Zechs waited for the sound of the hatch closing to echo through the metal skin of the jet, before pulling off his helmet again and throwing the switch on his engines. He steered the craft out of the hangar and onto the smooth dark strip of the runway, flicking buttons to run through a cursory pre-flight check – though he could probably handle this plane with almost all of its instruments out and its electrics dead, even he would struggle to land a plane without working flaps or air-brakes.

As he settled the light jet at the end of the landing strip, his cockpit door opened and Treize came though it.

"Everything alright?" the general asked.

"Yes, sir. Would you sit down and fasten yourself in, please?"

His attention was on his instruments, but he looked up in surprise when Treize dropped into the co-pilot's chair and closed the seat restraints around his waist.

"Sir? Wouldn't you prefer to be in the cabin…?"

"Certainly not. You need a co-pilot."

Zechs doubted that. "Maybe sir," he answered, trying to be tactful. "But…you, sir?"

Treize raised an eyebrow. "Yes, me. I am a pilot, Zechs. Even if I'm not quite in your class."

Zechs glanced down. "Yes, sir."

Treize chuckled. "Oh, come on! How often do you think I get the chance to actually fly anymore?"

The blond bit his lip. "That was… the point I was trying to make, sir. Just how long has it been?"

"I'm not going to crash!"

For the second time in twenty minutes, Zechs did something to surprise the older man – he laughed. "That's good, sir. Because I might – I've never flown this model of plane before."

The general stared at him in disbelief for a moment, and then sat back, folding his arms. "I trust you," he murmured.

Zechs smiled, somehow knowing Treize meant more than his piloting skills. "Thank you, sir. Hold on."

Strong fingers played over the buttons on the panel in front of them, and then closed over the throttle. Zechs felt the plane gather itself, building power shuddering under his hands as the pitch of the engines rose steadily.

"Zechs…" Treize murmured. "This isn't an Aries…"

"I know that… breathe out, sir."

Treize found himself obeying without thinking, and then he was flung backwards and pinned to the padding of his chair as the pilot took his foot off the brake and threw the throttle open. The light jet leapt forward, tearing along the length of the runway.

Zechs fixed his eyes on his airspeed indicator, holding the nose down until it was where he wanted it. Then he let go and the craft streaked into the sky, climbing rapidly.

Treize swallowed hard to keep from crying out in shock. He knew now why the younger man had told him to breathe out – if he hadn't the pressure of their explosive acceleration and the G-forces created by the steep climb would have winded him.

Zechs flung the plane into a sharp turn, banking hard as he turned back on himself, levelling their flight path. He reached out with one hand to raise his landing gear, looking up in shock when his hand brushed against Treize's as the older man flicked the switch for him.

"I am a pilot, Zechs," the general repeated. "Even though I'm definitely not in your class. What was that about?"

Zechs smiled. "Merely taking precautions, sir. We had no way to know whether the airspace was friendly – a plane is never more vulnerable than at take-off and landing." The smile became a smirk. "And, you did say you hadn't seen me fly for a time…"

"Are you showing off for me, Zechs?"

"Do you want me to?"

Treize raised an eyebrow; Zechs's words might be innocent, but his tone definitely wasn't – there had been a world of implication in his question. Slowly, the older man smiled, relaxing into the soft support of his chair and allowing the flare of heat to wash though him and create a delightful tension in his body. "I might," he replied.

Zechs turned his head and began to smile in return, but before the expression could fully form, he tensed and looked back to his controls. "I can't, sir. I don't want to draw attention to the plane." He paused. "Do we have a destination, sir?"

Treize shook his head. "North. Zechs… there's no one out here for you to draw attention from."

"We don't know that, sir. Something triggered that emergency."

"Yes – Lady Une."

Clear, pale eyes locked with his own as Zechs's head snapped round. "I beg your pardon?"

"Lady Une tripped the alarms – at my orders. There's no emergency."

There was a shadow in the blonde's eyes. "I'm sure you had a reason."

"Of course I did." Treize freed his seatbelt, reaching down the side of the chair for the folder he had brought on board and stored there before take off. He offered it to the younger man. "Happy birthday," he murmured.

"What?"

"Happy birthday," the general repeated. "I called a drill of the emergency procedures. Only Une and Noin knew what was going to happen."

"Why?"

Treize smiled gently. "I needed a way to get you off-base and into a plane." He frowned at the expression on his friend's face. "You didn't really think you could leave me to plan your birthday and expect me to come up with nothing more than a trip to the local drinking establishments, did you?"

"Clearly not."

The general prodded the folder further in his direction. "Don't you want to know where we're going?"

"Could you just tell me the course setting, sir? I'm a little busy flying the plane at the moment."

Treize nodded sagely. "Ah, of course." He got to his feet and opened the hatch to the cabin. "Noin, could you come up here, please?"

Zechs's head whipped round. "Noin?"

"Hello, Zechs!" The artificial lights brought out the vivid highlights to her purple hair as she all-but bounced into the room; like the two men she was out of uniform – and Zechs realised that Une had been as well.

"Did we fool you?" Noin continued, leaning on the back of his chair. "From the way we took off, I'd say we did. Une looked positively green!"

Treize smiled at her, cutting in before it became obvious that Zechs wasn't going to reply. "Could you take the plane for a time, please, Noin?"

"Of course, sir." She tapped Zechs on the shoulder, "Move, then!"

Stiffly, Zechs slid out of the pilot's chair and let the young woman take his place.

"In there," Treize told him, pointing at the hatch. The blond obeyed, disappearing into the cabin as the general paused in the doorway. "I'll send Une up to act as co-pilot."

"Thank you, sir. And… good luck. He didn't look happy."

Treize sighed. "No, he didn't – and, with 20:20 hindsight, it becomes clear that I should have known he wouldn't. Never mind – I'm sure I can talk him round."

Violet eyes sparkled. "I'm sure you can, sir."

"Zechs – do you plan to stare out of the window for the entire length of this flight, or are you going to talk to me and look at your present?"

Slowly, the younger man turned from studying his own reflection in the window and sat down in the chair next to his commanding officer. Treize handed him the folder, watching as he opened it and looked through the contents, the stiffness and the anger beginning to ebb away as he read the various bits of information.

Eventually, the pilot looked up. "Why?"

Treize shrugged. "Why not? I thought you might like it."

"I do, but…"

"But what? We have the time off due – all four of us. I can certainly afford it – what's your objection?"

"Won't you get in trouble for calling that drill just to get me on a plane?"

"Of course not – I'm entirely within my rights to throw my troops surprise drills whenever I feel like it. Kai-Huang can handle running the base for a few days, and I'm hardly out of contact should I really be needed." He leaned forward, smiling. "I wanted to, Milliardo. I wanted to please you and… I thought this might be a more fitting location for… other things than on-base. We won't be disturbed here."

Zechs felt himself smile and colour at the same time. "Maybe." The smile faded. "I just wish you'd found a different way to get me on the plane – I think you've shocked five years off my life."

Treize frowned. "I noticed, and I wouldn't have said 'shocked'. What was that about – you've certainly heard the emergency alarms before?"

The younger man dropped his gaze. "Just… memories."

"I owe you an apology, then. I hadn't intended to…"

"I know that, Treize, and it isn't really your fault. Merely not the best of timing."

Treize offered him a rueful smile, apologising again with his eyes. "Forgive me for saying this," he said after a minute or two had passed in silence, "but you don't normally seem so shaken."

"Say, rather, I normally manage a better job of pretending not to be," Zechs replied, then gestured with his hands. "In truth, if you must hold anyone responsible, make it Noin – though she couldn't have known what effect she would achieve. That was a conversation I could gladly have lived my whole life without having, and… I haven't been sleeping well since."

Treize nodded once. "Ah – I see. You might have contacted me."

"You were busy. You have enough demands upon your time without attending to my every childish foible!"

"I wouldn't call grief for your past a childish foible – it's perfectly understandable that it would be difficult for you. I think I'd be more concerned if you appeared utterly untouched by it." He halted his flow of words for a moment, so he could get to his feet and move in order to rest his hands on his friend's shoulders and grip. "Don't ever apologise for your past to me, Milliardo – it is a part of who you are." He pulled the blond up to his feet, so they were standing together, almost touching along the length of their bodies. "I don't love you in spite of it, my friend. I merely love you."

Zechs closed his eyes. "Treize," he breathed.

Treize smiled. "Shh," he murmured and pressed his lips softly to the other's.

They stayed that way for the space of a few heartbeats, and then the younger man swayed, caught the elder in his arms and pulled them together, opening his mouth and deepening their kiss, inhaling the clean scent of his skin and the unique, signatory fragrance of Treize's rose and opium cologne, marvelling as he did so at how well it suited the dignity and the depth of the man who wore it. The most exquisite of flowers, but possessed of wounding thorns when incorrectly handled, and the most decadent of narcotics, so lethally poisonous to his friend should he be fool enough ever to sample it.

Agile fingers slid from Zechs's shoulders to caress the line of his body, causing the pilot to catch a moan in the base of his throat as those hands traced the fit of his velvety wool jumper against his waist.

What had begun as careful and comforting altered into fiery passion from one breath to the next. Treize's hands slipped under the sweater, closing on bare skin, stroking even as they were used to steer the blond a few steps across the cabin until his back was pressed to the metal grill dividing this section of the plane from the next. Zechs tilted his head, sending his hair falling in a sheet around him, as Treize moved his mouth to his throat.

"Treize, this isn't…" he gasped.

For an answer the elder man slid one knee between the pilot's and pushed forward, rocking his weight until the younger man moaned again, too far gone this time to stifle the sound. Treize gave thanks that the partition between the cabin and the cockpit was heavily reinforced as he voiced his own soft cry of pleasure. The pressure of Zechs's strong stomach muscles against his own hardened need was maddening.

"Oh, God… stop it, Treize! Stop it!"

"Why?"

"Because… if you don't…"

"What makes you think that isn't exactly my intention?"

"I…" Zechs began, and stopped as his voice broke on a ragged breath.

"Oh, my God!"

Treize started, his head snapping round as he looked over his shoulder to see Noin standing, one hand over her mouth, just inside the cabin.

"Sir! I'm so sorry…!" Her normally pale complexion was scarlet hued, her eyes wide as they fixed on her commanding officer and her classmate.

Zechs moaned softly and hid his face against his friend's shoulder, doubtless much the same shade as Noin. Treize folded his arms around the younger man's slender waist and held him, stroking his hair gently as an antidote to the tremors the general could feel running through his body, caused by stymied arousal and overwhelming embarrassment.

"Lucrezia, sit down," Treize instructed.

"Really, sir – I had no idea. I'm so, so sorry!"

"Thank you, but there's no need for you to be. Sit down."

The general watched as the young woman moved to obey his command, reading far more than embarrassment from her as she did so. Smiling to himself, he nudged Zechs with his shoulder. "You, too."

Reluctantly, Zechs let him go and made his way to the chair he had been sitting in before Treize had made him stand up, without once meeting Noin's eyes.

The older man sat in his own chair and looked at the pair of them, still smiling. "I don't know why either of you are behaving this way. Noin, I know you weren't intending to catch us in such a position, but you were aware of the nature of our relationship. What did you think that meant? Zechs, would you care to tell me why you suddenly seem embarrassed by the fact that I'm your lover?"

Two pairs of pale-hued eyes were staring at him in disbelief, but it was Noin who spoke first. "Sir, my apologies if I say anything to offend, but that logic doesn't follow. Yes, I was aware that you and Zechs were lovers, and yes, of course I knew what that must mean, but that doesn't mean I'm prepared to walk in on two of my senior officer's in what can only be described as a compromising position."

Treize didn't react for a moment, and Noin thought she'd gone too far. Then the man relaxed into his chair and began to laugh.

"Aptly reasoned, Lucrezia, but truly, this was my fault. I knew the location wasn't ideal – perhaps I should be grateful that it was you who caught us and not Lady Une?"

"Perhaps, sir. I wouldn't envy you that explanation."

"No, I imagine you wouldn't!" He paused. "What did you come in here to say anyway?"

"Oh! Lady Une sent me to tell you that we need to start our descent, and to ask if one of you can take over as co-pilot. She's never flown this type of plane before and she doesn't want to chance trying to land it."

Zechs chuckled, his earlier mortification apparently forgotten. "Tell her not to worry – I've never flown this type of plane before either and I got us off the ground alright."

"I think the Lady might debate that, but you have a point, Zechs," Treize agreed.

Noin shook her head. "Actually sir, I think she's right to switch out. The control tower has been warning us for the last half hour about the weather conditions over the air-field – I think if we were any other craft they'd have refused us clearance – and I have flown this type of plane before. They're powerful and manoeuvrable in the air, but they have all the aerodynamic characteristics of a flying brick on landing. Getting her down in what amounts to a small blizzard isn't going to be easy."

Treize frowned. "Define 'not easy'. If it isn't safe to attempt to land…"

Noin shrugged. "I didn't say it wasn't safe, sir, only that it's going to be a challenge to get her on the ground smoothly. I can do it, but I'm going to need co-pilot help, and Lady Une isn't the best option."

That much, Treize reflected, was certainly true. Though Une was an asset of no small measure to his command, her worth was as an administrator, not as a front-line soldier. She truly shone in a boardroom, not on a battlefield. Trained by the Special's Academy though she might have been, she was, by quite some margin, the weakest pilot on board, and Treize found it only to her credit that she was willing to admit that fact. He smiled, and looked at the younger man. "You go, Zechs. You're the stronger pilot, anyway, and you and Noin have flown together before. I'll stay here and keep the Lady company."

Zechs nodded and got to his feet, heading for the cockpit. Noin waited a moment, and then smiled at Treize.

"Thank you, sir. You might want to strap in – I'll try to make it a smooth landing, but you know Zechs…"

"I do indeed, Lucrezia."

She grinned and hurried away.