Disclaimer: As per usual.

Note 1 : Also as usual, thanks to KS for helping me get this one just right. It started out as a sappy Christmas story, loosely set in the ALG world, and well, it's turned into something quite different.

Note 2: A very Happy Christmas to everyone! (and please do beware of exploding crackers...*grins*)

Heero's POV:

Christmas Past:

The shower is running as I start downstairs. I can imagine him so very clearly; water streaming down his glorious cascade of hair, and I have to shake my head in an attempt to dislodge that entrancing image.

I have too much still to do before he comes down.

I want tonight to be perfect for him. It's all I've ever wanted; to have him safe and happy. It was my personal vow at the end of the War; that I would do anything to achieve that.

I couldn't even manage to keep my promise for one year.

December 25th, AC 195

Sanque Royal Palace.

He doesn't stir, not even when I close the bedroom door behind me, the clearest possible indication of how exhausted he has to be.

He is so beautiful asleep, my Duo.

It's the only time I really get to look at him properly; he gets embarrassed if I study him too closely when he's awake. He shifts very slightly as I approach the bed, moving on to his side. Perhaps he does sense me, although his sleep is never peaceful: the God of Death has far too many demons for that. I would love to think that he sleeps more soundly in my arms, but the truth is his nightmares haunt him even when I'm holding him. Sometimes, I think his mind reacts to even that small measure of restraint.

It scares me, actually, that he isn't moving. Anyone could have come in, could have…

I've just framed that thought when he does move, one hand reaching for the gun under his pillow; for a weapon we're not supposed to have anymore.

'You're back.'

'Superb observational skills as always,' I tease, crossing to sit on the bed beside him.

'Funny,' he blinks up at me through a tangle of hair. 'Wow. Where'd you get that sharp suit?'

'Relena ordered it for me. She thought it would make a good impression.'

'Yeah, I'll bet she did. Bet she liked seeing you all dressed up fancy-shmancy. So, how was it?'

'Bearable.'

'Did you smile for the birdie, the way we'd practised?'

'Hn.'

Originally, we'd all refused point-blank to appear at Relena's Christmas Day broadcast, which was to be shown live on Earth and the Colonies. Of course, there was no way that Trowa was going to leave Quatre's bedside, and Wufei had scoffed at the idea of taking part in anything so frivolous as a television programme. I'd only accepted because Relena had taken me aside after breakfast, and convinced me that it would be a good PR exercise.

The War might be over, but there were still plenty of people out there who thought the universe would be a far better place if the Gundam Terrorists were executed for their assorted crimes against humanity. Relena thought it would enhance our image considerably if we were seen as close friends of hers.

I hadn't told Duo that bit; as far as he was concerned, the War was over, and we'd all done more than enough.

Duo had thought it was hilarious; the idea of me going on live television, and insisted on giving me 'smiling lessons.' I'd tried, the first two times, and after that I'd simply lost patience, despite Relena's attempts to coax me into looking less - lethal. In truth, I probably hadn't done very much to dispel the idea of Gundam Pilots being homicidal maniacs.

'I can imagine.' Duo grins over at me. 'I'm guessing you didn't exactly project a whole lot of warm fuzziness, hey?'

I shake my head. If there is any warm fuzziness, as he calls it, in my nature, it is reserved exclusively for him; not for a TV studio. 'I don't think Relena was too impressed with how it turned out.'

Or with how I'd shot one of the cameras; I hadn't been expecting that sudden flash. It wasn't like I'd deliberately aimed at the interviewer either. He'd just happened to get in my line of fire as he'd dived for cover. I hadn't been charged, purely because Relena had stood up for me, claiming that I was her bodyguard and it had appeared to be an attack.

'Screw her,' Duo accompanies the words with a crude gesture that I'm glad Relena can't see and then makes a face. 'Sorry, 'Ro. Bad word choice, right? Anyway, don't worry about it. She should never have expected you to do something like that. I still can't believe you agreed to it.'

Nor can I, really. Except I've studied the uses of propaganda; something OZ always excelled at. I'd thought that demonstrating my acquaintance with the Queen of the World might be advantageous for all of us.

Duo slides one hand up my back and lets it rest on my shoulders. 'Sheesh, you're tense, 'Ro. I suppose she was bitching about how you didn't jump through hoops the way she wanted you to. Don't worry about it, OK? She was happy enough for you to play the perfect soldier when she needed you to save her life, or protect her dinky little kingdom, wasn't she? What does she expect now; that you're suddenly going to turn into Mr. Emotional because it's what she wants?'

'Don't call me that,' I say irritably, shrugging away from his hand. 'You know I hate that name. I've never been perfect.'

Duo leaves me alone for just long enough to feel guilty, and then wraps both arms around me. 'You know that's not how I see you,' he says softly. 'I know damn well you've got flaws, or you'd have killed me the first time we met. Me and Relena. You were never just some - weapon, no matter that those bastards tried to make you into one.'

'Thank you,' I whisper, running one hand down his braid and letting myself fall into his eyes.

'All part of the service, babe.' He grins at me, and I force myself to smile back. I can never get used to his lightning-swift changes of mood. He is mercury and moonbeams; impossible to pin down. His eyes narrow at my expression. 'She didn't hassle you any more about joining those Stoppers or Pluggers or whatever they're called, did she?'

'Not really.' It's not really a lie; she didn't hassle me as such; she merely mentioned that it would be nice for me to discuss my 'options for the future' with herself and Une. Life with Duo has taught me the little refinements of truthfulness.

'Good.' His mouth sets in a hard line. 'It's not like she can force you or anything. I don't know what the hell Fifi is thinking; agreeing to work for that fucking psycho bitch, Une.'

'You'd better not let him hear you call him that,' I warn. He and Wufei had finally managed to reach some sort of understanding, although there had been times during the War when I'd thought Duo was in more danger from 05 than from OZ. 'And I think it's more that he doesn't know what else to do.'

I can understand that, so very well. I'm not sure how any of us really fits into this new world we've helped to create. My whole life has been spent honing certain skills; I've always taken pride in being able to achieve certain things. I have - no idea what to do now.

'Maybe.' He shrugs casually, and I have to marvel at his insouciance, at how calmly he's apparently taking all of this. Yesterday, we all came so close to death; to watching an entire planet and its population die, and today we are the honoured guests of Princess Relena Peacecraft, even if most of the world hasn't quite decided whether we're heroes or villains. Duo Maxwell seems to be taking it all in his stride.

'What's that?' Always curious, his eyes focus on the slight bulge at my right hip. Apparently, he's decided that the serious conversation is over for now. 'Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just really pleased to see me?'

'It's called a Christmas cracker,' I hand it to him. 'Relena gave it to me.'

'Cool,' he strokes the shiny foil with one finger. 'What's it for?'

'Apparently, it's a Christmas tradition on Earth. We each take hold of one end and pull it apart.'

'What; we have to break it?' Duo looks shocked. 'But it's all pretty and shiny.' Then he grins. 'Wouldn't you rather pull me instead?'

'What? Wouldn't I hurt you?'

'Oh, it's just L2 slang,' he looks slightly discomfited; he never likes to mention his home colony. 'If you pull someone, you means you pick them up.'

'But I've already picked you.' I smile at him, taking hold of one end of the cracker. 'Humour me, love.' I want us to do things like this; all the things that normal people take for granted. 'I can look it up on-line if you want and see where the custom originated.'

'Nah, let's just wing it. See what happens?'

What happens is a minor explosion that shocks us both.

'What the fuck?' Duo gasps, on the floor beside me, gun pointed at the remains of the cracker. 'Is that bitch trying to kill us both?'

'I don't think so.' Of course, that was my first thought too. That someone - not Relena obviously - had been trying to attack us. 'I think it was just supposed to make a bang.'

'Fuck,' he mutters again. 'That's a great way to give someone a heart attack. Sorry, 'Ro, but this is one Earth tradition we are not getting into.'

'Definitely not,' I agree, sliding my gun back into its holster. The cracker is nothing more than a few shimmering scraps of foil on the carpet.

'What's that?' Duo reaches out and finds a small square of folded paper. His eyes glint. 'Maybe it's a little love note from your princess?'

'Don't be ridiculous.' It's hard, sometimes, to read his comments about Relena; to know whether he is genuinely teasing or whether there is more of an edge.

'Just kidding,' he reaches out and kisses me firmly on the mouth. 'I know you're not interested in her. Let's see what this says. Oh, it's a joke. Listen, what do you call Santa's little helpers? No guesses? Subordinate clauses.'

'That's awful, Duo.'

'It is pretty lame,' he agrees, but he carefully folds up the slip of paper and places it on the bedside table, probably to show Quatre later.

'I'm sorry about that. I never expected it would blow up.'

He laughs. 'Doesn't matter. The smell of gunpowder makes the place more homey, anyway.'

Only he could say something like that. 'Not just that. I wanted to get you a proper Christmas present.'

'Well, you had a busy day yesterday, what with saving the Earth and everything.' He pauses and I hold my breath for what he says next; it's the first time he's referred to what happened the previous day, although I know that there must have been a time when he thought I wouldn't survive. I know what he must have been thinking; another person he'd lost.

Then he shrugs. 'That's a good excuse for you not getting to the shops, and I suppose it does count as a gift, sort of.'

'Hn. I wanted to get you something personal.'

'Next year,' he says it absently, and then the most beautiful radiant smile lights up his face. I want to keep that look on his face for ever.

Next year.

For the past twelve months, we've never dared think beyond tomorrow, or next week. Our lives have been measured in missions, punctuated by those too-brief, precious times together.

Now, suddenly we have the possibility of a future.

'Here's something else that must have been in the cracker.' He leans around to pick up a small, shiny object.

'I'm not sure what it's for,' He examines the little silver toy in his hand. 'It's like this tiny sports car. You know, I think it's a Ferrari.'

'Let me see.' The model car is far, far too small to tell the make, but he loves sports cars. It's one of the few things he's ever mentioned that he'd like to own. One day. A classic Italian sports car in a ridiculously bright colour, that he can drive by the ocean. 'It's a key ring.'

I don't imagine either of us has ever possessed such a thing. It's not like Gundams come with locks and keys, and neither of us would have used them in our previous lives. We both have certain skill that render such trivialities as keys wholly unnecessary.

'You have it,' I press it back into his hands. 'You can use it for the key to our home.'

He catches a breath in sheer delight, looking up at me as if I'd just handed him the moon wrapped up in rainbows, and then he's wrapped around me.

Our home.

It was something we'd discussed in whispers once or twice during the War; neither of us every truly believing in the fantasy.

'Our home?' He echoes, making it a question.

'Of course.' I know it's the thing he wants most in the world; something he's never had. Something neither of us has ever had; a safe place. I can't imagine it, not really, but no power in the universe is going to make me destroy that look on his face. Instead, I force a note of certainty into my voice. 'Like we talked about, with trees and water nearby and the biggest bed in the world.'

'I kind of liked squashing up with you in all those narrow beds. And that sleeping bag,' he says.

'Me too. But think how …inventive we could be, with more space. I want that. I want us to have all the things other people have. I want to give you the world.'

He leans over and kisses me. 'I think you already did. But you know, Blue,' Duo teases slyly, 'if you really want to give me a personal gift, you could just fuck me silly.'

Blue.

He'd coined the nickname our first time together, staring into my eyes. He only uses it before or during sex, and having him murmur it like that is more than enough to make me hard.

'Baka,' I bend to kiss the sweet curve of his mouth. 'You're already silly.'

'Maybe. So…can I have my Christmas present now?'

Ah, discussion time is very definitely over, then, but God, how can I resist him when he looks at me like that? His hair is already half loose, tangled by sleep, and he tugs it free as he pulls his T-shirt over his head.

'Too many words, 'Ro.' He slides the jacket off my shoulders as he speaks, fingers already loosening my tie and unbuttoning the shirt. 'Way too many clothes.'

'Is that…better?' I ask breathlessly, lifting my hips so he can pull my pants down.

'Much, much better,' he urges me to lie back against the pillows so he can crawl all over me.

It is still a relatively new thing; this adventurousness on his part. New enough that he is fascinated by the way my skin pimples when he touches it with fingers or mouth or even his breath. New enough that he bits bites down just a fraction too hard on my nipple and then kisses me contritely when my breath catches.

It's become a game for him, to try to make me lose control.

'Enough,' I say suddenly, and flip us both over, so I'm lying on top of him, the sudden move making his give a little squeak of surprise. The sound is enchanting; a new one for my collection of Duo noises.

'Asshole,' he mutters, but there is the faintest smile hovering at the corner of his mouth. If he feels safe enough, secure enough, he sometimes likes it when I take control.

'Why should I let you have all the fun?' I grin down at him. 'I had to, love. Or I would have come far too soon.'

'Really?' He looks oddly smug at that. It amazes me, that someone who looks like him can suffer from so many insecurities.

'Oh, yes.' I grind down a little, letting him feel just how close I am, delighted when he tilts his hips to meet me.

'Then this might come in handy.' He produces a tube of lubricant from who-knows-where, and hands it to me with an impish grin. Then he flops back down on the mattress, legs spread, leaving me in no doubt as to what he wants.

'You're sure?' I can count the number of times we've had penetrative sex; that handful of occasions during the War when we were together, and uninjured and in a safe place. He's only chosen to go on top twice; he claims he's too scared of hurting me to enjoy it properly. He can say things that threaten to split my heart.

'Heero, get a clue,' those huge eyes glow as he laughs up at me. 'I'm naked; I'm in your bed; I've just handed you the lube. Of course I'm freaking sure.'

'Just checking.' I lean down to invade his mouth with my tongue, waiting until he's submerged in the kiss before I try to slide one hand between his legs. He always claims that it's pure sadism that makes me draw this part out; he always claims he's ready before I think he is.

I love it. I love the feel of him, slowly stretching to accommodate me; feeling the tension slowly leach from his body under my hands. The little gasp when my fingers hit that place for the first time; the way his breath hitches when I brush one hand against his erection.

And always, at the back of my mind, is the thought that if I can do this with enough care and gentleness and love, that I can wipe out all his other memories.

'That's so good, Blue,' he moans, lifting his lips to grind his erection against mine. 'Come on, it's Christmas, right? Don't make me beg.'

He's always quiet at the start; as if he can't trust his voice, until I can make him lose that control, and then there's a sobbing litany of my name, interspersed with contradictory pleas to finish it, to make it last forever…

This is the best part; when he's finally managed to shed all his inhibitions and controls. The part where I know he wants me, for his own pleasure, and he's not just trying to give me what he thinks I want. This is the way I always want it to be for us. That ultimate connection of our two bodies; the firm, tight grasp of his body around mine, that somehow transcends pain or pleasure.

Afterwards, it always takes him a little while to come down. While he floats back to reality, I take a cloth from the bathroom and clean us both up, and then start to deal with his hair, using my fingers to comb out the tangles. I am allowed to have his hair loose only on condition that I tidy it up afterwards. For Duo, this is a chore; for me, it's still a pleasure, to be able to touch it. He always marvels that I rarely bother to comb my own hair, but can lavish hours of attention on his.

According to Duo, his hair is brown. Full stop. Chestnut is slightly better, but it still doesn't come close to describing the multitude of different shades. It glints gold under the sun; and glows like flame in firelight.

'I don't like this place,' he confides quietly, as if he's afraid of being overheard.

'No?' I tease a tangle of hair loose. 'I like it very much.'

He snorts, touching his lips to my hand. 'This palace. I hate it. When can we leave?'

'Soon, love,' I soothe him. I'm not sure if he thinks that we can just walk out when we please, whereas I know that two Gundam Pilots - former Gundam Pilots - cannot simply wander off when and where we choose. Officially, we are honoured guests of the Sanque kingdom, and of Relena Peacecraft; in truth, we are prisoners, until the ESUN decides how to deal with us. I'm not sure how to tell him that, though. He doesn't deal with any form of restraint well.

Already, there have been calls, from the media and from various politicians around the Earth and the Colonies that we deserve to be executed for crimes against humanity.

'You know, we can't go anywhere until Quatre is better,' I temporise. 'You don't want to leave him while he's hurt, do you?'

His head-shake sends streamers of bright hair rippling against his skin. 'I hate this,' he bursts out. 'All those stupid reporters, and their stupid questions. I don't want to have to talk to them, 'Ro.'

'I know.' My fingers find that spot at the back of his neck and stroke gently. 'Don't worry, my love. All you have to do is turn on that Maxwell charm and you'll have everyone eating out of your hand.'

It's perfectly true; that he can charm anyone when he chooses, another gift I'm not altogether sure he's conscious of. On the other hand, he is all too aware of his talent for pissing people off. It's probably for the best that he's kept far away from any journalists.

'Maxwell charm my ass!'

'It does have a certain charm,' I smile, sliding one hand down to squeeze it gently.

'Don't even think about it,' he warns, shuffling a little closer nonetheless, one hand snaking between my legs. 'Although if you really wanted, since it is Christmas and all…'

Damn. I hate when he does this; I know he can't really want me again. He has to be sore and exhausted and I know he's only offering as a means to distract me from the topic at hand.

'Later, maybe.' I remove his hand and lift it to my mouth, kissing his fingers to soften the refusal. He has such a problem with rejection. 'I don't know about you but I'm not ready. Besides, you should probably sleep, love,' I suggest slyly. 'You're exhausted.' After love-making has always been our time to exchange confidences; the time when we both feel terrifyingly vulnerable and intimate.

'I'm OK,' he says at once, just as I knew he would. The skies would collapse before Duo Maxwell admitted to bodily weakness. Even in the Lunar Base, when they'd tried so hard to break him, he'd firmly denied there was anything wrong with him. I'd saved him from being raped during the War, and he'd refused to discuss it for days, claiming he was fine even when his throat was hoarse from the nightmares.

'Hey, Heero,' he murmurs. 'Take it easy, OK? We're not all made out of steel.'

Gasping apologies, I loosen my hold on him, the stranglehold I hadn't even noticed my arms had locked around him.

'It's OK,' he curls closer, carefully folding his arms around my waist. 'What brought that on, baby?'

Baby.

He has a myriad of names for me, depending on his mood. Yuy or asshole or occasionally baka are all clear signs that he's annoyed with me. 'Ro is for everyday; babe is his flip way to tease me, and I have to pretend I dislike it. My full name, depending on how he uses it, is either an indication that he's being serious, or an endearment. Blue is for sex; occasionally he comes up with a new name, just to see how I'll react.

Baby is new, and I'm still deciding whether to be amused or offended, when he speaks again.

'Tell me,' he invites, soft as a breath. He has a singular talent for doing this; for reading my moods, and offering comfort.

'Just old memories.'

'It's over, 'Ro.' His eyes are very dark, very intense as he stares at me; the colour of an African twilight. 'We're alive; we're together. Can't we just enjoy that?'

'Of course we can,' I wind myself around him, as if my body can physically shelter him from any possible harm. I want so very much to keep him safe. In some ways, it was easier when we were fighting; I knew I had the skills needed to handle a War. I could fight to keep him safe, simply by doing exactly what I'd been brought up to do. Now everything has suddenly shifted. The things I can do - the only things I can do - aren't needed. Of course, I can't tell Duo any of that.

What he needs now is reassurance and I will give him that; give him that little piece of security he obviously wants. Isn't that what partners do for each other?

Maybe he's right, anyway. Maybe we should just be able to enjoy this little interlude without worrying or planning about what is going to happen next.

'I went to see Quat, when you were off being a TV star.'

I nod; I'm used to his sudden shifts in subject now; there is usually a pattern. It always takes him time to weave the pieces, and then I would learn what was really occupying his mind. I just had to wait.

'He and Trowa had this big row earlier.'

I start with surprise; those two never fight. Not that I know of, although there are things that Quatre only confides to Duo. They have always seemed the perfect couple; willing to do anything for each other. Exactly what I want to be for Duo.

'So do I need to kill Trowa or have you taken care of it already?'

'Nah,' he burrows his head into my shoulder, trying to hide the reluctant grin. He teases me for being over-protective of Quatre, but he's much worse.

'Tro was being an asshole, but they got it sorted out. They're cool now..' he bites his lip, obviously unsure of whether to tell me more, probably wondering if it will betray a confidence. I am allowed on the periphery of Duo and Quatre's inner circle but there is always a line I can't cross.

'It just sucks, you know. Tro was saying all this stupid shit; that the War is over and he's got no place in Quat's life now. That they have to start living in the real world, and accept that they can't be together any more.' He takes a deep breath, studying the ceiling. 'I can't believe that guy; picking a row today of all fucking days. I mean, after everything they've been through, they're both still alive and together, and it all fucking goes wrong. Quat was really upset, Heero.'

Ah. The pieces suddenly tumble into place; this, with Duo, passes for subtlety.

He's so very hard to read sometimes; he tries so very hard to hide his fears. That he's actually broached this topic indicates how much he's been worried about it.

'It won't go wrong for us, Duo,' I slide down in the bed so we are lying face to face. 'I swear. We are alive and together and it's going to be all right.'

It will, I swear to myself. There is nothing, at this moment, that I won't say or do to convince him of this. I will never, never let anyone hurt him again.

I stroke the back of his neck; something that always reassures him, and gaze into those incredible, indigo eyes. I could kill Trowa for putting those doubts there, on this day especially, and I'm not sure exactly what I can say to banish them.

'I love you,' I offer finally, hoping it will be enough. He can create ripples and patterns and dreams with words; make my world explode with light and colour. All I can give him is three little words. 'I swear, Duo, I love you more than anything in the world, and we will make this work.'

'Good,' he mutters. 'I'll hold you to that.'

'Or you could just hold me,' I suggest whimsically.

'What are we going to do now, Heero?'


There it is; that first tiny chink in his careful facade of coping with our new situation. He's not the only one to be unsure, and that gives me a sudden rush of relief, before I realise. One of us has to be the one to cope; the strong, sure one. That's how it's supposed to work.

'This,' I run one hand down his side, cupping his ass. The expression in his eyes is practically impossible to read; so many emotions struggling for dominance. Hope and fear and need and desire..'Whenever we like. And all those things you've planned; all those places you want to see. We'll do anything we want. Go around the world chasing rainbows if we like.'

'That'd be fun.' It's our private expression; a phrase for something that's totally unattainable. Except that maybe we can do it now. Go around the world chasing rainbows. Thank God, his face relaxes just a fraction, the tension bleeding out. It's worth lying just to see that smile on his face. '

Maybe.

It scares me; the prospect of being able to simply choose what to do. I've never had that. Duo is so much more adaptable, but then he's had to survive on his own so much more than I have.

It is - impossible to take in, right now. The idea that - maybe - the War is over for us, and that we really can make our own lives. For me; it's vertigo inducing. I want to be with him, more than anything, but what if I can't give what he wants? What he needs from me?

I have tried researching relationships on line, but there were no articles relevant to our particular situation. When I have hinted a little of my unease to Quatre, he has simply smiled and said he knew how I felt about Duo. And that it will be enough. It is frightening, almost; the level of trust he is placing in me to take care of his best friend.

There is nothing I wouldn't do for Duo. Of course not. But sometimes it is difficult to gauge the difference between his needs and wants. I can't imagine what it will be like, actually sharing a life with him. The only large periods of time we've spent together so far have been when we were on the Lunar Base, and the weeks we lived together in a safe house, while he was recovering from being an OZ captive.

Even then, I had to leave him to carry out missions and I learned something about how he copes with life. It's far too easy to say that he ignores things; he's much more complex than that. Sometimes, I feel that he is constructing his own layers of reality; almost an enviable gift.

'They won't let us keep them, will they?'

It actually takes a moment to grasp what he's talking about. For Duo, his Gundam has always been so much more than a weapon; the Deathscythe was his armour against the world; the thing that made him Shinigami. Even if we're allowed to live, there's no way the Gundams will survive.

There's no way to lie about this. Even Duo must see that their destruction is inevitable. They are simply too good at carrying out the tasks they were designed for. Like us. 'Oh, my love. No. I'm sorry. They'll have to be destroyed.'

He just nods, accepting. 'I guessed that.'

'You'll still have me,' I offer, not entirely able to judge his mood. 'Always.'

'Always. I'd like that.' He looks sad. 'I won't let anyone take you away from me, Heero.'

Ah.

He knows. Of course he does. Duo may prefer to live in his own version of reality, but he is aware of the real world.

I've finally stopped underestimating him, most of the time. Our minds may operate differently - he is quicksilver intuition to my measured, logical reasoning - but his stab-in-the-dark guesses are usually accurate. Slightly galling, really.

'What?' He eyes me wryly. 'Even I don't live in that much of a bubble, you know.'

That makes me smile; he can always tell what I'm thinking. 'Your bubbles can be constructed from solid Gundamium, my love.'

'I was talking to Quatre,' he says after a few moments. He does this, sometimes; suddenly admitting me to a conversation he'd been holding in his own mind.

'He explained some stuff to me. He said we probably should be OK; it won't look too good executing five teenagers to start off this whole new era of peace and stuff.

I can't help wondering if Quatre truly believes this, or if he just wanted to reassure Duo. I wonder which one of them brought it up in the first place.

''Course, it probably helped that you saved the freaking Earth, and Wufei offed Khushrenada. And Quat was badly hurt; that'll look good in the media; this cute blond who sustained a serious injury when he was only trying to help.'

It crosses my mind for the merest fraction of a second that maybe Quatre planned that injury; he is an expert fencer, and I'm sure he could have beaten Dorothy Catalonia normally. No, surely he wouldn't do that.

'You and Trowa were there too,' I remind him gently.

I hate it; how he can never seem to take pride in his accomplishments. So much irony there, really; when we first met, that springy confidence had grated, until I'd realised it was just another of the masks he wears.

'Yeah. But Tro and I wouldn''t look so good on their nice shiny press releases, would we? Nah, I don't want to get involved in all that crap. I just want to be left alone. With you.'

'I know.' I shift on to my side, tucking him against me, so our bodies are pressed together, touching as much as we can. 'It's all I want, too.' It's impossible to tell, with Duo, whether he really believes he can choose not to be a part of this, or if he's just trying to convince himself.

'I love you,' he whispers. He doesn't say it very often, and I know it scares him. He's too used to losing the people he loves. I can't see his face, the way he's tucked against me but I kiss the top of his head and tighten my arms around him. I won't let anyone take him away from me. Ever. Whatever I have to do to keep him safe, I'll do it.

'Love you too. Happy Christmas.'

'Mmm.' Sleep is claiming him fast, but he still struggles to talk. 'C'n we get a tree next year? For our house? And put lights on it?'

It is the first thing he has ever directly asked me for. He has mentioned things that he would like; the sports car, a Jack Russell puppy, a home near the ocean, but I think he sees them as wistful fantasies. Not things he can ever really possess.

'We'll have a whole forest,' I promise. 'With so many lights that people will be able to see it from space.'

'And Heaven?' He looks surprised by his own question. Neither of us believes in any sort of afterlife, but I just give him an uncertain nod. I will never, never know all the things that are going on inside his head.

He gives me one last, drowsy smile. 'Cool. No more of those damned crackers though, 'kay?'

'No more crackers,' I agree. 'Happy Christmas, my love.'