Richard
"You get one wish."
Richard blinked in surprise as he came to in what appeared to be a white void with no identifying features.
Where am I? How did I get here?
Looking around, he couldn't see anybody else nearby.
"What will you choose?" The voice suddenly spoke again, as though coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Richard asked, scanning his surroundings as he tried to figure out where the voice was coming from.
"I want to know your wish," the voice replied calmly.
Frowning, Richard looked around once more.
"Is this a dream?" He asked.
At this, there was an amused laugh.
"It is… And yet, at the same time, it's more than just that. So, choose: What do you wish for?"
Richard hesitated for a moment.
"I can ask for anything I want?"
"Of course," the voice answered. "Now tell me, what is your wish?"
"…I wish for nothing," Richard replied firmly.
"And why is that?" The voice sounded surprised.
"If I want something, I'll make sure I truly earn it," Richard explained.
"Being granted something I want without having to work for it would make it meaningless."
The ringing of the phone woke Richard from a half-remembered dream. With a slight groan, he reached over to answer it, careful not to wake his sleeping wife.
"Miller speaking."
"Agent Miller, my apologies for waking you at this hour. There's been an incident and we need you on duty."
"Roger that sir, I'm on my way."
Hanging up, Richard glanced over at Rachel, who was thankfully still fast asleep.
After pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, he quickly began to prepare for his latest mission, dream all but forgotten.
(Richard has always been ready to fight for what matters.)
Robert
"–One wish," the voice said.
"Excuse me?" Robert glared in the general direction of the voice, not at all amused.
"What kind of nonsense is this?"
"I'm afraid I don't understand," the voice replied, sounding confused.
"Fairytale nonsense and magical wishes? I thought my subconscious had more sense than that," Robert retorted.
"Do you not plan to wish?" The voice asked.
"This is utterly ridiculous," Robert spat. "Fine, you want my wish? I want to put an end to this nonsense and wake up!"
Robert woke to near–darkness, lit only by a flickering desk lamp, as well as a stiff neck and aching shoulders. With a muffled groan, he slowly sat up, carefully rolling his shoulders in an attempt to placate his sore muscles.
Cursing himself for having fallen asleep in such an uncomfortable position — while doing paperwork, no less — he began gathering up the documents scattered across his desk, organising them into a neat pile once more.
Though a quick glance at the clock told him it was 2 in the morning, Robert dismissed the current time as irrelevant and plunged back into his work, sparing no thought for the dream he'd already forgotten.
(Robert has never had the time or patience for wishing.)
Keith
"–One wish," the voice said.
Keith frowned in concentration as he considered the voice's offer.
Though some distant part of him recognised that this was merely a dream, the rest of him was curious to see how this would play out.
"How does this work then? If I wish for wings, am I gonna actually wake up with a pair of them growing out of me?"
"I'm afraid I'm not allowed to tell you how your wish will play out," the voice replied apologetically. "Knowing the consequences of your wish ahead of time is against the rules."
"Hmm." Keith thought for a moment. "Tempting as it is to see how that would work, I'd better not. I might end up getting experimented on by the next mad scientist the VSSE faces off against and growing a pair of wings that way."
There was a long moment of silence.
"I guess…" He finally said, "If I only get one wish…"
"I wish Robert would be a bit less uptight and relax sometimes. He's always so serious. He needs to have a bit of fun once in a while."
As Keith awoke to the bright rays of the morning sun, he glanced over at the clock on his bedside table out of habit.
A sudden surge of panic shot through him when he realised it was already past 10.
Crap, I'm late for work!
Just as he began scrambling out of bed and rushing to get ready, he then remembered that today was his day off.
Oh thank goodness.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Keith leaned back against his pillow, yawning slightly.
He felt as though he'd awoken from an odd, somewhat bittersweet dream, though he couldn't quite seem to remember what it had been about.
With a shake of his head, Keith banished all thoughts of his dream from his mind, deciding he might as well get up since he was already awake.
As he began to get dressed, he found himself thinking about Robert.
Although it was also Robert's day off today, Keith knew that his partner was probably holed up in his room working anyway.
Normally, Keith would have just shrugged and left Robert alone. But for some reason, he found himself frowning this time.
Robert works too much. He needs to relax and unwind for once.
Abruptly, he decided it wouldn't hurt to head to Robert's apartment next door and check on him. After all, it had been a while since they'd last hung out. Perhaps he should invite his partner to grab lunch together.
Decision made, he quickly finished getting dressed and left his apartment.
Still, knowing that his partner probably wouldn't be pleased about him interrupting his work, Keith hesitated outside Robert's apartment, wondering if he should just forget it and walk away.
Might as well just talk to him. If he tells me to get lost, then that's the end of it.
Before he could reconsider, Keith knocked firmly on Robert's apartment door.
As though in response, he heard the sound of movement coming from within the apartment.
Moments later, the door swung open.
"Keith?" Robert looked both surprised and annoyed. "What do you want?"
Keith, in turn, was surprised to realise that Robert looked somewhat dishevelled, as though he had just woken up. Yet, the dark circles under his partner's eyes seemed to suggest that he hadn't slept much, if at all.
"Sorry, did I wake you?" Keith asked, studying his partner with concern.
"Of course not, I was working," Robert retorted. "Now spit it out, why are you here? And this had better be important."
"I came by to ask if you wanted to hang out," Keith explained. "It's been a while since we did anything together outside of work."
"Really? You interrupted my work for that?" Robert gave him a look of disbelief. "I'm busy, Keith."
"With what?" Keith stared right back at his partner, frustration and disbelief mingling in his tone. "It's our day off, for crying out loud!"
"Paperwork from our last mission, for one," Robert replied irritably. "Unlike some people, I actually prefer getting it done as soon as possible. Then there's mission reports to evaluate, reconnaissance results to compile, and–"
"Yeah, but you're always working!" Keith exclaimed. "When's the last time you actually left HQ for anything other than missions?"
Even as Robert glared at Keith, a flicker of something that might have been regret flitted across his face.
"Look, Keith…" He sighed. "Even if I wanted to take a break… Which I don't… I simply don't have time right now. Like it or not, I need to finish this stack of work soon. And if that means I have to work on our day off, so be it."
"Now, will you please buzz off so I can get back to work?"
There was a moment of silence. Then…
"…Let me help you," Keith suggested.
"…Sorry, what?" Robert seemed taken aback.
Keith rolled his eyes, giving Robert a pointed look.
"I can't just leave my partner to drown in work on our day off, can I? Especially when you look so tired. When's the last time you slept, anyway?"
"I'm fine, Keith," Robert protested, but there was no heat to his words.
"I'm sure you are," Keith replied dryly. "I'll help you finish up these reports. Then, we're both getting out of here for a few hours to unwind. Got that?"
Robert looked conflicted, as though he was torn between wanting to accept Keith's offer of help and clinging to his stubborn pride.
Finally, he took a step back and pulled the door open wider, allowing Keith to enter.
"Fine, if it makes you feel better," he grumbled. "Hurry up then, we don't have all day."
As Keith entered the apartment behind Robert, he made a mental note to keep a closer eye on Robert from now on.
After all, even a grouchy workaholic like Robert needed a break from time to time.
(Keith cares about his friends.)
Wesley
"–One wish," the voice said.
"Is that so?" Wesley flashed a wicked smirk in the voice's general direction.
This was just a dream, after all; what better way to enjoy it than to have a bit of fun?
"So, if I wish for an extra pair of arms, or laser vision, or the ability to breathe fire, will that actually work?"
"I'm afraid I can't tell you–"
"Or, what if I wish for Wild Dog to just drop dead? Or for world peace?" Wesley interrupted. "Will that be fulfilled too?"
"Uh–" The voice sounded a bit more uncertain this time.
"Oh wait, I know. What if I wish for something scientifically impossible, like for roosters to start laying eggs, or–"
There was an inhuman noise, like a cross between a snarl and a frustrated scream, and the void shattered around him.
Wesley jolted awake with a sudden start, a bubble of laughter dying in his throat.
What was that about?
Though he could only recall shattered fragments from his dream, any dream that had him waking up laughing couldn't possibly have been an unpleasant one.
Sliding out of bed, Wesley found himself whistling cheerfully as he washed up and began getting ready to start the day.
(Wesley has always been a smartass.)
Alan
"–One wish," the voice said.
Alan was both dismayed and ashamed to find that he already knew what he wanted to wish for.
He thought of Wesley and his gorgeous features… His beautiful eyes that were always bright with wicked mischief…
Brave, loyal and witty, Wesley was not just his partner but his best friend.
And yet…
It still wasn't enough for Alan.
They'd had that conversation long ago, and Alan had accepted Wesley's gentle rejection.
But spending almost every waking moment with the man he still had feelings for made it hard to get over him, even now.
He wanted his best friend to be happy.
But…
Sometimes, he wished that Wesley's happiness would be found by his side for once.
"I… I wish…" Alan began to say.
Then he stopped.
"Yes? What is it?" The voice spoke up, urging him to continue.
Alan hesitated for a long moment.
Would he really be able to live with himself if his happiness came at the expense of Wesley's desires and freedom?
"…No," he finally said. "I won't wish for anything."
"Why not?" The voice asked curiously.
"Because what I wish I could have is not mine to ask for," Alan said softly. "No matter what happens, I won't do that to him."
As consciousness slowly returned, Alan winced as a few rays of sunlight shone onto his still–closed eyelids, causing his already throbbing forehead to begin pounding more painfully. There was an odd, sour taste in his mouth as well, and his throat felt dry and scratchy.
How much did I drink last night?
Gradually, memories of the previous night filtered into his mind.
With Wesley out on a date with his latest girlfriend, Alan had found himself feeling rather lonely and melancholic. Deciding to distract himself, he'd decided to have a couple of drinks at a local bar.
Unfortunately, his gloomy mood meant that he had ended up drinking a bit too much, resulting in this morning's hangover.
Great, not again…
Though Alan didn't really want to admit it, this was hardly the first time this had happened. On previous occasions when he'd been alone and pining for Wesley, he'd also ended up having one too many drinks while trying to bury his feelings.
He knew it wasn't a healthy habit, but he couldn't bring himself to stop.
At least so far, he hadn't ended up doing anything he'd regret while drunk.
But deep down inside, he feared that one day, he might end up sleeping with some random stranger in an attempt to forget Wesley.
Or, worse yet, make a move on Wesley while drunk and irreparably damage their friendship.
"No matter what happens, I won't do that to him."
Alan blinked in surprise as a fragment of a half–remembered dream flashed across his mind.
What was that?
Casting his mind back, he tried to remember what he'd been dreaming about, but all he could recall were flashes of thoughts about Wesley and the lingering taste of sorrow.
Shaking his head slightly to clear it, Alan dismissed his odd dream from his mind. Still badly hungover and already late for work, he certainly had no time to dwell on dreams right now.
"You look like hell," Wesley commented as Alan shuffled into the office.
"Thanks Wesley, that's really helpful," Alan muttered, slumping into his seat at his desk.
As he nursed his aching head, Alan heard a rustle of movement from somewhere behind him.
Curiously, he raised his head just in time to see Wesley placing a cup of coffee and a couple of aspirin on his desk.
Giving his partner a nod of thanks, Alan downed the aspirin, sipping at the bitter coffee with a slight wince.
"What's going on with you?" Wesley suddenly asked.
"What do you mean?" Alan glanced at him in confusion.
In response, Wesley gave him a pointed look.
"You've been coming in hungover more and more frequently as of late."
"Wesley, the last thing I need while nursing a hangover is a lecture about drinking," Alan groaned, pressing a hand to his still–tender forehead.
"I'm more concerned about why you've been drinking so much recently," Wesley retorted. "This isn't like you."
"Look, it's nothing, really," Alan snapped.
The last thing he wanted was to admit to Wesley that he'd been trying to drink away his feelings for him.
There was a moment of silence.
"I'm just worried about you," Wesley finally said. "You're my best friend; if something's bothering you, I want to help."
Alan looked at Wesley then — really looked at him — seeing the gentle concern in his expression and the firm resolve in his earnest gaze.
Suddenly, he felt ashamed of his recent behaviour.
He remembered now that he'd decided, back when Wesley had first turned him down, that it didn't really matter if Wesley was unable to return his feelings. Although he could never be with Wesley in the way he wanted, he knew that Wesley cared about him as well.
His best friend had always had his back, sticking with him through thick and thin. In its own way, this was love too.
Somehow, over the years, he'd forgotten that, allowing himself to be consumed by jealousy instead.
Taking a deep breath, he promised himself that he'd put an end to his self–destructive drinking habit once and for all.
"…I know," Alan told Wesley, giving him a small smile. "Thanks Wesley. I'll be alright. I promise."
(Alan has always known that love is cruel. But at the same time, it's worth it anyway.)
Giorgio
"–One wish," the voice said.
Giorgio let out a bitter laugh. "You're awfully cruel, aren't you?"
"Cruel?" The voice sounded both curious and amused. "What could possibly be considered cruel about offering someone a wish?"
As a rush of memories washed over him, Giorgio involuntarily closed his eyes.
Warm sunlight shining into the kitchen… His mother's gentle smile… The comforting taste of gnocchi, made with an abundance of love…
The smoky yet familiar scent of his father's favourite cigar… A rare smile of approval from his father's stern features…
Gruff concern in his adoptive father's eyes… The fiercely protective strength in his muscular frame… The withered, emaciated state he'd been reduced to in his last days, wracked by illness…
Evan's pale blue eyes sparkling with warmth… His eternally sunny demeanour and ever–present smile… His cheerful laughter echoing through the air as he teases Giorgio…
"I won't wish," he finally said. "I can't."
"Are you sure?" The voice asked, a hint of sadness in its tone.
Giorgio shook his head. "I have too many wishes, and they aren't compatible with each other."
"I don't know which one I'd want more than everything else."
"Gi!"
Someone was shaking him firmly by the shoulder.
"Knock it off, I'm awake," he muttered, eyes slowly blinking open.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he found Evan staring at him in concern.
"Gi, are you crying?"
"What?" At that moment, Giorgio realised his face felt somewhat wet.
Flushing slightly, he hurriedly scrubbed a hand across his face.
"Of course not, don't be ridiculous," he replied irritably, giving Evan a pointed look that clearly said "drop it".
Looking somewhat unhappy, Evan nonetheless obliged and dropped the subject. "We're landing soon, better get ready."
Landing?
…Right, we're on a mission.
Quickly recalling the details of their latest assignment (headed to Spain, arms dealers, suspected ties to Wild Dog), Giorgio nodded, burying his lingering melancholy from the strange dream he couldn't quite remember and shifting into work mode, mask of professionalism firmly in place.
(Giorgio has always wished for too much.)
Evan
"–One wish," the voice said.
"Well…" Evan fell silent for a moment, mulling over the voice's offer.
"The only thing I'd want to wish for is happiness… But I'm already happy with my life. So…"
"I want my friends to be happy. Especially Giorgio."
"That's a rather big wish," the voice commented.
"Not if I work for it," Evan declared.
"I'll fight for everyone's happily ever after, no matter what it takes."
A sudden bump caused Evan to jerk awake, looking around in dazed confusion.
It took a moment for him to recognise that he was on a plane. On the heels of that thought was the realisation that he must have fallen asleep on the way back from a mission, only to be woken when the plane hit a patch of turbulence.
"You're finally awake," a familiar voice said.
Turning, Evan met Giorgio's somewhat annoyed gaze.
"Would you mind moving?" Giorgio asked. "My arm is growing numb."
It was then that Evan realised that he'd been leaning against Giorgio's shoulder as he slept.
"Whoops, sorry about that Gi!" Evan hurriedly pulled away from Giorgio, wondering how long he'd been sleeping in that position.
"Guess this is a bit of a role reversal, isn't it?" He joked. "After all, you're the one who's usually asleep while we're travelling anywhere."
"Believe me, I wanted to sleep, but it's a bit hard to get comfortable when someone's practically lying on top of you for the entire flight," Giorgio retorted, though there was a hint of amusement in his expression that told Evan he wasn't actually that irritated by it.
Truth be told, Evan was somewhat surprised that Giorgio had let him stay sleeping against him for so long.
"Ah, well… Thanks for that, Gi," Evan said with a laugh. "You're a surprisingly comfortable pillow."
His partner scoffed in response.
"Don't get used to it," Giorgio replied. "The next time you fall asleep on me, I'm shoving you right off."
"Whatever you say, Gi." Evan winked at him, settling back into his seat with a contented sigh.
Though Giorgio rolled his eyes, there was a small but unmistakable smile on his face as he shifted into a more comfortable position as well.
(Evan has always believed that happiness is never too big a thing to wish for.)