Untitled By FanficGrrl
Send Feedback to: kishiria@canada.com

Untitled, by Fangrrrl

Garma asked Char to have dinner with him in his quarters on base, so Char dutifully went. He had a slight sense of dread about it though; the last time the two had met they had fought. Perhaps some time and distance might have healed those wounds, Char thought to himself as he went up the steps of the house which served as the base headquarters.

His ID was checked at the door and Char was waved through. Inside, the Georgian-style building opened into a large foyer with a marble-tiled floor and a staircase sweeping up one wall. A portrait of Degin Zabi stared across to the other wall. To Char's right was a music room with a piano, harpsicord, and other instruments. To his left was a closed door. Garma's orderly emerged from a door under the stairs and led him up to the third floor.

"Second floor is offices, fourth is quarters for His Highness's personal staff, third floor belongs to His Highness," the orderly said. "Here you are, sir. Enjoy your evening."

Char passed through a door into a reception room which had a fireplace on one wall, surrounded by antique chairs, a sofa, and coffee table. There was a grand piano of more recent vintage than the one downstairs. The windows on either side of the fireplace gave a view of green hills and the airfield. It was only a moment before Garma himself entered the room.

"Char, I'm so glad you could make it." Garma was dressed in jeans and an open-collared shirt. He crossed the floor to Char and the two young men embraced warmly. "You came here in uniform. Do you want to borrow some of my civvies?"

"No thanks. I'm so used to wearing this day in and day out that I feel wrong in anything else." Char removed his helmet and pulled off his mask and handed them to Garma.

Garma put the mask into the helmet and set the helmet on a table near the door. "I hope you can relax at least a little."

"I'm sure I will. Give me the nickel tour?"

"Absolutely. Dinner will take a few minutes, and they'll ring me before it comes up." Garma indicated the room around him. "Reception, as you can see. The piano's mine, not that I've had much time to play. To our right here," he opened some double doors, "we've got my dressing room, and through here, the bedroom." It was what Char expected, with a large bed and few personal touches beyond a photo of the Zabi family minus Giren, a framed oil painting of Zeon's main city, and a pile of books on the floor by the side of the bed. There was also a photo of Garma and Kishiria on the bedside table, both in casual civilian clothes.

"The bathroom is around this corner," Garma said, turning on the light. "The bathtub is huge and that's great, but the shower was an afterthought and it sucks." He switched off the light and returned to the reception area. "On the other side here, we've got a private study, which I only use a little, and finally through here's the dining room." This last was octagonal, with a cherrywood table and chairs as the centrepiece. There was a sliding metal door in one wall.

"What's that?" asked Char.

"Dumbwaiter. They'll send dinner up through there so we won't be disturbed."

They didn't need the privacy during supper, which they spent making small talk about their families and discussing the whereabouts of friends from school. Occasionally they drifted into discussing the war, but they caught themselves quickly and steered away from the subject.

Finally, they retreated to the reception room. Garma locked the doors and brought over a crystal decanter of brandy. He sat beside Char and poured them both glasses.

"To...what?" Garma asked.

"To a friendship that'll last until death."

"Here, here." They clinked glasses and drank. Char put his glass aside and loosened his collar. "We're not going to be seeing the servants, are we?"

"Not unless I ask for them."

"Good." Char slid down on the couch comfortably and leaned over to rest his head on Garma's shoulder. Garma put an arm around him. They sat in cozy silence for a few minutes before Garma said, "Listen. Remember that agreement we made, that we were allowed to date other people?"

"Of course."

"I've acted on it."

"Oh, so have I."

"So my sister's said. I've been seeing a woman too. We're pretty serious about each other except for one thing."

Char sat up. "What's that?"

Garma took his hand. "They say you never forget your first love. I've found it's true. This woman and I, we haven't....you're still the only person I've ever been with."

"If you want to sleep with her, you don't need my permission."

"No, I don't. I just wanted to give *us* one last chance. I love you very much, Char. I want to marry you."

"What about your father's opinion? You're a prince and you have to think about that."

"You're a war hero. My father would be thrilled. The people would go nuts, too. A royal wedding is just what they need right now to lift their spirits."

"What if you become monarch? Don't you need heirs?"

Garma sighed. "You are so 20th century, Char. I can make a niece or nephew my heir. Dozle has already provided me with one of those, and I know Kishiria wants kids. The important thing though is us, ruling together. It'd be great. *We'd* be great."

Char looked away, out towards the windows. "I'm only 20 years old, Garma. So are you. I think we're rushing things. Let's give it another few years."

"We may not have another few years!"

Char looked Garma in the eyes. "That's very true. I know that for myself, I have things to do before I even think about marriage. I'm sorry, Garma. I love you, but I have to turn down your proposal."

Garma released Char's hand and picked up his glass. Char could see the moisture at the corners of his friend's eyes. "Maybe I should leave."

"No. That's the last thing I want." Garma put down his glass and wiped tears away before reaching for Char. The two men embraced again, then their lips touched. Char closed his eyes, hating himself for being unable to resist the warmth of his friend's body, the softness of his hair between his fingers, the breath that mingled with his own.

"Will you spend the night with me at least?" Garma asked when they paused to get some air.

"I thought I might."

"You can leave your clothes outside the front door for my orderly to wash. He's very discreet."

They held hands and retreated to Garma's bedroom. They undressed matter-of-factly and Char tucked his inner garments outside the front door as indicated. He returned to find Garma already in bed in a darkened room lit only by a bedside lamp. Char slid under the covers and drew his friend into his arms. Garma clung to him tightly and Char detected Garma's wish to be sheltered. Char rolled on top of him, feeling Garma's slim, well-muscled body beneath his own. He took Garma's face gently in his hands and kissed him.

They made love slowly, with tenderness and regret. By three a.m. they were both exhausted and spooned together to sleep. As Char began to drift off, he took one last glance at the curve of Garma's neck and shoulder and thought, this kind of relationship will probably never come my way again. Marriage and children were for other men, not Casval Deykun.

His arm tightened around Garma's waist a little before he finally slept.