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A Most Immoral Santa.

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This story is No. 5 in the series "Grim up North.". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: “HEY! GET OFFA ME YOU SANTA FREAK!” Dawn gets a very special Christmas gift.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Miscellaneous > Music(Recent Donor)DaveTurnerFR1512,120051,7979 Dec 109 Dec 10Yes
A Most Immoral Santa.
By Dave Turner.

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or this traditional Christmas song. I write these stories for fun not profit.

Crossover: SongFic; Father Christmas Do Not touch Me.

Spelling, Punctuation, and Grammar; Written in glorious English-English.

Timeline: Grim Up North series of fics, Christmas 2003.

Words: 2000+

Warnings: Smut?

Summary: “HEY! GET OFFA ME YOU SANTA FREAK!” Dawn gets a very special Christmas gift.


Author’s Note; If it hadn’t been for jrabbit’s fic, ‘When the Snowman Brings the Snow’ I’d never have written this.


Christmas Eve, Dawn and Violet’s Flat, Middlesbrough, Cleveland, England.

“…does he ride a red nosed reindeer? Does come upon a sleigh, do the fairies keep him sober for the da-ay?” Dawn sang the old, Slade, Christmas hit as she danced merrily around the flat. Her flatmate, Violet, had gone home to the States to visit her family for the holiday leaving Dawn to her own devices. It was Christmas Eve and she was going to a party with her sister; Dawn had to ask herself, just how dire was that? Glancing at her wristwatch, she noted that it was nearly time for Buffy to arrive.

Walking into the hall, Dawn looked at herself in the full length mirror that hung on the wall opposite the front door. Brushing her hair away from her face, she happened to notice the reflection of the sprig of mistletoe that hung forlornly from the ceiling. Sighing dejectedly she wondered why she’d bothered putting it up, the only people she’d kissed under it were Giles and Xander and that was like kissing her dad and brother.

It was beginning to look as if another Christmas was going to go by without any romance. Sighing sadly she wondered if she’d ever meet ‘the one’; of course it didn’t help with Buffy always hanging around and chasing away all her potential boyfriends. Just as Dawn was beginning to sink into self-pity she heard a terrific crash come from the living room; it sounded as if someone had fallen through the ceiling.

Rushing into the room, Dawn found a tubby, red faced, jolly looking gentleman dressed in a red suit sitting in the fireplace. Lumps of brickwork lay all around him as he rubbed his head; soot stained his white hair, beard and the fur that trimmed his red suit. In a flash all Anya’s tales of the evil Santa Claws resurfaced in her mind; she eyed the distance to Vi’s room where her friend’s weapon’s chest lay. Too far Dawn decided, plus she’d have to pass in front of the strange man now sitting in the shambles that had once been her fireplace. Her own collection of weapons was too far away, locked up in her bedroom; where was Buffy when you actually needed her?

“Ho-Ho-Ho!” Cried the red faced man as he caught sight of Dawn; he climbed to his feet, his black boots crunching on the wreckage of the fireplace.

“W-Who are you?” Dawn asked nervously; it wasn’t the snappiest or most original question, but she thought she needed to say something, take control of the situation.

“Ho-Ho-Ho!” Laughed the man, he looked Dawn up and down appreciatively, a predatory glint in his eye, “My name is Father Christmas,” he told her with a lascivious grin, “I came down the chimney ‘cause I didn’t think you’d let me in the front door.”

“Too right,” Dawn muttered too quietly for the old man to hear, “Hey,” she said more loudly, “I’ve totally not written you a letter in years. What’s the deal and I hope you’re going to, like, pay for that fireplace.”

“Ho-Ho-HO!” Chortled Father Christmas, “Don’t worry about that,” he gestured dismissively at the ruined fireplace and stepped closer to Dawn. “Anyway, I’ve never liked little girls…”

“You don’t?” Dawn tried to step away from the red-nosed Father Christmas, but she found herself backed up against the arm of the settee and couldn’t retreat any further.

“No!” Father Christmas breathed sherry fumes into Dawn’s face, “I don’t like little girls,” he placed his hands on Dawn’s breasts, “BIGGER ONES ARE BETTER!”

“HEY! GET OFFA ME YOU SANTA FREAK!” Dawn screamed as she fell backwards over the settee and landed on the cushions with Santa on top of her.

“HO-HO-HO!” Cried Father Christmas happily.


After paying off the taxi driver and wishing him a Merry Christmas, Buffy turned and neatly side stepped the large, steaming pile of reindeer droppings someone had left on the sidewalk (or pavement as they called it in England.) Perhaps she would have thought more of it if she hadn’t been distracted by a group of children out carol singing. Watching them suspiciously she listened carefully to the words of the carol they were singing.

“Praise the great one’s only son,
Praise or you will be undone.
Death and pain to most he brings,
Risen with darkness in his wings.
Born again no more to lie,
Proof that even death might die.
Born to crush the human race,
Wipe them out and leave no trace.
Hark, the nameless cultists sing,
Glory to our dreaming King.”

Making a mental note to check which school the children attended, Buffy skipped merrily across the frosty car park. Using her own key, Buffy let herself into the block of apartments where Dawn lived, she ran up the stairs to her sister’s front door.

Just as she was about to knock; she could have let herself in, she had a key, but even Buffy thought that would be rude, her slayer hearing picked out what sounded like a struggle going on inside the flat. Listening closely, Buffy was sure she heard Dawn cry out.

“Freakin’ Father Christmas, don’t you dare, touch me there again!” Dawn’s voice came clearly to Buffy’s ears through the door.

There was an answering, *HO-HO-HO!*, followed by the sound of a resounding slap across someone’s face.

“DAWN!” Cried Buffy as she tried to fit her key into the lock; for some reason she couldn’t seem to fit it into the key hole

“I totally told you, Father Christmas, do not touch…HEY!” Dawn cried her shout was followed by the sound of material ripping, “YOU PERV! That was my favourite blouse!”

Giving up on the key, Buffy threw it to one side and started to pound on the door.

“DAWN!” She shouted through the letter box, “Dawn let me in!”

“I’M WARNING YOU!” Dawn’s voice was accompanied by the sound of breaking china, “My sister’s the slayer an-and I’ve totally got lots of slayer friends!”

“HO-HO-HO!” Came the unimpressed reply.

“Don’t you come any closer or…” Dawn’s voice became muffled and indistinct.

Frantic by now, Buffy tried to break down the door, she bounced! Realising there must be some kind of barrier spell protecting the door, Buffy searched her pockets for her cellphone. Hitting one of her speed dial numbers she waited impatiently for Willow to answer. The witch answered on the second ring.



“Willow, come quick,” Buffy explained breathlessly, “Dawn’s apartment, something’s got her and I can’t get in.”

“Be right there!” Willow hung up.

Listening at the door Buffy heard Dawn’s voice once more. This time she didn’t sound so-so panicky? In fact she was sounding as if she was starting to enjoy herself.

“Oh, Father Christmas do…” Moaned Dawn loudly.

Looking through the letter box again, Buffy saw a pair of red clad legs carry Dawn into her bedroom!

“Oh! My god!” Buffy cried in fear and alarm, Dawn had been captured by the evil Santa Claws!

Just then, as if by magic, Willow materialised right next to Buffy.

“Sorry it took so long for me to get here,” Willow apologised, “but I had to pick up a few things…Kennedy and Faith are on their way too.” Willow took a deep breath, “What’s the problem?”

Buffy explained.

“Father Christmas!” Dawn’s scream of (pleasure?) reached Buffy’s ears as Willow went to work on the barrier protecting the door.

“Wow, Buffy,” Willow shook her head after passing her hand over the door, “there’s some wicked powerful mojo protecting this door. I’m not sure if I can get it open.”

“But you’ve got to!” Tears started in Buffy’s eyes, “Can’t you hear her?”

Willow could indeed hear Dawn’s cries, it sort of sounded to her as if maybe Dawn was enjoying herself, but no, that couldn’t be right.

“What it doing to her?” Buffy sobbed with frustration, “She’s calling for dad!”

Just then Faith, Kennedy and Giles arrived with Xander in tow.

“My god Buffy!” Giles joined the crowd outside the door, “What’s happening…and what’s Dawn doing in there?”

“HO-HO-HO!” Laughed Father Christmas as Dawn’s screams got more piercing.

Faith and Kennedy exchanged looks and nodded to each other.

“Hey, B,” Faith tugged at Buffy’s sleeve, “you sure the kid’s in trouble? Sounds to me like she’s having a good time.”

“I agree with Faith,” Kennedy said trying to keep a straight face, “it doesn’t sound to me as if Dawn’s in any trouble.”

“At least not yet…” sniggered Faith.

Just as Buffy was about to explain what she’d heard earlier there was one last, final, climactic scream from inside the flat, followed by a strange calm. Slowly the door swung open of its own accord as they all heard the sound of sleigh bells and reindeer hooves from the direction of the roof. A final “HO-HO-HO!” faded into the distance and then…silence.

Cautiously the little huddle made up of slayers, witch, watcher and independent building contractor moved into the flat. They saw the line of Dawn’s discarded clothes leading to her bedroom, along with the strange sooty footprints that stained the carpet.

Exchanging a silent look with Willow, Buffy nodded and burst into her sister’s bedroom with Willow hard on her heels. Standing in the doorway their mouths open in shock they found Dawn lying on her rumpled bed, legs akimbo, naked and with a silly grin on her face.

“DAWN!” Screamed Buffy as she rushed to her sister’s side.


Edging around Kennedy and Faith (who were standing outside Dawn’s room pretending not to look as if they were trying to see what was going on), Xander led Giles into the living room.

“Bit of a mess,” Giles observed as he gestured towards the fireplace.

“Yeah,” Xander agreed, “that fireplace is gonna need some serious work or they’ll lose their deposit.”

“What do you think?” Giles nodded his head in the direction of Dawn’s room, “Buffy overreacting?”

“Oh yeah,” Xander nodded his head knowingly, “Just Dawn and her boyfriend having a little Christmas fun,” Xander winked knowingly, “if you know what I mean.”

“I didn’t think Dawn had a boyfriend,” Giles, for want of anything better to do with his hands, started to polish his glasses.

“And neither did I or Buffy,” Xander knelt down by the wrecked fireplace and looked up the flue, “lets keep it that way, eh?”

“Of course,” Giles replaced his glasses, “my discretion on this entire episode is guaranteed.” Giles looked around and caught sight of the kitchen, “Tea?”

“Yeah, please,” Xander got out a measuring tape and started to measure up for a new fireplace, “four sugars please.”

The End.

*: ‘Hark the Nameless Cultist Sing’ from the Cthulhu hymnal sung to the tune, ‘Hark the Herald Angles Sing’.

The link;

The Words (sung to the tune of Glory, Glory Hallelujah);

At twelve o'clock on Christmas Eve, she tiptoed up the stairs
She stood beneath the mistletoe and combed her silken hair
Then Santa Claus slipped down the flue and caught her unawares
And this is what she said, Ohhhhhhhh

Father Christmas do not touch me, Father Christmas do not touch me
Father Christmas do not touch me, as she stood beneath the mistletoe

"Oh my name is Father Christmas" he informed her as he met her
She said "Good grief, it's seven years since I sent you a letter!"
He said "I can't stand little girls, BIGGER ONES ARE BETTER!!"
And this is what she said, Ohhhhhhhh

Father Christmas do not touch me, Father Christmas do not touch me
Father Christmas do not touch me, as she stood beneath the mistletoe

Father Christmas do not touch …, Father Christmas do not touch …
Father Christmas do not touch …, as she stood beneath the mistletoe

Father Christmas do not …, Father Christmas do not …
Father Christmas do not …, as she stood beneath the mistletoe

Father Christmas do …, Father Christmas do …
Father Christmas do …, as she stood beneath the mistletoe

Father Christmas …, Father Christmas …, Father Christmas…!
As she stood beneath the mistletoe

Father …, Father …, FATHER…!!
As she stood beneath the mistletoe

Faaa …, Faaa …, FAAA …!
As she stood beneath the mistletoe

He's a most immoral Santa, he's a most immoral Santa,
He's a most immoral Santa, as she stood beneath the mistletoe


The End

You have reached the end of "A Most Immoral Santa.". This story is complete.

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