This is a Valentine's day gift for the most wonderful person on the planet who I love with all my heart. Kisses, baby.

Flowers for my Valentine

Christophe stared up at the ceiling, scowling at nothing in particular. This wasn't an unusual sight in the brooding French teenager's room, but the reason for the scowl was.

Christophe DeLourne was in love.

Yes, you heard me right, Ze Mole, infamous spy and mercenary extraordinaire, was completely besotted with some pompous British beetch who couldn't get his head out of his own ass long enough to notice.

And, let me tell you, Christophe was not subtle about his attempts at making him notice. So far this week he had pushed him against a wall and told him he was his bitch now, accosted him in the showers after gym, and locked him in a closet with him in an attempt to start the more physical side of their relationship.

None of it had even fazed the bastard! He had either laughed it off or ran away, leaning Christophe confused and secretly hurt. But today was the day, today was Valentine's day and if this didn't get Gregory naked and on his back nothing would.

Kenny had laughed at him, earning him a shovel in the face. He had explained that romance wasn't exactly Christophe's style.

The shovel was a good tool in reminding Kenny that he was, in fact, French and that anything concerning love could be his style if he wanted it to.

Kenny had hastily agreed to help him and their plan was soon underway.

Gregory looked around the dark gym warily, wondering why on earth Mole had called him here…well aside from the obvious desire to molest him the other boy had shown here lately. It was rather amusing to foil all of his attempts, especially since he wasn't exactly objecting to the attention.

Suddenly he was blinded as all the lights in the large room clicked on, flooding his pupils with beams of bright light. "What the bloody hell!" He growled, shielding his eyes.

Christophe watched from the bleachers, vaulting over the railing around the court and strolling towards Gregory with his hands in the pockets of his cargo pants.

"So, we seem to be at a crossroads." He said, pulling the blinded boy to him and brushing his lips over the soft skin of his neck. "You are currently unable to geet away from me and you 'ave somezeeng I want. So you eizer geeve eet freely or I am afraid you weel 'ave to face the consequences."

"What could I have that you want, Mole?" He growled, trying to struggle away but not being able to do much damage. His eyes had adjusted, but now he was securely held in Christophe's strong arms and, as he had said, unable to get away.

"Why, Gregory! Surely you 'ave figured out zat I 'ave been tryeeng to woo you for at least a week now." He said, feigning surprise. "Come now, all I want ees one leetle date. After zat eef you steel do not want me you can go on your merry way weezout me buggeeng you." Not exactly true, but you had to break a few eggs to make an omlette.

Gregory sighed, he had really thought Mole was only after sex. He wasn't sure whether to be glad or disappointed that this wasn't true. On one hand, a relationship could mess both of them up both emotionally and professionally. On the other hand it could be a good thing, right? It was what he had secretly wanted for awhile now.

"Fine, one date. That's all. When can I expect you to pick me up." He asked, all business but secretly nervous on the inside.

"Now." He grinned, throwing the blonde over his shoulder and dashing out to his jeep, throwing Gregory into the passenger's seat and speeding off towards their destination.

Gregory was quite confused when he was hauled out of the car about an hour later by the same shovel calloused hands that had put him there in the first place. Where he was or what they were doing he had not a clue, but he was willing to bet it would either be painful, sexual, or both. That was just how Ze Mole was expected to work.

He was pleasantly surprised when he was led to a warm little cabin deep in the woods with a cheery, homey feel to it, a fire roaring in the fireplace, and two warm mugs of hot cocoa on the pine wood table. He looked back at Christophe, about to make a surprised comment when his coat was lifted off of his shoulders and put on the rack. He was lead over to the table where one of the chairs was pulled out for him. Who knew he could be such a gentleman?

He wanted to look at his cocoa warily and ask if there had been anything unusual put in it, but the smile the Frenchman gave him was just so charming that he took a small sip of it without even thinking. And it was good too! Just the right amount of cinnamon and…was that peppermint?

He finished the whole mug, smiling and enjoying the companionable silence that rested over them like a familiar blanket as they both let the warmth from the fire and the drinks chase away the February cold.

Christophe got up from the table, beckoning him to follow as he made his way into the living room to sit on the rug in front of the fire. Gregory followed and went to sit by him, but was pulled into Mole's lap. A faint blush crossed his cheeks as he cuddled down into the strong body beneath him.

He didn't know how long they sat there like that, wrapping themselves in the warmth of the fire and each other, hearts as warm as their bodies. Soon enough, it had to come to an end. It was getting late and dark outside and the fire was beginning to die down. Gregory looked pleadingly at Christophe, willing the day to not end.

Christophe just smiled a secret little smile and got up, holding his hand out to Gregory to help him up. He took him back into the kitchen, grabbing both of their coats and helping Gregory into his before putting on his own. Gregory sighed sadly thinking they were going home now.

Once again he was pleasantly surprised when, instead of leading him towards the car, he was lead into the woods that surrounded the house. He walked close to Christophe, not knowing what was out there, but also because it was cold. After what seemed like an hour, but was in fact only ten minutes at the most, Christophe pulled back the boughs of a pine tree to reveal a beautiful frozen lake with a gazebo sitting on an island in the middle. The whole thing was strung with lights and it looked like something from a book of fairy tales.

Christophe stepped out onto the ice and offered Gregory his hand, smiling that prince charming smile of his. The blonde flushed and took the hand, stepping out onto the ice.

His cheeks were red from the cold and the warmth of Christophe's hand in his and his heart was fluttering as he was led across the ice to the gazebo where candles, a bouquet of snow drops, wine, and a small velvet box were waiting on the table.

This chair, too was pulled out for him, though he was allowed to keep his coat. The snow drops were handed to him and the wine was poured into two glasses. This he didn't even question, he doubted that Christophe would forgo spiking the hot chocolate to poison the wine. Besides, the French were very serious about their wine.

His eyes kept coming to rest on the jeweler's box, wondering what in the world could be in there. He eventually shrugged and rationalized that he would find out soon enough and let his eyes wander back to rest on Mole's face. He blushed when he realized he was smiling that fairy tale prince smile again and, dammit, Gregory was no one's princess!

Gregory was just about to wipe the knee wobbling smile off of his face when he reached for the box. His eyes widened and his pulse sped up in anticipation. He held no hope of something as monumental as an engagement ring, and had no clue what he would say if that was, in fact, what it was.

Luckily, he wouldn't have to make that decision yet. When Christophe opened the box, it revealed a snow drop wrought in silver hanging from a delicate silver chain. Not exactly something a teenage boy would normally consent to wearing, but beautiful anyways.

Christophe got up and looped the chain around Gregory's neck. The blonde vaguely realized that Christophe could easily strangle him like this, but as soon as the thought came it had passed again and the necklace was resting lightly on his skin.

They finished the wine and headed back into the cabin, sitting in front of the banked fire until the early hours of the morning, when they fell asleep in each other's arms under a big, fluffy eiderdown blanket.

The next morning Gregory woke up in his own bed, oddly cold despite the blankets wrapped around him. It registered in his hazy mind that maybe the chill wasn't from lack of blankets and rather from lack of a certain body next to his, but he pushed that thought out of his mind. Besides, it had all obviously been a very good dream.

He stretched and yawned, crossing over to the mirror to brush his teeth and hair. He was about to grab the hairbrush when a glimmer of something in the mirror caught his eye. There, resting in the hollow of his throat, was the silver snow drop.

He gasped and clutched at the sink. So it had all been real? It wasn't just a dream? But then why was he at home alone instead of in the cabin with Christophe?

He sighed and resigned himself to having been played. He opened the medicine cabinet to grab the tooth paste and practically jumped when he came face to…note with a sticky note. He stepped back so he could read the words and smiled to himself. Obviously Christophe knew his morning routine too well.

When's our next date?

He smiled and tucked the note into his pocket. "Anytime you want, love. Anytime you want."

I do good, yes? Pour mon Coeur, Je aimerai toujours et toujours. Bonne fete de St. Valentine.