: This is my first Gundam fic...I liked the idea of these two, so I thought I'd give them a little moment. Short and fluffy...hope you all like. :)

Mobile Suit Gundam 00

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Feldt Grace stretched and rolled over for the hundredth time that night. Dreams – well nightmares really – of her parents plagued her sleep. Finally giving up, she her swung her legs out of bed. She only wore a thin tank top and shorts, but it wasn't like anyone was going to be up and about at – she squinted at the clock – 4:23 am. She opened her door and began padding down the halls to the kitchen. She used one hand to steady herself in the low gravity passageways and the other to rub the sleep from her eyes. She turned a corner and smashed into somebody's body, or rather, someone's very attractive chiseled bare chest. Her face flushed the same color as her hair. She didn't need to look up to see who it was. His height and the soft woody smell of his skin gave him away.

"You okay, Feldt?" Lockon asked, a hint of amusement coloring his voice.

"Yeah," she mumbled, slowly looking up.

"Why are you up so late…or rather so early?" he asked.

"Dreams," was all she would say.

"Your parents?"

Sometimes his insight was uncanny.

"Mmmhmm," she said, looking back down.

She wished she wasn't so weak. Lockon threw an arm around her shoulders steering her back down the hall.

"C'mon, I'll make you some hot chocolate."

She twisted to look up at him, meeting his kind, blue eyes.

A ghost of a smile touched her lips, "Thanks".

He grinned back at her, giving her shoulders a comforting squeeze.

"No problem," he answered.

The Ptolemaios didn't have a large kitchen per se, but it was cozy. Feldt stood awkwardly as Lockon prepared their cocoa. She was suddenly much more self-conscious of what she was wearing. If it bothered Neil, he wasn't letting on.

"Neil," she thought.

Ever since he had told her his real name, she had begun to think of him under both titles, perhaps even separating them. Lockon Status – pilot of the Dynamos Gundam and ace sniper. Neil Dylandy – a sweet, kind-hearted 24-year-old Irishman.

"Done," Lockon's voice broke through her thoughts.

He sat down on a bench, crossing his legs and holding both their mugs. She took a seat next to him, accepting her drink.

"So, you've been having bad dreams about your parents, huh?"

"Yeah," was all she answered.

"About their deaths?"

Her breath hitched…"Yes," she whispered.

"Sometimes, I dream about my parents…and Amy," he said softly. "I remember looking at what used to be my home – reduced to a pile of smoldering ashes."

"What do you do when you think of them like that?" Feldt asked, looking up at him. His blue eyes met hers and he took a deep breath.

"Try not to."

She looked down, "Oh."

Lockon put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her a little closer. Her bare shoulder and arm were tucked against his side as her cheek hovered next to his chest. She wanted to lay her face against him, but she wasn't sure if he would like that. He seemed to sense her discomfort, loosening his grip on her to peer at her blushing face.

"Um, would you like me to go put a shirt on?" he asked awkwardly.

She turned a deeper shade of pink, "Oh, no – it doesn't bother me. I mean – uh – unless you want to. If you're – er – cold or something…."

"I'm fine," he assured her, resuming his sideways embrace.

This time she rested her cheek against his warm skin, enjoying the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest while breathing in his scent. She briefly wondered if he knew how much she was in love with him. But he was ten years older than her, making a relationship (even in the future) unlikely at best. She shrugged off those thoughts. It didn't matter; she was here now in his arms. They sat like that for some time, quietly enjoying each other's comforting presence. In that moment – it was just them and the love they shared for their families and the bond between them.

"Maybe you just need to find something in particular to think about whenever you dream about them," Lockon said suddenly.

"Like what?" Feldt asked, finishing the last of her cocoa.

"Well, like…" he paused, looking contemplative. "Come here," he interrupted himself.

Feldt sat up, letting him turn her away from him. Then he pulled her across his lap, cradling her close to him like an infant. She giggled softly, tucking her knees in.

"Is this supposed to help?" she asked.

"Yep," he said with a grin.

Like she minded.

"Okay, now close your eyes and don't think about anything."

"Kay," she murmured.

"Alright, let's see. You're in the woods. It's nighttime. The moonlight is shining softly down through the treetops, turning everything a pale blue. You are wandering through the forest, following the faint sound of running water. The sound draws nearer as you continue deeper in. Suddenly, you're in a small clearing. At the center is a pool surrounded by rocks. A little stream flows down from the spring, gurgling its way over rocks and sticks. The moon is reflecting in its clear water. A nightingale sings her sweet song to you from a nearby branch. Crickets and frogs add to her melody. It's so perfect, that you couldn't imagine anything making this place more magical."

Feldt imagined Lockon joining her in this fairytale and mentally begged to differ. A small smile played on her lips as she imagined them both taking a midnight swim in the clear springs.

"It's perfect," she agreed, her eyes still closed.

Lockon smiled, pleased that he could bring some small comfort to her. This girl was so dear to him. Maybe it was the fact that they had both lost their families – or perhaps the way she needed him to offer her comfort…but the bond they shared was strong. If she were older, things may have been different, but he could still comfort and protect her now without feeling any guilt. Her quiet, steady breathing made him look down at her again. She had fallen asleep curled up against him. The warm breath the escaped from her slightly parted lips tickled his skin. She looked so innocent as she lay there – tucked away from the horrors of this war. He stood up slowly, lifting her gently and maneuvering toward the door. He floated them down the halls to her room. He pulled down the covers, laid her down, and tucked her in. She rolled over towards him in her sleep. He gave her one last loving glance before heading toward the door.

"Don't go," she whispered.

He turned to look at her. She still appeared to be asleep. He let out a small sigh – locking the door instead of opening it. Though he knew that nothing was going to happen (his intentions were entirely honorable), he didn't feel like explaining to anyone why he was there should someone come in. He went back to her bed, crawling in beside her. He threw a protective arm around her, pulling her close. He nestled his face into her hair, slowly letting sleep claim him. No matter what happened to them, he would protect her and his comrades with his life. Feldt sighed in her sleep, and he tightened his hold on her.

"No matter what, I'll always be right here," he whispered.

Except you're not....*crying uncontrollably* :*( But we still love you Neil Dylandy, you'll be forever alive in our hearts! And thank you for leaving an identical twin behind as well...even if he can't shoot as well as you. :)

Well, that's it folks, what did you think? I know...it's fluffy. :D