The wrap-up to the arc.

Follows "The Most Perfect Thing"

More merciless sap.


I'm sorry.

We both say it at the same time, and it's really sort of funny, in a twisted sort of way. You're an entirely different kind of beautiful when you're trying not to look embarrassed.

Maybe we ought to stop meeting like this...

Not that I want to, mind you. It's just that... well...

I blink at you rapidly as, in all seriousness, you say what I'm thinking, your eyes already frosting over slightly with anticipated pain.

Did you... do you mean that?

God... oh, God, you do. I've never seen such a serious statement on your face. Never.

I have to touch you, make sure you're real... I reach for your face, and I'm praying that you are. If this is a dream... it mustn't be a dream, it mustn't.

Your skin, smooth, and your hair, silk and crisp between my fingers. Wonderfully real. And your intent eyes, locked on mine as I pull us closer together, never wavering... and I touch my mouth to yours, too brief a contact, but I'd never get enough of you with a thousand years of kisses.

Oh, God, what am I doing? I retreat a little, I have to. Rejection at this close a range will kill me, I swear it will.

You whisper--my name. That you--that you--me--staying--

There's a brick in my throat, and speaking is impossible. Completely impossible. The only thing I can do is what I want most: to put myself as close to your body as I can while we're both still dressed. Thank God you understand and hold me tightly. It feels better than I dared to hope.

It's not till I feel your throat move as you speak that I realize I'm crying, and that we're on the verge of another misunderstanding.

I can't help the laughter. We've got to work on this communication issue.

I love you, Heero.

You squeeze me enough to make my ribs creak a little, and I can feel your face buried in my hair. I was right: you are going to be my undoing.

I look forward to it.


And that, my friends, is that. Did I do well?