Christmas Eve and Gerard breezed into the den with with his picture perfect PA, Missy LeGrande in his wake. "I think we should go skiing. I need a break from LA. What do you think, Tony? The snow in Banff is perfect at the moment."

"Wonderful idea, darling." Tony smiled as his attention was fixed on his beau.

"The Fairmont hotel is superb. Spa, Golf, Skiing, Excellent food and service." Gerard had obviously already organised everything. Tony had given Alex the heads up that Gerard liked to go back to Canada for Christmas and New Year.

Alex had not even been anywhere remotely cold since his accident and mumbled "I've got no cold weather clothes."

"Missy will arrange a shopping trip when we get to the resort. Lessons as well I assume for Alexander. The Canadian Paralympic Alpine Team train there I hear. I'm sure Missy can arrange a personal tutor. Skiing is fun!" Gerard was in his late fifties but acting like a teenager.

Alex smiled at the PA "Are Missy and I sharing? I should warn you, I hog the covers."

The thirty something workaholic was no babysitter, smiled coldly and drawled in her soft Georgia accent. "In your dreams, Alexander John."

Tony defused the awkward tension between flirty Alex and the ice maiden. "No, Alex darling. You'll share a suite with us. Family now. Gerard was born in Alberta, not far from Banff. I think he's homesick."

Alex had never skied in Canada, but he clearly remembered skiing in the Rockies, which had been his last holiday with Ian. In retrospect all the clue to Ian's real persona had been on show, his cold cruel manipulation of a child to shape him into a tool, a weapon. This trip was unreal from the start, with the private jet, chauffered limousines and ending in arriving to a suite so sumptious it was ridiculous. Alex looked at the decor, the top of the range TV, hi-fi and signed to Tony 'I'm tired, going to bed.' The manager himself had shown this party to their room. Alex's bedroom had twn beds, its own TV, en-suite bathroom, and fridge. He opened and took out a bottle of water. Drank it down in one and then collapsed on the bed. It took five minutes of letting the bad feeling bleed out to take of his prosthetics and close his eyes.

The room service supper was delivered to the suite. Tony knocked on Alex's door to see his son fast asleep on top of the bed still wearing his clothes. The actor was tempted to undress Alex but left him to snore.

It was dark. The window was in the wrong place. It was too warm. Alex had dreamt of Point Blanc, the extreme snowboarding and the sting of bullets hitting his kevlar ski-suit. Alex pulled on his legs and went into the main room and then onto the balcony. The stars were blazing. The air crisp and cold. He shivered and sat on the chair to think on skiinhg lessons in the morning. Hopefully it would be more successful than his one attempt at skating. Four bad falls on the ice and he had given up, sitting on the side, drinking black tea to warm up and letting Becka's mum fuss over him as he shivered and hated the fact that he used to skate well. He had played junior ice hockey in Germany, coached by Jack, who adored hockey.

The thoughts of the past were jarring. Jack had not even said good bye or so long. He was shivering. The cold penetrating into his bones. "Happy Christmas." He said sarcastically under his breath. Only the resorts were open all day. Shopping, skiing, restaurants and bars catering to the holiday makers.

The state of the art shower had a small seat built in and hand rails. Alex let the hot water pummel his skull. He was in no mood for TV. So the wee small hours were spent doing his holiday coursework.

"Alex breakfast"

The "I'm not hungry" was almost shouted back and then Alex remembered, stupid Christmas and stupid presents. "Coming, Papa."

Alex was dressed down in Churchill College t-shirt and jogging bottoms.

"Oh, you've had a shower? I didn't hear you"

"At 2am, my internal clock is still screwed by the change in time zones."

"You must be starved."

Gerard was sat with his laptop, working.

"Merry Christmas, evil step-dad."

"Happy holidays, wastrel step son."

Alex snorted in mirth at Gerard's reply. The tall blond then walked over to his papa to kiss him on the cheek. "Joyeux Noël, Papa. Je t'aime."

"Love you too, trouble. Come you missed supper. We had a aubergine tagine. It was gorgeous."

Alex looked at the fruit salad, muffins, bread rolls and poured himself a black coffee. "I'll eat in a minute." He drank the italian coffee down, savouring the fact Tony was very particular on his cup of java, only the best was good enough. Alex hummed, better than the stuff in halls.

Tony then watched his son eat like he had not seen food in weeks.

Presents were opened. Alex receiving a brand new laptop and mobile. Tony opened a very over-wrapped parcel, covered in three layers of bubble wrap to reveal two pen and ink drawings of his son by Richard Warren. Gerard looked at the garish ties he had been given by Alex, one for Churchill College and one for the British Paralympic Association. Gerard also received a hand written notebook on surviving life with Tony and Alex. The self made man flicked and then commented "Your list on things that annoy Tony is very long, but please explain.. the zombie incident."

"Oh right, err October 2002, coming up to Halloween and Guy Fawkes Night, Tom and I did a stupid stunt combining our love of horror films and penny for the guy. I was the 'guy'. So we made up a galleon of fake blood, which I was drenched in. I was pushed around on a cart nicked from B&Q as zombie food minus my prosthetics and Tom as said zombie eating a fake foot. Well we thought it was brilliant. I was acting up a storm groaning and crying in pain. Well, we were on a good pitch on Lambeth High Street, collecting money for the School and some one with no sense of humour, culture or art called the police. Something about a poor disabled kid being abused. Well, Social Services and the Cops troll up and well, Tom and I were grounded until Christmas." Alex smiled and sighed, "We really should have videoed it. Poor Tom got a really bollocking from his mum and dad for 'misleading' me, go figure. Tony, after he got all the crap cleared up with my social worker said I deserved an Oscar." Alex then missed hanging with Tom with his whole heart. He had not phoned him for months, college crap taking up all his time. His planner would be rearranged for a slot to keep in contact with everyone.

Tony shook his head and then added, "How that did not end up in the local press I will never know. It was discussed in the PTA meeting and placing you in a more understand environment was brought up, away from the bad rough council kids. Tom was a sweetie and no one believed me when I said you were the one leading him astray".