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From the Hero Universe, a few years down the road.

Joyeux Noel

xxx

My life is good, don't get me wrong, but this time of year there's always something leaving me feeling unsettled and nervous. Like I should be ready for anything. It's vague feeling of foreboding; a sort of karmic itch hinting that Bad Things are looming on the not nearly distant enough horizon. That something terrible is about to happen.

Oh yeah. My birthday.

Before you start thinking I have some sort of weird issues with aging or mortality, let me tell you I'm not that vain. Even though I have a lot to be vain about. When you've done it all in your teens and have it all in your twenties, old age is just something to look forward to. Truth be told, I'm counting the damn days until Squall retires.

No, the problem is much closer to home. I was born right at Yule, give or take a day for celestial calibrations. This puts the date in winter, so historically the weather sucks ass, plus there is always a lot of extra hype and pressure. And if Selphie is involved, also glitter and curly ribbon. For reasons I never quite grasped, Squall likes to celebrate my birthday. He likes to plan big holiday get togethers with friends and family or intimate get aways with just us.

Either way, it's always a disaster.

It's not his planning skills, logistics is actually one of Squall's specialties. The man can move armies, overnight, silently even, with no problems. He organized a huge parade and circus for his father's fiftieth birthday, it went without a single hitch. It's only my birthday that always goes to shit.

How bad can it be, you ask? Shall I tell you about the year of the flood? Or the ice storm and blackout? The year we went on a skiing vacation and I broke my ankle or the one where we stayed home and everyone got the chicabo pox? The time we spent mediating Fuu and Rai's big breakup and tearful reconciliation or the year Squall and I had The Big Fight? Or the all time suckiest year where Squall was MIA and we didn't find him until March?

Any normal person would have given up by this point: sworn off annual celebrations, switched religions, hells, changed his name and made up a new birthday. I would have given it a shot if I thought I could get away with it, but you see, I am involved with Squall Leonhart, the most stubborn bastard on Hyne's world. Possibly on any world.

So, yes, I greet December with a sense of dread, bracing for the inevitable.

This year, I thought I was going to skate. It was two days before B-day and Squall hadn't said a word. No phone calls demanding our presence in Trabia, Galbadia, or Balamb. No invites to drop by the Palace for a 17 course supper and drinks with 70 or 80 scions of Estharian society. No snowboard, skiis, or, Hyne help me, dirt bikes in evidence. No mysterious boxes in the apartment or train tickets charged to our account.

Result being, I was actually looking forward to Yule, for once. I had most of the week off; I was in that golden position of being important enough to rate vacation time and not vital enough to have it interrupted by being summoned back to the hospital for emergencies. I was thinking about kicking off my vacation by coaxing Squall out for dinner and some dancing and I left him a voice mail to that effect.

I had a few easy consultations scheduled for the morning, then a quick clinic on using curative magic to help bones set. Since most people can't junction a GF and thus do paramagic, there is a huge resistance to using magical healings. Drives me insane; any idiot can uncork a damn potion and splash it on but they act like I'm asking them to chant mystic phrases while sacrificing a snake and painting the patient in its blood.

Everyone knows that only works for childbirth.

The clinic turned out to be more hands on than anticipated; some kids got around the usual security at a construction site and one of them fell on some rebar. I scrubbed up and remembered just in time to send a candy striper to call Squall and tell him I'd be late. He's gotten used to it, but I get less huffing and eye rolling if I warn him. Also, I like to keep my own bitching privileges open for when he's overdue.

Surgery was tricky. Rebar is more or less threaded, so the kid had this huge chunk of metal more or less screwed right into her. There is no happy place for this to happen, but this one was way too close to her spine for anyone but old magic hands Almasy. I trickled in magic and worked that bastard out. We all cheered when it came free, trying to overlook the shreds of various internal organs still stuck to the thing. I cast one last Regen and let the resident close. I was ready to call it a night, but I had to stop by the waiting room, first.

It wasn't hard to figure out who the family members were - they were sitting, huddled and white knuckled, in those Hyneawful plastic butt buckets hospitals can't seem to function without. There was one other figure, cool and dark, idly watching the game on the muted television, but I'd get to him later.

I pulled off my mask so they could see my grin, and the mother burst into tears and grabbed my hand. I talked to the father while I tried to free myself. "Deanie is going to be fine. We need to keep her here so we can watch for infection and do some pain management, but overall, she's a trooper and she'll have the best 'what I did on my vacation' report in the entire class."

The father grinned back and helped peel mom off me while the rest of the family bounced around. The admitting nurse came and took over, hammering out details of wards and bed numbers and visiting hours and insurance. I escaped over to Mr Cool, who smiled at me.

"Give me 15 minutes to shower and change clothes - we can still grab a late dinner, at least."

Squall handed me an overnight bag. "Don't put your suit on, we'll be traveling and you may as well be comfortable."

Oh, no. Putting on my happy face, I asked, "Are we taking the train? The Rag?" I grinned. "My car?"

Squall winced. I have a perfectly serviceable car: it stops, goes, and turns on command and it fits me and my medikit very comfortably. It would fit a passenger, too, but getting Squall to ride in my car would require a Stop, a roll of duct tape, and rather more bitching and moaning than I'm willing to endure.

"Will your car be ok if you leave it here a couple of days? ...It would be if you'd let me install a decent security system."

"Squall. No one is going to mess with my piece of shit little car. And that security system you showed me costs more than the car did."

He nodded. "True, I can't imagine why anyone would steal the damn thing in the first place - and if it were vandalized, would you be able to tell?"

I swatted him before heading back to the locker room. "I take it that means we'll be in the Elvoret. I'm all a quiver."

"You are the one who insisted I give up the Toramas. I don't see why you won't drive the El, it's more suitable." Squall followed me into the locker room and packed my suit while I undressed.

"I'm a surgeon, not an International Man of Mystery. No one gives a shit about my wheels, just my hands."

Squall leaned against the wall and watched me shower, his eyes glinting silver. "I like your hands, too." He flashed me his International Man of Mystery smile.

I was entertaining some wicked thoughts, myself, but the last time we messed around in the shower here at the hospital Old Doc Baker walked in on us and nearly had an aneurysm. I sighed and turned the water temp down and managed to ask casually, "So, where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

I was afraid of that. It's always a surprise, just not a good one. "At least feed me; I need a good steak dinner to buck me up before we end up in the middle of moogle mating season or whatever fun thing Fate has planned this time."

"I can't decide if that image is erotic or disturbing." Squall threw me a towel.

"What's disturbing is you even considering it to be erotic."

"Oh, I don't know. All that animal passion, the driving need... the little red deelie bobbers..."

I threw the wet towel back at him. "You have got to stop reading Selphie's porn."

xxx

We were too late for any restaurant except for the ones that served mainly grease and coffee. You know the kind I mean, the ones with the Motto "Fuck you, at least we're open". I never checked, but I'd stack gil against donuts the cook had a cigarette hanging off his lip and scratched his ass with the spatula - they hire that sort special. The kind of guy with so much back hair he has epaulets of fuzz sticking out from his wife beaters.

Squall and I exchanged looks and he changed course for a fast food joint. I always maintain, if we are going to eat crap, it should at least be professionally done. Anyway, it's a rush to take an Elvoret through the drive through at Clown Burgers. Squall did have to shout a little at the plastic clown to be heard over the rumble of the engine, but he's used to it.

I don't think Squall ever took to the El like he did the Toramas. A Torrie is made for speed, not for comfort - light, tricky to handle, and, when Squall really opened her up, faster than a chocobo. We'd fly down the road like a guided missile and I'd feel every bump in my back and ass for days. Not to mention the cramps from clinging to edges of the seat in fear.

The Elvoret is a rich man's toy - high performance, high maintenance, made for power and looks and above all, comfort. We stalked down the freeway like a panther on the prowl, an easy mile eating speed that you barely noticed because it was so damn pleasant a ride. Naturally, Squall felt the car didn't allow enough interaction and control from the driver, because he wasn't required to maintain total focus to keep us from spinning out into a smear of metal and fluids. I don't think he actually liked having time to do things such as hold a conversation and notice the scenery.

I don't bond with vehicles quite the same way Squall does, but I was damn fond of the El. I suspect Squall actually bought the car for me, but it is way too fancy to park at the community hospital for more than a few hours at a time. And certainly not in my junior surgeon spot. Squall, of course, had only the vaguest concept of traffic laws and tended to park where ever he wanted -it's good to be the Prince. Point being, the El was only ok as long as Squall was close enough by to keep it from being towed away. My little piece of shit car was much safer to leave unattended for extended periods, despite Squall's much praised security system. Besides, the Elvoret is always in the hynebedamned shop getting something or the other tuned to Squall's specifications.

I tucked the remains of our Three Ring Specials into the trash bag by my feet and leaned my heated leather seat back a bit, at peace with the world. I could even stretch my legs. "I see we are headed south."

Since I was trapped in the car with him and thus theoretically could not run off screaming into the night, Squall deigned to tell me the plan. "Laguna has a villa on the south coast, we are going to meet up with Sis and him."

"They have had all their shots? You've checked for bombs, typhoons, Moombas?"

Squall smiled. "No promises about Moomba, you know they love Laguna."

"At least we can put them to work building an escape craft when the Tidal Wave hits."

"Don't be superstitious. You know Yule hasn't been a disaster every year.'

I thought about it. "Well, I enjoyed the year Ma Dincht got heavy handed with the bourbon balls and you threw up red and green candies all over the Queen of Cards." I think Squall was twelve at the time.

He swatted at me and I laughed.

It was nice, just the two of us and our cell phones, which rang every time I started to doze off. Friends confirming itineraries or sending Yuletide wishes, business once for Squall and four times for me, and one tearful call from Selphie and Irvine's oldest, Trabian. I passed that one right to Squall, who listened and answered in his best "mission" voice. He shook his head, smiling, once they hung up.

"SeeD has been hired to make sure the Yule King isn't attacked on the way to Galbadia. It seems Tray saw part of some horror movie that had a monster eating a chicabo and he's having nightmares about them getting the Yule King's magical mini ones."

"Selphie's solution was to call the Commander of SeeD?" I laughed. "Do you ever wonder what that kid's teachers think of him?"

"It seems Irvine refused to spend Yule Eve on the roof with a sniper rifle. Again."

"Clearly, hiring a mercenary is the logical solution. If you can afford it. Do you run a Yuletide Special?"

"I hate getting paid in jelly beans," Squall sighed.

xxx

We drove until the wee hours of the morning, when I finally convinced Squall the world would not end if we spent the night in a hotel and got to the villa a tad late. He pulled over at a nice place in one of those artistic touristy villages along the coast. It was noticeably warmer than Esthar already, and I happily shed my jacket while he went in to deal with the desk clerk.

Squall and I grew up in seaside villages, and there is just something about the sound of the surf that makes all the little ticks of tension relax inside me. The ones I didn't realize I had until they were gone. I leaned against the El and daydreamed about talking Squall into some morning sex, followed by a leisurely breakfast and maybe a short trip to the beach before we took off for Certain Yuletide Disaster.

Or maybe it was more than a daydream, I woke up with Squall huffing irritably at me.

"Hey, it's late," I said defensively, straightening up. It's not like I was sleeping on watch or anything, Hyne.

"Not you." He glanced at the car. "Or maybe some you. You didn't set the security?"

"No, because, you see, I figured I'd notice if someone tried to steal it, since I was standing right here." Also, I can't figure the damn thing out and always end up getting the horn stuck or something equally difficult to explain away.

"Sleeping. I suppose when you landed on your ass after your support drove away-"

"Oh, we are pissy. What happened, the clerk hit on you?" A more depressing thought occurred. "Or no room at the Inn?"

Squall rolled his eyes and popped the trunk, muttering at our suitcases. I caught something about ID and pathetic rural security relays.

"She didn't know who you were?" I cracked up.

Squall handed me my medikit with more force than strictly necessary. "She thought I was too young."

That's a sore point with Squall; he's in his late twenties but if he slacks his jaw a bit and dresses the part, he can pass for a teenager. An advantage in his line of work, but it still offends him when he gets carded. It's hereditary, I was in a bar in Timber with Squall's dad and they carded him, too. Of course, Laguna loved it.

"So what's the deal? You have ID." I leaned in to heft a suitcase, but Squall shook his head.

"Leave the rest, they are safer in the car. The El's security system is better than anything this tourist trap has."

He was right, so I just snagged my overnight bag. Certain phrases were coming together and gelling in my mind. "Their authentication system is down," I hazarded.

"Or she was too stupid to operate it. She kept my credit card, for security."

"If the system is down, it's not like she can charge a new wardrobe on it." And Squall's so rich, he wouldn't notice if she did.

"That's not the point." Squall set the security system, then stopped in front of me, under the faint glow of a semi authentic olde tyme street light. "Do I look untrustworthy?"

I tried to see Squall through a stranger's eyes - the lethal catlike grace, the barely contained strength, the glow of hyperjunction and the faint aura of magic. He still had that pale rosebud skin, the too long, too messy, too sexy hair like chocolate silk, the large grey blue eyes and faint diagonal scar. He was dressed all in black, of course, perfectly tailored slacks, expensive boots, leather military style jacket he hadn't bothered to remove, since with Shiva, Squall is never too hot.

Temperature wise, at least.

"I'd say... 'mad, bad, and dangerous to know.'"

He huffed. "Come on, Caroline, our bungalow is this way."

xxx

Squall and I both tend to wake up around dawn, which played very nicely into my plans for the morning. In the light of day, we discovered our little corner of paradise was decorated entirely in shades of seashell pink and tan, complete with the obligatory sand dollars and star fish under glass and shell bedecked picture frames. The bed was great, though, so we hid in there, making love, until the maid knocked on the door.

"We should get up, check out early, and hit the road," Squall said with a sigh, after I'd talked the maid into giving us half an hour.

"We should clean up and check out the beach," I counter offered. "Then come back, shower the salt off, and then head out. Why get to the villa before Sis and Laguna?"

"I don't like leaving our things in the room for strangers to go through."

Sure, he hangs out at the Palace with a staff in the hundreds, but doesn't trust some little old lady in a tiny tourist town? On the other hand, Squall being Squall, he probably investigated all the Palace staff. What am I thinking? Of course he did.

"We can dump it all back in the El."

He approved of that plan, and soon we were out on the sandy board walk, dressed in swim trunks and flip flops, heading for the beach. The sun was baking down, and you could tell it was going to be one of those days where the water was like glass - perfect. I paused by one of the little shops and handed Squall my medikit.

"Here, hold this, I want to grab some things."

"Why didn't you put this in the car?"

"Squall, I'm a doctor. I don't go anywhere without my black bag, not even the beach."

"Seifer, someone is going to steal it."

"They'd have to get it away from you, wouldn't they? Now hang on, we need new shades and you need a hat and a gallon of sunblock."

"You brought your wallet, too? What are you going to do, swim with it?" He followed me into the shop.

"I need it so I can buy things. Did you put everything you brought in the car? Even your clothes?"

Squall nodded and I sighed. "Squall, do you even see anyone around to steal anything?"

He frowned. "Where is everyone?"

The shop clerk answered that one, since we were far enough inside. "All went up to Esthar for the big Yule Parade and Festival. Folk want snow and all for Yule, not sunny beaches."

I shopped, trying some sunglasses on Squall, and picking out a good sunblock that he wasn't allergic to. "I noticed about half the town is closed, your off season, then? So, where can we eat?"

The clerk leaned on the counter, happy to have someone to talk to. And to over charge, Hyne! I nearly got a nose bleed from the prices. "You can get funnel cake, corn dogs, lemonade at the Driftwood Shack on the beach. Del only takes Esharian cash, though. For real food, you'll want the Tidal Pool, it's run by Tide's Inn."

I winced at the pun and plopped a bucket hat on Squall that had little shark fins jutting up from the brim like they were circling his head. "Is that where we're staying?"

"Must be, it's the only place in town."

I thanked the guy and paid him, informing Squall on the way out, "One problem solved, that adventure didn't leave me much to steal."

"I'm not paying you back for this hat." He was wearing it with same suffering expression you see on cats dressed in doll's clothes.

"Cheapskate," I said cheerfully. "See if I spend my last gil on corn dogs for you."

The beach was small, but the sand was smooth and clean and eyedazzling white. Blue green water licked up languidly, leaving foam and the occasional disgruntled sea creature. I spread our towels and coated Squall with sunblock while he attempted to hide my wallet and kit under his hat and tee shirt. Neither of us had much success.

"You got Encounter None?"

"Seifer, it doesn't work on thieves."

"There are no thieves. But there might be monsters and I'm not in the mood. C'mon, I'll let you take it off and hunt Behemoths to your heart's content while I nap later."

He rolled his eyes. "I'll protect you from the monsters."

That required me to chase Squall down the beach and threaten him with a small crab. In typical mercenary fashion, he retaliated by throwing a wad of slimy seaweed at me and the fight was on. I tackled him into the shallow, warm water and we wrestled a bit before we figured out something better to do. Fortunately for us, the crab was a gentleman and swam away to give us a little privacy.

We spent a couple hours playing like kids and basking in the sun. Squall always maneuvered himself so he was facing our 'camp', so he could keep an eye on my things. Not even a seagull bothered them.

I bought us both a frozen lemonade, informing Squall, "The only thieves in this town are employed by the shops. Enjoy this drink, it cost more than my clothes."

"Flip flops and jams?"

"No, the suit I had on last night." I flopped on the towel and spread out. "Hyne, was it just last night? I hate to jinx things, but so far, this vacation has been awesome."

Squall smiled at me, and leaned over to give me a kiss. "You deserve a break. But we should go, it's close to check out time."

"Yeah," I sighed. "And your nose is red. Put the hynebedamned shark hat on."

We gathered our gear and ambled back up towards our tittypink bungalow at the Tide's Inn. I was slightly bummed, I like Laguna and Sis just fine, but I rarely get Squall all to myself. I was so busy thinking over the day, and regretting the lack of camera, that I walked right into Squall's back, nearly pouring the remains of my lemonade all over him. "What the-?"

Tightly, Squall snapped, "The El is gone."

xxx

Squall can flip into Commander Mode even dressed in swim shorts, one of my old tee shirts, and a shark hat, but I felt the need to at least get the sand off my back before I tried to be imposing. I left him to deal - by telephone - with what passed for local law enforcement while I went to clean up. Our room was still our room, after all - we hadn't checked out and they still had Squall's credit card to charge things to. Good thing, since that and the 15 or so gil in my wallet was all the money we had.

I was toweling my hair when Squall burst in. "You didn't lock the door."

"They don't steal from the rooms, just the parking lots."

He sagged and I felt like a heel. He was taking the loss of the Elvoret personally; I think Squall actually trusted his damn security system, whereas I, having no faith whatsoever in anything electronic, never did. I came over and draped an arm around his shoulders.

"They can track it by the security system, right? And it's insured, anyway. They didn't get anything we can't replace or fix with a few phone calls."

"I don't give a shit about the car, Seifer, it's the locals. Sheriff is out of town for the holidays, the car rental place is closed until Monday, there's no train service..."

I stopped him. "Wait. You are telling me we are basically stuck here until Monday?"

Miserable, Squall nodded.

"With no choice but to stay here at the hotel and order room service?"

"They are the only ones who take my credit card..."

I grinned at him. "With no one we know? With no cell phones?" My grin widened. "And with no clothes?"

Squall looked down and blushed, realizing for the first time all we had to wear were swim suits and one tee shirt. "Seifer, I..."

I pounced, pushing him down on the bed. "Best. Birthday. Ever." And I kissed him until he started to smile, and then, I kissed him some more.