Authoress' Notes—Hey all, sorry this chapter has taken me so long. Home-life got unexpectedly complicated for a while. But I'm back now…and with winter break coming, this fic should be getting along. Enjoy it! Please review, or contact me at my email: quatresboo@hotmail.com. I look forward to hearing from you all!

12 Days

December 15, A.C. 200

Neo-London, L-6 Colony Cluster

The Third Day

On the third day of Christmas,

My true love gave to me,

Three French hens, two turtle doves,

And a partridge in a pear tree.

Quatre Raberba Winner was in a state of euphoria. It was a heady feeling, one that left him dizzy and happy, and infused him with an energy he hadn't had in a long time. It was with him in his dreams; she was with him in his dreams. In fact, he was waking from one of those sweet dreams at present, smiling even before he opened his eyes. He snuggled into his pillow, feeling warm and happy, and while he longed to see her, he found that he was loath at the thought of leaving bed. He was too content. Amazing how this woman, Angel, could do that to him in less than 72 hours. She brought the magic back into Christmas, she made it all worth it.

Oh man, he thought to himself, sitting up with a grin, I'm in way over my head. But he didn't care. How could he? He'd spent two incredible days falling in love with a stranger. It was like some movie scene, or something out of one of his sisters' romance novels. It seemed too fast, too good, too perfect to be real, but somehow it was. It was really, truly happening, and he was hoping against hope that she would accept his proposal on Christmas morning. Waking up beside her for the rest of his life sounded heavenly.

Gathering a sheet around his bare waist, he padded over to his dresser and pulled on some clothes, then headed to the kitchen, humming. Then he was laughing. How in the world had he ended up so lucky?

© --©

"How in the world have I ended up so cursed?" Angel demanded of her best friend, shaking her head in misery. Makoto Tanaka leveled a gaze at the young woman, half-amused and half-exasperated. She turned away again and walked over to a counter to continue slicing into bacon for an omelet. She sighed aloud, wondering for the zillionth time why she always got asked the hard questions.

"Angel, luv, you have to tell him," she replied, bracing herself for the smaller woman's response. The brace was needed.

"I can't tell him, that's the whole point," Angel snapped, hauling herself off of the stool she'd propped herself on. The two women were standing in the middle of O'Malley's Restaurant; Angel at a stool in the island in the kitchen, Mako preparing breakfast for her agitated companion.

"Five in the bloody morning is an ungodly hour to be arguing in my kitchen," came a rather disgruntled voice from the doorway to the back room and the stairs. Louie O'Malley stood there, rubbing sleep from his eyes and blinking blearily at the girls. "Even if you are my adopted daughters." Then, more to himself than them, "You both take after Lizzy."

Even Angel had to smile at that, as miserable as she was. Louie had that effect on people. He was an English man in his late forties, but he didn't seem that old to her. He was usually quite chipper, but then again, she reflected, he usually wasn't up for two more hours.

"Sorry, Louie," the girls chorused, and saw the smile tug at the corner of his lips. He glanced up, sniffed the air delicately, and the smile bloomed.

"You're forgiven if that omelet's for me," he told them, and settled down onto a stool. "Now, Angel, tell me what's wrong."

Damn that insight of his. Angel paused, trying to think of a way to put her thoughts into words. Millions of things swirled around in her mind, clustered tangles of thoughts without organization. Emotions that she'd bottled up for months threatened to spill over, and had the situation not been so serious, she might have even laughed at the irony of it all. But there was bitterness now, and a desperate rage at an unseen enemy. And even as she struggled to put it all into words, the world was waking up around her, there to continue on as it always would; living, thriving, breathing, pounding, without a second thought to a single human life. She raged, too, at the normal-ness of the rest of the world. It didn't seem quite fair.

She sighed, pulling herself from the thoughts that haunted her darkest hours. She looked at Louie, and a tear slid down her cheek.

"My heart is broken."

Louie stared into her blue eyes, his own heart breaking. There was a double meaning to those words, a double meaning that ripped into him every time he thought about her. He motioned silently for her to continue, reaching up to brush the tear away. She took a long, deep breath and continued.

"I can't tell him, Louie…I just can't. But I'll break his heart, and it's breaking mine. Quatre is…amazing. He's perfect. And I'm just going to hurt him."

"Luv, it wasn't your choice to—"

"But it happened!" she shouted. "As unfair, as…unintentional…as blind as it was, it happened. I keep wanting to break things off with him—to save him from this—but I look at him and I can't. I need him. He's like…like air to my lungs. Seventy-two hours, Louie…that's all I've spent with him. And I know, I know he's the one and I…oh, God…"

She broke off, not quite crying. She was beyond crying. This was a silent misery, one that left a person without tears. Slowly, he reached for her and drew her closer. Mako moved in from behind to wrap her arms around Angel's slender frame as the tiny body rocked with dry sobs.

Finally, after an eternity, she looked up, her eyes bright with pain, fear, self-loathing. She shook her head, hopeless and lost. "I…I'll try to tell him."

© --©

He had flowers. Twenty-four long-stemmed roses, all packaged together and held in the group by a large, velvet bow. And as Angel looked at him, so handsome in a white button-down shirt and dark blue jeans, she felt her heart crack a bit more. She was keeping something terrible from him. It wasn't fair of her, but she was. Near tears, she walked up to meet him, and managed a big smile when he took her in his arms.

"Just nine more days," he whispered. "Am I any closer to keeping you forever?"

She buried her face in his shoulder, the tears threatening to leak out. She nodded against his skin, so choked up she didn't trust her voice. He stroked her hair and held her close, intent on cherishing her. Even her scent had enchanted him.

"Are you ready for breakfast?" he asked finally, pulling back. She stepped back into him, desperate for the contact, needing to feel his warmth, wanting to sink into him.

"Not yet," she croaked, her voice weak with emotion. "Just hold me."

He did, until she was ready to eat, and then he took her to a small café and fed her like a queen. They strolled in silence down a street, window shopping and laughing, and she felt the gloominess lift from her soul. He was grinning at her, holding her tight against his side as if he'd never let go. Her heart melted all over again. Had circumstances been different, she would have been able to accept his proposal—the one she knew was coming—but she wasn't so sure she could…

Dammit, she was going to hurt him.

Not yet! something inside her screamed. Hold it in, relish this moment. You've got nine days.

Nine days could be an eternity.

© --©

Something was wrong with Angel, he could tell. Quatre wondered what it was, and wanted to drive it from her with a passion that surprised him. He held her closer, willing her to be happy again. Seeing her sad wasn't something he liked. At all. He leaned down and brushed his lips over her cheek.

"What's wrong, little Angel?" he asked, searching her blue eyes with his own aquamarine ones. Something in her eyes fled from his. She shook her head slowly, dispelling the gloom that had seconds ago been hanging like clouds in her stormy eyes.

"Nothing…it's nothing important. Just a conversation I had this morning."

"I see…are you sure you're all right?"

"Positive." To prove it, she pulled back and offered him a bright smile. "See? You make me feel better."

He nodded, not quite convinced, and started to pull her toward a shop. "Come on, I wanted to show you something—"

-

Two hours later, arms full of bags and faces full of smiles, the two crossed the street intent on heading to a movie. They were arm-in-arm, bags included, and she'd never felt so complete in her life. There were little piles of snow on the sidewalks, and it was brisk enough out to see her breath. Quatre was warm against her side, strong and vibrant and alive.

"Hm…what do you want to see?" he asked, and she glanced up at him and winked.

"Well, I guess the question is, will we be watching the movie?" she asked mischievously. His eyes darkened a little and he grinned.

"That depends. Do you want to watch the movie?"

She laughed and tapped his nose. "Yeah…why spend a couple pounds when we could kiss for perfectly free somewhere else?" He shrugged, still grinning, and tugged her toward the line.

"All right, then, which one?"

In the end they settled for a romantic comedy, opting out on the full-blown action or the tear-jerkers, and deciding against the holiday frivolity as well. As the theatre darkened, she leaned against him and settled comfortably into her chair, enjoying the feel of him hooking his chin on the top of her head. His fingers tangled themselves in the waves of her hair. Then the previews were rolling, and Quatre kissed the side of her neck.

"Mmmm…I thought we were gonna watch the movie," she purred. He grinned and pecked her on the lips.

"These are the previews. They don't count," he explained. He tipped her chin up for a longer kiss.

This was a side of Quatre she'd never seen before. He had a great ability to love, and apparently, she thought in a daze as he kissed her again, a large amount of passion. She felt cherished there in his arms, and rather juvenile for making out during a movie. She chuckled against his lips.

"The movie's starting," she told him.

"So we'll miss the intro," he muttered, kissing her again. "Besides, I can't help it. You're addictive."

She chuckled again and let him have his way. They surfaced for air just long enough to catch the end.

"Well, she got the guy," she commented.

"I knew it," he replied, laughing as he steered her out of the theatre.

"Smart-ass," she snapped good-naturedly, and they went to lunch.

© --©

Quatre flopped down on the couch in his living room. It was close to seven…he'd been out with Angel for almost twelve hours. And enjoyed every second of it. He laughed out loud, stretched out, and pictured waking up beside her, kissing her…one of their kids throwing himself into their bed to squeeze between them. He pictured a big family, all excited about Christmas, all waiting to see what Santa had brought them.

It was right. Surely Angel saw that. She'd say yes—she had to.

"Quatre-sama," Rasid murmured, walking over to the couch. "Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm fine. What are you doing here, Rasid? I thought you were going back to the desert," he replied, sitting up.

"I was…but I have something to take care of here, so I've decided to stick around for a little while, if it's alright," the taller man ventured. Quatre grinned.

"Of course. I'd love to have you for the holidays. It's been too long."

Rasid smiled and led the young man to the kitchen so that they could continue to talk while he ate. Quatre watched idly, chatting about his day and about Angel.

"You sound quite enchanted with her, Quatre-sama," Rasid commented.

"More than enchanted, Rasid. I think I'm in love with her."

Rasid raised an eyebrow. "I hope you're sure."

"As sure as I've ever been." Quatre leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "Now I've got to convince her that I'm perfect for her."

The older man smiled easily. "I don't think you'll have much trouble."

"I sure hope not," replied the blonde. "Well, I'd better go wait for her call—I sent her more gifts."

Rasid laughed. "It had better be love. You're spending too much money for her to turn you down."

Quatre joined in the laughter as he headed to his room. Please say yes, he willed Angel silently, and collapsed into his bed to wait.

© --©

Three rings; one diamond, one ruby, one sapphire. All beautifully crafted and quite large, and they all fit perfectly. Angel shook her head and stared at them.

"Quatre Raberba Winner," she snapped playfully into the phone. "You have got to stop buying me stuff like this."

"Why? And anyway, it's only for nine more days. Then I can stop."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah…you'll have said yes and then…well, then everything that's mine becomes yours, too," he told her.

"Is it all stuff like this?"

"Some of it."

"Nerd…when am I supposed to wear these, anyway? They look a bit classy for my regular jeans and sweater ensemble."

He laughed, a welcome sound. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

"I think I'll give the ruby one to Mako for Christmas."

"You'll do no such thing. They're yours. She can get her own rich boyfriend," he replied, and they both laughed.

"Thank you…" she told him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bright and early at O'Malley's," he agreed. "Sleep well."

"You too."

"Bye."

She sank into her bed, torn but happy. God, she loved him. She missed him all ready. With a sigh, she stretched out and closed her eyes, picturing him there with her, and decided that she'd tell him later. She wouldn't ruin today.

You're just making it worse.

So be it.

I hope I know what I'm doing…

She drifted to sleep a moment later, dreaming of him.