"What. What do you think about kids?" Lance pulled his legs up onto the bed and against his chest, and rested his chin on his knees. He could see Keith moving about in the bathroom, watch the light glint on his wet skin.

There was a startled choking noise from within the bathroom. Keith stuck his head out into the bedroom, mouth full of foam and his toothbrush clutched in one hand. "What?"

"Kids. You know, the things that look like miniature people. The very small ones tend to be loud and sticky."

"I know what kids are," Keith growled. He flicked off the light in the bathroom and came out into the bedroom. "I'm not an idiot. Have you seen my Tuesday boxers?"

"Keith. It's Thursday. Seriously though, what do you think of kids?"

"I think," Keith pulled on his boxers and climbed into bed, "that kids are nice. I think that they're fun. But I think that you and I," here he started to kiss Lance's neck, wrapping his arms around Lance's slim waist, "can have a lot more fun. Just the two of us."

But Lance pushed away, captured Keith's hands in his own and turned until they stared face to face. "Keith. I...I want to have kids."

Keith sighed and pulled away, already shaking his head. "Lance-"

"No, Keith. Listen to me. I want a family. I want to have a family. With you."

"Lance we can't."

"Why not?"

"Because." Keith sighed again at the look Lance gave him and got out of bed, pacing back and forth before his seated lover. "Because of what we are. Because we're soldiers."

"So?"

"So? Lance our job isn't like that of everyone else. Think about it. What kind of life would our kid have, moving all over the known universe? And what about our careers? Who would take care of our child while we're off fighting?"

"I'd quit. I'd stay home and watch our child."

"That's even worse! Lance, can you imagine the sleepless nights? Can you imagine waiting planet side while I'm off risking my life? Can you imagine if I died? No. I won't put a kid through that."

"Keith, this war isn't going to last forever. Someday, we're going to stop being soldiers. Someday we can be something else."

"I won't. I can't. I--Lance, I'm going to be a soldier for the rest of my life. I don't know how to do anything else! The only thing I can do is fight." Keith turned, begging with his eyes to be understood. "And someday I'll probably die--out there."

"Keith--"

"No. Lance, I'm sorry."

And that was the beginning of the end, or at least that's what Keith liked to think. Because the war on Arus ended and Keith moved on to fight another war, but Lance didn't. He headed back to earth, to Napa Valley in California and a vineyard. For a while they kept in touch. But then even that ended.

Now here it was, a twenty years and a lifetime later, and Keith couldn't remember what he was fighting for. So he went looking for what he had lost, which explained how he came to be standing on Lance's porch, but that didn't explain why. Keith didn't think he knew why.

Still, he was here and he knocked on the door of Lance's beautiful house in the middle of a beautiful vineyard. A pretty teenage girl answered the door, a wad of bubble gum in her mouth and headphones around her neck and an inquisitive expression on her face. Keith took a step back and wondered for a moment if he had the right house.

"You want somethin'?"

"Yeah." Keith fished the scrap of paper on which he had written Lance's address out of his pocket. "Um, does Lance Montgomery live here?"

"Yeah. Sure. Hold on." The girl pulled back and turned. "Pops! You got a visitor!"

"Hold on," Keith shivered at the muffled voice, "I'll be right there. Ask them if they'll wait, okay kiddo?"

The girl rolled her eyes and smiled. Keith smiled back and shifted uncomfortably, wondering whether it would be considered bad manners to take off now and postpone this meeting for just one more day. Except if he left now, this whole episode would feel too much like his old days of ding-dong-ditch and at nearly forty-five he felt a little too old and tired to run away. Besides, he was still getting used to his prosthetic hip.

Then, suddenly, it didn't matter because Lance was suddenly there, looking a little older but just as beautiful, and wiping his hands on a dishtowel. Keith smiled, the tentative, special smile he reserved for Lance. Lance just looked surprised and a little worried and he pushed the girl back into the house with in an absentminded manner.

"Lance."

"Keith." Lance closed the door and leaned against the heavy oak plank, one hand gripping the door knob so tight that his knuckles went white. "What are you doing here?"

"Sick leave." Keith smiled a little and lightly tapped his hip, and Lance nodded in understanding. "I got a little too close to enemy fire." Keith's hands unconsciously worried at the scrap of paper that he held. "Can...can we go somewhere and talk?"

"Sure." Lance opened the door again and tossed the dish towel to the girl who hovered nearby. He closed the door again, after a quick "I'll be back soon", and followed Keith down to the rental car. They slid in and Keith started the car, pulling out of Lance's driveway and onto the dirt road that led back to the main drag.

"Where do you--"

"I need to go look at the vines in the south vineyard. I'll show you how to get there."

Keith nodded and kept his eyes mostly on the road, except when he watched the sun glint off of the golden ring on Lance's hand.

"Here." Lance pointed and Keith turned and stopped the car. He sat still for a moment, listening to the car 'ping' as the engine cooled. Lance unbuckled his seat belt and stepped out into the afternoon sun, walking around the car until he reached Keith's door, which he opened and leaned in. "Come walk with me."

Keith nodded and stepped out and for long moments the two strolled between the vine strung trees.

"So you got married."

"Yep. Sixteen years this September." Lance smiled and turned the ring on his finger.

"So who is he--"

"She."

"She?"

"She." Lance smiled again, and rubbed the back of his head. "Would've thought, huh?"

"Yeah. So the girl--"

"Is mine. Her name's Sarah. She's fifteen and at that age. You know. Thinks the world revolves around her."

"Yeah." Keith smiled and nodded because he really had no idea what Lance was talking about. When he was fifteen, he was lying about his age and living in a foxhole and hadn't had time for teenage self-centeredness.

"We have two boys, too. Here," Lance fished out his wallet and opened it up to a thick collection of pictures. "Daniel and Matt."

Keith made the appropriate appreciative noises and returned the wallet. "It's a nice place that you have here. Looks like you've been busy."

"Yeah." Lance smiled and he seemed to glow. "We like it. Well what about you? What've you been up to? Settled down with some nice guy yet?"

"Nah. You know me. I'm just a little too busy to make a relationship work."

"Yeah." Lance kicked at the ground and looked away. "I know you." They kept walking and Keith kept his eyes averted until Lance cleared his throat. "So what, uh, where have you been?"

Keith shrugged. "Here, there. Just got my first star a couple of years ago."

"Oh, hey, that's great!"

"Yeah." Keith put a hand on Lance's arm, halting him. "Lance..."

"Keith." Lance turned and for a heart stopping moment the world was nothing more than Lance's eyes. "I..."

"Shh." He stepped forward, pulled Lance closer, shivering at the feel of Lance's chest, Lance's arms, Lance's hair. So many years and he was still so incredibly in love.

"Keith...oh...I can't..."

"Shh."

And then they were kissing and it was almost like old times, except for the little things. Like the way Lance smelled. Gone was the arousing mixture of leather and spice and cheap shampoo. Instead there was earth and lavender soap and flour. He was broader about the shoulders and his hands were calloused. It felt a little wrong and maybe if he had been there when Time had wrought these changes, it wouldn't have been so disconcerting, so off-putting.

It was probably a good thing he was leaving.

The car ride back was silent, and for a moment Keith wondered if he should break the silence and tell Lance the real reason he was on Earth. He wondered if Lance should know about the disease he had picked up on one of the out-worlds, the disease that was eating his heart away.

No. He didn't think Lance needed to know that he was dying.

They pulled into Lance's driveway and Lance got out and smiled in the strained fashion of those who don't know what to do. "So. We, uh, we should do this again sometime. Give me a call. We'll...we'll have dinner. Or something."

"Yeah. Okay." Keith smiled back, and there was a bitter sweetness to the smile because he knew that this would be the last time he ever saw Lance.

And he thought that Lance knew that too.

So he got back into the car and drove away, planning ahead. Maybe he'd give Hunk and Pidge a call, take them up on their invitation to their house in France. He needed a little joy right now.

But he couldn't stop thinking about Lance. And in the end, Lance had really been the mercenary, the true soldier. Lance had known what he wanted, had known what to do to achieve his Sunday dreams of soccer games and barbecues. But Keith had had Sunday dreams too, mostly revolving around Lance and a bed (sometimes a sofa, sometimes a tub, sometimes just the floor) and a tube of lube.

He supposed he just wasn't strong enough to keep his dreams.

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