Author's Note: To one of the sweetest, most hardcore-Mets fan girl I've ever met, with all my love. Merry early Christmas, Missa!

Providence --

You and I were made to get love right.

-- Melee, Built to Last.

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It was not just fate that he was slightly younger than she with all the innocence of an adolescent; Lenalee always wanted to care and protect someone else after she realized she usually received all the loving. She desired to bestow her affection and attention to someone who was deserving and humble enough to accept it. Kanda was too proud, and Lavi was too callous. Allen was broken and allowed her to mend the pieces -- she adored him for it.

It was not just fate that he loved to eat; Lenalee had wanted to try out some new talents even before he came and when Jerry winked at her and offered some cooking lessons, she accepted without hesitation. Of course, it was after Allen arrived that she found herself more and more interested in the impeccable measurements and timings than the cleanness of the kitchen. Still, the flour on her nose and the chocolate staining her skirts were well paid for when she watched him devour her chocolate-filled croissants with certain eagerness.

It was not just fate that his hair was messy and unruly; Lenalee was perfect and immaculate and whenever she got the opportunity, she would attack him with a brush and some hairstyling products. Nothing else worked in the end, although Allen looked adorable with slicked back hair (he insisted that it didn't look good on him). His hair remained carefree and tangled and she didn't complain ever again after she found out how much fun it was to fist her fingers around the strands as he kissed her.

It was not just fate that he contained a brighter hope than she had herself; in the dark corridor of the Ark with everyone seemingly falling apart, he took her face in his hands and promised that they would all go home with unusual seriousness and determination. When he smiled gently and commented on her failing strength, she realized that she now had to look up at him and wondered how she could've missed his growing up. They could read each other, in that fleeting second, and fueled each other's flames.

It was not just fate that their Innocence simultaneously acted to protect them; Lenalee and Allen had always connected in more ways than one. When both were in the running to be the acclaimed Heart of Innocence, they both prayed for each other and asked God that the other not be the recipient, because He knew, he or she had suffered enough for His sake.

It was not just fate that Allen's weakness morphed into strength at the same time Lenalee's hope withered; when his new form of Innocence crushed the sinister butterfly to the rim of her chair, she felt a balloon of pride and love and anxiety for his safety rising to her throat in the form of tears. She could do nothing, and he could do anything, but she would not let him die.

It was not just fate that they had each other on the long missions and the late-night nightmares. They knew the ordeals all too well after going through them themselves and when they heard the soft sniffles and saw the pained expressions, they would both go out of their own way to comfort the other. Because they understood each other to a certain point, cursed eye or not.

It was not just fate that they found each other physically attractive. After a full meal and a fun conversation with the Chinese exorcist, Allen would discover that he enjoyed the way she looked in the glow of the setting sun. She, of course, would already be aware of her own reception to Allen’s attractive qualities, since women always seemed to be more aware of things. And of course, everyone except Allen would guess at the sexual tension between the two after the latter hit the age of seventeen.

It was not just fate that Lenalee had always wanted a child with clear blue eyes. Although her own purple was royal, Kanda's gray was commanding, and Lavi's green was compelling, she daydreamed of a beautiful boy with wild black hair and sky-colored eyes. Lavi shrewdly pointed out that Allen had blue eyes when she mentioned this desire to him, and she blushed a deep red before saying that it was because she loved the sky and its never-ending presence.

It was not just fate that they dreamed of each other. Even in nightmares, they would be able to see the other person clearly -- as if their minds and hearts dictated that the friend they loved so much deserved to be the center of attention even in virtual reality. It didn't make much sense, since nightmares were stuff of events to come and fear gripped their souls whenever they woke up in tangled sheets, but they accepted it for each other's sake in the name of love.

It was not just fate that he found her Innocence to be the most beautiful of all he had ever encountered. It was so Lenalee to glide across the clouds in an effortless dance to rescue and save. He loved her in the sky and on earth, but he found that he loved her most when the ugly marks appeared on her lovely legs and told him of her humanly struggles.

It was not just fate that Lenalee's tearful smile brought Allen relief; he had saved Suman Dark, she told him, with her slender fingers gently caressing his thin cheek with a love he almost forgot. Suddenly all the fears and regrets evaporated and he was left with an increasing joy that stemmed from the joyful tears she cried. And when the portal swallowed her whole and dragged almost everyone inside, he would still experience a deeper gladness of being able to protect her from death.

It was not just fate that he wanted to die in her arms if he had to die on the battlefield. He wanted to make sure that there would be no stench of blood or smoke, just the scent of her, filling his nostrils until he could see nothing but her, feel nothing but her. She would be crying, but she would still be so angelic, her hair silhouetted against the morning sky, or golden twilight. If he could, he would kiss her hands and her weeping eyes, her sunken cheeks, her tangled hair, her mangled mouth. The taste of blood would evaporate with the taste of her purity. And then his heart would heave and words would spill out of his blood-stained lips -- confession after confession until he could confess no more.

Hey Lenalee, I believe only angels can able to fly like you.

It was not just fate that God kept him and Lenalee from leaving each other. And in those still moments of time when they dared to remember – “Do you think this life is our reward?” – they would never question fate again.

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