A/N: Last chapter! Hope you have liked this little romance… let's see if there's an happy ending…

Precious Gift

Chapter 4: Keeping

Robin had escaped to one of the palace's many aviaries, which were more or less wild gardens, netted in by a finely woven grids, creating huge domes. The domes, looking like wicker-work, were in fact made of the long grasses growing close to the water, which was sturdy enough to hold even through most storms.

Robin was hidden away in the enclosure containing small northern birds, like blue-tits, great tits, finches, wrens and many other species, among them, his own namesakes; robins.

Because of these birds, he had visited this place often when he was younger, and now, because he was going to the north, he had come by more frequently. He had to admit that he used to prefer the more colorful, tropical birds of paradise, and he was also, of course, very fond of raptors, but he had found that he quite liked the subtle beauty of these one's more dampened colors. They also seemed decisively more curious and cheeky then the other birds, and they usually made Robin smile. Not this time however. He sat huddled between a couple of rocks, half concealed beneath a large fern, and he was crying his heart out. Slade, his falcon, would leave him behind.

After almost an hour he had no more tears left, and, as a prince, he was used to acting, not sitting around crying. The shock had been too great this time, however, and he needed to collect his thoughts. He started talking to a robin, who had came to investigate why the boy wasn't handing out seeds, like he usually was.

"Why would he leave me? I don't understand… what have I done wrong?" Robin sniffed. The bird flitted closer and cocked its little head, the big black eyes looking at the teen curiously. Robin ignored it and tried to think of possible reasons. "He… he said I couldn't walk. Did he mean out to watch the falcons? He must have? But it's not proper for a recently claimed gift to exert himself like that, not on the day after! And we have stayed in the palace since then… This must be why he hasn't given me a new collar…" Robin mumbled and fingered his golden one, which was quite uncomfortable to wear for such a long time.

The bird chirped, wondering what was taking so damn long, and if he should fly off to hunt insects instead.

"…and what Wintergreen said, about my clothes… Slade said something like that too… men don't wear what I do, where he comes from. Men are strong… all his men are like that… he didn't bring any women with him… are women weak in his country? Does he think I'm weak, and can't walk for long? Can't make the journey? Does he think I am a woman?" Robin asked the bird, who was now getting rather pissed off, and started chattering back. "That's right, I'm not." Robin growled. "I might not be big and hairy, and I don't have to shave, but I'm a man, and I'll show him! He's mine and I won't let him go!" Robin pounded the rock next to him with his fist for emphasis, making the smaller robin decide that it would get mosquitoes for lunch instead of hanging around a clearly insane human.

Robin stood up and wiped his face with his hands. He had work to do.

Slade was slightly surprised when he didn't see Robin for the whole day. It had happened before, but the boy usually told him beforehand. In the early evening, he was out in the yard, exercising with his men, when a small figure joined them.

"Robin?" Slade gaped. The boy was dressed somewhat like he was, in trousers and a tunic instead of a robe. Slade even spotted a small robin in the same place his falcon was. The most eye-catching thing, though, was that he had cut his hair. It now just barely reached his shoulders, a bit shorter in the front as the boy had obviously cut it himself. Even though Slade thought it looked even better this way, it was still quite a shock.

"I am coming with you." The boy said, slamming the end of a slender staff down into the ground with an angry thud.

"What?" Slade asked, still a bit overcome by the sight.

"To your home. You are not leaving me behind. I heard. I will not stay here."

Slade swore sincerely under his breath.

"Robin, we'll talk-"

"No! You think I am weak? I'm not! You think I am a woman? Well, now I'm dressed as a man, and my hair is short like a man's. I will prove myself. I demand it."


"I will fight any of your men; I'll fight all of them. If I win, I can come?"

Slade hated it, but that was the only way out, so he took it. There was no way his little bird would even be able to lift a sword, so how would he fight? He didn't want to do this to Robin's pride, but it had to be done.

"Yes. Yes, if you win…" he stepped back. "Don't hurt him." He told his men. "Robin, if you fall to the ground, or if they scratch you so you bleed, the fight is over, is that understood?" Slade asked tiredly.

"Yes. The same for them?" Robin asked, causing a few of Slade's men to chuckle briefly. They liked the little waif, but this was a rabbit teasing the wolves, and that just wouldn't do.

"Yes, of course." Slade nodded. "Who will you fight?"

"I told you. All of them." Robin said.

"All right." Slade muttered. "Let's find you a sword or a knife, then…"

"No. I'll fight with this." Robin lifted the slim wooden pole, and now more men guffawed.

Slade wanted to turn his back on the whole thing. Sure, he had seen people fight with clubs and heavy oak staffs, when there weren't any other weapons around, but this was a stick. Though he didn't recognize the strangely jointed wood it was made of, it was clearly too thin to do any damage. It was like a switch; it might sting, but no more. Well. It would be over quickly, at least.

"As you wish."

"I may begin?" Robin asked.

Slade gestured to his men, and though some drew their swords, most only got in a fighting-position, as they didn't seem to think weapons were needed for this.

"Yes. You may begin." Slade sighed.

Then he got to watch his bird fly.

"I would step back a bit if I was you, sir." Wintergreen chuckled behind him, as the first of Slade's men hit the ground, groaning and clutching his stomach.

"What? How?" Slade asked, staring at the middle off the yard, were another one now was cradling a bleeding nose, and limping off to the side.

"Don't you remember the show last week?" Will asked giddily.

"What show? The dancing?!" they had seen elaborately dressed men and women performing slow movements, wielding, come to think of it, staffs very much like Robin's.

"Not dancing. Fighting. It is an ancient, ritualistic form of combat."

"You knew he could do this?" Slade asked, astonished, as he watched another three of his men hobble away from the main fight. Not all of his thirty men had joined in, some were cheering from the sides, but Robin had faced at least twenty, probably more, from the start.

"No, but most children are at least taught the basics, and, judging by the muscles on his body, and, I might add, the proof right before our eyes, I would say he knows a bit more than that."

"But… why hasn't he said something…or shown me?" Slade stared at the blurry form that was supposed to be his little bird. Several more men had left the brawl in just the few, short, seconds that he and Will had been talking, and, as far as Slade could see, not even one of them has yet to even touch the teen.

"We see fighting as something to brag about, be proud about. These people see it only as a last resort. Actually lowering themselves to fight, is shameful to them. That is why the demonstration we saw was shown in slow motion. Practicing is, naturally, not shameful, it is merely exercise, but flaunting it? They wouldn't dream of it."

"Seems like there's a lot of flaunting going on right now…" Slade muttered. Robin's 'stick' had proven to be very flexible, and the teen used it to soar through the air, while he let his feet do most of the actual damage. Whenever he landed, although he seemed to spend more time off, than on, the ground, the staff twirled in his hands, drawing a blurred deadly pattern in the air. Yes, deadly. Slade could see that Robin had perfect control, only causing bruises and a few bloody noses, just enough for his opponents to fall to the ground and thus be 'dead", but if he had hit a slightly different target, with a bit more force…

Robin spun around in the air, knocking over the last four men, as Slade watched. As soon as the teen's feet hit the ground, he brushed himself off, and walked over to Slade. The staff landed at Slade feet with a loud thump.

"There. I'm coming with you." Robin snarled.

"Seems like you are…" Slade murmured meekly.

Robin snorted and spun around, marching away towards the palace. Suddenly he twisted around, mid step. "And I can walk as long as you can! You are just being stupid!" he shouted, and continued.

"I'm so glad I taught him that line…" Wintergreen chuckled.

"But I just can't risk-" Slade started, but then one of the men coughed.

"Excuse me, General, but with all due respect; he won. We'll look out for him, right?" the man glanced around at his fellows, who nodded.

"Sure we will… damn, I thought he was just a cute little girly-boy…" another man grinned, and poked at his tender nose.

A third one prodded the staff on the ground, with his toe, like he was afraid it would fly up and hit him again.

"Wow." he simply said.

Slade felt both proud and worried.

"I'm going to go talk to him." he declared.

"I'm coming with you… I don't want you to make an ass out of yourself any more than you insist upon…" Wintergreen told him.

"Robin, you don't understand-!" Slade had found his bird in their quarters, and the discussion had been going on for a few minutes. Needless to say, the man was losing badly.

"You don't understand, Slade! I'm your Gift! You can leave your legs here, your arms, your eyes, but you can't leave me. You can't leave your heart!"

"But it's cold, and dark! The sun barely rises for half the year!" Slade threw his hands out in frustration.

Robin smiled a bit and shook his head. He knew he had won. He came up to Slade and snuggled into his chest.

"Then you'll be my warmth and my light." he whispered. "And I'll be yours."

"We… eat birds… and eggs…" Slade tried lamely.

Robin scrunched up his face.

"I know. I won't look. And may the winged goddess forgive you." he sighed. "I'm still coming. I'm coming with you to your terrible, hellish place were I'm sure to freeze and be forced to watch birds slaughtered, and I'll be very, very happy."

There really wasn't much else to say after that.

In bed that night, Slade ran his fingers through Robin's shorter hair.

"Is it ugly?" Robin asked.

"No… it makes you look stunning…" the man mumbled, tired after showing his Gift that he really did appreciate him. Over and over again. Said Gift had insisted.

"But not beautiful? Not pretty?" Robin raised his head a bit to look at his Master.

"Of course, you-"

"Oh, no! Should I cut it shorter?" Robin touched his hair in alarm. "I don't want to look pretty, you'll think I'm a woman again!"

"Now it's you who are being silly…" Slade grinned. "You would look beautiful, no matter what you do, and I'm proud that you do. I promise I won't make the mistake of assuming beautiful means weak, ever again."



"Good." Robin smiled. His smile faltered a little, though, and he touched his own neck in a way which Slade had noticed him doing quite a bit lately. "Slade?"


"It… it is not proper for me to ask, but… may I please have another collar soon?"

"What? Yes, yes of course, I'm sorry, I didn't know I was supposed to get you one. You can have as many as you'd like, just tell me what you want-"

"No… no I can't do that, that is up to my Master to decide." Robin said firmly. "But please, more…manly?" he blushed.

"I'll make you one myself, is that proper?" Slade asked with a smile.

"It's very proper!" Robin purred. "Want to fuck me again?"

"Again?" Slade almost whined.

Robin giggled.

"Now you are the weak one, Slade."

Of course the man couldn't pass up a challenge like that…

"He will need clothes, you know. Warm clothes. Furs and wool and-"

"I'm sure that, between the two of us and the men, we can scrape together enough things for the trip, and we'll see about making new ones when we get home." Wintergreen told his leader sternly. It wasn't that Slade didn't know he had lost, it just took a while for it to sink in. Him losing didn't happen that often, after all.

Just then, Robin rushed in, his face flushed with excitement.

"Look! Look what my father gave me!" In his arms were a large stack of small, golden pelts, shining and soft. "It is… fenek… errr… fox of desert?"

"Those are very nice, Robin." Wintergreen nodded.

"Yes, I think I'll make a coat. Or cloak? Which would a man wear? Can you help me? Oh, I'm having camel-wool spun too, for under-clothes, and leather for boots, and-"

"See, Slade? Nothing to worry about…" Wintergreen grinned.

"Other than how to fit everything on the ship…" Slade muttered.

"Father offers to buy me a ship if we need one." Robin declared.

"Nonsense!" Slade snorted. "We'll manage without any help."

"Yes Master."

"I've led wars, I've plundered great cities, and I've protected my country my whole life. I sure as hell can arrange this."

"Yes Master."

"And besides, my ship is faster than any found here!"

"Yes Master."

"And stop calling me Master, you only do that when you think I'm being childish!"

"Master?" Robin grinned.

"Well spotted, sir." Wintergreen smirked.

Slade rolled his eyes.

"I should just leave you both behind." he muttered.

The last days were very busy, not only with arranging to have everything transported, but also fare-well feasts in abundance. Ulf had been officially adopted into the royal family, and didn't seem all too upset about staying behind for a year. In fact, the man couldn't stop talking about the birds of prey being kept in the city, and the new hatchlings he would train. Slade started to understand why the man wasn't married; there wasn't much room for anything but birds in that head of his. He would fit in here perfectly. Slade just hoped he could cram some knowledge about glass in there too.

The king had leant them a caravan of packing horses, both to make sure they would be able to bring everything comfortably, and to send his son off in style, but when Robin came up carrying yet another small chest, Slade put his foot down.

"No more, Robin, only what really need, remember?"

"Yes, but…"

"It's very pretty, but we don't have the room."


"That's final." Slade grunted.

"But, Master!" Robin complained and opened the lid. "We do need this!"

Slade stared down at dozens of carefully packed glass vials, filled with a very familiar substance.

"Oh. All right, we'll… we'll find the room."

Robin grinned at him, close to a smirk, actually, and swaggered off. The teen had taken to wearing pants, but they were very narrow, showing off his slim legs and pert butt to perfection. It was extremely distracting. Slade comforted himself with that Robin would soon be swathed up in several layers of fur, making him as formless as anyone else… furs were good for that… Robin stretched out on furs, though… naked… in front of the hearth in his chambers at home…. Slade shook himself out of his little daydream. The faster he was done here, the faster it could come true.

They left early in the morning, before the sun had risen, to be on their way before the worst heat would hit them. Slade noticed Robin shivering slightly in the cool air and sighed. If the boy was cold now

Robin was wearing the new collar Slade had given to him last night. The man had made it himself, out of the softest leather he could find, and he had carefully carved small , stylized feathers into the surface as decoration. The buckle was silver, not too big and heavy, and was rather elaborate. Slade had had to ask the royal gold-smith for help with it, but the design was his; a falcon, it's wings arched forward in a crescent shape, the tips hooking onto the wingtips of the opposite bird; a small robin, creating the clasp. Despite the bird's standings as predator and prey, it looked like the falcon was protecting the smaller bird, not hunting it. Robin had loved it, and if Slade didn't quite trust his words, he could see it in his eyes, even now, as the boy let a finger caress the falcon on his neck.

The week it took them to reach the shore and the cities there, was tough enough. They had had both sand-storms and freezing nights, but not once had Robin complained or shown any apprehension whatsoever. The boy had gotten riding sores on the inside of his thighs, and Slade only discovered it when they had snuck away after dinner one night, to be alone. He had scolded the boy then, telling him how dangerous wounds could be, and then he had dressed them carefully and made Robin ride side-saddle for the next two days.

Robin was not happy about having to do something 'unmanly', but he cheered up as he spotted the ocean for the first time… or rather…

"Look! Aren't they beautiful?" the boy cried, pointing upwards.

Slade glanced at the sky.

"Those are seagulls, what are so beautiful about them?" he asked, personally finding them rather ugly.

"Silly Master, they just are!" Robin chuckled and urged his horse into a gallop. Slade's first impression had been right, the boy really could ride, and that little horse of his was as fast as the wind.

Slade kicked his own horse into a run as well, and the two raced all the way to the shore. There Robin discovered seashells and was very upset that he couldn't bring them all with him.

The ship took a day to pack, and then they set off, the fifteen oars on each side helping the craft out into open water, where the sail was raised.

Robin did not like the first week at sea. It turned out he got terribly nauseous and spent much of the time over the railing, throwing up. It got better as they left the open water to travel north on a river, which, Robin had been shown on a map, would carry them almost to the border of his new homeland. It was just that it had looked so much closer on the map…

After seeing that Robin didn't have the stomach for the sea, at least not yet, Slade held a meeting with the men, and they decided to take the river-route instead of skirting the coast. It would cost them in tolls, but also be calmer an safer; the countries and cities demanding the tolls, also made sure to keep the waters as safe as possible, and pirates were dealt with quickly and mercilessly. They could afford the extra cost, as only a few items of the beautiful glassware they had brought along or been given as gifts, would be more than enough for the entire journey, and buy them fresh provisions to boot.

The men liked having Robin on board, well, after he stopped throwing up so much. This might be partly because their leader suddenly decided that the salted meat and dry biscuits which had always sustained them before, suddenly wasn't good enough. The small trading-boats which flocked to them from every harbor, therefore made good money, selling fruit, fresh water, still warm bread, cheeses and freshly roasted meat, to the great pleasure of the men.

Two weeks later, and Robin had gained his sea-legs, jumping on the railings and scaling the mast, like he had been born on a ship. He even insisted on taking his time on the oars the days the wind-gods wouldn't help them. Slade was torn between a will to protect and coddle his lover and the knowledge that he was, and needed to be, a man, and fit in to this society, if he was to survive. The hours at the oars, also added to the boy's toned upper body, making it even harder for Slade to look away. He would never be a tall, hairy, bulky man, and he was always going to be just slightly too beautiful, but that, Slade realized, made him just perfect.

They left the warmer countries and passed high mountains, some capped with snow, to Robin's great amazement. Then they entered the contrasting lands of great plains and huge forests. Robin had never seen so many trees, and was astonished by how big they were. Wood, in his country, was rare, and highly prized, usually imported, and almost only used for building ships and such, and Robin looked like he would faint as Slade explained that it was here used for fuel.

"You… you burn it?"

"We don't have wells of oil or the burning air you use to heat your glass-mills." Slade explained. "But we have plenty of trees."

Robin till looked like he thought Slade was slightly crazy, but he nodded nonetheless, he wouldn't question his Master. On this.

The only time Robin got scared, was when they had to cross the open water again, on the final part of their journey, because the autumn storms had started and the sea was rough. Those last few days would find Robin clinging to Slade in his sleep, convinced the waves and the wind would tear the man away from him at any moment. Slade smiled tenderly at him at those times, admitting to himself that he did like his role as the protector quite a bit, even though he hated that Robin was scared.

Their trip back had taken almost three months, about what could be expected this time of year. Robin only mumbled from inside the big roll of furs and blankets he had snuggled into during the night, when Slade tried to wake him up in the morning, but as soon as the teen heard his Master's next words he opened his eyes immediately.

"Robin. We're home. Wake up and see…"

Robin jumped to his feet, and, for the first time in days, he actually saw land. And what a sight it was.

"The trees!" he cried. "Look at the leaves!"

"It's autumn, the leaves change their color before they fall to the ground."

"They fall to the ground? But how do they get up again? Do birds fly them up?" Robin asked. He wasn't familiar with deciduous plant-life at all.

"The trees grow new ones in the spring." Slade smiled.

"Oh. Of course." Robin felt slightly stupid. "But… how do they know it is spring, then?"

"They… I don't know." Slade admitted, and then looked down at the curious pair of blue eyes and smiled. "I think the birds tell them, don't you?"

"Yes. Yes I do." Robin grinned. "So this is autumn, and then there's winter? And then spring? And then summer?"

"That's right."

"I can't wait to see them all!"

"I want you hear you say that when you are wading with snow up to your neck…" Slade muttered.

Slade's home, an estate like a cross between a fort and a large farm, was located half a day's ride up a river, and they arrived just before sunset.

Troops and riders along the riverside had made sure their arrival was expected, and Slade thought he could smell the roasting pigs from a mile off. He suddenly got slightly nervous, and, as usual, nothing went by his old advisor.

"Don't worry, they'll love him." Wintergreen smiled.

"They'd better." Slade nodded grimly, but then smiled.

He walked up to Robin, who was standing by the bow, staring at his new home.

"So, what do you think?" Slade asked.

"You have a whole palace made of wood!" Robin gasped.

Slade laughed.

"Well, firstly, it's not a palace, and secondly, see the main building? The whole first floor is stone. Only the second floor is timber."

"It's amazing." Robin breathed, and Slade couldn't help himself, he just had to kiss the boy, right then and there, ignoring the whistles of his men. They had probably seen, or at least heard, worse, during the trip.

As soon as they got on shore, Slade's household came to greet them, his sons at the fore-front.

Robin watched as a tall, dark-haired man, clasped Slade's arm firmly, with a big smile on his face.

"Father, so good to have you home."

"Good to be home, son." Slade smiled back, getting a similar greeting from a just as tall, just slightly slimmer, younger man with spectacularly blond hair which curled around his face like a halo.

"Father." the man smiled.

"Son." Slade smiled again. "Robin, I would like you to meet the prides of my life, my sons, Grant and Joseph. Boys, this is Robin, my lover. It's quite a long story, but I hope you will come to accept him as part of our family."

"So this is the exotic beauty the men reported seeing you kissing earlier…?" Grant grinned, his teasing smile very much like his father's. "Welcome Robin."

"Yes, welcome. Come, we have prepared quite a meal for you." Joseph's smile was even warmer, and Robin immediately decided that this was the one he would confide in first. Grant seemed nice enough, but he appeared stricter, for the most part, like his father, but the blond one, Robin suspected, had something else, perhaps from his mother, which Robin felt he could trust. He also liked the smooth, melodious voice of the man, and wondered if men in the north sang, like some did in his country. Maybe he would dare to ask Joseph that one day. For now he blushed, though, and quietly returned their greetings, keeping as close as he could to Slade. He was usually more sure of himself than this, he was very well aware of his high status, but he was suddenly overcome with shyness and a desperate need to be accepted.

"Let's go inside. Has the summer been good to you?" Slade asked, leading his new family member inside. He had been away for almost eight months now.

"Very. The harvest has been plentiful, and the animals are all healthy and fat for the winter." Grant said. "Oh, except for my cock, it died."

"Yours can do that?!" Robin exclaimed, staring at Grant's crotch in fear. It was very clear that Robin was afraid of losing one too, and not the one attached to him.

Everyone who had heard, burst out laughing, and it took a while for Grant collected himself enough to explain.

"No, no, thank the gods! A cock is another word for a rooster; you know… a boy-hen?"

"Oooohhh… good… I thought maybe they fell off and you grew new ones in the spring…" Robin muttered to Slade, launching another round of laughter.

"Would make for very boring winters…" Slade smirked.

They continued towards the main building, and soon the report of what had happened during the year so far, carried on.

"The trade has blossomed as well; we have made several journeys to the great isles." Joseph told them, "Oh, and Grant is getting married!"

"Shut up you little twerp!" the dark haired man yelled and playfully tackled his brother.

Slade sighed.

"They are grown men, Robin, trust me, they just don't act like it. Grant! Stop trying to duck your brother's head in the water-barrel and tell me about this amazing lady who seems to finally have caught you…"

"She's an island princess, father, can you believe it?" Joseph laughed, spluttering some, after his brotherly punishment. "I had to literary kidnap him, to get him home on our last journey."

"Well, my Robin here, happens to be a prince." Slade smirked. "We seem to have good taste in our family. You then, Joe? No lass caught your eye yet?"

Robin saw something like sorrow flicker through the man's pale blue eyes, as he shook his head and looked away.

"Joey and Tor are still playing married." Grant grinned. "I have told him it's time to grow up, but you should see the doe-eyes they make at each other, when they think no one is looking. And Tor spends more time in Joey's bed then his own."
Slade sighed and put a heavy hand on his younger son's shoulder, turning him around to face him.

"Son. I have been young as well, and you know about Ambjorn and me. It might have been lust, not love, but at that time it felt like I would die if we should part. But then I met your mother, and we had you. I can promise you that children will bring you so much joy in life, and I recommend you to get married, but that might not be a path for you. You might find that joy with Tor instead. As long as you are happy, you have my blessing."

"Father!" Joseph embraced his father fiercely, making Robin jump out of the way a bit, bumping into Grant.

"Well…" Slade's oldest son whispered to him, "I must say I'm glad gramps was able to talk some sense into dad, or we might not be here. And that would just be sad, wouldn't it? Come now, young prince, let's get away from all this mushy stuff and let me introduce you to a little something we call 'ale'."

Slade didn't remember his little daydream until he saw his lover, stretched out on the large bearskin, which covered the man's bed. He was naked, with hooded lustful eyes, and reaching out for him. Perfect. The man laughed as Robin hiccupped softly.

"Did you like the ale?" he asked teasingly.

"No-not the first mug…" the boy grinned, somewhat lopsidedly.

"I think we'll water it down a bit from now on…" Slade laughed softly, and nuzzled the teen's neck.

"My falcon…" Robin breathed as their lips met.

"My precious little bird." Slade answered. "Welcome home."

The End.

A/N: Now wasn't that a nice little love-story, huh? I hoped it warmed you a bit, because DAMN it's cold right now! Well, in Sweden it is… ;)

Oh, and if somebody noticed, I'm aware that the correct spelling is Fennec Fox, but, looking that up, I found that it's called so because of the Arabic word for fox is fenek, so I borrowed that for Robin's name for it…

I can picture like a MILLION scenes with Robin and Slade in this universe, and I kinda like the hints at other, untold, little stories, like Ulf staying behind to train his beloved birds, Grant and the princess, and, naturally, Joseph and Tor… I have nothing more planned for this right now, but there MIGHT be drabbles (I have stopped saying that I'm not going to continue anything, because, really, it seldom works out that way). As usual you are free to borrow this universe if you want, just tell me so I can read!

What now? I have nothing close to being published right now… I'm working on a darker story, I'm thinking of writing something funny to commemorate that "Delightful Drabbles" now has over 1000 reviews (!!!) + the 1000'th reviewer has naturally been offered a story, we'll see if she thinks of something… ;)

So, not completely SURE when you'll see me next, but I'll be around.

Oh, and I also want to write a third part to Black Sheep (just because I have a title for it) but I kinda need a good story-line or situation to base it on, since it (whines) kinda-sorta has to be an adventure-story… if you have suggestions, let me know!

All the best!