Never The Same

by Dyna Dee

When the worst happens, it's hard to imagine how life can go on. This is a story about love, family, loss, and picking up the pieces. A bit of a sad tale, but with a hopeful ending.

Never the Same

By Dyna Dee

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of GW or make any money writing about the characters.

Warnings: 1x2, 3x4, 5xSally. A darker Christmas fic with, I believe, a hopeful ending. Thanks again to Karina for editing and encouragement.

Not for the first time, I have to wonder what the hell am I doing living is such a damn cold place. It's freezing outside, and the car's defroster is doing its best to keep the windows from fogging up. An involuntary shiver shoots up my spine. I hate the cold. I really, really hate it. And tonight it's bone-aching cold outside. Old man Winter is definitely doing a hell of a job tonight, trying to take over this part of the world.

It's been gloomy and dark all day, but really dark for about an hour now, and the temperature plummeted drastically. The weatherman predicts snow this evening, and judging from how cold it is and the dark and low clouds overhead, the guy has a decent chance of getting it right this time. It's a good thing my car heater works The drive from the office has been just long enough to allow it to raise the interior to an almost comfortable temperture. I still think the built-in seat warmer top my all-time favorite invention. Right now, my ass is nice and toasty warm.

My exit is coming up so I have only a few moments to reconsider the detour I decided on only an hour ago. Common sense tells me to take the exit and go home; I'm expected, and dinner will be waiting. Plus, if it starts snowing in the next few minutes, the roads will be more hazardous, further slowing my return home, which will probably land me in even more trouble with those waiting for me.

I brush aside those concerns and drive past the exit, feeling the delay home is an important one. Thankfully, most of the traffic veers off onto the highway and rush-hour traffic eases, if only just a little bit. I can only hope it stays that way.

I can't explain why going back to the old house is so important, or why I have to go tonight. Part of the reason has to be all the memories that have been a constant on my mind the past month. I feel the need to give into them, to remember and embrace them, if just for tonight.

Remembering the past and people who were a part of it is not unusual during the month of December. This is the time of year for celebration; not only for the three major holidays, but also for the end of the wars with our gundams. People all over the world typically gather together with their families and friends to celebrate the holidays. Those celebrations are usually accompanied by good food, warm hearts and cherished moments. Past celebrations, memories now, are both good and bad, have brought pain and comfort in the remembering. Tonight, I'm experiencing a bit of both.

For the past twenty years our friends and families have celebrated the holidays together. I'm sure that's the main reason this time of year has always been my favorite. Well, it used to be my favorite, but that's no longer the case. December isn't a month I look forward to any longer. That and so much else in my life changed three years ago, when everything came crashing down on us. I don't believe the holidays will ever be the same again.

My thoughts recently have not only centered on the end of the war or happier times, but also of the inescapable reminder of unbearable loss and the struggle to go on. There's an ache in my heart, and an emptiness that was once filled with so much happiness. Alright, I'll admit, two years down the road, that the pain is not as sharp as it used to be. It seems the old adage about time healing all wounds, even a broken heart, has some truth to it.

Tonight, I blame memories of past Christmases for compelling me to return to the house on Luxemburg Lane. It's not the first time I've done this, and won't be the last. But tonight it feels different, like there's some kind of closure that needs to happen before I can go home.

Executing a right turn onto the familiar street, I'm immediately filled with nostalgic memories. Both sides of the lane have beautiful, respectable homes that are old yet well-kempt and stately. Almost every one of them is decorated with holiday lights and a few even have figurines on their snow covered lawns. Here and there are the exceptions: a home that remains dark in contrast to the odd, nauseatingly cheerful one, decorated with cartoon figures covering a good part of the yard and roof.

I slow down to survey some of the more familiar homes and wonder how our former neighbors are doing and what might have happened in their lives since we moved. We really didn't move that far, but it's odd how quickly I lost touch with people we've known for so many years. I guess it was just easier to let them go, less painful.

We lived here for seventeen years, found happiness and acceptance in this neighborhood. It wasn't long before we got to know almost every person in a two-block radius of our home. I played with the children, we socialized with their parents and helped organize block parties. It was a great place to raise a kid and an unlikely yet comfortable niche for two former gundam pilots.

It hardly seems possible that twenty years ago last August, at the ripe old of age of nineteen, and two years into our relationship, Heero and I decided on the spur of the moment to make things legal. Without telling anyone, we got the necessary paperwork filled out and submitted. Then one day, during our lunch hour, we tied the knot at the Sanq courthouse with only Wufei and Sally in attendance as our witnesses.

I can still see the look on their faces when we drove them to the courthouse instead of the café where we were supposed to have lunch. We told them about the change of plans and our intentions to marry. Wufei scoffed, and looked at us like we were out of our minds. He can thank Sally for saving his hide that day. She laughed and clapped her hands at the news before hugging us both and wishing us a long and happy life together. Her warmth and encouragement that day help me to accept her as a part of our inner circle, an honorary member of our gundam pilot family.

The ink had barely begun to dry on the official certificate of marriage when Heero and I began searching for a home, something neither of us had any memories of but desperately wanted.

Thanks to Heero having hidden away a substantial wad of cash from hacking the enemy's bank accounts during the war, we were assured by our over-zealous real estate agent she could located us a very decent home in an excellent neighborhood.

We concentrated our search around this particular area because of its closeness to work and the quality of the schools nearby. It was reported to be a safe, family oriented part of the city. That might have seemed odd and boring choice for two former gundam pilots, but Heero and I had big plans for our future, and the house on Luxemburg Lane fit all the criteria, including three bedrooms, two baths, a large fenced backyard and a two-car garage.

One year later, Hilde, who had volunteered to be a surrogate for us after I told her of our marriage and plans, gave birth to our daughter, Shea Helena Maxwell-Yuy. That beautiful little girl with black hair, like her mother, and the violet eyes of her proud father, captured and healed our war-torn hearts. She filled our lives with hugs, kisses, diapers, schedules, and endless hours walking the floor. But most of all she brought into our lives a wealth of love and happiness. The addition of that little girl into our lives turned our house into a true home. The three of us were a family and life was better than good; it was great!

Pulling over to the curb opposite our former home, I put the car in neutral, turn off the lights, but leave the car idling and the heater on, hoping to keep the car warm. I tug the knitted hat over the top of my ears, take a deep breath, then turn my head to gaze at the house across the street. The sight of it brings back the familiar ache of loss and and longing that pulls at my heart. How I loved that house, where so many memories we made. I close my eyes and recall sixteen years of happiness, picture the best and worst moments. I can almost hear the echoing sounds of a house full of life, laughter and love, followed by the haunting memory of loss, grief and despair.

Several moments pass before I manage to open my eyes again, returning to the here and now. I wipe away the moisture leaking from my eyes before gazing once again at the place we had once called home.

It's three days until Christmas Eve, and it's nice to see the new homeowners have a small tree displayed in the front window, probably sitting on a tabletop. It's lit with small blinking lights of red, yellow, green and blue, and topped with a star outlined with white lights. But the yard outside the house is dark. Only the porch light brightens the entrance and illuminates a green wreath with a big red bow on the front door.

My mind jumps back four years, to the same yard lit up so brightly our neighbors requested we turn them off by nine so they could get some sleep. For some reason Heero had decided to go all out for Christmas that year, which was unusual because I was the one who always pushed for decorations and a big show for Christmas. But that year it had definitely been Heero's idea. Boredom probably led to that decision. He had accumulated too many vacation days that year and had been forced by Human Resources to take a couple of weeks off or lose them. That man of mine never had never been very good at sitting around and relaxing.

It started one night, around the first of December, when I returned home from work to a surprise. Not only was the Christmas tree displayed in the window, lit and fully timmed, but there was also a new addition - a string of blue lights framing the outside entry. I knew those additional lights were something we'd not stored in the garage. They were definitely new.

The following night I arrived home to find the edge of the roof and corners of the house also lined with blue lights. Heero had been shopping again. The man was on a roll.

On the third night, the bushes were covered with small green blinking lights. Also, the jasmine lining the sidewalk to the front door was lit up with lights that were a bit larger and white. My husband was obviously enjoying himself.

And so the lights and decorations continued to grow with each passing day. Soon the stone planters at the front of the yard were also strung with multi-colored lights. Then one by one the lawn ornaments and flood lights began to make an appearance.

With absolute clarity I remember driving up to the house one particular evening, on a night as frigidly cold as this one. I found Shea and Heero on the front lawn, both bundled up against the cold. Puffs of white seeped from out of their scarf-wrapped faces as the two of them worked to assemble a figure that looked like a white angel. Shea's miniature white poodle, aptly named Barkley, stood on the sidewalk looking miserable. I remember wondering if it was the cold that made him feel that way, or if it was that ridiculous baby blue, quilted down jacket Shea always made him wear.

I'd pulled the car into the garage, then walked through the open door to join them. Barkley came to life as I rounded the corner and began doing this thing - barking, his tail a blur from wagging so quickly. The dog turned sideways, signaling he wanted to be picked up. I took pity on the little guy and scooped him up under one arm and rubbed his ears with my free hand. As always, I was thanked with a wet and sloppy dog kiss that instantly froze on my cheek. Funny, the things you remember years later.

Shea, having recently turned sixteen, turned to greet me. She was wearing her favorite purple down jacket with a knit white scarf draped around her neck and lower face. On her head was a matching tam, which covered her head as well and a great deal of her long, braided black hair, which hung over her shoulder. She pulled down the scarf, revealing a dazzling smile. As always, her grin was wide and infectious and her eyes had danced with happiness.

"Look, Dad, Papa let me choose the angel. Isn't she great?"

I'd given Heero a questioning look. My husband was not a religious man, but we had agreed that Shea should be free to ask about religion and choose her own path. She'd attended various local churches with her friends, enjoyed the activities and found a lot of good people. She wanted to believe in God, in forgiveness and a purpose for life as well as a heaven. She also took to embracing the Christian observation of Easter and Christmas. No doubt the lawn angel was a nod to her budding religious beliefs.

Heero shrugged and grinned back at me, his eyes as bright as Shea's as he said, "Her idea."

It was pretty obvious we were both putty in our daughter's hands. Heero just couldn't seem to say no to her. He let Shea have whatever she desired, within reason. I still don't understand how it fell to me to be the disciplinarian. Fortunately for me, Shea was an angel, needing little if any scolding. Truth be told, I wasn't very good in that department either, was pretty much the soft touch Heero was.

That night, that scene with my family in the front yard, is a snapshot picture in my mind, something I pull up often, review and treasure.

Heero and Shea continued adding decorations to the front yard daily, adding something new every day, all the way up to Christmas Eve. Their growing display became quite the attraction for neighbors as well as others from the nearby neighborhoods. More than a few people stopped by on their way home each night to see what had been added to the front yard. Old lady Sutherland, who lived up the block, thanked us for brightening up her holiday season.

Unfortunately, having a large display, with all those lights and decorations, had a very big downside. It took us three damn weeks to unplug, roll up, label and sort hundreds of strands of lights and extension cords as well as the lawn decorations. Once that enormous chore had been accomplished, we had to find some place to store all of Heero's new acquisitions. Just about everything wound up jammed up in the rafters in the garage.

Then just when we thought we'd finished with Christmas, the electric bill arrived with a shocking extra two-hundred and fifty extra credits above our normal bill for the month of December. Heero's eyes just about popped out of his head after seeing the total amount due. I smile now at the memory, still so vivid in my mind. Not even the large utility bill had made either one of us regret the large display. After all, what was money in the face of all the happiness our little family had shared that winter? We were fortunate to have had so many wonderful Christmases over the years, but that particular Christmas stands out. I think it was the best.

It's been four years since that wonderful Christmas, but it feels like a lifetime has passed since then. Now, in retrospect, I suppose having had such a perfect Christmas should have given me a clue about what was coming. Hadn't I learned early in life that I should never count on anything to last, either the good or the bad? That thought leads me to memories of the next year, and my smile fades until it's completely gone.

Three years ago, everything changed. In an instant, my life came crashing down and nothing will ever be the same.

I don't stop the flood of memories of that time from rushing back, though I don't exactly welcome them either. As usual, our friends had gathered together at our home to celebrate Thanksgiving. Even though it's typically an American holiday and we live in Europe, I've always liked what it represents; a gathering together of friends and family for expressing gratitude for them and all that we have.

Quatre and Trowa had come with their family all the way from L4, as they did every year. Fifteen year old Quinton was a perfect replica of Quatre at that age, and just as polite. Their ten-year old, redheaded twins, Katina and Kaleb, took after Catherine, their surrogate mother. They were no less well behaved than their brother, but were often a bit of a handful. Kaleb seemed to enjoy getting into mischief, and Katina liked being the center of attention and asking endless questions.

Wufei and Sally, who also live and work in Sanq, have always been frequent visitors to our home, along with their eighteen year old son, Shen. Yet unlike his serious father, Shen Chang was interested in sports, was outgoing and the life of the party. His charisma and great sense of humor helped him to become very popular in school with both teachers and students. The girls, Sally told me, adored him. Much to his father's dismay, Shen had recently declared acting was his intended college major. With his good looks and talent, everyone believed he was going to be very successful, especially his very supportive mother. Wufei had a hard time hiding his disappointment, but he held onto the hope his son would rethink his future once he started at the University the next fall.

Thanksgiving that year was, as usual, filled with laughter, great food and family. There could be no denying how close the five of us former gundam pilots had grown, and the passing years only strengthened our love and admiration for each other. We're a bit unconventional, as families go, but there's no doubt about it, we are a family. We couldn't have been more pleased that our children had grown up together and became the best of friends, enjoying each other's company whenever they got the chance to be in the same place.

The Saturday after that Thanksgiving began normally enough. Our families had gathered together at our home once again for a night of fun before Quatre and Trowa took their bunch back to L4 for Christmas. They would return again on New Years for Relena's annual Peace Ball where we would all ring in the New Year together, as we did every year.

The three older children approached us around seven thirty, asking permission to go to the movies. Shen was excited about a new space movie that had premiered a few days earlier, and the three of them wanted to see it together. The request wasn't by any means unusual. Shen had been driving for three years and had often taken his two "cousins" on short trips to the movies, for ice cream or hanging out at the local cafe. Since the theater was only two miles away, and having our children's word they would return home by eleven, we agreed to let them go. With beaming smiles, fists full of money and their promise to return on time, the teenagers left, taking Wufei's sedan.

The twins made it know they very unhappy about being left behind, but Trowa had insisted they stay with us, allowing the older teens some time to themselves.

Playing games, laughing and chatting about events in our lives, the hours passed quickly. The twins, bored with the adult conversation, had taken Barkley upstairs with them to Shea's room with the intention of watching a movie.

It was close to ten thirty when Quatre suddenly gasped and clutched his chest. We watched in shock as his eyes rolled up in his head and he passed out. Everyone in the room jumped up from their seats, alarmed and concerned for his welfare. Trowa managed to catch Quat before he face planted on the floor and carefully laid him down on the vacated sofa. We gathered around our unconscious friend, noting his ashen face and shallow breathing.

Much to our surprise, Trowa reached into the front pocket of Quatre's trousers and pulled out a small metal box. He opened it and spilled out into his open palm a couple of tiny white pills. Selecting one, he returned the others back to the box and sealed it before setting it on his husband's chest. We watched as he gently opened Quatre's mouth and set the pill under his tongue.

"He has a heart condition?" Sally questioned as she knelt next to Quatre and took up his wrist to check his pulse.

The look on everyone's face showed alarm at this unexpected news. We waited for Trowa to explain further.

"It's not serious... yet," he began, his eyes never leaving his husband. "The doctor believes stress is the reason his heart beats irregularly at times, which causes him to feel lightheaded. My opinion is that it's his damn space heart, but the doctor don't want to hear anything about that. When Quatre tries to tell them about it, they look at us as if we're insane. So his doctor prescribed these pills to regulate his heartbeat when it acts up."

I wanted to ask what the hell could Quatre have been stressed about in our home? We'd been having a good time and he seemed relaxed enough to me. But before I could ask those questions, Wufei spoke up.

"So this has happened before?" He'd asked, his worried expression matched that of everyone in the room.

Trowa's gaze remained on his partner's face as he answered, "He's never lost consciousness before."

In my memory, it seems like less than a minute had passed before Quatre's eyes fluttered and finally opened.

"What happened?" he asked, looking both mystified and embarrassed.

"You passed out," Trowa replied as he tenderly brushed a stray lock of blond hair from off Quatre's forehead.

The reclining man's brows pinched together while his hand went to his chest and he began rubbing it. "I... I felt something, but... I'm not sure what it means. I don't think I've ever felt anything quite like it before, but it was strong and painful.

"I think we should take you to the hospital and have you checked out," Sally wisely advised.

"I believe I'm alright," Quatre said, though he didn't sound convinced. He looked to Trowa. "What do you think?"

"You scared me."

"I'm sorry."

They calmly debated for several minutes about what they should do, but in the end decided to wait for Quinton's return. Quatre seemed fairly confident he'd be well enough to return to their hotel by that time. Everyone settled back into their chairs, not quite as relaxed as before the blond man's collapse. The conversation was less light and the smiles in the room a bit forced.

I'd escaped to the kitchen on the pretext of having to refresh our drinks and getting some water for Quatre. From the back of the house, I barely heard the faint sound of a knock on the front door. Barkley began barking up in Shea's room, obviously having heard it also. I recall glancing at the clock on the wall: it was eleven twenty-two. The kids were late getting home, I thought. I remembered thinking I was going to have to talk with them about being more responsible. I figured they'd probably stopped for a treat on the way home and lost track of the time.

"Duo!" Sally appeared at the door to the kitchen. Her expression was anxious, her face a bit pale. "Come quickly."

Leaving the drinks on the counter, I rushed to follow her back to the living room, thinking Quatre must have taken a turn for the worse. What I didn't expected was to find two uniformed police officers standing in our livingroom.

Everyone in the room seemed frozen in place, their expressions grave. It was ominously silent. Quatre was sitting up, leaning against Trowa, whose arm had been protectively set across his shoulders. Both of them had looked pale and worried. Sally sat next to Wufei, with Trowa on her right. Her hand clutched tightly to her husband's while she gave the police officer her full attention. Heero stood rigid next to the fireplace, his face tight with worry. Alarmed by the two men and the tense atmosphere in the room, I went immediately to Heero's side, close enough for our shoulders to touch.

I looked at the policemen and asked, "What's going on?"

You could tell which man was the lead officer, he stood forward just slightly, with notepad in his hand, his hat tucked under his arm. Other than those details, I honestly don't remember much about him. I do remember both men were somber, their expressions grave. It didn't take a genius to know something was horribly wrong. That next moment is seared into my brain, never to be forgotten. It began when I broke the silence by blurting out my worst fear. "The kids, are they alright?"

"May I have everyone's names please?" the officer with the tablet asked.

Wufei did the honors, introducing the entire group to the officer in charge. After which, that man looked at each of us in turn and shook his head with pity evident in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, folks, but I'm afraid I have bad news."

An accident.

Suspected drunk driver.

High speed SUV.

Sedan hit head-on.

No survivors.

In that horrifying, frozen-in-time moment, my world spiraled down to a hell I never could have imagined. All of us were slammed with shock and a grief so deep it was unbearable. Disbelief and horror were our initial reactions, but it only took a moment or two before it finally sank in that we had lost our beloved children. I turned to Heero to see the horror and heartbreak I felt mirrored on his face. I threw my arms around him and held on tightly, and both of our bodies shook as we wept for our daughter.

My hands tighten on the steering wheel as more images pop into my mind. Flashes of that horrific night and of what had happened next. There was a shout from Trowa as Quatre clutched at his chest and, for the second time that night, he passed out. Sally, tears coursing down her face, switched immediately into doctor mode and rushed to Quatre's side. I can still see the stern expression she wore when demanding the police call an ambulance.

Trowa was holding Quatre in his arms, wearing the most tortured expression I'd even seen on his face. "The twins," he said as a single tears slipped down his cheek and went unchecked.

"Duo and I will stay with them," Heero had offered, barely holding himself together. "Do you want us to tell them?"

Trowa had completely lost for an answer. "Should I tell them now, or tomorrow? I don't know if they can handle the news about..." He has to stop and collect himself before continuing. "...about their brother, and then watch their father being taken to the hospital. I have to go with Quatre, so I can't be here for them if they hear the news tonight. How can I leave them like that? What should I do?"

"Tell them tomorrow," Sally wisely advised, as she stood from kneeling at Quatre's side, choking on her own tears. "Maybe they can stay here tonight. The morning is soon enough to tell them what's happened."

"I'll check on them," Wufei quietly offered, roughly wiping tears from off his face. It was a wasted effort because as soon as his cheeks were dry, more tears leaked out. But our stoic, reliable and steady Chinese friend never shrunk from what he considered his duty, and in this instance he was helping not only Quatre and Trowa by seeing to the children upstairs, but sparing his wife from that duty as well.

The medics came rushing in at the point, and in a flurry of activity they had Quatre, who had been showing signs of coming around, strapped to the stretcher and whisked out the door, with Trowa hanging onto his hand.

Wufei moved to stairs to carry out his promised task. I remember that his stance was all wrong; his shoulders were drooped and his head bowed low. His looked so unlike the proud man I knew him to be, but right then he had the appearance of a broken man, which is exactly how I had felt inside.

Sally remained at the bottom of the stairs, looking miserable while waiting for her husband to return. "Can we take your car to the hospital?" she'd asked in a choked voice. Only then had I remembered that Shen had taken their car. They had no way to get to the hospital or home.

Heero located the keys to his car and placed then in Sally's hand. He stood in front of her for a long moment before taking one more step forward to embrace her. He held her close for several long moments, and the only sound I remember hearing was the ragged breathing and sniffling. I joined in the hug and the three of us very quietly fell apart.

Wufei came down the stairs a few moments later and told us that the twins had fallen asleep during the movie. He reported having turned off the T.V., covered them up as they lay on Shea's bed, and shut off the light. He and Sally were out the front door thirty seconds later, leaving Heero and I alone to deal with whatever came next.

I remember how quiet the inside of the house was. It was an unnatural silence that weighed heavily on my broken heart. It was finally sinking in that Shea was really gone, that she would never walk through the front door again. I'd never hear her call out when she entered the front door, telling us she was home. The grief at that moment was so overpowering that I though my heart just might shatter. Bending in half, trying to deal with the pain, I grabbed my hair with both hands and collapsed onto my knees, which left me curled up with my face to the floor. I was aware of the twins upstairs and didn't want to wake them, so I was left with railing silently at the unfairness of it all.

I didn't want to face the fact that Shea, Quinton and Shen's deaths were real. How was it possible to go on now that Heero and I had lost our sunshine, Wufei and Sally their pride and joy, Quatre and Trowa a beloved son, and the twins their adored older brother? It was just too much to bear losing three member of our family at the same time.

I've known a lot of bad times, have lost more than my share of people I'd cared about, but that night ranks as the worst one in my life. Never before had I felt so devastated. Heero eventually coaxed me up from the floor and dragged the both of us to bed where we fell into an exhausted sleep.

Trowa showed up at seven in the morning and looked ready to collapse. He reported that Quatre was under observation, but that it looked like he was going to be alright. Then, with Heero following behind him for support, he wearily climbed the stairs and headed to our daughter's room to wake the twins and deliver the terrible news. Several minutes later the heartbreaking and haunting cries of the twins were heard and I had to run out the back door to escape the sound.

Thankfully, Relena showed up on our doorstep later that day. She nearly broke down the door before Heero finally answered it. She stepped over the threshold carrying a casserole that had been left on the porch by a sympathetic neighbor, and temporarily took over. Honestly, she was a Godsend. She took care of us as much as we could tolerate. Heero and I were both relieved and grateful when she offered to handle the funeral arrangements. Our grief for Shea was more than either of us had ever experienced. We found it difficult to do even the simplest task. Relena realized this fairly quickly and then set out to give us directions, helped us make the needed decisions, and basically led us both by the hand when it came to doing what had to be done. For the first time in our lives Heero and I found ourselves completely and utterly useless. We couldn't even see past our grief to wonder how our friends were doing, how they were dealing with the loss of their children. We learned, later on, that she had visited our friends and had done the same for them, had been there they needed her the most.

Hours before the funeral, Relena came to us with a square silver box in her hands. Her face was grave and worried looking. "I have something for you, though I'm not sure how you're going to receive this." She placed the box in Heero's hands a stood back. He looked at me, then slowly lifted the cover. A rope of black, braided hair was coiled in the bottom of the box, each end tied off with lavender ribbons. "I took the liberty of asking the funeral director to trim her hair so that you could keep her braid. He cut a bit more than I had in mind, but it's beautiful and I'm sure she'd want you to have it to remember her by."

I had reached out to touch the hair, a part of our daughter. She'd had long hair since the age of five. I taught her how to braid it on her own when she was seven. But as her hair grew longer, she often came to me to braid it for her. She told me I was faster at it than she was, but I always thought she just liked the feel of someone brushing her hair, like I did. Though Heero has always had short, unruly thatch of hair, but he became an expert at brushing and braiding very long hair. It had become a family bonding exercise each evening and morning.

Heero whispered our thanks to Relena for her thoughtfulness, then he carried the box up to our bedroom and stashed it away on the closet shelf. Out of sight, out of mind I think was his reasoning.

Naturally, Christmas that year was dark and grim, matching our hearts. Neither Heero nor I cared anything for the holiday season or much else. Every morning was a struggle to get up and out of bed. Even breathing felt like it took too much effort. Our kind-hearted neighbors left meals on our doorstep even when we failed to answer the doorbell. Neither of us had any appetite for food or the energy to talk about what had happened.

On a cold December afternoon, one week following the burial of our three children in the Sanq Royal cemetery, Trowa and Quatre returned to L4 with the twins. Trowa informed us they would not be returning planet-side in the foreseeable future. Their parting was emotional and strained. Quatre looked terrible, and Trowa was thinner than I'd ever seen him. I'm pretty sure Heero and I looked the same. It was clear our family needed time and space to pull ourselves together, to try and heal from this tragedy and find a way to go on with our lives.

Heero, Wufei and Sally returned to work the following day, claiming they needed something to occupy their hands and minds. In retrospect, I should have done the same. Regretfully, I didn't. Nope, instead, I took an extended leave of absence and found myself alone for too many hours with too many memories haunting me waking hours.

Unfortunately, I found some measure of relief from the pain with a big bottle of alcohol. Liquor seemed to be the only thing I could find to dull the sharp edges of my grief and eventually let me sleep. But then every morning I paid the price by waking up with a hellish hangover and remembered that Shea was gone, and of the big hole in my heart. Each and every morning I was slammed with my grief for her and the other two children.

I suppose it didn't help that everything around me had been a reminder of our daughter. Her room had been left as it had been that fateful day. Her beloved dog became my constant companion. Even Heero's presence, his face deeply lined with sorrow, his eyes dull, had been a constant reminder of our loss. His pain seemed to fuel my own anguish, and so I began avoiding him as much as possible.

You'd think avoiding him would be difficult to do, living in the same house and sharing a bed. But I succeeded to some degree in doing just that by making sure I was quietly and pathetically in a drunken stupor when Heero came home from work each night. I'd usually hide away in the family room with Barkley and a bottle of scotch, the T.V. blaring some program I wasn't even watching. Heero would check in on me when he got home and take a few minutes to lecture me about over consumption of alcohol. Then he'd leave me to wallow in my drunken state for the rest of the evening. I didn't budge from that room until I was sure he'd gone to bed. Then I'd either sleep on the sofa or crawl into our bed without so much as a goodnight said between us.

Then one morning I woke up to Heero roughly shaking my shoulder. My head had been killing me and my stomach was sour and churning.

"What the hell have you done?" he demanded.

I had no idea what the hell he was talking about. I tried to look up at him, but my eyes just didn't want to focus. Then I felt his hand running over the top of my head, and it felt... different. Wrong.

"Oh, Duo," Heero had whispered, and suddenly I knew what was wrong.

I stumbled out of bed and somehow made it to the bathroom and looked into the mirror over the sink. I felt shock and revulsion at my reflection. My hair was gone! Oh, there was about an inch of growth left, but an inch was almost like being bald. I'd never seen myself with short hair, and I wasn't sure I liked what I saw. I remember being horrified that my ears were actually sticking out.

"What the hell?" I'd shouted, running a hand across my shorn head. "Who did this to me?"

Heero had disappeared from the doorway, but came back minute later and grabbed my arm. "I've got something to show you," he'd said.

He led me to the second upstairs bathroom. Shea's bathroom. There, on the floor, was my braid, partially unraveled. On the counter top was the silver box, the lid open, revealing the black braid of hair within. Next to the box was the electric dog grooming razor we used on Barkley. I had felt sick in both stomach and heart. It was clear I had done this to myself, but I couldn't remember actually doing it. I must have really been drunk off my ass to have found the box, clippers and shaved my head and not remembered anything about it. I fell to me knees and threw barely made it to the toilet before I threw up.

Heero put his hand on my back as I heaved, and reassured me my hair would grow back. When I finally finished, my stomach empty, he helped me back to bed then left for work. I guess that was about all he could handle under the circumstances. I lay in bed for an hour or two, my hands running over my head in disbelief. Later, I found a new bottle of something or other to drink and made pretty good friends with it that day.

A week before Christmas Heero finally reached his limit as well as the end of his patience with me and we had it out. He stomped angrily though the house and emptied out every container of alcohol he could find, then confronted me and demanded I get my shit together.

Then he turned and gave me a heated glare. "How can you drink like this when it was a drunk that killed the children? Cutting off your braid was a clear warning that your ability to think things through vanishes when you're drunk. What if you get into your car and drive somewhere while intoxicated? Would you be any different than the bastard who killed our daughter?"

His anger and words hit me hard. He was right; I knew he was. Yet it was the pain and tears in his blue eyes got my full attention, as nothing else had during the previous couple of weeks.

Firmly gripping my shoulders, Heero whispered in a desperate and ragged voice, "I need you, Duo. Don't leave me to deal with this alone. I loved Shea just as much as you did. I miss her and hurt just as much as you do. I'm broken without her, and without you, I'm shattered."

How could I have forgotten Heero was as messed up about Shea as I was? I looked at him, really looked, and realized the man I loved was barely holding on. Grief and pain had been deeply etched on his face. I walked up to him, put my arms around him and held on tightly. Over and over I apologized and we both broke down and again wept for our daughter, for the pain in our hearts and the uncertainty we felt over how to go on without her.

The next day I forced myself to get up with Heero, got dressed, drank a gallon of black coffee and returned to work. I talked to as few co-workers as possible, avoided their eyes, which were filled with pity and sorrow. Their well-intentioned comments and shocked reactions to my short haircut were unwelcome. Several times during the day I had to close the door to my office and, as quietly as possible, let some of the sorrow seep out. I eventually got a grip on myself, wiped the tears from my face and resumed working.

On the evening of December 23rd, Heero drove us home after a long and difficult day at work. I vaguely remember the radio playing some classical music I didn't know or care about. He slowed the car as we approached the house and then abruptly stopped before turning into the driveway. When the car didn't move, I looked up to see Heero staring at the front of the house. Curious, I followed his line of sight and felt my heart clenched.

Through the front window I saw a Christmas tree with little white lights winking on and off. Hilde was standing next to it, reaching up to place an ornament on one of the higher branches.

Heero's grip on the steering wheel slowly loosened, and with his right hand he reached up to the visor to press the remote that activated the garage door opener. He then slowly drove into the garage and stopped the car. We sat there for a moment before he turned off the ignition, the silence in the car was broken only by our ragged breathing.

All day I had struggled to keep my emotions in check, but seeing the tree up and decorated triggered memories of happier times and my control cracked. Despite my best effort to hold it in, a strangled sob escaped me. In my mind I could see Shea's smiling face and her happiness while decorating the front yard with Heero. It hurt in so many ways, knowing our daughter would not be there for Christmas, not that year, not ever again.

I remember Heero reaching over and clasping my hand. He and gave it a squeeze, understanding my tears and attempting to lend me some of his strength.

"She means well," he'd whispered in a quiet, unsteady voice, which indicated he had also been struggling with the memories from Christmas the year before. "Let's go inside."

I had known that Hilde was also grieving. She's been in town since the funeral, but had been staying with friends in order to give us privacy while we grieved for Shea. Even though Hilde hadn't been a part of our daily lives, she was still Shea's mother. She'd always been welcomed in our home as our friend and birth mother of our child. Shea had called her Auntie. My friend had meant well, but for the life of me I couldn't comprehend why she bothered putting up the tree. Heero and I had already discussed skipping Christmas that year.

After a bit, we reluctantly got out of the car and walked out of the garage. As the large door rolled down behind us, the noise from it seemed so loud, like it was the only sound on the block. We made our way up the sidewalk, side by side, hands stuffed into the pockets of our jackets.

Hilde saw us coming from the window and quickly moved to open the front door to let us in. She greeted us with a strained smile and red-rimmed eyes. Her smile faded altogether when she got a look at our faces.

"I wanted to do something to make Christmas a bit more bearable," she'd rushed to explain. Then more timidly she'd asked, "You don't mind, do you, that I put up the tree?"

Neither of us answered. Hilde stepped aside to let inside. Once in, Heero closed the door behind us. He and Hilde exchanged a few words, but I didn't hear them. I had been staring at the ten-foot tree, taking in every detail. It was decorated with all the ornaments we'd accumulated every year since purchasing the house. Many of the ornaments had been chosen with care, one for each year, reflecting events in Shea's life.

Her first three Christmases were represented by a rocking horse, teddy bear, and angel ornaments. There was also a poodle ornament for the year she got Barkley for her birthday and a choral singer for the year she sang a solo part in the school's holiday concert. Seeing her ornaments on the tree was a painful reminder of the precious child we'd tragically lost.

My back suddenly hit the wall and my knees crumbled beneath me. I slid down to the floor and buried my face against my knees. The once cherished ornaments and decorations had become painful reminders that our lives would never be the same again.

I remember Heero sitting down next to me. He wrapped his arms around me and over and over whispered, with his lips against my ear, that everything was going to be okay. One day things would be better. I didn't know how that could ever happen, how could we possibly move past this dark, sad place.

Then Hilde was on my other side. She didn't say anything, but held on tightly to us.

I'm not sure how long we sat there, I only remember the three of us huddled together, grieving for our daughter. Once the tears had dried, I had felt emotionally drained and exhausted. I wondered at the time if I would always feel that way.

Somehow, and probably only because of Hilde and Relena's help, Heero and I survived that first Christmas without Shea. One day numbingly followed another and before I knew it we'd made it through several weeks, then months. It did get easier, but not for a long time.

I think it was about six months before the fog of grief and despair that had enveloped me after Shea's death began to dissipate. During that time, I found it too painful to keep tabs on how Quatre and Trowa were handling Quinton's death. I guess dealing with my own and Heero's grief was difficult enough, that taking on any one elses sorrow was just to much to handle.

Of course, it was easy to keep in touch with Wufei and Sally, working in the same building. Yet even when we got together for lunch or an occasional dinner, we avoided speaking about our children. The subject was still raw and painful. When friends, neighbors or co-workers asked how we were doing, all of us seemed have a similar answer; "We're doing the best we can."

The following September Heero and I decided to sell our home. It had been a difficult decision to make, with so many memories of our daughter centered within its walls. We had raised Shea there, delighted in her laughter and music, which had filled our home. Yet it was those very memories that kept the pain alive and stalled our healing and ability to move forward.

The house was put on the market in October and sold within weeks. The closing date was December fifteenth; we had until the twenty second to move out. Finding a new home, selling and giving away the contents of Shea's room, as well as packing, took up most of our spare time and energy. It also left little time for pondering what it was going to feel like leaving the only home we'd ever known. With everything that had been going on, there had been little time to even think about the holidays. The traditional Thanksgiving feast had been canceled, due to the move. I secretly thought everyone was more than a little relieved about not getting together, since it was close to the one year anniversary of the death of our children.

Heero and I found a home on the other side of town, as far away as possible from everything familiar. We hoped to pick up the pieces of our lives and try to be happy again in a new place. At the time, we both wondered if that was even possible.

We were out of the house on time, but the new home wouldn't close until a week after New Year's Eve, so Heero and I accepted Relena's invitation to stay with her and her family at the Royal residence for the holidays.

At the age of twenty five, she had married Arthur Pendergast, a wealthy older man who was a philanthropist of some renown as well as Relena's stalwart supporter. Three children followed in quick succession, yet even those rug rats didn't seem to slow the former Queen of the World down.

I have to give the lady credit, she was a very understanding and undemanding hostess that year. We shared a simple but delicious dinner with her family on Christmas Eve. To my relief there had been no carols sung or presents exchanged - Heero and I hadn't shopped for anyone for the second year in a row. After dessert the powerhouse couple and their children wished Heero and I a merry Christmas as we retired to our room for the night. Relena told us beforehand they wee going to attend midnight Mass before returning home to open their gifts before bed. I was relieved we didn't upset their holiday by being there.

We slept in that Christmas morning, which was somewhat unusual for us. I suppose, like myself, Heero didn't want to face the memories of past, happier Christmas mornings.

I do remember it being cold outside, typical for this part of the world. When we finally stirred and opened our eyes, we were greeted by the sight of snow falling outside our window. We lay there for a while, warm under the down comforter, speaking quietly as we contemplated the past and future. Then we made love, trying to forget our grief, if only for a short time, and establishing once more that we still had each other and would have a fresh start in our new home.

There is no doubt in my mind that without Heero by my side, I never would have made it through that most difficult year of my life.

The approaching New Year's Ball brought everyone back together for the first time since the funeral. It had been quite a shock to see Quatre, looking older and thinner than when we'd last seen him. Trowa's shoulders drooped where they never had before and there were new worried lines between his eyes. It was clear our two friends continued to struggle with Quinton's death. I embraced them both, as did the others, and apologized for the lack of communication during the past year. As the next few days passed, our friendship was renewed and strengthened by our love for each other as well the shared understanding of our grief. I came to realize that while drowning in my own grief and sorrow, I had neglected my family, had somehow forgotten they were also suffering. I felt ashamed for not staying in touch with them as I should have. I just hadn't been ready or strong enough to handle anyone else's grief... at least, not until I saw just how much Quatre and Trowa were still suffering. I decided then and there to do whatever I could to help them. A burden shared is a burdened lessened, right?

During those few days together, I felt a distinct change in myself, and saw it in Heero also. The mantle of grief that had nearly consumed us had finally begun to lift. I began to feel an inkling of hope for the future.

Everyone attended Relena's Peace Ball on New Year's Eve, even the twins were in attendance, dressed in formal attire and on their best behavior. As usual, Relena had hosted another successful, wonderful event. We danced, socilaized and for a short while we were able to put the past sorrow aside and hope for a better year. Before we knew it, midnight had arrived and the level of celebrating escalated. Once the impressive fireworks show concluded, the other guests began drifting towards the front palace doors.

While they made their way home, our family gathered together in a corner of the ballroom to privately wish each other a happier New Year.

After a round of toasting, each one of us saying a few words, it came around to Wufei's turn. He cleared his throat, and we all turned our eyes to him expectantly to hear what he had to say.

"I have an announcement," he'd said. His eyes searched out each of ours before his gaze settled on Sally. Their eyes locked and suddenly their faces softened. Even from five feet away I could see a shared welling of emotion between them.

Wufei straightened his shoulders with resolve and turned to continue. "We're expecting another child in April. A boy. His name will be Shon-Li Chang."

A long, drawn-out moment of silence followed as our brains tried to absorb this news. Sally was older, not usually the age of a childbearing woman. But she was fit and trim and there was so much happiness radiating from her that I knew I couldn't utter a word of concern for her condition. She looked at each of us and searched our faces for our reactions to Wufei's announcement. When the group remained silent, her expectant expression turned to a concerned frown.

Heero, our ever fearless leader, was the first to step forward. He stood in front of Wufei, and held out his hand. Wufei grinned and shook hands while Heero congratulated him. My lover then turned to Sally and embraced her, whispering soft and sincere words of congratulations and future happiness.

Sally started crying, and then all of us joined in. We spent a good five minutes crying and then laughing together. We then made a final toast to the Sally and the baby's health and for everyone's happiness in the coming year.

We went to bed as the sun came up that first morning of the New Year. Heero's arms were wrapped around me while my head rested on his chest. The steady beat of his heart was like a lullaby to me as I settled down for a good morning's sleep. I was just beginning to doze when he said something, so softly I almost didn't catch his words. It took a moment for me to realize what he'd said and the enormity of it sunk in.

"I want another child."

Those four simple words, whether he meant for me to hear them or not, led to a very difficult time for us. Heero was serious about having another baby, not to replace Shea, he assured me, because nothing and no one ever would. He wanted the void that had been left in our lives filled again, with the love and laughter we had come to associate with being a family. He'd argued that we had so much to give a child; a loving home and our hearts. He insisted we were smarter now, experienced parents who wouldn't make some of the mistakes we'd made before.

I heard him out, knowing he had a right to state his wishes, but then it was my turn. It's not that I didn't love having Shea, but her loss had destroyed me in so many ways. I never wanted to feel that way again. Oh, I knew one day Heero might die before me, but I had always put that off as something to deal with in the future, the very far, unthinkable future.

Even though I'd had my share of having loved and lost before, nothing had prepared me for what it was like to lose a child. I honestly didn't think I could survive that kind of pain again. I just couldn't risk that kind of heartbreak.

Heero remained adamant about having another child, and I was equally resistant. We somehow managed to kept our struggle with this issue between the two of us. Wufei and Sally had been so excited about their baby, I didn't have the heart to bring our troubles into their lives. The memory of Quatre and Trowa, how they were obviously still struggling with the loss of their son, kept me from talking about our troubles to them. And so I had only Hilde to talk to.

During many phone conversations, she patiently listened to me, to my side of the story and my complaints about Heero stubbornly insisting we have another child. I became more than a little frustrated when Hilde didn't back me up, but took Heero's side.

"You aren't listening to him," she informed me. "Heero is telling you what he wants, what he needs, and you're stubbornly refusing to acknowledge those needs. Honestly, Duo, I'm not a family counselor, and I'm not saying you should have another child, but you two need to talk to someone and work this out. If you don't, I'm afraid you're going to lose him. He's still young enough, not to mention ridiculously good looking, that if he set out to find someone more willing to parent a child with him, he'd have little trouble doing so. Is losing Heero what you really want, Duo? I suppose if you did lose him, you'd never have to deal with these irritating relationship hiccups."

Losing Heero was the last thing in the world I wanted. I needed him like I needed air, or food. But my heart and feelings had to count for something, didn't they?

Things remained tense between the two of us until Valentine's day. I pondered the problem, brooded and, looking back, I was probably miserable to live with. When I asked Heero if he wanted to go out to dinner on Valentine's Day, he shrugged one shoulder and said, "Why bother." His defeated reply was like a sucker-punch to my gut and left me wondering if I was losing him. Hilde's warning came back to me, and my fear of losing Heero became motivation for fixing things between us. I did a lot of fast thinking and planning and made some phone calls, setting things up. The day before Valentine's Day I left a card on his desk at work, asking him out on a date.

With Relena's help, I was able to arrange a dinner reservation at a very exclusive restaurant. Heero liked gourmet food a lot more than I did, so this up-scale place, which would cost me a good chunk of my paycheck, was more to his preferences than mine. That was okay with me because I wanted him to be happy and in the mood to listen. There was a lot riding on the line that night and it was imperative we both be relaxed and open.

A standing requirement at that particular restaurant was for men to wear a coat and tie, which normally would have killed the deal for me. But no one looks better in a suit that Heero Yuy. So I swallowed down my discomfort about fancy clothes and food to insure a good evening. We brought the appropriate clothing to office with us the next day, intending to change after work for our date.

I was excited and nervous as hell as we left the office dressed in our designer suits. Heero kept glancing at me, a puzzled frown on his face more often than a smile, which wasn't a promising start. Our reservation was for six p.m., a bit early for dinner, but it was alright with me. I'd decided the early hour would give us the rest of the evening to go to a movie or do something else. After being escorted to our table, we ordered our meal and wine, and then had approximately twenty minutes to fill until our dinner arrived.

This was my planned window of opportunity.

I began by telling Heero how much I loved him, that he was everything to me. Then I put everything out on the proverbial table, basically tell him my feelings about our on-going argument. I also confessed to being afraid of losing him if I didn't give into his desire to have another child. Again, I listed everyone of my reasons for my not wanting another one, but even to my ears my reasoning sounded selfish.

I have to give Heero credit, for he sat quietly and listened to everything I had to say. When it was clear I had finished, he told me he understood my concerns. After which, he said he didn't think I understood how important having another baby was to him. The look in his eyes told me he wasn't going to back down, not when this was something he so desperately wanted.

We had reached an impasse.

Nothing was solved that night, in fact, I was sure I'd made things worse because we had both drawn proverbial lines in the sand, which seemed to pull us even further apart. I honestly felt I was justified and held on to that idea.

But I was miserable.

I was losing him.

We stayed together, maybe out of habit or because leaving was left as a last resort, or maybe we just hadn't gotten to that point yet. Whatever the reason for why we stayed together, it was pretty damn clear our relationship had changed. It was polite but strained, as was our sex life.

Sally delivered a healthy baby boy on the seventeenth of April.

When he finally showed up in the waiting room to announce that all had gone well, I was pleased to see Wufei's worried expression had at last softened and he wore a very pleased smile.

It was another two hours of waiting before we were let into the room to see her. We entered behind Wufei to see Sally resting in the bed, looking radiant, with the baby in her arms. It warmed my heart to see the two of them truly happy again.

Heero stood beside me as we praised the baby as looking wise and the most handsome little guy we'd ever seen. Trowa and Quatre showed up about then, and being all together gave me the feeling that all was right in the world again, if even for a short while. Quatre rushed through their apology for being late, but then he held out his arms and asked to hold his new nephew.

Wufei gently took the baby from Sally and placed the swaddled boy into Quatre's arms. Quat gently rocked Shon-Li and began humming some kind of lullaby. When he finished, he looked up, his blue eyes had glistened with emotion.

He turned and smiled at Heero, "Your turn?"

Heero accepted the little bundle, and like Quatre he held the baby like a pro. He didn't sing or hum like our friend had, but intensely studied every inch of the baby's face. Everyone in the room remained still, allowing Heero to enjoy this tender moment. Then my estranged husband looked up at me, and in those beautiful blue eyes I could see need, want and desire burning in them. This time those feeling weren't for me. They were his heartbreaking need for another child.

Heero then passed Shon-Li to me.

I reluctantly accepted the little boy and gazed down at his angelic face. There's just something about a baby that is so pure and wondrous. Of course, it helped that Wufei's son was content and not making a fuss or crying. Even then, I would have found the little guy amazing. And all of a sudden, I felt my heart trip as love for the baby began to swell inside me.

While focused on the bundle of perfection in my arms, I suddenly heard myself ask, "How did you ever make the decision to take this chance again, after losing Shen?"

The room went absolutely silent. It was as if everyone was holding their breath and my heart was beating so loud I was sure the others could hear it. I felt Heero's hand grip my shoulder. I didn't know if he was warning me I'd stepped out of line, of if he was simply lending me his support.

It was Sally who answered my question. "How could we not, Duo? You know Shen was everything to us, our heart and joy. He represented the best qualities of Wufei and myself. We desperately miss him as much as you miss Shea and Quatre and Trowa miss Quinton. Yet in our hearts we knew it was our love for each other that built the foundation of our family. Shen added to what we'd already started, and he helped make us better people, wiser parents. In having another child, even with the risks associated with my age, we honor our son and the lessons he taught us as we strive to raise another fine and wonderful human being. No doubt, Shon-Li will have something of his own to teach us, and there's always the hope we will become even wiser in the process of raising him. Regardless of any obstacles, he will be loved, and my love for Wufei has become all the more sweeter from this experience, for his willingness to follow me down this path."

If Sally was going to say anything else, she was waylaid when Wufei bent over and tenderly kissed her lips, his hand stroking her hair. I glanced over at Trowa and Quatre to see their arms wrapped around each other, both smiling at the new parents. They suddenly looked

younger and more alive, much better than they had just a few days earlier. The world, it seemed, was slowly tilting back to where it belonged. Well... almost.

Shon-li is now almost nine months old. Believe me, those nine months have had its ups and downs, which, for some odd reason, reminds me of the time. I glance at the clock on the dashboard to see it's almost seven. Damn, I didn't mean to stay so long. I'm going to be in a shit-load of trouble when I get home. I turn my phone back on to see there are three messages from Heero.

I put the car into drive while calling him back.

"Sorry I'm late. I'm on my way home now. Yeah, I know dinner's at seven. I promise I'll be there in ten minutes."

Heero asks where I've been, because he knows I haven't been at the office. He he'd called there a hour ago and the receptionist confirmed I'd clocked out. She suggested I might be doing some last minute Christmas shopping. I could take the easy way out and tell him that's exactly what I was doing, or I could just tell him the truth.

"I'm at our old house. I just... needed to remember our time here. In my mind I can still see you and Shea decorating our yard that last Christmas." I choke up, unable to keep a handle on all the feeling those precious memories stirred up.

There was a long pause on the other side of the phone. "I understand," Heero replies softly. "I was there last week, doing the same thing. Come home now. We'll make some new memories this year."

"I'll be there before you know it," I tell him.

"Try not to get another speeding ticket." He's so damn droll.

"Yes, sir," I laugh and end the call.

I immediately put the car into drive, release the parking brake, and begin the journey home.

The traffic has cleared considerably. Not only is rush hour over, but it looks like almost everyone else in Sanq but me has the sense to stay indoors when a major snow storm is about to hit.

Right on queue, the snow starts falling.

It actually took me eleven minutes to pull into the garage. I shut it behind me and walked through the side door into the warm and decorated livingroom.

Barkley greets me at the door, barking his fool head off while his tail is rapidly wagging. He's obviously happy to see me. I pick him up and rub behind his ears. He wiggles almost immediately, so I set him down and he quickly scampers towards the kitchen.

I turn to look at the Christmas tree, standing in all its decorated glory, with all the ornaments of Christmases past on the limbs. This year, pulling them out of their storage boxes was a bit less painful than I'd anticipated. We spent a lot of time commenting on each of Shea's ornaments and remembering all the good times we shared with her. There were a few tears, but also smiles that came from those cherished memories.

Pulling off my jacket and gloves, then pop the beanie off him head, releasing a mass of curls. Yeah, go figure. I didn't know I had curly hair either. I guess the length and thickness his that trait for most of my life. Shaking my head, I loosen the kinks and my hair falls into a natural, but artful mess of curls around my head.

I sense Heero standing behind me only a slight moment before I hear him chuckle. It kind of funny, really. We both loved my long hair, and it took a while for us to get used to it being short. But once it grew out a couple of inches and began curling, Heero hasn't been able to keep his hands off it. I've grown to like it, too, but mostly because I enjoy anytime my husband put his hands on me.

I turn to see Heero smiling at me and cradled in his hands is a cup of hot tea.

"Something to warm you up," he says, holding it out to me.

I take it from him and sip the warm liquid. "Um.. Thanks. This is great.

He reaches out to run his hands, fingers spread, over my head and through the curls. With his hand resting at the back of my head, he tugs me forward and kisses me, rocking my world with very little effort.

I hear voices in the kitchen and break the kiss to ask, "Who's cooking, you or Hilde?"

Hilde's awful in the kitchen. We'd learned a long time ago how to work around her offers to help with the meals.

"Petra insisted on cooking tonight, so Hilde and I are doing our best to help her," Heero answers with a worried look on his face.

"And they haven't burned the house down yet? Looks like we've got our Christmas miracle after all."

Heero smiles at me. I love his smile, and I have done plenty of stupid things just trying to get him to laugh. Go figure, I usually manage to pull it off, because for some odd reason the man thinks I'm funny. Hilde opinion is that I'm corny; and Petra, her younger sister, says I'm weird, but in a good way.

My husband leans over and kisses me again, briefly and carefully because of the cup of tea, but it's enough to get my blood stirring. He pulls back and says quietly, "Want to tell me about your side-trip?" I can see by the look in his eyes that he doesn't want to pry if I'm not ready to talk about going to the house, but I know he really does want me to talk about it.

"Later, when we go to bed. I promise."

That seems to satisfy him as he smiles again, just a little one this time. "Then I suggest we join the ladies in the kitchen. I think I smell something about to burn."

We hightail it to the other room. I'm still a bit surprised we bought a home with such a large kitchen. Heero, man of many plans, announced his intention to cook more often, if we decided this was the home for us. Sounded like a good plan to me as Heero's a much better cook than I am.

Entering the kitchen, we find Hilde and Petra bent over the oven, the door is wide open and all that lovely warm heat is escaping while they debate whether or not the chicken is actually done cooking. Barkley sits behind them, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, no doubt in anticipation of getting some human food.

"It's done," Heero announces. "It's been in there for well over an hour. It's probably petrified by now."

Both women straighten and begin arguing with him. I listen for a moment, enjoying the sound of family in our home, even if they are arguing.

Petra leans back, puts her hands behind her and pushes her fists against her lower spine. I pull out a kitchen chair and motion for her to sit down.

"Thanks, Duo," she replies, then waddles the five feet to the chair, turns and eases down onto it. Once sitting, she rubs both hands over her swollen belly. "They sure are busy tonight," she says with a sigh. "I can't imagine how I'm going to deal with this for the next two months. I mean, I'm huge already. I don't know if I can get any bigger.

"Have some faith in your doctor, Petra. She'll take good care of you." I put as much confidence in my voice as I can muster.

The good doctor doubted our surrogate would carry the twins for the full nine months. True, some women do, but Petra is on the small side, small and slim. The doctor assured us she'd deliver the twins early if either the mother or children were in any distress or danger.

I look down at the woman who has agreed to be a surrogate for us after Hilde declared she was too old to go down that road again. It was her idea to ask her younger sister if she'd be interested. Heero and I signed an agreement with her, stating our intention to pay for all the doctor and hospital costs, and then compensate her with 20,000 credits for the egg and loan of her body.

She got pregnant after the first insemination, and what a surprise it was, finding out she was carrying twins! As prearranged, she came from L2 a week ago and will be staying with us until her delivery date, late February.

As far as Heero and I are concerned, Petra can be as much a part of the twins lives as she's comfortable with. Hilde, who is definitely planning on remaining a part of the family, is excited about being an "Auntie" again.

We're having a boy and a girl. When the doctor announced we were expecting twins, Heero's smile was so large I swear it could have split his face in half. You'd think he'd won the largest lottery in history. I was a bit more reserved, fearful for Petra as she's a little bit of a woman, like Hilde.

We've made a lot of calls to L4, getting advice from the only two people we know who has twins. Quatre and Trowa have been enormously supportive and plan to be planet side when the babies are delivered. The entire gundam family is eagerly anticipating the big event.

Dinner is served five minutes later. I didn't even have to tell a half-lie about it being good, because it was better than anything I've ever produced. After doing the dishes, we each carry a bowl of ice cream into the living room with us, watch a bit of television and visit until it it's time for bed.

Hilde, who accompanied Petra on the flight down, will be staying with her sister in the guest room until after New Years, then she'll return to L2. She's saving up her vacation hours to return in time to help with the delivery and support her sister as she relinquishes the babies to us.

Later, in bed, I roll into Heero's embrace and tell him about my trip to the old house, of all the memories of Shea that had come back. He's a great listener.

"I wish she was here," I tell him. There's always feel a bit of pain in my heart whenever I think or talk about Shea, but somehow it's more bearable and doesn't take as long to get over as it did in the past.

Heero sighs. "Me too, but in a way she is here. She's in our hearts and memories and always will be."

"Do you think we'll be able to love the twins like we loved her?" It's something I've been worrying about.

"There are many kinds of love. The way I love you is very different from how I loved her or even our friends."

"I hope so," I chuckle before nuzzling his neck.

"And I have no doubt we'll love the twins as much as we did Shea, though it won't be exactly the same."

"It hard to imagine, though, isn't it? Loving anyone as much as we loved her."

"Not so hard. I love you more than anything in the world."

I pull back just enough to look into Heero's eyes and I can see his love for me shining in them. "You're everything to me, babe. Everything."

And then I prove it.

Later, after he's fallen asleep, spooned up behind me, I think about the day's events. Then I close my eyes and say a little prayer for our daughter, for the twins and Petra. My heart is telling me this Christmas is going to be so much better than the last two, which were filled with pain and uncertainty. Beginning this Christmas, Heero and I have hope for the future and anticipation for our family to come. True, Christmas will never be the same without our precious Shea, but Heero has assured me, time and again, that our future will once again be filled with love, laughter, and joy. And I believe him.

The End and Merry Christmas!