AN: Edited to fix formatting errors. God, this site is just exploding with glitches today...

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This hadn't been how they'd planned to spend Christmas.

It was supposed to be a simple affair. They were supposed to exchange gifts, drink cocoa and relax. About twenty minutes into the day this plan was wrecked. Ratchet was one of those people who went near psychotic when people he loved were threatened, and though he couldn't say he really knew who kidnapped Clank, they were beyond screwed when he got to them. He was supposed to spend today being a normal guy hanging out with his best friend. It was supposed to be simple.

Then again, it had never been simple for them. Life enjoyed throwing things at them. To quote Qwark, Ratchet and Clank were quite apt at snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. This statement echoed in Ratchet's head as he climbed the umpteenth mountain and checked the radar in his hand for the millionth time. Hiking across a barren wasteland to find his best friend wasn't his idea of fun. The wind was sharp and cutting, slamming through him and freezing him despite his coat. Through the maze of trees and underbrush, going in a straight line was impossible. He'd been making circles and zigzags for the past hour in an attempt to get to the valley in the center of these overly large mountains. Simple search and rescue. Ha!

Why was he even out here, anyway? A nagging voice in the back of his head asked. If this were any of his other friends, would he honestly be going this far out of his way for them? Would he wade through neck deep snow to find them? A blush rose to his cheeks as he indignantly increased his pace. Of course he would. He would do this for any of his friends. It was about loyalty. It wasn't about Clank as a person - oh, yeah, right! The voice in his head sneered at him. Like he would ever go this far for anyone else? This was all about Clank, nothing else.

Okay, Ratchet admitted to himself, it was about Clank. But that didn't mean anything... extra. It just meant he was Clank's best friend. That was it, right?

But his stomach never felt twisted when other people were in danger. His head never whirled with possibilites of what could go wrong with them. He never felt as if he was numb when he was seperated from any of them. Ratchet broke into a run, stumbling through the now only knee deep snow. He never knew this kind of driving fear for anyone else. Shoving small trees and bushes aside, he felt thorns scratch at his face and legs, but he didn't focus on it for a nano second. Clank was part of his life. Without him, it was all off kilter. Nothing was quite right. Ratchet wished he knew why he felt so sick knowing Clank was in danger.

The reason, the real truth of it, nagged at the back of his mind. He knew damn well why Clank meant so much to him. Denial, however, was maintainable for the moment, so he found his way into the underground bunker without admitting that he was in love. As he ran through narrow hallways, knocked out guards and listen carefully for that familiar voice, he felt as if his chest was splintering. Damnit, now was not the time for this.

He'd been so attached to Clank for so long. It was so hard to continually lie, to himself and everyone around him, that Clank was just a friend. Even just a best friend didn't sound like the correct title. He told himself it wasn't love, was just a surface attraction or puppy love or a crush. Anything to try to make it not sound like Clank was his soul mate.

But if Clank wasn't, why did Ratchet's blood run cold when he heard Clank's tortured screams?

Clank would later have to give Ratchet the details of what happened. Ratchet was so angry that all he remembered was a blur. He didn't register firing at the sea of gold, black and red robots. He didn't notice when they swarmed him, because with a one minded, controlled fury that was outright scary, he destroyed them all in two minutes flat. The world was a blur of scrap metal and broken bodies and yet all he could focus on was Clank. The small silver robot had a cut running down part of his head. Ratchet's one minded spell was broken and he gasped.

"Clank, are you alright?" Heedless of the oil and metal everywhere, Ratchet kneeled down, gingerly reaching for his friend. Turning Clank's head slightly, he saw it was indeed not a scratch but a true cut. Not a crack, either. A refined, straight line right through part of his head. "Oh, no..."

"I - I am fine," Clank said softly, in a tone of voice that suggested he was utterly tired. "I knew you'd come."

"Clank," Ratchet muttered, unable to tear his eyes away from the cut. "I'm sorry. If I'd gotten here sooner-"

The robot's arms wrapped around him, and their eyes met. Somehow Ratchet knew Clank knew what he was feeling. Clank knew Ratchet loved him in that moment. The amount of worry and stress had finally worn through Ratchet's defenses, and his teary eyes gave it away. The Lombax held him close, not saying those dreaded three words. He wanted to, but they wouldn't leave his lips as he quietly let a few tears leak out his eyes.

"Ratchet?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's go home."

And they did. It was supposed to be Christmas, but in spite of the season Ratchet had refused decorations as tacky. Despite that, he promptly switched his attitude the second Clank was situated on the couch. Garlands, lights, a tree, ornaments, tinsel, and even that Santa hat Ratchet swore he'd never wear. Biting his lip, Ratchet looked around. For nearly ten minutes, he made small adjustments to everything. Another ornament there, lights more the right... He even went out, got more decorations and came back, which totally contradicted his earlier attitude of Christmas being meaningless. Clank looked on with a sort of cross between shock and a smile.

When Ratchet finally plopped down alongside Clank with some eggnog, he looked rather solemn. Clank's neon green eyes met his forest green ones, and then Ratchet's face broke into a smile.

"I'm sorry our Christmas didn't go as planned," Ratchet said softly, and Clank smiled as they sipped eggnog in silence for a while. With the lights dimmed, the Christmas tree outshone everything in the room. There was a warmth to the room that didn't have anything to do with the heat, and the robot looked over at his friend.

"I noticed you didn't put up any mistletoe, Ratchet."

The Lombax cringed, as if visibly injured. "After today, would you even WANT me to kiss you?"

That was it. The robot's hand flew to his head. That was why their house looked like a Christmas department store had thrown up. That was why Ratchet didn't mind letting Clank have most of the eggnog or hog the couch. But this wasn't just guilt, was it? Guilt alone didn't make a person look so utterly defeated and washed up. Clank looked away, thoughtfully. He'd always been aware that Ratchet cared for him as more than a friend, though they'd both done their best to avoid the awkward moment where they'd have to talk about it. It was just so hard to say it out loud, for either of them. And now Ratchet didn't think Clank returned his feelings anymore.

"Being tortured didn't take away our love, Ratchet," Clank pulled the surpised Lombax down by his collar, "In fact, that's the most illogical idea I've ever heard."

Then Ratchet was lost in the cool, passionate kiss he'd thought he could never get. His eyes closed instinctually for a moment before he allowed himself to become totally lost in the kiss. There was no need to kid himself anymore. If this wasn't real, he didn't know what was, and he felt the guilt he'd carried on the flight home lift off his shoulders.

This hadn't been how they'd planned to spend Christmas.

It was much, much better.