Title: The Night Before Christmas
Author: Settiai
Disclaimer: "Angel" and other related characters are all properties of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and other related corporations. No infringement is intended. This story, such as it is, was written as a sign of respect and love for the characters, the show, and their creator. I claim no ownership of the aforementioned show and characters.
Rating: PG
Summary: Christmas Eve can never be a quiet affair.
Feedback: Comments and helpful criticisms are always appreciated.
----------
They had a huge Christmas tree set in the center of the Hyperion's lobby. Connor grabbed an ornament from one of the lowest branches and held it up for his three baby-sitters to see. "Mine," he stated proudly, making Cordelia laugh.
Fred reached out to take it from his hands. "Connor, put that back," she said.
The thirteen-month-old quickly moved his hands behind his back. "Mine," he repeated, his mouth twisting into a pout. "Mine."
Cordelia just shook her head. "Let him keep it," she said. "The guys will be back soon. If Angel finds out, he'll accuse us of depriving Connor of Christmas joy."
"Of course," Lorne said from the other side of the room, "if you don't take it away from him, Angel will accuse you of giving his son a potentially dangerous object."
"Thanks for being so helpful," Cordelia said dryly, while Fred once again attempted to remove the glass ornament from Connor's grip.
Lorne merely smiled, though it faded somewhat as Connor began shrieking. "Mine!" the toddler exclaimed loudly. "Mine! Mine! Mine!"
"What's going on in there?"
Alonna poked her head into the lobby, and she rolled her eyes when she saw Fred attempting to get the ornament out of Connor's grasp. "For God's sake," she muttered, making her way across the room. "How in the hell do you guys manage when I'm away at school?"
"Don't curse in front of Connor," Cordelia told her. "He repeats everything."
Alonna knelt down beside Connor and, in one swift movement, plucked the ornament out of his hands. The toddler merely blinked a few times as he realized his toy was gone. "Mine," he muttered petulantly.
"No," Alonna said firmly. "Not Connor's ornament. Alonna's ornament."
He stared at her silently for a moment before nodding seriously. "'Lonna's," he agreed. Interest in all things Christmas lost, he picked up one of the toy cars he had discarded earlier in the day and started playing.
Alonna grinned, then looked up as if she could feel the three startled gazes focused on her. "Why do you think Angel said I could be his godmother?" she teased.
"Because you promised to baby-sit for free," Fred muttered.
All four of them started laughing, startling Connor out of his playing. Suddenly the front doors were flung open, startling everyone else.
"What the he--" Cordelia stopped abruptly when she saw who was standing in the door. The look on her face immediately turned into a worried one. "Alonna, get the first-aid kit," she said, hurrying towards the door.
The younger girl was already gone before Cordelia even finished her order, and -- after taking one quick look at the state of their friends in the doorway -- Fred hurried after her. "We're gonna need the big one," she called over her shoulder.
Wesley and Gunn were standing in the doorway, holding up a bloody and semi-conscious Doyle. Wesley himself had a large cut along the side of his face, and Gunn was limping on his left leg. Angel was nowhere to be seen.
"I thought you were at the mall picking up last-minute Christmas gifts," Lorne said in confusion. He leaned down to pick up Connor as the child toddled towards his "uncles."
"Damn it, what the hell happened?" Cordelia asked, her earlier chastisement of Alonna forgotten. "And where's Angel?"
Wesley gave her a reassuring look. "Angel will be here soon." He paused, then continued, "and Doyle's fine." He saw that her gaze was focused almost entirely on Doyle. "He just… didn't duck when Santa started throwing his elves."
"When who started throwing what?" Alonna asked. She gave Wesley a worried look as she and Fred hurried over, then glanced at her brother. "Is he being serious, or did he hit his head again?"
"Santa was a demon conjurer with demons for elves," Gunn said, shrugging. "He started tossing them at us."
Fred motioned for them to lower Doyle to the floor. She carefully inspected the bleeding wound on his shoulder. "How big were their teeth?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Doyle groaned. "You don't want to know," he muttered. He looked at Fred with confusion. "When did we get back to the Hyperion?"
Gunn shrugged. "You didn't ask if he'd hit his head."
Cordelia glared at both Gunn and Wesley, who quelled at the ferocity of her look. "Start talking," she ordered.
Wesley reached up and touched the cut on his face, grimacing when his hand came back wet with blood. "We'd just finished shopping when Angel realized that he'd never taken Connor to sit in Santa's lap," he said. He gave Alonna a grateful smile as she handed him a wet cloth for his face. "However, first he needed to make sure that it would be safe."
"Connor's gonna have to wait until next year to meet the man in red," Gunn muttered, rubbing his leg, "what with the whole decapitation thing."
Fred blinked. "I thought you said Santa was a demon conjurer, not a demon."
Gunn and Wesley both grimaced. Doyle chuckled. "We weren't the ones who decapitated him," he said, his voice not quite as shaky as it had been earlier.
"Then who did?" Lorne called out from his chair, where Connor was sitting complacently in his lap.
"He wasn't exactly a good demon conjurer," Gunn said reluctantly. "When Angel told the guy that he knew his elves were actually Fryloc--"
"Ferylioc," Wesley coughed.
"--Ferylioc demons, the guy made a mistake."
"A mistake?" Cordelia repeated.
"He conjured a very large demon," Wesley explained. "I'm afraid that I'll have to check my books to know precisely which species it was."
Alonna knelt down beside her brother and carefully began examining his leg. "Just how large was this de… holy shit!"
She had pulled up Gunn's pant leg to reveal a long, shallow cut, inches wide, running almost all the way down his leg. Fred couldn't help but let out a quiet gasp when she saw it. Behind them, Lorne turned Connor away from them so he wouldn't see the wound.
Gunn carefully avoided his sister's gaze. "It's just a scratch."
Alonna shot him a disbelieving look. Fred did some mental calculations and flinched as the numbers lined up in her head. "Does the mall still have a roof?" she asked.
"Parts of it," Wesley said.
Behind them, Connor let out a shriek when he noticed that Lorne was no longer paying attention to him. Lorne gave the others an apologetic look, and turned back toward the small child in his lap.
"So all four of you were checking up on Santa?" Cordelia asked. "Didn't we agree to ignore Angel when he went into protective daddy mode?"
"Ah, well…" Wesley trailed off and gave Gunn a hopeless look. Gunn, in the meantime, had decided that the ceiling was very interesting and began to study it intently.
Doyle shot them both dirty looks as he rubbed his temple. "Angel and Gunn went to spy on Santa," he explained wearily. "Wesley and I went to the car to load all of the presents into the trunk. They're still there, by the way."
"You had a vision of evil Santa?" Cordelia guessed.
"Yes, he did," Wesley explained. "Since at that point we already knew something was wrong due to part of the mall's ceiling collapsing, however, he feels some anger toward The Powers That Be."
"Can you blame me?" Doyle muttered. "My head hurts. Fred, could you get me--"
"No alcohol," Cordelia said, cutting him off.
Doyle rolled his eyes. "I was going to ask for aspirin."
She raised an eyebrow, and he sighed in resignation. "And maybe a little eggnog to wash it down," he admitted. "Come on, princess, it's Christmas Eve."
"What do you think is the likelihood of him having a concussion?" Cordelia asked Fred.
Fred's brow furrowed for a moment before she turned to Doyle herself. "No alcohol," she said firmly.
Doyle muttered several choice but inaudible words under his breath. As Alonna, Cordelia, and Fred turned their attention entirely on stopping the men's bleeding, the lobby settled into a peaceful silence punctuated only by the odd hiss of pain.
"Daddy?" Connor asked suddenly, looking around as he realized that Angel wasn't there.
Alonna glanced up at Gunn. "Where's Angel?"
"Kate's in charge of the investigation at the mall," he explained. "Angel's helping her with the cover story."
Cordelia and Fred shared a look. "Kate's back in town?" Cordelia asked. "I thought she was still working in San Francisco."
Gunn shrugged. "Apparently not."
"Daddy!" Connor insisted, raising his voice irritably.
"He'll be here soon," Lorne said, sighing as Connor suddenly reached up and grabbed his horns. "Please stop, sugarplum. It hurts when you yank."
Connor merely giggled and reached for his horns again.
----------
Angel paused in front of the Hyperion's door, arms loaded down with presents. After they'd taken care of Santa and his demonic horde, he'd sent his friends back to the hotel to get patched up. The injuries hadn't looked serious enough for a hospital visit, but he couldn't help but feel a little worried; he'd found the car still loaded with shopping bags.
Shaking his head, Angel opened the door and walked inside.
Everyone was gathered around the Christmas tree in the lobby. At first the scene looked cozy, but then he saw the first aid kit open on the floor, and the pile of bandages and wrappers next to it.
Gunn was sitting in one of the chairs, his left leg propped up and covered in bandages. Wesley was sitting on the couch with his eyes closed, holding a bandage against the side of his face. Cordelia was on the other end of the couch, massaging Doyle's neck as he sat on the floor at her feet. A large swath of bandages covered his shoulder, and stood out starkly against his bare chest.
Alonna was sitting in a chair near her brother, a worried expression on her face. Fred sat cross-legged on the floor beside her, her attention focused on Wesley. Lorne sat in another chair, gingerly rubbing the skin around his horns as if it was hurting him for some reason.
Angel gave a relieved smile and brought the bags over to the counter. "Why'd you guys leave the presents in the car?" he asked.
Doyle made a rude gesture in Angel's direction. Lorne waved hello.
Connor was sitting in the floor near the Christmas tree, happily playing. His back was to Angel, but when he heard his father's voice he looked up and grinned broadly. "Daddy!" he said, then turned his attention back toward his toy.
Angel walked over to Connor, then frowned.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked. "How could you guys let my son play with a glass ornament?"