Disclaimer: The Gundam Wing universe does not belong to me, and I make no profit from writing about it.

Note: This is for Snowdragonct, for her birthday, with best wishes. Many thanks to Kaeru Shisho for editing.

Epilogue: Part 2/2:

+ 183 days

Wufei pauses by the kitchen window and laughs out loud.

The king of Sanque is kneeling beside an earthenware tub, fussing over the herbs in his new planter, with the neighbour's cat perched on the edge. Tiddles is half-Siamese and very vocal, and the two of them are having what seems like a very involved conversation, with Zechs chirping away in counterpoint.

It's adorable, and a wonderful thing to see him so relaxed. He feels gloriously relaxed himself, and he's very deliberately not thinking about the files Quat sent him that morning. Or the stacks of documents Zechs' P.A. delivered. It's Sunday, and a glorious September morning; impossible not to take a day off. Everything will get done somehow.

Zechs' phone is lying conveniently on the kitchen table, and he quickly flicks it to the camera setting, and leans out of the open window to take a photo. When it vibrates, signalling a new message, he opens it without even thinking.

When he finishes reading, a couple of minutes later - the text was sent by the head of the Palace press office - Wufei taps one finger against the 'phone, and then puts it in his pocket, frowning. He's thoughtful as he goes to the fridge and pours two glasses of iced tea, the reason he came in to the kitchen in the first place.

'I hope I'm not interrupting anything important,' he says as he walks outside, handing Zechs a glass and bending to scratch the cat behind the ears. 'The two of you seemed to be having a very serious discussion.'

Zechs smiles up at him, and Wufei's breath catches. It's still hard to believe sometimes, that this man, this king, is his.

Not that he looks terribly royal at the moment, with his hair (it's longer now) pulled back into a messy ponytail, and a fair amount of soil on his jeans, and staining his t-shirt.

Wufei sits down at their little table, and Zechs shifts over to lean against his knee, cat-like, legs sprawled in front of him. 'How are your baby plants coping with their new home?'

'They'll manage.' He settles one arm across Wufei's knee. 'I hope, anyway.'

'I'm sure they'll be fine.' He puts his glass down. 'Zechs, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, but I've just read a text from Marina.'

'She contacted you?' Zechs demanded, sounding outraged.

'Of course not!' Wufei gives the shining blond ponytail a little tug. 'You know perfectly well that no one on your staff would ever dare to call me, even if there was some kind of massive natural disaster. They're all far too terrified of you! I was using the camera on your phone, and the message came in, and I looked at it without even thinking.'

Zechs nods, looking just a little mollified. 'What does she want?'

'Something about an interview. In the 'Sanque Times', next month.' He slips one hand under the blond hair, and strokes the back of Zechs' neck. 'It might be something we could think about.'

'Absolutely not,' Zechs says, predictably enough. 'I told you, at the very start, that I'm not having you involved in any of that.'

'I am involved, though,' Wufei remarks. 'With you.'

Zechs drops his head. 'You don't know what it's like, 'Fei. To have these people digging into every part of your past, fabricating all sorts of nonsense to sell their ridiculous papers. I don't want you to have to go through any of that.'

'Nor do I,' Wufei says feelingly. 'But…I think that's the problem. If I – we – don't do some sort of interview, then it looks like we've got something to hide. It might be better just to get it over with, make some sort of gesture toward the media. It's a good paper; there'll be a list of pre-approved questions.'

'What questions?'

'Nothing too demanding.' He hands the 'phone over. 'Here. I think they're fairly standard.'

Zechs is still frowning as he looks at the screen. 'How did we meet? Well, I suppose everyone knows that by now.'

Wufei nods. 'While I was on your security staff. That's all right. And we don't have to say you thought I was possibly some sort of honey trap set by the head of Preventers.' He can laugh about it now.

Zechs doesn't laugh. 'I never thought that.'

'You must have wondered though, at the start.'

'Before I met you, possibly,' Zechs concedes grimly, and hands the 'phone back. 'Never after that.'

'Good.' Wufei bends down, and kisses him fiercely, and in the process somehow ends up sprawled in Zechs' lap, on the ground. (Not at all a bad place to be.) 'What's your favourite colour?'

'That's one of the questions?'

'No. I just realised I don't know.'

'Blue. And red. I like you in red.'

'What's the thing you most like about me? That is one of the questions, actually.'

'Hm.' Zechs considers, a teasing gleam in his eye. 'That rather depends on how explicit I'm allowed to be. How old is the average reader of this paper?'

'Too young for that sort of answer, probably. Actually, I'm probably too young!'

'Well, I'm not sharing anything that personal with half the universe,' Zechs says decidedly. 'Next question.'

Wufei scans down the list. 'Hmmm. Honestly, nothing too dramatic. Nothing about the war.' It's surprising, until he thinks about it. Zechs is beloved in Sanque; his people know how hard he's trying to atone for the things he did. They're not going to deliberately hurt him. 'A few questions about our first date; what we have in common, that sort of thing. And our future plans.'

'To love you for the rest of my life,' Zechs says promptly. 'But I'm certainly not sharing that with anyone else.'

'Absolutely not. You know, this is going to be an incredibly short, boring interview.'

'Then no one will ever want to speak to us again.' He hesitates for a moment. 'Since we are talking about the future, would you consider moving to a new house? Not immediately,' he adds quickly. 'I do love it here. It's been one of the happiest times of my life, sharing your home, but it is a little restricted, don't you think?'

'I know,' Wufei agrees. He loves his house, but it was never meant for two people, especially when one of them comes with a personal entourage. More space would be nice; he could take his books out of storage, and have his own study, perhaps. They could think about getting a pet. And they'd have a garden big enough for Zechs to have a vegetable patch and fruit trees, and to exercise in, and space for a small home gymnasium. At the moment, they have to go to the park to run, and there are endless security arrangements, and bodyguards trailing them.

'Somewhere a little out of the city, perhaps?' Zechs suggests.

'I'd like that, yes.' He says it a little absently, looking at the screen again. 'The question about future plans, you know what they really mean?'

'Oh, yes. And much as I'm sure it would be brilliant for their circulation rates if I proposed during an interview, I don't plan to do so.'

'I'm glad to hear it,' Wufei says dryly, but he's grinning.

Zechs gives him one of those long, steady looks. 'If we do this interview, together, it is a very definite statement that we are …official.'

'I know.' Wufei gazes back at him, unflinching; knowing exactly what he means, what it will mean for him especially. Zechs knows how to deal with the press; how to smile on request and field questions and give answers that are more evasions than anything.

Wufei doesn't know how to do any of that, and it terrifies him.

'Do you think you're ready for all that?'

'I don't think I'll ever be ready for all that,' Wufei says with perfect honesty. 'But it's never going to go away, is it? Or get easier? So I'll just have to deal with it.'

Zechs' expression softens suddenly. 'We'll deal with it, yes? Together.'

+ 274 days

'Are you awake, 'Fei?' The words come as a soft breath along the back of his neck, accompanied by the tickle of Zechs' hair, the press of his lips between his shoulder-blades.

'Hmm?'

He manages to stay silent, not to react to Zechs' mouth and the leisurely progress of his hands down his spine. It's lovely, of course, but he's still half-asleep and it has to be ridiculously early and they didn't get to bed until almost three and the bed itself is cloud-soft and sinfully comfortable and he probably shouldn't have drunk that second Brandy Alexander and then Zechs' hands stray even lower…

'Zechs!'

'Yes, treasure?' Another kiss, to the nape of his neck, and the pop of a bottle being opened, and then the leisurely drip of oil on his bare skin, and Zechs' hands stroking it onto him, into him.

Sunday morning sex, he thinks hazily, (It's Wednesday, actually) with the minute part of his brain that's still actually capable of rational thought; that isn't wholly focused on the slow, sweet glide of Zechs' body into his.

It had been hard and fast just a few hours ago, and lucky they'd made it to the bed at all. Dinner with the king and queen and president of Spain had gone on forever (the Spanish keep ridiculously late hours) and important policy decisions seem to be customarily made over drinks in the early hours of the morning.

This time, though, it's all about making it last; the sort of sex that can go on forever, the sort of sex he wants to last forever. Zechs's body flowing into his, and Zechs' hands coursing over his skin, and that deep voice loving him.

After, Zechs just curls around him, and he measures the time out in heartbeats, until Zechs kisses his bare shoulder and pulls slowly away. Wufei rolls over, watches him walk into the bathroom and, a minute later, hears the sound of the shower. He does think, for a moment, about following, but he's looked at the clock by then, and Zechs will have to leave soon, so he lies back down and snuggles into the cloud-soft nest of pillows.

They're not at home (they stay at the palace, now, sometimes; after late functions). Some chambermaid is going to have to clear up the stained sheets. He can't really bring himself to care; he would have, once.

Zechs comes back, dressed, and sits on the bed beside him, and Wufei tries not to notice that he glances at his watch, before he reaches out and smoothes Wufei's hair back from his forehead.

'I know. You have to go.' He closes his eyes anyway, savouring the feel of Zechs' hand, touching him.

'In a minute.'

He opens his eyes as Zechs' mouth brushes against his.

'So, what are you up to for the rest of the day?'

His mind is actually blank for a few seconds, scrambling for something that sounds even slightly constructive; something that might compare to the fact that Zechs will be spending the day at an ESUN conference on stopping child labour in the Colonies.

'I have a report for Quat,' he says finally, although actually it's finished (which Zechs knows) and he just needs to give it one final proof. 'I need to call him, about arrangements for Christmas. And I have that new list of houses that Gabrielle sent us yesterday. I might look over that again and see if I can go to view them this afternoon.'

'I forgot,' Zechs says regretfully. 'I don't think I'll be finished in time.'

'I know. It's all right.' He manages a smile, knowing it looks forced. 'If any of them look suitable, we can go together at the weekend.'

'I'd better go, love. I'll see you tonight.'

Wufei nods. He knows better, now, than to ask what time that might be.

'What is it?' Zechs raises one of his hands to his lips, sweeping his tongue across the palm.

'Nothing.'

'Tell me, treasure. Please.' The words are soft enough, but there's a compelling edge to them (and Wufei doesn't like to think, very often, about how much he likes it when Zechs talks to him like that) and Zechs nips one of his fingertips and then waits.

'Can't we talk about this tonight? You'll be late if you don't leave now.'

'Then I'll be late.' Zechs shifts to sit against the headboard, pulling Wufei into his arms. 'I know something's been bothering you, and this time you are going to tell me what's wrong, and every minute you try to put it off only means that all those poor innocent little children on the colonies have to spend more time being exploited by greedy corporations.'

He chokes on a laugh. 'That's not fair! I don't know. I just feel….rather useless right now.'

'Oh, love. You are the least useless person I have ever known in my life.' A kiss, pressed to the precise centre of his palm. 'You miss Preventers, don't you?'

'Not really. I miss having a definite job. Feeling I was doing something valuable.'

'You're very young, love,' Zechs says quietly. 'I know you're not quite sure what you want to do with your life, but you don't have to decide right away. There's nothing wrong with taking a little time to adjust to how much everything thing's changed.'

'I suppose. But it's been nine months now!'

Zechs chuckles and then bends down to kiss him; it's a very involved, intricate kiss and one that doesn't really remotely take into account that dozens of ESUN delegates are probably starting to wonder where he is. 'That's not very long, love, really. Not considering how much everything has changed. Just give it a little time, hmm? Whatever you decide, you know I'll support you as much as you let me.'

His smile, this time, is genuine. Even if nothing's really been solved, at least he's told Zechs, and that helps.

'You really have to go. Before the guards or one of your assistants decide to break this door down.'

'Demanding colonial,' Zechs grumbles; an old joke, but he does stand up. 'Don't worry about this too much, 'Fei, please. I'll see you tonight, and we can talk about things properly.'

Wufei watches him walk away, and then lies back down. Not so long ago, a whole day off was a rare and precious treat, eagerly anticipated. It's not quite the same when you have a whole string of them. He's never in his whole life had to fill time. He's not terribly good at it.

He's tried. He does projects for Quat, and he accompanies Zechs to a lot of functions and parties and official engagements and he's become quite practised at mingling and making small talk, and of course he reads a lot, and spends time with his friends when they're free, but there's still a lot of hours when Zechs isn't around where he spends far too much time just…waiting.

It's the exact opposite to when he'd been in Preventers, when he'd longed for more free time, to read and travel and exercise. He has it all now, and he's still not content.

Stupid, Wufei chides himself. Utterly stupid. He has Zechs, someone who adores him, and that should mean everything.

Anyway, he has plenty to do today. Work and house-hunting, and there are chores at home. Quat and Trowa will be flying in from Paris on Friday, and staying for the weekend, so that's taken care of.

And there's Christmas in just three weeks; all sorts of arrangements to be made for that. A gala ball on Christmas Eve, and then taking the helicopter up to the castle on Christmas morning. For the first time, it won't be just the two of them, but quite a house party. His friends, and Relena and Dorothy, and a couple of royal cousins and some more distant relations.

He's just a tiny bit ambivalent about all of it; obviously, it was wonderful of Zechs to suggest he might like to ask his friends to spend the holiday with them, and of course he'll love having them around, but … he's used to think of the castle being theirs, their private place.

Lots to do, he tells himself sternly, and then snuggles back under the blankets. A short nap won't hurt and then he can take a long bath (he has no desire, ever, to live here, but oh, he appreciates the gigantic bath tub) and ring for breakfast, and then actually go and do something.

He's just finished that thought, when there's a soft knock at his door. 'Mr. Chang?' The footman looks oddly uncomfortable. 'Excuse me, sir. You have visitors.'

'Oh, you needn't announce us,' a voice says airily from behind the door, and Quatre Winner steps into the room, with Duo trailing behind him, trying to look invisible. 'He knows who we are. Wufei, hello! Aren't you glad to see us?'

'Quat!' Wufei struggles to sit up, out of his nest of pillows, remembers he's naked and drags the blankets up to his chin. 'What are you doing here?'

Duo makes a face at Quat's back. 'You think this is bad? He swanned into Preventers and dragged me out of a meeting! Une nearly had a coronary.'

'That was fun,' Quatre purred.

'Well, I'm sure it was but….what are you doing here?' he repeats. 'I thought you were in Paris for two more days.'

'Oh, these things always drag on for far too long. It was boring,' Quatre says briskly and sits on the bed, looking around.

'Nice digs,' Duo comments. 'You're sure you don't want to move in here?'

'Of course, he doesn't,' Quat says firmly. 'It's a hideous room.'

'It's typical Sanque décor,' Wufei says a little defensively. He doesn't like it much – all the gilt and crystal and heavy, inlaid furniture – but it's Zechs' home. 'After the war, there was a committee to rebuild the staterooms exactly as they had been. There was an appeal for funds; all the people of Sanque contributed.'

'Well, the people of Sanque should have better taste. Now, you're not planning to loll about in bed all day, are you? I thought we could all go and have brunch somewhere. Or do you have plans?'

'No. Well, not exactly.'

Quat gives him a speculative look. 'Hmm. I thought not. Now, hurry up and get ready.; Duo's car is parked at the front door; we'll meet you in fifteen minutes. I've got a table booked for eleven o'clock and I don't want to miss our reservation.'

Half an hour later – Duo drives insanely fast and they don't have far to go anyway – the three of them are seated in a little French bistro near the harbour. It's all very pleasant; the maitre d' explains the day's specials and they make chit chat over a basket of warm garlic bread as they wait for their starters, but there's definitely something going on.

Duo is blathering on about nothing-in-particular, but never quite meeting his eyes and Quat has that face on; the expression that strikes dread into the heart of anyone who's ever met him.

He's somehow been press-ganged into one of Quatre Raberba Winner's plans.

'All right.' Wufei says finally. 'What exactly is going on with the two of you?'

Quatre actually has the gall to look slightly hurt. 'Honestly, Wufei. I don't know why you think anything is going on, as you put. Why can't your two best friends take you out for a nice meal?'

'Because I know the pair of you. Just tell me.'

Quatre sighs. 'I thought we could have our food first. But since you insist, these are for you.' Quatre produces a package from under his chair and dumps it on the table, where a pile of brightly-coloured university prospectuses spill out. 'Also, I'm firing you.'

'What are you talking about?' Wufei stares at him. 'You can't do that. I've done everything perfectly.'

'Of course you have. That's not the point. The point,' he elaborates, 'is that any moderately competent computer analyst could be doing it, and you're far too brilliant not to be doing something worthy of you.'

'I'm not exactly trained for very much.'

'Oho,' Duo says gleefully. 'Bet Zechsy disagrees with that.'

'Don't be silly, Duo. Wufei, if you're not trained for something you'd enjoy, then it's high time you were,' Quat says firmly. 'I know the last few months have been complicated and all the rest of it, and you needed some breathing space just to catch up, but you're in a rut right now, and I'm sure it's very comfortable, but you're bored stiff.'

'In a rut, right. Wouldn't mind being in a rut with Zechsy myself. ' Duo sniggers and they both glare at him until he subsides into his glass of soda.

'Would you like Heero to hear what you just said?' Quatre demands. 'No? Then, be quiet. We were talking about Wufei's problem.'

'I don't have a problem. Quat, I know you mean well, but I'm perfectly fine. I'm not bored!'

'Not when Zechs is around,' Quat clarifies.

'Yeah,' Duo chips in. 'Look, I know you guys are crazy about each other, but it's physically not possible to have sex 24/7, and seriously, me and Quat know that. I mean, it's not we haven't both tried. Heero's enhanced in every way you can imagine and then some, and Tro can, like, turn himself inside-out and do that thing with his..'

'Duo! Shut up!' Quat explodes, earning himself a reproving look from an elderly lady at the next table.

'I'm never telling you anything, ever again!' he mutters blushing, and Duo winks at Wufei who smiles back because it's a rare and rather charming thing, these days, to see Quatre Winner discomfited.

'We don't just…have sex,' Wufei says, blushing a little himself.

''Course you don't.' Duo leans over to pat his arm. 'But we get there's this whole whooshy honeymoon phase when nothing else in the universe matters and then it kind of wears off, just a little bit, and you realise the world's still out there, waiting for you.'

'Nicely put,' Quat approves. 'We're so happy that you've found someone, and if you were the sort of person who'd be happy just lazing around when you're not with him, then that would be fine. But you're not, 'Fei, and we all know that. You need some sort of focus in your life, something apart from Zechs.' His expression, looking at Wufei, is very gentle. 'You're allowed to have that, you know; to have something that's your own. And you always used to talk about going to university.'

'I have thought about it, but I don't really have time. I want to be able to travel when Zechs does; there's no way I'd be able to attend a full schedule of classes.'

'Then don't,' Quat tells him. 'From what I can see of my nephews and nieces, the majority of students at university don't bother attending most of their lectures anyway. Once you keep up with your assignments and coursework, that's the important thing. And I'm sure you can schedule tutorials around Zechs' trips.'

He picks one of the coloured brochures out of the pile; the photo on the front shows three young people sitting under a flowering cherry tree, with a litter of textbooks and folders around them. It looks wonderful. It had always been his dream, always unattainable. His family would never have permitted their only son, their heir, to attend university on Earth, and then there had been the war, and Preventers, and never enough time.

'Royal Sanque University,' Quat notes. 'Obviously, it's up to you, but I would recommend it. They have a highly regarded Arts programme; you could take a double major in Sanque Law and Poliyticial History, which Duo and I thought you'd find fascinating.'

'Quat.' It's an effort not to grab the brochure because if Quat and Duo chose the course, of course it will be perfect. 'Please. Just tell me you haven't already enrolled me in anything.'

'Of course not! I wouldn't do that!' Innocence personified, those big blue eyes wide and winsome. 'I may just possibly have checked admission dates and requirements.'

Duo laughs. 'Yeah, and the lecture schedules and the room locations. If you're not careful, he'll be taking the classes for you.'

Wufei carefully puts his hands under the table, not quite sure whether it's to stop himself grabbing for the pile of brochures on the table, or strangling his two closest friends. It's not, really, all that much of a surprise that they're doing this. They've both made comments before now, dropped hints. Damn.

Quatre smiles at him. 'We thought it was the most suitable course. After all, you are involved with the King of Sanque, and you're going to be helping to rule this country one day. You should know something about it, don't you think?'

'Don't say that! I'm not going to be ruling anything!'

His two closest friends look at him, expressions perfectly synchronised. They're laughing at him.

'Well!' Quatre states. 'I hope that doesn't mean that you're just…toying with the poor man's affections. I'd really expected better of you, Wufei. Does he know that you don't intend to accept his proposal, when the time comes?'

'Stop it,' Wufei says wildly, looking around. Gods, he does not want anyone overhearing this conversation. 'Of course I plan to stay with him for the rest of my life. That's one thing. But I'd just be his …..consort; I wouldn't have any power.'

Duo snickers. 'You don't really believe that, do you? What, you think you're gonna spend the rest of your life visiting hospitals and kissing babies and posing for the press at fancy parties? Dream on! That's not what he wants, and I know damn well it's not what you want either.'

'You will be superb,' Quatre says, very quietly, and Wufei blushes again.

He's been trying, so hard, to take it one step at a time, because of all of it, really, is a revelation.

'This is all very new for me,' he says finally, because they'll drag it out of him anyway. Boundaries and personal space and privacy don't form part of Quat's belief system (he claims it's because of growing up with all those sisters) and he clearly has Duo on his side. 'All of it. The … the relationship, and dealing with who Zechs is, and the whole royal thing. It's not easy. I just - I needed time to adjust, before I start thinking about…that. I still do.'

Quat looks at him, blue eyes soft and compassionate and fond; one of those moments which make his friends realise just why they've never actually killed him.

''Fei. I'm sure Trowa and I would have got together eventually, but we were being incredibly slow and stupid about it, and eventually some very kind friends gave us both a push in the right direction. As a result, we found each other much sooner than if we'd just been blundering around. Sometimes, when you want something, you have to just reach out and take it. It's what you did with Zechs, isn't it? That's all. You might like to think about that.'

He nods, and then reaches out to take the pile of brochures. He can browse through them, if nothing else; there are a dozen or so university prospectuses, with a slimmer brochure at the end, from an estate agent.

He hands it over to Quat; his friend had been talking about buying his own house in Sanque for a while. 'I think you gave me this by mistake.'

Quat wrinkles his nose. 'No, no mistake. I looked at the houses you forwarded to me. The ones that Zechs' assistant found for you. They're all horrible.'

'They're not that bad! They all meet the requirements Zechs and I specified.'

'That's no way to choose a house, giving a list of things to a person who doesn't even know you! You need somewhere that feels right, like home, somewhere you can imagine yourself living, and I couldn't see you living in any of them. Now, I know you very well, so I've found you the perfect place.' He hands Wufei the brochure. 'Now, are you going to tell me why exactly you've been putting this off for so long? You've been talking about buying a house for three months – and yes, I know there was Christmas, and then you were both in Australia for three weeks, but you've done nothing since you got back.'

'It's the financial thing,' a new voice observes calmly. 'Right, Wufei?'

It's Trowa. Not really a surprise; he and Quatre are rarely apart for that long.

'I left a note,' Quat says; quick, defensive. He's actually squirming under the weight of his partner's gaze. 'I told you where I was going.'

'It was rather obscure,' Trowa's mouth quirks. 'An interesting start to the day though; chasing you around Europe. Especially after we'd talked about not interfering.' He lets his eyes drift around the table to Wufei. 'Well. Do you want me to take him home and have him whipped?'

'No. He's been very helpful.'

Trowa grins. 'Don't think you're getting off that lightly, Quat. Wait 'til Rashid catches up with you. 'Fei, come away from those two lunatics for a minute. I need a bit of fresh air, and there's a terrace outside.'

'So?' Trowa leans on the railing beside him and Wufei turns his head just enough to grin at him.

It's easy with Trowa; it's always been easy with Trowa.

'This whole money thing,' he observes casually. 'You know, you're an idiot if you let that stand in the way of anything.'

'I can't help it.' Because he's still holding it, he glances down at the booklet in his hand. A large farmhouse, bathed in sunlight and surrounded by trees. It's perfect, naturally, and not anything he would ever have been able to afford. 'It just seems so … unequal, if I let him buy something like this.'

'You gave up your career for him. Your privacy. Any chance of a relationship that the media doesn't treat like some sort of soap opera.' Trowa's mouth quirks. 'Believe me, I know how it feels. That's inequality, 'Fei. Money's nothing compared to all of that. Let him give you a house, at least.'

Wufei pulls in a deep breath. 'You're right, yes.' This is it; this is the rest of life. Forever. Quat's right; he is allowed something for himself and, damnit, he's going to take it. An education. A house. A king. A place by his side, helping to rebuild a ruined country.

+ 363 days

It feels like coming home, Wufei thinks contentedly, jumping out of the helicopter after Zechs. It doesn't make a lot of sense – the castle is on the other side of the universe to the last place he really thought of as home, a place with family and people who loved him, where he'd grown up, and he's only been here five times – but it's true. Much as he loves their new house, (and he does) they haven't been living there for long enough to form any attachment to it.

The staff are assembled outside the castle to greet them, as always. Mrs. Thorwarldsen's gaze is suspiciously misty as she curtsies and the younger maids are starry eyed and staring. Oh, damn. The butler makes his usual short speech, welcoming them back and putting heavy emphasis on the how glad the staff are to see them again, and want to convey their very best wishes for a happy holiday. (The youngest chambermaid giggles at this)

Zechs' expression tightens even more, but he manages a polite, appropriate response before going inside.

Wufei stays a few minutes' longer, chatting to Mrs. Thorwaldsen, and letting everyone get a good look at his left hand. (A few faces fall when they see his ring finger is entirely unadorned but he's used to that now.) He tells the butler that yes, tea in the library would be perfect in an hour or so, and thinks it'll probably take that long for Zechs to work off steam.

He rather enjoys Zechs' rare explosions (even if they're directed at him) and this one isn't and it's been simmering for three days now so it's high time he let it out.

When he walks into their bedroom, Zechs slams the door behind him, with enough force to shake it off its hinges – if it hadn't been a massively thick slab of oak, set in a centuries' old castle that had been built to withstand sieges.

'We are not,' he snaps, 'getting engaged because of some stupid tabloid journalist.'

'Of course not,' Wufei agrees mildly. He's a lot less worked up about this whole thing. The only way, really, to put up with the media presence in their lives is to treat it as the absurd nonsense it is. Do people honestly have nothing better to do than obsess over the private lives of perfect strangers?

It's all a total farce. A week ago, a silly, low-budget German tabloid printed an article on the two of them; on Wufei particularly, accompanied by a dozen or so photographs of him taken over the past couple of months. In all of them, his left hand is in his pocket, or behind his pack, or simply not in the frame, but the accompanying text hinted obliquely at reasons why he might possibly be keeping his ring finger out of sight and, inevitably, the story was picked up by the major networks and went viral over the internet.

Zechs walks over to the window and leans out. 'You're being awfully calm about all of this.'

'Is there any point getting so worked up? We can't actually do anything.'

That's true; it's not like Zechs hasn't tried, but the original article was all innuendo and evasions, so it's impossible to sue, and they can't really sue every media outlet in the universe. 'Anyway, I don't read most of that rubbish.'

'I prefer knowing what people are saying about me.' Zechs turns around, looking lost and miserable, and Wufei shoots across the room into his arms, wishing for Nataku back, and all the world's media employees in his sights.

The really ridiculous thing is that he doesn't particularly care on his own account; he doesn't read any of that nonsense (although Duo tells him some of the choicer speculation) but he hates the effect it has on Zechs, and Zechs is mostly upset that it's going to upset Wufei.

'You know,' he says quietly, snuggling as close as possible, 'they could be saying an awful lot worse about us than that we're in love and secretly engaged.'

'I suppose,' Zechs mutters reluctantly, dropping a kiss on his forehead, and then kissing him properly.

'They could,' Wufei persists. 'Do you think we can just forget about all that while we're here, and just enjoy the holiday? Please?'

It's not just a holiday; it's their anniversary, almost, and they've got seven days all to themselves. Wufei's left his course-books and a half-finished assignment at home, and Zechs is only to be contacted in the event of a national emergency.

'Of course we can.' Zechs smiles at him. 'You're absolutely right. As always. Would you like to go for a walk before it gets dark? I feel I've been cooped up all day.'

Twenty minutes later, they're strolling around the lake, with swallows swooping around them. It's perfect.

'So quiet, this time,' Zechs remarks, and Wufei laughs.

They haven't been back since Christmas – too much going on with buying the house, and Wufei starting his university course, and various official engagements – and they'd had a houseful of guests. It had been lovely, of course, having all his friends to stay in his favourite place, and they'd loved it, but he likes it better like this.

Just the two of them.

'Happy?' Zechs tangles their fingers together,

'Oh, yes. You can't imagine how much.'

'Hmm. I can, possibly.'

'Even without being secretly engaged to me?' Wufei teases because, honestly, they need to start laughing about this whole farce.

'Don't you start.' Zechs squeezes his hand. 'Or you might find yourself taking an unexpected swim and I imagine the water is very cold, this early in the year. You know you're about the only person who hasn't been talking about engagements, secret or otherwise. Even Duo and Quatre cornered me at our housewarming party and started dropping very heavy hints about how I need to make an honest man of you. Threats, almost, some of them.'

'Well, my friends are insane,' Wufei says matter-of-factly. 'You know that. And Duo just wants a big party. It's far worse for me; I have the entire universe trying to see whether or not I'm wearing a ring.'

'Would you? Zechs asks suddenly. 'Want to wear a ring? Hypothetically?'

'Not really. It was never a part of L5 culture; not even for women. Do you mind? You weren't planning on giving me some huge diamond?'

Zechs shakes his head. 'Oh, it would have been a ruby. Far more suitable for your colouring. But no, I don't mind in the least. It will save the royal treasury a large amount of money.'

'Oh, that's just delightful. Always thinking of the money.' Wufei leans closer and Zechs lets his hand drop, in favour of sliding an arm around his waist.

'Practical, treasure. You know, I've always liked the thought of winter weddings.

His heart quickens, just a little, and then he smiles. 'Sleigh bells?'

Zechs looks positively charmed. 'You remembered.'

'Of course I did.' It had been a conversation they'd had over Christmas, late one night, over hot chocolate with run and mince pies, when the others were all in bed. Zechs telling him about his memories of Christmas as a child, when the royal family had gone to church in a horse-drawn sleigh, bells jangling. 'I'd like that. You know. Hypothetically. One day.'

'One day,' Zechs echoes softly, and then stops, pulling Wufei into a close hug. 'Yes?'

'Yes. Very much so.'

It should feel – different, surely. Momentous. It's a proposal, life-changing. Except his life already changed, almost twelve months ago. Earlier, if he thinks about it, when he first saw Zechs, and this just feels natural and inevitable.

They just smile at each other after that.

'It's going to be insane,' Wufei says finally, shaking his head at the thought of it.

'It's too late now.' Zechs informs him, quite revoltingly smug. 'You've said yes. I could sue you for breach of promise if you tried to back out.'

'I suppose I'm stuck then.'

'Poor you.' Zechs' hands settle on either side of his face, smoothing wind-blown strands of hair behind his ears, and there is nothing in his face but pure, unclouded joy. 'Ridiculously forward colonial, going around knocking on innocent people's doors in the middle of the night. Of course there were going to be consequences. Didn't you think of that?'

'I wasn't thinking. You know that. It was about time I did something without thinking about it.'

Zechs folds him closer. 'I am so very glad you did. I am going to adore and cherish and treasure you for the rest of our lives, Chang Wufei. Always.'

'Oh, yes,' Wufei breathes. 'Always.'