Pour mon coeur, I wish I could be with you for Thanksgiving! *blows a kiss*

Christophe looked up at the sky, hands in the pockets of his cargo pants, combat boots crunching over the snow. He smiled at the inky black expanse lit up with millions of bright stars. If only he could take the very stars out of the sky, he thought, then he'd really have something to bring home. As it was all he had was himself.

He hesitated at the door, breathing a deep sigh of relief at finally being home right where he belonged. But it wasn't complete yet, not until that certain person came running into his arms. He grinned widely and opened the door, the scent of food wafting out of the kitchen. He was confused. Why were there so many wonderful smells permeating the house.

"Gregory?" He called, heading towards the kitchen. He heard the sound of a dish clattering to the floor, running steps getting closer until the blonde threw himself into the Frenchman's arms. "Oh Christophe! You made it for thanksgiving!"

"Zanksgeeveeng?" He asked, confused.

"Oh yes, it's a big American tradition. You basically have Christmas dinner in November and gather with the ones you love to give thanks for everything good you have."

"Oh yes? And what do you geeve zanks for, my love?" He asked him, nuzzling his petit lover.

"A warm home, financial security, good friend, and of course the love of a wonderful man." He replied, leaning up to kiss his lips.

"Eef you lose all else, you weel always 'ave my love." He told him, smiling tenderly at him.

"Let's have dinner then, love." The blonde smiled at him, leading him into the dining room to where a beautiful, mouthwatering spread was set out. There was everything you'd see at a normal Thanksgiving dinner: yams, stuffing, cranberries, deviled eggs, glazed ham, buttered rolls, and of course a beautiful turkey.

They sat down, Christophe still looking very confused. "Why would you make so much?" He asked.

"Because we're giving thanks for the fact that we have so much to make." Gregory explained. At Christophe's odd look he added. "Don't worry, I don't really get it either. Like I said, it's an American thing." Christophe just nodded dumbly.

They dug into dinner, making small talk every once in a while, occasionally playing footsie under the table and grinning at eachother. Soon dinner was finished and they were safely tucked into bed, curled up together under the covers and well on their way to sleep.

"Happy first Thanksgiving, love." Gregory murmered into Christophe's neck.

"Appy first Zankgeeveeng." He replied sleepily.

"You never told me what you were thankful for, my love." He said suddenly.

"Me? I am zankful zat I am een ze one place weez ze one person zat ees perfect for me." He said, holding Gregory closer and rubbing his back until he slept.

Pour mon coeur, je t'aime tout les jours. Tu sais qui tu es.