At first, Dan counts the number of kisses Phil gives him. The first and second were on the forest floor, the third is in the kitchen with the sound of a pot boiling in the background, the fourth is in the garden with the sun shining down on the back of Dan's neck. Five, six, seven, and eight are handed over, and Dan gives nine, ten, eleven, and twelve right back.

Dan quickly loses track of all the kisses he's been given and that he himself has given. They're like stars; numerous and joyful, each one making Dan's life a little bit brighter.

In their cottage in the woods, Dan and Phil are peaceful. Life on Earth is far superior to life on Scara in Dan's mind, because here there are huge trees and brooks with cool water and Phil. Renolds is sandy and dusty and lonely, and Dan doesn't know if he'll ever go back.

Dan and Phil sit beside the brook, Moon sleeping on the grass beside them. The last days of autumn descend upon them and a chill resides in the air, the sun shining weakly on the Earth.

Phil fiddles with a piece of dead grass, the plant coming to life in his fingers. Dan watches, his head resting on Phil's shoulder.

"Phil?" Dan whispers.

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to go home."

Phil shifts so he can look at Dan. "To the cottage or to Scara?"

"Scara."

"You don't have to go back to Scara, do you?" Phil asks.

"No," Dan replies. "I don't think so."

"That's good." Phil presses a kiss to the top of his head. "I don't want you to leave."

Dan nods and scoots closer, wrapping his arms around Phil's waist. Phil pulls him close, resting his head on top of Dan's and exhaling.

"If you ever went back to Scara, I wouldn't be able to come with you," Phil says, his voice quiet.

"Why?"

"My life force is tied to this forest. I could leave, but... I could die. Or be a shell of the person I am now."

"Oh.  We'll stay here."

Phil chuckles. "I'm glad. I'm quite fond of this forest."

Eventually, when the temperature drops too much for it to be comfortable outside, Dan and Phil head back into the cottage with Moon. Phil gets a fire going in the stove, and once the kettle boils he makes two mugs of tea. Him and Dan curl up under a blanket and drink their drinks, watching and listening to the fire crackle while crickets sing their nighttime song outside. And, once their empty cups have been set aside, they move to their bed, where Dan curls up against Phil's chest and falls asleep feeling warm and safe.

~*~

The mayor of the town stands at the head of the table, jaw clenched and hands tightened into fists. He stares down at the wooden surface below him and huffs, starting to pace back and forth across the floor. The captain of the guard watches, following his movements with his eyes and his eyes alone.

"That... that... WITCH... needs to be dealt with. Immediately. He steals from our people, he doesn't pay taxes, he has no respect for OUR livelihoods, and now he has some... ACCOMPLICE with him," the mayor spits. "What benefits do we gain from his presence?"

The captain of the guard shakes his head. "We gain nothing, sir."

The mayor throws his hands up in the air. "Exactly! We get robbed and then he runs off into the woods! He's a witch, Captain, I'm certain of it. And, of course, witches must be dealt with."

"What would you like us to do, sir?"

"Take your men and hunt him down. Make sure to get his accomplice as well. I want them interrogated, and we'll figure out what to do with them from there."

"We've looked for them before and we haven't been able to find them," the captain of the guard insists.

"Go deeper into the forest. Look harder. He has to be in there somewhere."

"And what if we confirm that he is, in fact, a witch?"

The mayor's expression darkens. "We have ways of dealing with witches, Captain."

The captain of the guard bows, and a second later straightens up and salutes. "We shall carry out your orders, sir. I have many fiery young men in my squadron that are ready and willing to do your bidding."

"Wonderful. See to it that this is dealt with."

The captain bows again and turns on his heel, exiting the room swiftly. The mayor runs his hands through his grey hair, frustration and determination written in the lines on his face.

~*~

In the quiet darkness of their room, with the velvety blackness of the night sky starting to turn navy with the rising sun outside their window, Phil runs his fingers over Dan's hip and meets his dark, soft gaze. Dan's hand rests on the bed between them, a small galaxy emanating from his palm and swirling around his digits. It gives off just enough light that they can actually see each other's faces, which is good for Dan because it means he can see Phil's blue eyes twinkling instead of being shrouded in darkness. Moon sleeps at their feet, her head resting on Dan and Phil's intertwined legs.

"Phil?" Dan whispers, reaching out with his free hand and running his fingers over Phil's ear.

"Yeah?" the guardian replies.

"I'm worried."

"About what?"

Dan shakes his head a bit and pulls Phil closer. "Don't know. Just... a feeling."

"We're okay, Dan. We're safe," Phil insists. He presses a kiss to Dan's lips and squeezes his hip. "We're in our cottage with our wolf. The world can't get us here."

Dan smiles a little and absorbs the galaxy into his hand, reaching out and tucking his head under Phil's chin. Phil wraps his arms around the space boy and nuzzles his nose into his hair, letting out a soft sigh.

"Sleep tight, Dan," he whispers.

"Night," Dan murmurs back.