he demanded, glaring at the intruders.

Clearing his throat, Elliston began the formalities that had to be seen to. "Angel Carrigan of the planet Gaia, we are pleased to inform you that Captain William Val Righton of the warrior clan Traxidus has chosen you as his mate. Courting shall begin at once. You will dine with him tonight and get to know him then. Allred will apprize you of the Captain's preferences."

"Who’s Captain Val Righton? How did you get in?"

Again he was ignored as some woman stepped forward and started rattling off things.

Trisha Allred stepped forward. "Aye. The Captain prefers..." she stared at Angel's clothing, "a looser form of dress for his companions--"

Elliston coughed.

"His mate," she said, her voice a bit tight as she forced the word out. "If you wear a shirt like that one... definitely leave the buttons open, at least to here," she pointed at his mid-chest area. Also, he is partial to citric scents. We have brought several colognes that he is fond of, choose one for this evening."

She circled him, leaning over to check his ears. "Good, you get high marks on grooming. The Captain is very fastidious, and at least we won't have to send you to hygiene training. Now..."

Angel watched her warily as she walked around him. It seemed that these people weren't hostile but still, he hadn't expected to be chosen by anyone and this Captain certainly didn't seem like a person he would like.

Stopping in front of him, she locked gazes. "Also... he isn't fond of body hair. Anywhere."

No, the Captain did not seem like a person he would like at all.

Taking a deep breath, Elliston added. "Would you like us to have you waxed now, or would tomorrow be better? The Captain has decided he shan't be taking you to his bed until tomorrow."

"Did he now?" Angel asked evenly. "I would like you to leave. I have to practice and you are an unwelcome," he glared at the woman who had spoken to him before, "distraction."

Elliston looked over at Allred. "There was nothing in the report about him being short on brain cells."

Trisha tried again. "You have been selected as the Captain's mate... you understand the concept?"

"It is an honor," Elliston repeated, not liking the mulish look on the selected one's face.

"I'm sure it is," Angel replied, holding on to his stony look, sure that it would annoy them even more. "On the other hand you should know that I've been trained well and fully and unless you want to see my offensive powers, you will leave. Now."

"No, a demonstration is unnecessary. The Captain would have chosen someone with great abilities," Elliston agreed, motioning for the other to leave their gifts of clothing, cologne, and an envelope in which lay a letter that pledged Captain William's troth to the psychic. "Remember... Eight O'clock sharp. The Captain does not like to be kept waiting."

Angel simply stood there, stony face firmly in place until the intruders gave up waiting for his reply and left his apartment. Only then did he approach the table where the gifts were placed. Captain Val Righton, whoever he was, had seen fit to gift him with a pair of leather trousers, a silk shirt and some strange smelling cologne. Angel looked at the trousers, trying to imagine what he would look like wearing them instead of his usual slacks and shirt.

"This is not going to end well," he muttered, turning his back to the gifts and heading for the shower. His concentration was shot and there was no way he could get any more work done today.

*

The honor guard arrived at Angel Carrigan's place, and forced the door open, only to find the apartment empty. Looks were exchanged, and a plan made as to how they would get the Captain's errant mate to him on time. The lead guardsman touched his collar, which was embedded with a communion device that allowed him to speak with his comrades on the ship that was in orbit above them. "Request emergency scan of the planet for the Captain's intended. Contact all officials and security groups if necessary."

"Aye Aye..."

Twenty minutes later, the honor guard was marching off at double time.

* * *

Angel was leaning against the bar, surveying the room and listening to Cordelia scold him for kicking out his mate's representative.

"You're going to spend the rest of your life with him Angel! It's important to know things about him. Like, for example, are those trousers good leather? Because that's very expensive and if they are then you're a very lucky boy."

"Cordelia, whether he's rich or not is not important, what's important is that I don't want to get mated to anyone. I'm supposed to be a champion, teach psychics how to deal with their gift not marry some idiot Captain," he said for the millionth time, only to receive a glare from his friend.

"Well, you've been chosen now, so deal with it."

The crowd parted for the honor guard, heads turning in curiosity as the uniformed men walked to the bar.

"There he is." The lead guardsman frowned as his gaze went from the tightly buttoned collar of the Captain's intended, to the loose slacks that did nothing for him. "You have.... the Captain won't like this, he wants you to show off your assets. And you're late, he won't like that. You must break yourself of these habits."

"Oh God, not again," Angel muttered.

One of the guards approached with a more appropriate flowing shirt. "Take yours off, please."

"No, I won't."

"Angel, don't be an idiot, take off your shirt," Cordy hissed with a little more eagerness than Angel was comfortable with.

"No, I won't," he repeated.

Two other guards approached, but another reminded them, "do not bruise him, the Captain won't like to see marred skin."

"Aye. Give us more help then." Four of them descended on Angel, slicing his shirt to shreds so that there wouldn’t be a struggle which might leave imprints on him. Another sliced the sides of his pants from hip to ankle, so that it dropped to the floor.

The flurry of movement caught Angel by surprised and he barely had time to react before he was left standing there, nearly naked.

When the bouncers came to see what was happening the lead guardsman pushed a paper into their faces. "He rightfully belongs to Captain William Val Righton. Until the bonding... he is chattel."

He could hear Cordelia snicker behind him and, despite the situation he took the time to level a glare at her. Annoyingly enough she didn't even pause, just made a gesture at him as she continued giggling.

"Congratulations," the bouncers shouted to the now almost naked man lucky enough to have been chosen. Laughing at his state, they walked away.

"A present... from your Captain," the more suitable clothes were presented to Angel with flourish. "Unless you wish to be taken to your dinner engagement in your present state."

"I wish for you to go away but that's not about to happen is it?" Angel snapped and grabbed the clothes. He'd just find a way to escape as they went.

"Sorry sir, it is impossible." The guardsmen looked at each other as they marched Angel out. The rumours of Gaian mates being more difficult than others might be true.

Try as he might, Angel could find no way to elude the brigade the Captain had sent after him. Every time he so much as looked in any given direction someone would step into his line of vision cutting off the escape route. They only paused long enough for him to drag on the clothes he was given and then started moving once again, walking him towards the beach. They entered a fairly expensive restaurant. Cordy would be pleased, Angel thought as he walked past all the tables, down a winding path lit by torches and straight into a small patio with only one table.

The Captain had been watching the second hand on his watch when at last his intended arrived. One look, and he was mesmerized. He stood, gravely drinking in everything feature of the man he would spend the rest of his life with. His face was manly and pleasing, perfect in its imperfection. The breadth of his shoulders, the taut skin over defined muscles, the narrow waist and hips that a man could hold onto had William sucking his breath in. This man was better than he’d dreamed.

Taking a few steps forward, he gave a formal boy. “The view screens lied.” His blue gaze intensified as he put his hand out to take Angel’s. “You are far better looking. I am very pleased in my choice of mate.”

"Pity you're going to have to change it then," Angel replied. He looked steadfastly at the man in front of him. If not for the unpleasant situation, he was just the type Angel usually went for. Cordelia continuously teased him about his penchant for tiny, blond dynamos and the Captain looked exactly like that.

"Excuse me?" The Captain motioned and the patio was cleared of people. Eyes still locked with Angel's, he spoke. "You must have misspoken. I have chosen," he said, steel edging his words. "And it is you."

"Then your choice was not wise and you should change it," Angel said, eyes narrowing into a glare.

"Consent is not necessary," stung by the surprising rejection, William snapped the reminder of the rules. "There are only two ground of refusal. Sexual inadequacy or revulsion." He stepped closer, close enough that he could smell the light musky fragrance Angel was wearing. Musky... not citric. "Do you make either charge?" It was no question.

Angel opened his mouth to say yes, but the Captain had stepped closer and his scent was filling Angel's nostrils, making his head swim.

"No," he said. He was shocked at his own reply, even as his lips shaped the word.

"Good. Because duplicity is not something I would countenance." William moved his mouth over Angel's mouth, just a light slide of lips against lips. Just enough to learn he craved more... to imagine himself pushing his tongue inside and proving he'd chosen well. The thought alone made William's breath come quicker.

He pulled away. "You are nervous. It is understandable. This is why I am courting you. We will get to know each other tonight. Please sit." He put his hand on Angel's arm, "Please."

"I'm not nervous, I'm angry," Angel said, hiding his confusion behind his usual stony look. He hadn't expected to be touched, never mind kissed. Nobody ever dared to treat him quite so casually, especially when he looked as forbidding as he did right then. He'd often used his physique to ensure that he remained undisturbed, and the only person who managed to ignore his moods and walk straight through his walls was Cordelia. Now this...Captain guy dared, not only to have him manhandled, but to kiss him, just like that.

"There's no occasion for anger. But perhaps if you tell me your thoughts, I can solve your issues. Sit... you are drawing attention." He nodded at the people staring from within the restaurant.

If there was one thing guaranteed to make Angel feel uncomfortable, it was drawing attention. "You need to stop this," he said earnestly but still, he sat down.

William sat and poured two glasses of wine, then leaned back and stared at his chosen. The man had a mouth meant to be kissed, and yet he wasted time with doubts and negative emotions. "Why? Why do you ask me to stop what cannot be stopped?"

"Because I refuse to be mated to anybody," Angel replied. He sipped his wine, fought a smile at the pleasant taste. Smiling at this man was dangerous and should be avoided at all costs.

Refusal was impossible, with the exception of the grounds he'd already denied. Why was this man so uptight, so stubborn? Why couldn't he accept the honor as his due, and enjoy the courtship? William thought upon it some more, then tensed. "Have you had a bad experience. Has someone... hurt you?" The question was whispered softly, but the answer might be deadly to anyone who had dared.

Angel spluttered as the wine he had just swallowed went down the wrong way.

"What? Of course not! You think the only reason I'd refuse to be mated is that I..." Unable to find the words, he gestured wildly. "I simply don't want to be mated. Nothing more, nothing less. I have more important things to do than satisfy a warrior."

William relaxed. Even gave an amused smile. "There is no more important thing than satisfying your warrior, you will know that soon enough. Tell me, who has put such notions in your head... and what are these... these important things that you cannot do at my side just as well."

Eyebrows raised in disbelief, Angel looked at the Captain for a moment. "I don't need to explain myself to you."

William wondered what Angel would look like when he smiled... or whether he knew how to. "But we are having dinner, and dinner goes well with conversation. Besides, this is exactly what courtship is for... to find out about each other. I want to know more about you."

He saw Angel's hand playing with the base of the wine glass, and put his hand over it, tracing his fingers. "I know you're strong, that your psychic powers are also strong. You're intelligent and loyal. All this and more I know, but there are things the reports do not tell me. I want to know how you think. Whether you take sugar with your coffee. Most importantly ... do you talk incessantly in the mornings?"

"Are you serious?" Angel could not understand this man, this Captain who blithely ignored the stony front he presented. Any other man would have succumbed to nervous silence by now, not ask whether Angel was chatty in the mornings!

Sense of humor was something they might need to work on, though in truth William found Angel’s ‘straight man’ act amusing in and of itself. It only made him want to strive to find a way to make him find that elusive smile. “Of course I am. Or grumpy? Do you wake up grumpy, Angel? Do you need to be coaxed into a good mood?”

The first course arrived and was placed before them, and the waiters quickly disappeared.

Feeling perplexed and not a little overwhelmed by the situation, Angel let his manners take over and picked up his fork and started eating his food. All the while he watched the man across from him, trying to make sense of the situation he found himself in. "Why me?" he asked, after a while.

"Isn't that the age-old question?" William tried to give a truthful answer but it was hard to set words to feelings. "At first it was your looks that attracted me. I stared at your holographic image ten different ways, and it never failed... you were the one that took my breath away. I read your profile... asked for more information. This was years ago before I'd decided. But you were the one I kept coming back to.... eventually, as I grew older and my heat cylcles became stronger... you were the one I imagined no matter who I partnered with. You're the one, Angel. If you open yourself up... you'll find our bond."

Angel sighed. "I don't like this. It's too much like..." he trailed off, looking down at his hands. "I don't like not being in control and you…confuse me."

The admission was hard to make but for some reason he needed to say the words. The mating ritual could not be interrupted, that much was true, and he had to take as much control back as he could. This seemed to be the best way to go about it.

William considered Angel's words. "If you don't fight it... if you give the bond a chance to assert itself quickly, then you will be in control... you will be going in the direction you want. We both will. That is the purpose of this courtship, to allow you to find yourself and know this is a great gift, yeah?" He gave his mate a heated look, "we will deal well together in everyway... I know it."

"I don't," Angel replied forcefully, "I didn't get to choose." Why was he even still here? Why was he sitting here with this man? "I'm leaving," he stated and got up.

He was surprised at Angel's vehemence. This was how it had always been... a warrior recognized his psychic mate and chose. It was something expected... welcomed, something that psychics grew up hoping for. But not this man, apparently. William rose as well.

"You may leave. But do not ever say I robbed you of the courtship that is your due," he said. "And I won't allow you to rob me of this." Moving with the legendary speed of warriors of his kind, William snaked his arms around Angel and dragged him close, forcing him to lower his head. As their mouths met, he slid his leg between the taller man's, so they touching in every place possible. There could be no doubt that he was claiming Angel, every part of him as he delved his tongue inside the psychic's mouth, and showed him what the future held.

Angel was still at first, too shocked to respond in any way, but soon he was melting into the embrace, kissing William back with everything he had. It took a while before he paid attention to the little voice in his head screaming at him to stop.

"No," he snapped, tearing himself away. "I have to go," he said, sounding a little too desperate for comfort. He stared at William for a confused second then walked away, as fast as his dignity could allow.

William made a motion with his hands, indicating his men should let the psychic go. "Angel." When his confused mate turned, he said. "Dream of me tonight." It was nothing less than an order.


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