A/N. Narcissus was the flower for the month of Decemeber. Set between seasons one and two, Feldt and Haro, who kind of took over not even half way through writing this thing.

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Never have, never will, just borrowing the characters

Narcissus

She had forgotten her sixteenth birthday in the chaos that followed the fall of Celestial Being, just as her fifteenth had been lost among missions and work. Ian had remembered though and brought out a cake his wife had made after dinner was done, and she had smiled, and asked him to thank Linda for her, but she had eaten little and the day passed by with accidentally-on-purpose avoidance of any other crew members who knew, though the card tucked under her door bore Lasse's neat handwriting and the flower hair clip was clearly from Ian's young daughter whom she had met a time or two. She was a bright, cheerful little child who reminded Feldt of a younger Christina. The items were put away, safe in a drawer, she didn't feel like celebrating, but she would thank them none the less in the morning.

"Happy Birthday, Feldt. Happy Birthday, Feldt."

"Thanks, Haro."

She kept the little robot close, looking after him because no one else quite seemed to know how or else couldn't make the time. She did both, because Haro was the closest thing to a real friend she had right now, as much as she tried to reach out to Tieria, she still had a long way to go, and it was lonely out in space. Lasse and Ian were company, family, but it wasn't the same as having Chris there, or-

She cut off the line of thought there.

"Night, Haro."

"Sleep well. Sleep well."

The little robot watched her, always quiet, but more so now as she turned away in her bed, curled up in a ball, and drifted to sleep. Haro didn't sleep though, he was meant to look out for the girl, make her smile, and that was why he repeated the words everyone else had said - Happy Birthday - but she didn't seem happy. She was still sad, and Haro...didn't want Feldt to be sad, or empty, like missing data.

The room was strange at night, quiet Feldt too quiet and small, and hurt but he couldn't see where, and so couldn't report it and couldn't make her better again. But he tried.

Papers rustled and Haro nearly rolled off the desk, rolling over to see what was going on, but he couldn't see a thing. There was only a flower. One flower which he was sure hadn't been there before. Feldt hadn't brought back flowers, but he knew this one, she had told him the name once, a narcissus, bright white in the darkness.

It means sweetness, the December flower.

"Lockon? Lockon?"

Crash.

"Lockon! Lockon!"

Feldt opened her eyes at the sound of Haro hitting the floor and quickly jumped out of bed again, her heart twisting as he kept repeating Lockon's name over and over again, bundling up the little robot in her arms. Maybe she wasn't the only who had nightmares about that day.

"Feldt sweet. Feldt sweet."

"Haro, are you okay? You haven't broken anything have you?"

"Haro fine. Haro fine." The little robot gave her a curious look. "Feldt broken? Feldt broken?"

She was crying again and she was tired and confused, but she didn't want to worry Haro, so she shook her head. "I'm okay, Haro."

"Feldt broken! Feldt broken!" Haro insisted, the flower momentarily forgotten in his distress at Feldt's tears.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Haro, I can't help it, I just..." The rest of her words were lost as she choked and bowed her head, her eyes hidden. "I'm sorry."

It hurt, it hurt so much, even now, and she knew it shouldn't. Lasse had said it was just crush, that she would get over it, but she hadn't, and it hurt. Chris had never said the same, she'd smiled and laughed and admitted even to a little jealousy that she and Lockon could speak as freely they did but Allelujah never seemed to have the time for her. Chris had understood what Feldt only now knew but didn't want to voice.

"Something wrong? Something wrong?" Haro was persistent, Lockon would have known what to say to fix the girl, he made her smile, and the robot remembered the flower. He repeated the message again. "Lockon says Feldt sweet. Lockon says Feldt sweet."

She gave a half-hearted smile, "Thank you, Haro, but I don't think so."

"Left present! Left present! Narcissus! Narcissus!" Haro was desperate by now, a broken Feldt was bad, a broken Feldt would make Lockon sad. "On desk! On desk!"

He heard her gasp, looking up at the desk and the white flower sitting harmlessly beside her only photo of the whole crew. A narcissus, she knew Haro knew that, she had taught him the name once at Wang Lui Mei's mansion, but it had been Lockon who later told her of the flower's meaning - "For December birthdays," he'd said, before adding with a grin, "Think we should get one for Tieria?" - and she had never had a chance to tell Haro. Only Haro and Lockon knew of her love of flowers.

Feldt smiled, and Haro was glad, as she stood up and picked up the flower, holding it carefully in one hand, the other still holding her robot friend tight. "Thank you, Haro."

"Not Haro. Not Haro." She still didn't seem to understand, not that he did either, but he felt the point needed to be stressed. "Lockon says Happy Birthday. Lockon says Happy Birthday."

"Thank you, Haro." She repeated, and her voice was quiet, but not the empty-quiet of broken, but the soft-quiet of the Feldt he knew from before. "And," she looked down at her photo, "Thank you, Lockon."

Haro wasn't sure if he heard her right, but he was sure he heard her add to the end of it: "Love you."

She kept the flower on her desk, kept it alive as long as she could, and kept the memory of it in her heart, and Haro watched as she began to fix other flowers, finding ways to make them grow with Linda's expert help. Anything and everything, and she told him about each and every one, changing with the seasons down on earth, her own little project amongst the war and preparations, but there was one flower she kept all year round: One single white narcissus which she kept in a vase beside her photo frame.

Narcissus were sweet, and so was Feldt, Lockon wasn't wrong. That was what Haro thought.