A/N: Well... I've been called some things in your reviews haven't I? Very entertaining, slightly menacing... I think there may have even been a death threat (gosh). Luckily I'm still alive and can therefore bring you this, the penultimate chapter.

-Remember when we felt the sun A love like paradise, how hot it burned A threat of distant thunder, the sky was red And when you walked, you always turned every head-
-Pet Shop Boys-
-(Domino Dancing)-

It was an interesting day. Stan doubted whether having Kyle, Kenny and Cartman in the same room as Gregory was a good idea, but he'd been reassured that if he could change his opinion and get along with the blond then anyone could. And he had after all made quite a remarkable turnaround. Perhaps his increasing optimism had also been due to how incredibly well his parents had taken this news. Both bowled over by the charm Gregory could radiate when needed, they welcomed him with smiles. Towards the end of the night it was almost as if they were pining for Gregory's acceptance, rather than the other way round. It was a complete success.

Gregory was doing very well in managing to interact politely with Stan's friends. In fact, it could even be seen that he was enjoying himself, that Gregory may even be making friends with them. Cartman wasn't so happy, slouching in one of Stan's living room chairs with a bag of cheesy poofs and muttering something about hippy fags. The very notion of being called a hippy made Gregory laugh, it was about as far from the truth as he was from being straight. Hippies... didn't kill people.

Kenny was reclined on the floor at Cartman's feet, facing Gregory, Stan and Kyle on the sofa. He was enjoying throwing questions at them, completely at ease in learning the truth about Stan and rather impressed at who he was with. He and Gregory had shared a laugh at the expense of how nervous Stan looked. Even Kyle, who for a while had been in a state of shock, was growing more used to the idea. He hadn't posed any questions himself but had listened closely to the answers of Kenny's; things about exactly when and why it started. In answering, Gregory and Stan had been extremely truthful for there was nothing they needed to hide.

"What does Wendy think about this?" posed Kenny. They had gone completely public; their news had even overtaken the mysterious disappearance of Christophe.

Stan grinned. "The look on her face was priceless, dude. She fell over herself when she saw us kiss by the lockers." Stan had not been able to resist the moment when he saw Wendy walking down the corridor. He waited until he made eye contact with her and then grabbed Gregory. Her absolute astonishment and scepticism was very visible; most people were sceptic at first. Though Gregory had scalded Stan later about how cruel he'd been, they had both smirked through that kiss. "We timed it perfectly."

Kenny grinned. "Man, I wish I'd seen that."

Gregory raised his eyebrow. "Us kiss or Wendy's face?"

Kenny continued to grin. "Both." He was kicked in the back by Cartman, probably for getting perverted, but this just spurred him on. He dropped his grin, putting on a straight face like the next question was very serious. "So, Gregory, what's Stan like in bed? Wendy would never tell me."

Stan blushed and mumbled for Kenny to shut up but Gregory laughed. "He's the best I've ever had."

"Really?" asked Kenny in high-pitched shock. Gregory smiled and nodded sincerely. "Damn, Stan, that's impressive." Kenny winked at Gregory. "But that's just because you haven't tasted the McCormick magic."

Stan narrowed his eyes. "And he isn't going to, ever." He didn't really have anything to worry about. Gregory was completely faithful and Kenny was completely straight.

Kenny nodded but winked at the amused looking Gregory. "I'll be over at yours later tonight. Prepare for ecstasy."

A light smile came to Kyle's face. "Stan, I think Kenny's planning on raping Gregory."

Stan just raised his eyebrows and laughed. "Ha, good luck with that, Ken." He wrapped his arm around Gregory. "If you want to take this one on then I'm happy to watch you get your ass kicked."

"I'd rather have my ass fuc-"

"Kenny, enough. Do not finish that sentence," warned Stan.

Kenny reluctantly stopped himself. "Gregory, I still don't understand how Stan here managed to score you, I say this in the straightest way possible... you are gorgeous, like, really fucking gorgeous."

Gregory shot Stan a confused look, one that said, 'is he actually for real?' Stan sighed and nodded. Yes, Kenny really did live his life to talk about sex and attractive people. "Stan's gorgeous," stated Gregory simply.

This proved too much fagginess for Cartman and he finally decided to speak. "So where's that Mormon who used to hang around us? Can't be getting fucked by the British piece of shit, because he's disappeared." The whole atmosphere in the room changed. Stan tensed, automatically squeezing Gregory's hand. The smirk fell from Kenny's face and he fell back slightly against the chair. Kyle looked appalled.

"Shut the hell up, fatass. You can't say that!" yelled Kyle quickly.

"Yeah I can, I don't care. It needs to be said."

"No it-" Kyle stopped mid-sentence as Gregory held up a hand.

Stan looked hastily at Gregory, trying to gauge the boy's reaction. "It's okay, Kyle. It does need to be said." Gregory's words were clear and confident but Stan could see worry behind his eyes. Stan knew the distress Gregory had gone through and how it wasn't getting better. His boyfriend was highly intelligent and after a quick break into Christophe's room, they could see that everything was not alright. Gregory would skim over where Christophe was mentioned, and just focus on the other boy. "We can't ignore the fact Gary isn't here. Stan has tried to talk to Gary but can't get through. I even talked to Gary. He won't be around." Gregory turned his head to Cartman and glared. "I'm British, Christophe is French. For the last time, get your fucking facts straight, you arse."

Stan laughed, one of relieved tension for the chance of a subject change. So Gregory had developed a dislike for Eric Cartman as well, it wasn't really a big surprise. No more needed to be said about Gary, there wasn't really much else to say if they wanted to avoid something very time-consuming and complicated.

As the conversation progressed to other reasons why Cartman was an 'arse,' Gregory's phone rang, cutting into Kyle's particularly long rant. He withdrew it from his pocket and looked at the caller I.D, withheld. He narrowed his eyes at his phone. In his experience 'withheld' meant it was a telemarketer, a client or his father's office. Since he was expecting the last two he was tempted to avoid the call, but he excused himself from the room and answered. If it was a telemarketer then he was going to be very pissed off.

Gregory didn't often put things down to coincidence but it was the only explanation for which person was on the other end of the phone. The phone line had terrible reception and the crackling made the speech almost inaudible, but he could tell the voice anywhere. "Gregory, I need you. I... need your 'elp."

Of all the reactions he could have had, he burst into tears. Only in being alone could he do that. "Oh Tophe, thank God." The emotion overwhelmed him; he fell against the wall, silently dropping to the floor. Not until that point did he realise how desperately he'd been praying that Christophe was alive, and how with each day that passed he felt more certain that he wasn't. It was an overpowering moment to realise that Christophe wasn't dead and that he still had a chance to put everything right: a worry and thought that had consumed him for the past month. He could sense Christophe's urgency that he shouldn't cry and worried that he would be heard by the others, so he tried to contain his tears.

"I will be okay eef you do what I say." His speech sounded forced, like he was reading from a cue... "Leesten very carefully and zees faggots say zey won't keel me." Well perhaps he was editing it a bit. Gregory's composure returned as he listened to what Christophe, or rather Christophe's captors, wanted him to say. As he took his instructions of where to go and the amount of ransom to bring, his mind was formulating another plan, one much different. Those faggots had messed with the wrong people.

When Gregory re-entered the living room he kissed Stan, making his fake apologies for leaving and whispering three very simple words into the Jock's ear.

Entering the warehouse had been easy. Gregory had located two secret entrances which would have served his purpose nicely. Silencing the men waiting for him had been easy too. He noted how Christophe had not been with the men who wanted the money. Did that mean he'd have got him after the transaction was completed or would they both have ended up dead? Criminals had a notorious tendency to break their promises, luckily Gregory never believed them.

The first guard outside where Christophe was being held was easy enough to take down: a punch, a stumble backwards and a handy window to 'fall through.' The glass in his legs, causing an outpour of blood would leave him immobile for long enough. Gregory slammed his elbow into the second guards face with a satisfying crunch. A second jam to the skull with Gregory's foot ensured that he would not be standing up to fight for a little while... if ever again. He may not have been dead, but he would need some serious attention.

Gregory rarely killed people, hurt them, yes. Left them broken? Yes. Left them begging for death? Sometimes... He tortured people and left them crying for mercy but he didn't give them mercy, he just listened to their screams. He often felt strangely weak at the thought. He wasn't like Gary, but he was damaged as well. He was fucked up and often merciless. He had killed people. Sure, he only killed the bad people but what right did he have to take a life?

The right was that he had to save Tophe. Like fuck he was going to give into blackmail.

He took the keys from the unconscious guard's neck, and after straightening his hair and wiping a speck of blood off his chin, unlocked the room where Christophe was being held. He chuckled at the sight; he saw the boy slouched, handcuffed to one of the walls.

"Well, this looks familiar. Though, last time you weren't wearing a top," he said, making his way quickly to Christophe but still doing so with a controlled grace. He touched the tape on the boy's mouth. "You also weren't gagged." He grinned. "Did they get fed up with your dirty mouth?"

Christophe's eyes were wide with shock and wariness by that point. He mumbled something incomprehensible. Gregory ripped off the tape with one fluid motion. Christophe panted, opening his mouth wide to stretch out the stiffness. He looked Gregory dead in the eyes, a silencing moment of hazel and green. "'Ello zere."

"Idiot," Gregory yelled, punching Christophe on the arm. He continued with the set of keys and unlocked the trapped mercenary. Christophe sighed with relief and rubbed his wrists. "You are a fool." Gregory pulled a cigarette packet out of his jacket pocket, along with a lighter, lighting a single stick up and then replacing the rest. He hadn't started smoking again; he handed it to Christophe who took it with a ravenous look on his face and took an almost orgasmic draw on it. "A real fucking fool."

Christophe blew the smoke out slowly, sighing. "You actually came."

"I said I would."

Christophe threw his arms around Gregory in a tight hug. "You are a wonderful person, mon ami."

Gregory cried out in disgust and shoved Christophe away, which only happened when the mercenary finally allowed it. "Don't you dare fucking touch me," snapped Gregory. "I am not your friend and I'm only saving you because it's not worth the hassle of you dying, okay? So don't think that we're all fine because we're not." He narrowed his eyes, glancing around. He was still on the alert. "Why the fuck are you here?"

"I got captured by zose cocksuckers zat I stole ze gold from. Word got around zat eet 'ad been returned to eet's owners. Zey found me and zey were angry. I was not prepared." Christophe went red in anger. It had tortured him more than anything that he hadn't properly planned out his course when he'd returned the gold a short while before. He hadn't accounted for the fact they had spies. There were other links between the two people, which caused him to be spotted. He failed to notice he'd been followed home. That's why when they came for him, he was not prepared to defend himself; he had been asleep. It all showed how much he'd needed Gregory.

"What gold?"

Christophe frowned. He'd forgotten he had never told Gregory. Digging it up that day in the forest, burying it in the first place... it was all linked to Gary. He had never wanted to mix the two. "Zat's what was een ze box." That fucking box was the reason everything had changed. Though, he wouldn't have done it any differently if he had it to do again. By cheating on Gregory and not ending it appropriately, the blond was able to find comfort in Stan, something that would have never happened if not. Would he have spared Gary some torment if they weren't cheating? Or perhaps without feeling that guilt, Gary would have never stayed with him. Christophe had no idea. It sucked. He took a drag on his cigarette. "Ze box in ze forest."

"Oh, that box." Gregory's face remained stony.

"Zey've been trying to get information out of me about 'ow I could break een to zeir ozer base. Zey want to know zeir design faults. After zey saw zat I would not tell zem, zey've been deciding whether eet would be more satisfying to keel me or make some money from me. Ze greedy beetches zat zey are means zey picked money. So eet was a golden opportunity to contact my rescue, non?"

"What if I hadn't come?"

The question was emotionless but it made Christophe smile. "I knew you would."

Gregory's eyes reflected this knowledge and he nodded. He took hold of Christophe's arm and led him to the door. "We don't have time for all of this right now. I have to get you out of here because I am not prepared to pay their ransom for a French bastard like you. We can't risk the guards waking up."

They left the warehouse as easily as leaving any other building. Every blackmailer and guard was either dead or close to it as Christophe had made sure the ones who knew where he lived would never spread the information. Sitting on a secluded bench, not too far out-of-town, Christophe breathed in the fresh air again, mixing it with smoke. "Sheet, I've missed a lot of school. My mozer is going to go crazy." He mumbled some French expletives about her under his breath and violently took a drag on his cigarette.

Gregory pulled a face. "I still don't understand your mother. You go missing for a month and on your return she won't care about anything but your schoolwork. She didn't even put out a missing person alert; you could have been dead for all she knew."

Christophe shrugged. "Eet makes what I do easier." He didn't care about his own schoolwork. An education of that sort wasn't really needed for what he would dedicate his life to.

Gregory raised his eyebrows and scoffed; a messed up home life was probably the reason Christophe did what he did in the first place. He sighed as he looked over Christophe: dirty, blood-stained, bruised, a cold glint on the surface of his eyes, but as he looked deeper, a sad one. What had happened to the both of them? They'd turned into such fucked up people with so little control over their emotions in any normal way. If turned off completely they could execute dangerous missions and kill people. If allowed to take over they would run wild, could lead to such irrational behaviour, clearly shown through Christophe's inability to stay away from Gary and Gregory's almost murderous reaction to the cheating.

Christophe sensed Gregory's gloom. He knew what he wanted to say and took the moment of silence. "I never congratulated you about Marsh." He paused to inhale on his cigarette. On the exhale, he continued. "So, congratulations eef you're 'appy wiz 'im zen eet's..." Christophe couldn't finish his sentence. He wanted to say good, great, fantastic but he couldn't find the right word, maybe there wasn't a right word for him to use.

Gregory seemed to understand why he'd stopped mid-sentence. "I'm happy with Stan."

Christophe nodded. "I 'ope he treats you well."

A smile curled on Gregory's lips. "He does."

"Do you think eet will last?"

"I want it to but it's doubtful. He's well aware of some of the things I do but I don't think he understands the extent. I like to keep this side of me separate and in the end that will never work." Gregory sighed; it hurt him but he felt that he and Stan weren't built to last. The foundation was very unsteady; Stan wasn't a killer, he couldn't stomach it. They were both very soon heading in opposite directions. Gregory was not the type to live a normal life. "Who could love this side of me?"

"I deed."

"And look how that ended, Tophe."

An amused smile appeared on Christophe's lips. "Mmmm, you almost keeled me."

Gregory laughed. So it had happened. Sitting with Christophe proved how hearts could heal given time. Maybe Christophe having been captured had put everything into perspective because they both found they were no longer arguing, no longer playing the ridiculous blame game. Gregory would enjoy the time he did have with Stan and how much love and happiness the Jock brought him. He at least had some time for that. And as for Christophe, yes he'd cheated, but it was over. He couldn't deny the care he saw in Christophe's eyes about Gary.

"What about you and Gary, Tophe?"

Christophe's face twisted to distress. "I think I'm going to end eet with Gary, eet's too much of a mess."

Gregory grew angry, not for his own sake but for everyone's sanities. "I knew you'd do this!" He pointed an accusatory finger at Christophe. "You've messed him around, changed him, changed his life, and now you're running away."

He was sure it looked like Christophe was about to cry. If the French boy had the capacity to cry he would have been certain. Christophe's face gave the illusion of tears even if no water ran. "I want to give 'im 'is life back."

Gregory's tone fell softer; he'd expected an irrational reaction. "You're not going to do that by running away. If you truly love him, then show him. Don't run away. Think about him."

"I am thinking about 'im."

"No you're not, if you were then you'd be thinking about what you can change to make it all better, not to make it all worse."

"What about 'is family? Zey want me gone."

"Gary's family always preach that they think it's great that other people have their own beliefs. They should apply that to Gary too. If Gary doesn't want to follow the Mormon rules then he shouldn't have to."

Christophe was sceptical. "I think he does."

Gregory smirked. He knew a few things of his own. "Are you sure, because I don't think he has for a while."

"What?"

"Since you've been gone he's gone through stages. He was upset for a while, always crying, never talking. He looked so depressed, no one could do anything. Stan tried but it was no good, he thought you'd run away and left him. I didn't want to point out that it was more likely you were dead, since you hadn't taken your shovel. He didn't know that; he hadn't been able to face your room. I didn't like seeing him like that, I talked to him and he asked me to help him do something. He wanted my strength, my power to stand up for what I thought was right. I did help him. God help me, I don't know why, but I did."

"God 'elps no one," Christophe muttered. But his mind had been changed. He had never wanted to leave Gary, he had been longing for another way. He supposed he just wanted to hear it from someone else too. "You are a good person, Gregory." He briefly patted Gregory on the hand. The blond stiffened but allowed it. "What deed you 'elp 'im wiz?"

"I helped him realise what he wanted and what he didn't."

Christophe was scared to ask what that was.

Gregory could sense it. "I think it's better coming from him. You should see him now."

"Thank you, mon ami. I will do eet now."

Gregory rolled his eyes at Christophe's insistence to call them friends. "I am not your friend." He stood up and kicked Christophe on the side of the leg to illustrate his point, noting that he didn't feel an ounce of bitterness doing so. His feet automatically turned towards Stan's house, "And you should probably take a wash first, you stink." He didn't let Christophe see the smile on his face, nor would he ever let on that the French boy had the ability to make him smile again. Perhaps their friendship wasn't forever broken, perhaps in time they could work up a trust again. So like everything else in Gregory's life it relied on time.

And right then, it was time to go see his boyfriend and make love; a very good use of it indeed.