Merry Christmas everybody!

Things have been crazy here, I turned 16 and saw Phantom of the Opera in London! (Irrelevant I know, but now I can totally die happy xD)

Now the Festive season's here I can finally get off my lazy arse and start writing again...*Tries to eat mince pie and swallows pen instead...*

Helena ushered Valentine into her trailer, after double-checking no-one saw her. He stood in the center and surveyed his new surroundings before sitting on the bed. Helena watched in a half amused blur as he bounced slightly on her bed, testing it.

Valentine turned and smiled at her, then lay back on the bed with a huge sigh of contentment.

'Beats the skip!' he told her happily.

Helena laughed and sat on the floor next to him. For a while they were silent, each contemplating the situation. Valentine reached inside his huge white coat and drew out his mask, jamming it onto his face.

'That's better.' he breathed, as if he were sliding into a hot bubble bath.

Helena felt a small warm sensation spread in her chest; now he was Valentine. His mask blocked out his eyes, and therefore much of his expression, but somehow she felt that he was much more 'him' with it on.

He caught her staring at him. She hazarded a guess that he was frowning.

'What?' he said, 'You'd feel naked without your clothes wouldn't you? I feel exposed without it.'

'I wasn't-' Helena protested, but he had bounced up and was now inspecting her drawings. Helena felt a little embarrassed. She wanted to hear his opinion but suddenly she thought her sketches were crude. Anxiously she bit her lip, he turned around and smiled brightly.

'These are great! You really drew these?'

They spent at least ten minuets discussing Helena's artwork, which places were what and who was who. It was like looking up old friends.

Valentine uncovered a sketch of himself, a detailed portrait that she had obviously spent several painstaking hours doing. Every thing was correct, even down to the creases in his coat. In his portrait he was juggling. The ghost of a smile forming on his lips, like someone trapped in a beautiful dream.

He felt himself blush, guilty at having seen something private. Hastily he stashed it into his coat before she saw, his breathing hitched in his throat.

'Oh, your tower...' came Helena's voice sadly.

Valentine started and came back to Earth. Helena was holding a drawing of his tower.

'What will happen to your tower if you're here?' she asked.

Valentine cleared his throat, trying to cover up the fact he was an art thief.

'I dunno, nothing probably. Ooooh, what's that?'

Helena followed his gaze and saw a small glint on the floor. Valentine walked over and picked it up, Helena recognized it as a fake jewel that must've fallen off her circus costume. Typical Valentine, lover of all shiny things.

'D'you like it?' she asked, giggling inwardly.

'It's pretty', he purred.

'Keep it.'

'Thanks!' he said, stuffing it inside his robe, Helena wondered how many times he must have lost things.

Valentine smiled at her and sat on the bed again.

'Yeah, so, the tower. I think it'll probably just stay where we left it, or it could go flying off again...'

Helena studied him, sorry that she was the reason he was so far from home.

'I'm sorry Valentine, I lost the Mirrormask, we can't get back.'

Valentine's head jerked up and he set about rapidly patting his coat like he did when he thought he'd lost the Princess' note. Helena frowned as he pulled out a silver object and flung it to her.

'It was in the skip with me, I'd forgotten I had it.'

It was the Mirrormask. Dumbly Helena turned it over in her hand, incredulous at what she was seeing. He had kept it?

For a while both didn't say a word, then Valentine rubbed his stomach thoughtfully.

'Got anything to eat?' he asked genially.

'Um, sure' Helena said, coming out of her pseudo-trance. 'Stay here, I'll get us something...'

She got out of the trailer after telling Valentine where the nearest bathroom was and suchlike. It all seemed so unreal, yet so familiar.

He was back.

Thirty minuets later, both Valentine and Helena were sat on the floor of her trailer munching through slices of Pepperoni pizza. Helena yawned, a warm muzzy feeling in her stomach.

'When is your birthday anyway?' Valentine asked suddenly.

Helena turned to look at him.

'A few days away, Saturday. Why?'

Valentine shrugged, 'You never mentioned it -you know- last time.'

'Well to be honest Valentine, we were a little busy last time, and it wasn't that important.'

Valentine was quiet for a while. Of course it was important, it was her birthday!

He thoughtfully chewed this, what was it called, pizza? It was certainly very tasty, better than whatever he'd eaten back home....

Helena closed her eyes contentedly and Valentine felt a hot jump in his stomach...or maybe it was the pizza.

Maybe he should do something for her, for her birthday. Something better than a bloody fast food meal anyway, maybe a proper party or something.

Valentine reached down for a slice of pizza. And found his hand clutched round something very definitely non-pizza shape.

He looked down sharply to find his hand holding Helena's. They had both reached for the pizza at the same time, and ended up holding hands. Valentine's breath hitched and Helena gasped. How very awkward.

Valentine snatched his hand back as though she were a spider or something nasty. Helena's face went very red as Valentine cleared his throat.

'So...' he said 'what's Pepperoni?'

Helena stared at him, incredulous, then found herself giggling. Valentine laughed along with her, it was a good release for the tension. He suddenly wished he'd said something cooler, more....suave. Now he felt completely idiotic.

Helena shivered as a cold breeze blew in through the window. Valentine put his arm around her, shocked by his own ease with her. She lay her drak head against his shoulder, and he felt his blush intensify behind his mask.

Valentine blinked, starting out of his doze.

'Helena?' he called softly.

She was asleep on his shoulder, they were in the same position they had been after the whole 'Pizza thing.' the last slice of which was lying soggy, cold and forgotten in the cardboard box.

Helena's breathing was light and slow, Valentine smiled slightly and picked her up. She was lighter than he was expecting and he carried her across the trailer and lay her down on her bed.

He pulled the cover up and tugged it over her, well, he didn't want her to catch a chill now did he?

Helena mumbled something in her sleep and settled into a more comfortable position. A lock of her brown hair fell in front of her eyes, which Valentine brushed aside lightly. A flare of tenderness made his face feel hot.

A sudden idea came into his brain. He straightened up. It was a brilliant idea, why had he not thought of it before.

'I'm a genius' he whispered to himself, rooting around for the Mirrormask. Holding it up he strode to the circular mirror on Helena's dressing table, he just hoped it would still work.

'Ok,' he instructed himself, staring intently at the mirror.

He slammed the Mirrormask onto his face.

A gentle rush of wind, and he was gone. Like a thief in the night.

Hope that was alright for you my friends. Valentine has gone to develop his 'oh so brilliant' plan. He's had a bit of a brain wave, I only hope it's a sensible one.

See you next time; where we will see our two favourite characters.....dancing?