Here we are. The last chapter.

Enjoy~

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Chapter 11

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"Mr. Peacecraft..."

Milliardo kept his fingers running slowly through the short locks as he answered. "Yes, Mr. Winner?"

Snuggling a bit closer, Quatre clung tighter to the broad frame resting next to him on the cot. "I hate to bring this up... But you know we need to discuss the matter of when you wish to return to your base..." he mumbled quietly.

It was the last thing that Milliardo wanted to think of, but he let out a long sigh of resignation. "I know... Part of me doesn't want to.."

Quatre sat up a bit to look into the pale gaze. "You don't have to... You could stay here..." He reached out and tenderly caressed the man's face. "You could stay here with me... Just accept my offer..." he whispered, the longing evident in his eyes.

It pained him to see that hope in the brilliant eyes, but Milliardo had to shake his head. "I can't, Mr. Winner... No matter how much I want to..." He took hold of the small hand resting on his face. "I have to finish what I've started... I wouldn't be able to look myself in the eye if I didn't see this through to the end..."

Although the words hurt, Quatre knew what the man was saying. "I understand... Just let me know when you wish to... I'll make the arrangements." he said while bowing his bead.

Not liking the sad posture, Zechs tilted the bruised chin up and looked into the sparkling depths. They almost seemed to shimmer even in the dark. Each time he looked into them he felt his emotions for the boy grow. He knew he had to leave soon before he was too attached, but he still leaned forward to gently take Quatre's lips in a tender kiss.

Quatre moaned softly against the warm mouth and found himself on top of the man straddling his hips. Their tongues lazily twined together as they took their time tasting one another. Milliardo ran his hand down Quatre's back while the Arabian threaded his fingers into the long blond hair. Their intimate moments never progressed further than the sensual kisses and lingering touches, but neither of them minded. They were only focused on the warmth their companion provided. The fact that they were together was all that mattered to them.

After several long moments Quatre pulled away and placed wet kisses along the strong neck. "Just remember this... Don't think that because I dream of having you like this every night means that I won't kick your ass out there..."

The playful words made Milliardo chuckle. "Same goes for you... And I will admit that I've had several dreams about Cassie..." A sly smirk formed on his face as he had Quatre look at him. "I don't suppose I could get you to dress up in that little uniform again before I leave..."

Quatre glared playfully at the man and nipped at the tip of his nose. "Unfortunately I don't have the means to obtain the uniform... But I'll make a deal with you.. If you manage to capture me after you leave I'll let you keep me locked away in your quarters and I'll wear it all the time for you..."

"Oh my.. You have a deal. I did love the red streaks you had in your hair.. It was quite sexy..." Milliardo purred as he stole a few quick kisses.

"I'll make a note to do it again for you someday..."

"Please do.." Milliardo continued to kiss a line down the neck he had abused days before. His tongue ran over an old scar on the bruised skin. It was a scar he knew from his true first encounter with the rebel. How he missed it before, he had no clue, but, now that he found it, he lavished it with gentle attention as a silent apology.

He had so much to apologize for, it was ridiculous. But here he was, Quatre clinging to him like nothing wrong had happened. He still couldn't understand it. However with each lingering kiss he was steadily thinking that maybe he didn't have to understand. Just accept it for what it was.

Companionship.

'But.. Is it really that simple..' Milliardo never could let unanswered questions pass by.

"Dammit.. Why is this tearing me up inside..?" he asked on a whisper.

"Probably.. For the same reason it's tearing me up as well.." Quate answered as his heart pounded even as it clenched painfully in his chest. "We've already let go once.. Twice seems cruel, doesn't it..?" he questioned quietly while burying his face against the man's neck.

When he thought back to the first time they had to part ways, Milliardo couldn't deny it made the pain all the more bitter. "Perhaps.. Sooner would be better. We can't cling to this forever.. We can't hide from the war."

Quatre bit his lower lip and took a deep breath to calm himself. "I know... No matter how much both of us want it.. Dammit..." It took all of his strength, but Quatre managed to pull away. He sat up atop his enemy and looked down at him with glossy eyes. "In the morning... I'll see if Kingston is well enough to be transported. If not I'll arrange for him to be taken to the nearest hospital... You tell me which airbase you want me to deliver you to, and I'll take you there."

When it was said it only made reality crash down around them more brutally. It was harsh, and painful, but it was the truth. This couldn't last.

'No good thing ever does.' Milliardo came to that conclusion long ago, but it didn't make things any easier.

He nodded his consent to the offer. "Very well. In the morning..."

A sad smile curved Quatre's lips. "In the morning..." he repeated before settling back down on the strong chest. His arms wrapped firmly around his companion as he nuzzle the cords in Milliardo's neck. "Until then.. Can we pretend a little longer?"

The question had his pale eyes close as he mirrored that smile. "Yeah..." His arms wrapped firm around the slender body while he buried his face into the soft hair. "We'll pretend until morning."

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Morning seemed to arrive quicker than either anticipated. Neither had slept through the night. They spent every second memorizing as much as they could. The feel of the others' arms wrapped around them. The scent of their hair. The sound of the other breathing.

The warmth that felt too damn right.

Though the lights of dawn were approaching, Quatre seemed to cling tighter. He didn't want this to end. He didn't want to go back to having to hate each other. Having to hurt each other. It wasn't fair. None of this war was fair. He had a little happiness within his grasp, and he was being forced to give it up. After everything he had been through he couldn't help but feel he had already earned this. This should be his.

But it wasn't.

'Not yet..'

Despite the pain, the distrust, and the overwhelming odds against them...

Quatre wasn't ready to give up on this. 'This is the last time I'll let go...'

But he still had to let go.

With a deep breath, Quatre finally began to pull away from Milliardo's warm arms. When he sat up he looked down, not surprised to see the pale eyes locked on him. They looked to one another silently for what seemed like hours. Weakly clinging to this last moment.

Milliardo found himself raising his hand, and wasn't surprised when Quatre readily took hold of it. Their fingers laced together, and he watched as the boy leaned in to place a soft kiss to his scraped knuckles. He didn't want to leave this. For the first time...

He knew he could belong somewhere.

Letting his lips linger on the man's knuckles, Quatre held on a bit tighter before he pulled away. He stood up from the cot and gave one last smile. It was sad, but genuine. He then turned to leave. Letting Milliardo's fingers slip out of his grasp.

He watched as the Arabian left. His fingers felt so cold the moment they slipped away from Quatre's. He wanted to call out. To tell Quatre he changed his mind. But he didn't. He watched silently as his companion walked out of his tent. The moment the flaps closed behind him, an overwhelming sense of loss fell over Milliardo. Quatre wasn't going to be coming back here for him.

Knowing he couldn't take things back now, Milliardo forced himself to stand. He looked around bleakly at the little he had around him, but he knew it had been enough moments before.

Shaking his head in frustration, Milliardo forced himself to get dressed. He had to get his head straight. He had made his decision. 'Even though I feel like I'm regretting it already..'

Shortly he was stepping out of his tent and looking around at the bustling that was the diligence of Quatre's men. He knew that the young soldier had the best of the best here at his command. He wasn't worried in the least of their chances. Though their numbers were small, their skill and experience set them apart. The rest of the forces only had numbers on their side. His own included. He almost shuddered to think what Quatre would have been capable of if he had Libra under his control. 'None of us would stand a chance.'

He set about the almost routine that he had settled into during his brief stay here. Getting food from the mess tent, greeting the smiling and polite faces that were all around him. He couldn't understand how they all could smile so easily with what they had been through at first. But all it took was to remember that last smile he had been given before Quatre left him for him to understand now. 'And I'm leaving it.' He had been given a chance to become a part of this...

And he was walking away. "I'm still an idiot." he mused as he picked at what was left of his breakfast.

"That may be true, but you have your reasons for it, I'm sure."

Hearing the deep voice, Milliardo froze for a moment before he turned to look back at the man towering behind where he was seated. Rashid commanded respect without a single word or move. One could sense the strength and pride that exuded from him. Milliardo had never really been intimidated in his relatively short life, but he knew this man was not someone to cross. Ever.

"... Do reasons change what being an idiot is?" Milliardo finally asked. It was clear the man wanted to speak with him. Rashid had pretty much avoided him for the duration of his stay.

A slight shrug tilted the broad shoulders. A gesture that seemed odd coming from the large man. "There are times. Doing what you think is right conflicts with what you feel is right. It could seem idiotic. Especially when you're uncertain with your choice."

Though it seemed cryptic, the words were spot on. Milliardo frowned as he turned in his seat to look at the other man properly. "When.. Don't you mean if I am uncertain?"

A thick brow arched up at the question as he folded his arms over his chest. He gave a long stare to Milliardo for a moment before he spoke. "If. If your position was different, I don't think we'd be discussing this."

Milliardo blinked and tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

A slight smirk quirked at Rashid lips. "If you were still a subordinate instead of a leader. If you were still someone else. I think we both know what your decision would have been."

His heart thudded in his chest as he was confronted with that idea. If he was still Zechs.. 'I wouldn't let anything pull me away from his side.. Not again..' Swallowing hard, Milliardo looked away. "So you know about that as well..."

"I know that when Master Quatre makes up his mind, nothing will change it. He has made up his mind about you." A slight frown formed over the maguanac's face as he looked seriously at the blond. "Know this. When you leave here, do not return to your place half hearted. You made your decision, you follow through with it. You face Master Quatre seriously. If you don't, it will only make him falter."

Pale blue eyes narrowed slightly. "What are you getting at..?"

"When you face off against Master Quatre again once you leave, you do it with the intent to kill."

Milliardo stared in alarm. "But.."

Rashid held up a hand to keep him silent. "You can't hold back. If you do, he will. That will prove dangerous to you both. You can't allow that. How will Master Quatre be able to focus on what he needs to do if all he can think about is why you're not trying? Neither of you can afford that distraction."

He wanted to deny it, but Milliardo knew it was the truth. He couldn't be lenient with Quatre. It would make too many suspicious. Place even more of a target on the boy's head.

He heaved a heavy breath before he nodded. "I understand..." Milliardo looked away and mulled over all the things that could possibly happen, but found the outcomes were to overwhelming to consider. "The moment we part ways, we're enemies. We will be until this war comes to an end."

The captain knew this was placing a strain on the White Fang leader. Which in a way pleased Rashid. He could see that Milliardo was torn. That meant that his intentions towards his young master were genuine. Despite the tension and the hardships, the man that Quatre had first been drawn to was still there. Even though Milliardo wasn't aware of it himself.

"Until the war ends." Rashid repeated in a thoughtful tone. "I believe we will see the end of this war sooner than many think."

Milliardo lifted his head and looked to the older man curiously. "What makes you say that?"

"Up until this point, the war has consisted of inner power struggles and claiming territories. No one has yet to make a stand and draw the line for the final battle. I believe that is what it will take to place the conflict to an end."

The way Rashid was looking at him had Milliardo frowning suspiciously. "It sort of sounds like you're suggesting something.."

A slight smirk curled the tan lips. "Does it?" Rashid suddenly turned and began walking away. "Your wounded man is in stable condition, and has been asking for you. We will be taking him with us when we move camp and take him to the nearest medical facility for better treatment. He may feel better about the situation if you explain it to him."

Though the abrupt departure threw him off, the entire encounter left him with a great deal to think about. "Draw the line... Perhaps..." Ideas began spinning through his mind, but he silenced them for the moment.

After finishing the rest of his neglected meal, Milliardo stood and began heading for the medical tents. He had yet to see Kingston since their arrival, but he could only imagine that the man was getting the best possible care here.

On entering the medical tent, he quickly saw Kingston sitting upright in bed looking to be finished with his own breakfast. He approached the bed calmly and stopped beside the wounded soldier. "Kingston."

The soldier looked up quickly and offered a weak salute. "Commander Peacecraft. I'm glad to see you, sir. I was getting concerned."

A slight smirk was on Milliardo's face as he reached out to place a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Everything's fine, Kingston. I was told you'll be recovering nicely once you've gotten treatment at a fully equipped hospital."

"Ah... They said.. They would be taking me with them..." Kingston picked at the sheet he was covered with. "Sir... I'm.. Conflicted..."

Milliardo hummed in amusement and patted the man's shoulder. "You're not the only one, Kingston. But I assure you these people keep to their word. I'll be returning to the base in Morocco today, but unfortunately, you're still not well enough for the trip in the plane."

Kingston nodded and bit at his lower lip. "Sir.. What should I do once I'm well..?"

"I expect you to return to your family and take care of them." Milliardo smirked at the shocked look on the wounded soldier's pale face. "I'm being sincere. You've done enough. As soon as you're well, go home. You don't need to return to my ranks."

The soldier took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yes sir. I think I will."

Milliardo nodded and pulled away. "You should consider yourself lucky. This is certainly the best treatment I've ever received while being a prisoner."

"Heh.. You're correct there, Sir. I don't think anyone else would believe it. Will you be leaving soon?"

"Yes, probably within the hour." Milliardo held his hand out. "Take care of yourself, Kingston."

The soldier smiled and shook the hand as firmly as he could manage. "Thank you, sir. You as well."

Milliardo released the man's hand and exitted the tent. He could heard a plane's engine close by. On seeing Auda approaching him, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Time to return to reality."

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As they stood there at the edge of the landing strip, Milliardo couldn't help but feel a hint of disappointment as he looked on at the reality that he would be returning to in the next few moments. But as he thought of returning to his troops, he glanced at the younger blond standing next to him. They hadn't said a word to one another the entire duration of the flight here

"You didn't have to come out here, you know..." he pointed out lightly, still curious as to why the young rebel insisted on walking with him as he returned to his command.

Quatre shrugged slightly. "I said I would personally escort you back to whatever destination you chose. I'm just fulfilling my end of our agreement." he explained calmly.

For some reason that answer made Milliardo frown, and he couldn't help but feel an even greater disappointment tugging at his heart. "I see.. Well I suppose you should better leave before my men arrive... They might not listen to my orders to hold off on pursuing you once I'm safe." He said as calmly as he could.

"Yeah..." At that moment Quatre then turned towards the man and held out his still bandaged hand. "See you out on the battle field, Mr. Peacecraft."

Milliardo looked at the hand for a moment before taking it in his and shaking it firmly. "Until then, Mr. Winner..." he grunted, aware that at that moment they were enemies once again.

For a moment they looked into one another's eyes and something passed between them, something neither could identify. To Milliardo it almost felt as if he was losing something as the slender hand slipped from his grasp. After they regarded each other for a moment longer, Quatre turned away and slowly began walking back towards the plane that would take him back to his maguanac family.

Milliardo watched for a moment, and part of him suddenly wanted to board that plane once more. To head back to the desert oasis where things were simple and he felt like a real person again. But he had his men and his goals that he had to return to. So with a heavy heart he turned as well to head for the base's main building where his men would be waiting for him to take up command once more.

After he walked a few feet, Milliardo suddenly heard a shout from behind him.

"Hey Milliardo!"

Startled, Milliardo turned to see the young rebel about thirty yards away grinning directly at him. "Yes.. Quatre?"

Grinning wider, Quatre pointed at the blond man as he spoke. "If you make it out of this war my offer still stands! Look me up if you're still interested!" he called out almost playfully.

A slight smirk forming on his own battered face, Milliardo responded. "Don't you mean if both of us make it out?" he inquired lightly.

Quatre merely gave the white fang leader a sly wink and waved. "I'll be waiting for you!" He called out one last time before turning on his heel and running the rest of the way towards his plane.

Milliardo stood still for a moment as he watched Quatre board the plane before it started its take off sequence. A few minutes later the tan air craft was lifting off the ground and heading back towards the vast desert. As he watched the plane become smaller as it headed towards the horizon, the smirk hadn't left Milliardo's face.

"I will certainly consider it... Quatre..."

fjfjfjfj The End fjfjfjfj

There you have it.

Took me forever, but I got it done.

I do have more for this story line. A prequel and a sequel, both unfinished.

I may post them someday, Feel free to tell me if you want more.

Until then

Later~