In all his years he had never felt so much a fool, never felt as though he truly had lost, and realized quickly how desperate he had become in his attempt to regain ground. He wanted to be where Chaz was, wanted to be near him, and wanted more than anything to see him smile again. The entire week was torture, and while Gale waited each night by his window for a letter that never came he dreamed of how their reunion would unfold. He thought of a thousand ways to say he was sorry, a thousand more to tell Chester Lawrence how foolish he had been, but when the time came to walk up that old lonely road to London Gale only had a single red rose in his hand.

Dressed for the winter, he welcomed December—the month of his birth, which was only a few days away. It was the half way mark between here and Spring, and for a once caravan life it meant a time of rest. They often camped out in the forests outside the great city, and made homes in the groves of old farmers. Someday he wondered if he’d ever return, if that wild call would call him home, or if he had truly given up that life. Gale was at a stand still with his own personal issues, and right now all he could truly care about was apologizing a thousand times to Chester. He hoped it wasn’t too late.

‘The old dumpy flat’ wasn’t hard to find, he followed his instincts and asked around. Funny how memorable the young man was, and with ever ‘oh yes, you mean the boy with the big grin’ Gale realized how much of a hold the other man had on his heart. For weeks now he struggled with the voices pushing him away, the bitter angry words of the ghost that haunts him, but walking the street now all he could hear were his own steps in the snow.

Flowers in hand he came upon the door, and worried he held too tight. Through his fingerless leather gloves he could almost feel the thorns, and in that quiet moment of solitude he thought of how beautiful the blood would be on the winter white of the snowy streets of London. However, before the doubt could reach his heart, or rattle his chest--Gale knocked softly on the door.

He was just some guy he'd picked up in a bar.  Chaz hadn't been on the prowl, wasn't looking to pull, but when the handsome man sidled up to him and bought him another drink with a rather pointed leer, he had decided that a night of fun was exactly what he needed.  After Malcolm he'd been crushed, sad and depressed.  Their relationship had spanned years of his life though.  So what if Gale had decided he was too straight for Chaz after all? 

Chaz was deeply confused.  On one hand, his time spent with Gale was intense and intimate.  It seemed as though they'd really formed a connection but he didn't so much as blink when he saw Chaz at Dolly St. James' party.  Even his letter was a headache-inducing combination of poetic imaginings of Chaz wearing his coin and regretful sighs that things had ended.  When had they started, Chaz wanted to ask irritably.  Really?  They had only talked a couple of times.

A part of him just wanted to forget about all of this, if only for a few hours.  When he'd looked at the tall man with broad shoulders, shoulder-length brown hair, and two brown eyes, he'd thought about lying under him in bed and being driven over the edge of reason.  He wanted that.  Desperately.  He was tired of being pushed around and used like some sort of doll.  Chaz wanted to be treated like a person for a change, even if it was only for his body and only for an hour or two.

Chaz hugged his jacket closer around his body as he approached his flat.  The guy, Mark, he'd said, came up behind him and wrapped his arms around him full-body.  Chaz felt rather small next to him.  It was kind of nice, he supposed.  Warmer at least.  Hot, moist breath on his ear and Mark was speaking.  "Are we almost there?  I'm not sure I can wait much longer to strip you down and take you."

Chaz laughed but it was thin and stilted.  "Yeah, we're here."  He pulled his key out of his pocket and froze.  There was a highly recognizable figure with shining white hair on his doorstep.  His jaw hung open and he could do nothing but stand in the snow and stare at Gale, whom he'd thought had forgotten about him.

Gale heard the voices long before he saw their shadows, but even when the pair came into clear view he didn't want to put his mind around what it was he saw. That creature had a hold of something that was precious to him, yet he knew he didn't have any room to feel the swell of rage that rose up like a white blank page. All Gale could do was lower his hand back to his side, and try to fight away the war that waged between knocking this fool's face in or falling to his knees to beg Chaz's forgiveness.

He was stunned silent, thin lips flattening as he clenched his jaw, and the palm that held the roses warming as his blood pooled from the thorns. Gale had such a hold that even through the bit of thin leather he felt the prick, but made no movement to release. He didn't know what to say, or what to do. He didn't know where to begin or where to let go. He wasn't heartbroken, but it did hurt. His chest closed so tightly around his drumming organ that he thought it would suffocate--and stop. He wanted it to. He wanted to die just there, end this torment, and just let the whole thing be over.

He would not run from this, no. He would not let that pain show, and to mask his emotions he pulled down his icy mask; that sort of porcelain that wouldn't shatter now matter how hard he tried to break it. Gale set his chin, rolled his shoulders back, and lifted his face as if he truly was a prince. Gale felt cornered, they were blocking his escape, and the door behind him held him up. His good eye narrowed deadly on the other man, nearly forgetting Chaz was there, and Gale moved his fingers enough to get the circulation back. Couldn't break open his face with a too tight clenched fist now could he?

It wasn't until Gale shot Chaz a glance did his entire being ease back from the tension. Chaz looked shocked, hurt, and confused. He looked well, despite looking a little tired, but most of all he just seemed so defensive in the way he stood. He'd truly been hurt hadn't he?

"Chaz..." Gale softened as even his shoulders deflated when his too straight spine relaxed, "I'm sorry. I just thought...well," He looked back to the man before returning his eyes to that sweet artist, "You've got company." He stated the obvious, but it was more an attempt to convince himself. "Company that wants to take you somewhere." He stated blankly, and cursed the images that flashed of the two of them--together.

The other man seemed annoyed and impatient, but when Gale took a deep breath he stood his ground.

All the best things in life are worth fighting for, Nightingale. Don't you let this one go.

"Can I talk to you a minute?" He asked out of a last bit of bravery, and simply pushing the other man from his thoughts. Five minutes. He only needed five minutes to state his case.

Quite honestly, Chaz felt sick to his stomach.  A combination of surprise, guilt, and anger tore at his guts and he froze on his icy walk.  How could he have forgotten how beautiful this man was?  So elegant and somewhat tragic.  He didn't miss the flash of anger that stiffened his composure and created a masked of defensive hatred.  That was difficult to witness  but he was crushed with it disappeared.  Gale softened by the hurt... and betrayal, was almost unbearable.  He felt so guilty all of a sudden even though he really had no reason to be.

"Give me a minute, Mark?"  Chaz asked, already moving away to give him and Gale a small bit of privacy.

"It's Mike," came the irritated response.  But the guy just crossed his arms and turned away so Chaz assumed he was acquiescing in a way.  Chaz gently cupped Gale's elbow and led him back down the walk a bit so they could talk without being overheard.  He made sure to keep himself between Gale and the guy though, not really sure why but feeling the need to do it anyway.

He stopped and dropped his hand from Gale's elbow turning to stand in front of him.  "What's wrong?" he asked, genuinely worried in a mild sort of way.  "What are you doing here?"  He glanced over Gale's shoulder at Mike.  This really wasn't going to turn out well, he had a feeling.

Every fiber of his being had to stop from reaching out and just wrapping his arms around Chaz's shoulders. He wanted to break down, and fall to his feet. He wanted nothing more than for Chaz to tell Mark or Mike to go away, that he was taken care of now. He'd be his one night stand, he'd be his forever if it meant just keeping Chaz, but how could he be so blind to see how much he'd hurt him already. They hardly knew one another, and this was how he hurt him?

"You don't even know his name?" Gale asked out of no where, as if the realization dawned on him, and he stiffened in his step. "Chaz, you don't know his name..." He didn't mean to be so judgmental, but damn it Chaz deserved better than this. Gale quickly pushed the thoughts again from his mind and shook his head. However, as the images started to dance around again of Chaz and this stranger he wanted to break the man's neck. Suffering through the rage, he tried his hardest to breathe, trying to control those deadly little hands at best he could but failing.

"You can't." He finally confessed. "Please don't. I can't stand the thought of you with him." He clutched one hand beneath his ribs as if he worried the burning fire would escape and scorch them both. He'd always associated his heart with what it would be to have a dragon living inside his ribs and right now the beast was clawing wanting to break out just to kill this fool who dare have his arms around the object of his affection.

"Not if you don't care about him," He exhaled heavily trying to control his rage, "You deserve better than that. I'll break his neck if he hurts you." 

Chaz crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at the shorter man.  "No, apparently I don't," he snapped.  He glanced irritably at Mike while shifting his weight. A part of him wanted to blame his hookup for making a big deal about it in the first place.  Who cared what your one night stand's name was.  Not knowing was part of the whole point.  A hookup was all about the sex, carefree and fun.  Chaz just wanted to have a little bit of fun.  He was sick and tired of being alone and sad, moping around London like a kicked puppy. 

This wasn't something he normally did but it was really none of Gale's business.  Chaz resented having to explain himself like this to a guy who seemed so uninterested. 

"You can't." He finally confessed. "Please don't. I can't stand the thought of you with him."

"Excuse me? You can't stand the thought of us having sex?  Well perhaps you should have thought about that before you decided you'd rather date a woman.  You don't have a say in what I do or who I sleep with."  Chaz shook his head.  He couldn't really believe he was here having this conversation.  It felt absurd but it was  deeply serious.  The deadly look on Gale's face made it perfectly clear.  He felt like he should say something less combative to defuse the anger there.  "He's just some guy I picked up," he said, lowering his voice so Mike couldn't hear him.  "And I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself."

"Excuse me? You can't stand the thought of us having sex?  Well perhaps you should have thought about that before you decided you'd rather date a woman.  You don't have a say in what I do or who I sleep with."

"No. I can't. And it's not because it's not with me. I mean.." He stopped and ran a hand through his hair nervously, "It's just that he doesn't love you. He doesn't even like you. You are just a notch on his belt, Chaz. And...well.. you deserve better than that." Gale held both of his hands together, his fingers fiddling around the flower's step.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't come here to insult you, or wound you further. I just came to apologize. I came to give you this, and to try to make up for my mistake. When I told you I had plans that weekend, I didn't tell you about her. But...it's not what you think. We have a connection in common a man, she needed someone to help her find him, and I knew just where. It's part of my past. I met her the same night I met you. I asked her because well...because she is extremely nice, and very beautiful. And as a Professor to Hogwarts I'm expected to keep such company. I get along with her really well, we have a lot in common. But..." Gale lowered his voice and took a step closer, and just before he could finish a shadow fell over them.

Mark, or Mike was it, stood beside them with his arms crossed over his massive chest,

"Listen. I don't mean to interrupt your little bitch drama, but I'm cold. And if you don't mind I've got plans for this one." Mike spat as he brought his hand to take Chaz by his forearm. His hold was forceful, but only for a second as his wrist was captured by a rather petite yet firm hand forcing him to let go. Mark looked nearly insulted, and half on the verge of laughing.

"Don't touch him like that." Gale hissed, through tightly clenched teeth, and Mark finally burst with laughter.

"Or what, Shrimp? You gonna defend his virtue? He's nothin' special. Just a one night stand. Same thing as a whore, but doesn't cost me anything other tha--" He wouldn't get to finish his thought with Gale's foot forcing him back. The kick landed very firmly on the man's chest, and caused him to slide a few feet on the snow before he sprang back up.

Chaz wasn't sure if it was the insult or the way he looked at Gale as he struggled to stand, but something snapped in Chaz.  A normally passive and cheerful guy, he lunged between the two of them.  Mike was barely on his feet and moving towards Gale with murder in his eyes before Chaz pulled his fist back and put the full weight of his body behind the punch.  His knuckles collided with Mike's solid jaw.  Pain flared up and he was forced to pull away, cursing heavily. 

Chaz clutched his hand (pretty sure it was broken) to his chest.  "Get out of here," he growled at the man.  Mike was still half sprawled on the icy ground, rubbing his jaw and glaring.  Chaz was tempted to kick snow on him out of childish spite.  Instead, Chaz just  shook his head and turned back to Gale.  "Are you ok?" he asked.  The irony of asking a man who'd just kicked someone twice his size in the chest if he was ok, completely sailed past Chaz. 

Placing a hand on the back Gale's shoulder, he guided the blonde towards his door.  He unlocked his door and let them both in with one last mistrustful glare at Mike's back as he slouched away.  Chaz shut the door and just stood there for a second, quiet and thoughtless.  Then the pain in his hand occurred to him.  He cursed and leaned back against his own front door staring at his hand in  disbelief.  Was it turning black and blue already?  He dropped it and swept his gaze up and down Gale's black-clad body, wishing he could seen beneath the bulk just in case he really wasn't ok.  "I'm so sorry about that," Chaz apologized profusely.  His indignation about Gale putting his nose in where it didn't belong vanished, replaced entirely by concern.

Gale was stunned, silent, and concerned. He would wait until Chaz made his first move to close the distance between them, and with a much more gentle touch he took hold of Chaz's wrist.

"Oh Chaz..." The knuckles were for sure sprained if they were not broke, might have even been fractured, and the dark colors they turned made him hurt for his darling. "Honey...you can't punch a man with such a tight fist." He spoke gently as he pulled Chaz over to the little sofa. He took out his wand, waved it in a circle motion and froze some of the water in the air until he was able to capture it in his scarf to be wrapped around his fist.

"Goodness, I could have handled him." He smiled sheepishly, admiring the memory though. It was endearing that Chaz was so protective, but with that memory came the way this Mark dare touch the darling artist...

"I'm fine. I'm not the one bleeding. Well...anymore." The rose was forgotten on the table, his blood had dried, but seated there on the couch beside Lawrence made him not want to move again. "Here," He said wrapping the icepack around his knuckles. "I'm worried it's broken." Gale grinned despite the situation, and looked Chaz in face,

"Thank you, by the way. Don't think I've ever had anyone fight my fights for me. Especially when I've been such a jerk."

A rare but earnest blush grew on Chaz's cheeks.  He ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand.  It felt strange, wrong to be doing it with his off hand.  He confessed, "I don't know what came over me.  The way he was talking and then he started insulting us, one thing led to another and then all I wanted to do was punch him.  So I did!"  Chaz gestured to emphasize his point and winced when he jolted his hand.

Gale wrapped his scarf filled with conjured ice around his fingers.  It was black fabric with a decorative fringe on the ends and it suited Gale.  Not him so much, but he wasn't complaining since it was Gale's scarf and Chaz was getting to wear it.  Sort of.  He had to break his hand to get here.  "Well," he said ruefully, "I suppose if it's broken then I'll learn my lesson about going around punching people.  I was always too friendly to get into many fights in school.  It's no wonder I don't know how to do it properly."

Chaz looked at Gale, who was still holding onto his icepack-covered hand.  With his left, he reached out and tilted Gale's chin up so he could look into Gale's eye.  "Let's face it.  You were a bit of a jerk but I overreacted like a little girl.  I didn't have any right to jump into your love life any more than you had a right to jump into mine.  So, as far as I'm concerned, we're even now.  I say we just go forward from here with a clean slate."  Chaz smiled and thought about kissing him but he refrained.  A clean slate, he reminded himself.   He couldn't assume anything. 

Leaning back nervously, Chaz caught sight of the rose beside him on the couch and jumped on the opportunity to change the subject.  He cleared his throat.  "Was that for me?  I should probably... get a glass of water or something."  Chaz stood up uneasily, smoothing his hands down his thighs.  He grinned uneasily and made to step away, nervous and uncertain all over again.

"I don't know what came over me.  The way he was talking and then he started insulting us, one thing led to another and then all I wanted to do was punch him.  So I did!"

Gale smiled so brightly he almost laughed, the confession from Chaz was precious, and very endearing. He certainly couldn't deny it made him feel like a rare jewel that someone would go out of their way to defend him, but he couldn't allow it happen again. Once he wrapped Chaz's hand he kissed the only bit of exposed skin on the back of his hand that he could and held it with both of his hands.

"I'll teach you. Can't have my Knight breaking bones every time I'm in a bar fight." Gale spoke as though it happened often, and curled his legs beneath him. Now came the hard part, the truth--he hated to feel as though he let Chaz down, but at the same time he didn't want to let Chaz go. He could bare the force of the blow.

"Let's face it.  You were a bit of a jerk but I overreacted like a little girl.  I didn't have any right to jump into your love life any more than you had a right to jump into mine.  So, as far as I'm concerned, we're even now.  I say we just go forward from here with a clean slate."

Suddenly, Chaz seemed very nervous, and Gale wondered if he had another confession to make. He wondered if there was something he wasn't telling him, or if there was something that he needed to get off his chest. Gale didn't know what it was, but when Chaz instantly became aware of the rose he knew that he was nervous about something.

"Chester..." Gale exhaled when Chaz stood, and followed. Like a lost puppy he wasn't about to let go of the hand that kind to him. Instead, he took Chaz's good one--stopping him in his tracks, and pulling him back. He wrapped one arm around Chaz's hips.

"Don't, I'll get it." Gale closed the distance between them and pressed his palm over Chaz's heart to soothe the worry there, "And if it's too late? If the flower has wilted? Well..." He smiled sheepishly again enjoying the way he had to look up to meet Chaz's eyes, but watched the pattern he was tracing over Chaz's shirt. Gale lowered his face to press his cheek to Chaz's shoulder, and closed his eyes enjoying the warmth.

"I'll buy you another one. One for every day of the week if it meant you really did forgive me." When he brushed the tips of his fingers over Chaz's sternum he felt the coin and seemed surprised. He tried to hide it when he lifted his face to look him in the eye again.

Gale was wrapped around him again.  He was warm and solid and smelled the same he had the last time they'd been this close.  The soft, sweet smell of honey pervaded everything.  With his nose resting right against that silver hair even the smell of spices standing here in the doorway to his kitchen couldn't override it.  Perhaps it even complimented it in a way.  If his rather poor nose and even poorer taste could be trusted.

"I'm afraid I make a rather poor knight," Chaz murmured self-deprecatingly.  "I suppose it's a good thing I'm so likeable."  He chuckled at this but it was in no way less humorless than his previous statement.  There was a great deal of self doubt in him since Malcolm but he managed quite well despite it.

His voice got deeper and more serious as he turned his attention to Gale and the self-doubt he found there.  "I'll forgive you under one condition.  You have to agree to forgive me.  My actions at the party were horrible and I'm sorry.  If – "  He took a deep and shuddering breath.  "If you're still interested, which I'd like to think you are considering how close you are right now, then we can just agree to forgive one another and concentrate on moving forward."

Just as he said it, an impatient mrow interrupted their quiet moment.  Chaz kept his arms around Gale but pulled back just far enough to look over.  His long haired, pure grey cat Aphrodite was sitting on the top of his counter island glaring at them.  Chaz sighed and gestured wearily at the goddess.  "That's Aphrodite, in case you were wondering.  She doesn't like strangers in my house any more than you do so don't be offended if she's not overly fond of you.  But she's my darling girl.  Got me through some dark times."

"I'm afraid I make a rather poor knight," Chaz murmured self-deprecatingly.  "I suppose it's a good thing I'm so likable."

Gale was nearly giddy with how much he wanted to argue that, and his surprise turned to admiration quickly.

"You are a great knight, and..." His spider like fingers ran around Chaz's ribs to fall behind the small of his back, and he tried his best to mask a blush. "It was really hot." The confession was made up through his lashes, and through the biggest grin that he tried to fight by biting his lip. He flushed and looked down bashfully, amazed that he'd said such a thing, but it was the truth! Chaz had that protective look about him when taking down Mark.

"Let's just start over. Move forward, and maybe into your be--"

Kitty. There was a kitty.

Mrow

"Hi there," Gale pulled from Chaz to say hello to the pretty cat, and ran his hand over her spine. "Oh Chaz she is beautiful." He picked Aphrodite up and cradled her in his arms, scratching the underside of her stomach as he turned back to Chaz.

"Daddy hurt his hand, but we'll get him fixed up. I was going to take him to dinner, but it might be safe to wait til tomorrow." 

The smile that grew on his face was so big that is showed all his teeth.  There was even a pinch in his cheeks but he didn't care.  He was quite thoroughly happy and couldn't stop smiling.  Hot.  Gale said he was hot.  Well, he'd said that leaping into the middle of a fight was hot, not him personally, but he would take it any way he could get it.  Coming from quiet, shy Gale it felt like an important declaration.

This was of course one of the reasons Chaz was so keen to hear what Gale said immediately following the admission.  But of course his wretched cat had to steal the show and then completely prove him wrong.  Aphrodite not only allowed the contact, but actively enjoyed it.  Was she purring?  Chaz shook his head and tickled her exposed belly as he passed.  "I still have that ogre costume charm, just so you know," he told the ridiculous animal.

"Well, I can make you something for dinner if you're hungry."  Chaz opened one of his cupboards and peered disappointedly at some of the boxes of flavored rice and pasta.  Dreadfully uninspiring stuff unfortunately.  He turned back to Gale who was still cuddling and lavishing his already spoiled cat.  "I don't have much.  Maybe we could go and pick up something.  Or, you know, if you don't mind we could just..."  Chaz gestured to his cupboard pathetically.

He shook his head, a small frown appearing there that had nothing to do with Gale or the cat.  His hand was throbbing and it hurt a lot.  The tension was beginning to cause a headache on top of everything else.  Chaz crossed his small kitchen, which was only two steps, and retrieved a pain-killing potion from a shelf.  His hand was useless though, he couldn't unstopper it.  He gave an exasperated sigh, put it down, and said wearily, "I have a healer friend I can go see.  I'll owl him in the morning."

"No no no, you don't need to cook anything. I won't stay that long, but I--" He stopped watching Chaz try to undo the potion bottle and instantly frowned. Placing the pretty cat back on the counter he moved to help his friend, and undid the lid for him. He wouldn't hand the potion just yet, but stared up at Chaz again.

"Maybe we better go now." Concern filled his eye, as he took up Chaz's hand and started to undo the wrap. The skin was dark, but it wasn't black yet. "I'd like to see what it looked like without the swelling first. But honey...if you are in this much pain now?" He watched the way Chaz's forehead wrinkled with the tension, and his heart broke.

"Chester..." He frowned, and moved Chaz to take a seat at his little kitchen table. He felt the heat roll over his spine and shrugged from his coat. Beneath he wore a very formal outfit, one that wasn't his normal. The tailored  top came from Darian's store, the pants fit him well, accenting the stone like structure beneath. Gale seemed much larger when his clothes fit, short, but still very stout. Beneath the fine fabric of his shirt were muscles much like marble, and as strong as a northern wind. He could/and should have been the one to take on Mark/Mike, but he still couldn't help the warm feeling that crept in when he thought of Chaz defending his honor.

"Let me wrap it right, and I'll cook you something to eat. You've got flower right?" He could make a soup, he was certain with the rice it would turn out alright.

"You are going to have me worried now." He gestured for Chaz to take the pain medication, and wondered if it had the same side effects that it always had on him. He grew sleepy with every dose, and normally didn't make it to dinner. From his boot he pulled a dagger, a deadly looking thing that cut his scarf down the middle so that he could make a better bandage out of it. "We'll wrap it, and then put more ice on it. And go to St. Mungo's in the morning?" He wondered if the handsome man he met at the pub the other day would be there. He liked his demeanor, and would trust him to care for Chaz.