*There is violence at the end of this chapter, but I think most of us will agree that it's both *justified* and it could easily have been *more*.

~Silk

Sasha kissed her, his hands threading through her hair, which she wore loose, just for him. His dark eyes looked sad. He was more grateful than he could say for what they had shared over the past day and a half, but he hated the thought of leaving her.

Leaning his forehead on hers, he sighed softly. "I wish I didn't have to go back so soon."

"Me, too." Skye's light blue eyes shone brightly, perhaps too brightly, making him wonder if tears could be very far away.

The airport was the last place he wanted to be. Especially when he had real concerns about Kirk seeking retribution. Sasha had promised Skye that he wouldn't "hurt" Kirk, but his jaw clenched every time he thought about the arrogant student touching her.

"Promise me you won't go anywhere alone."

"Okay."

"I mean, it's probably not even a good idea to stay in your room alone. That's how it happened the first time."

"I told you, Beast, I can take care of Kirk."

"Are you sure I can't scare him, just a little?"

"Sasha…"

"Y'know, all I have to do is mention this to your dad or mine and wham! No more problem." What Sasha didn't say was there'd be no more Kirk. He was sure of that. Maybe Michael or Declan wouldn't *kill* Kirk, but they had ways of threatening people that he didn't even want to think about.

"Please don't."

"Then let *me* do something about him, Ange. Please?" Sasha didn't want to beg, but he was dangerously close to it. The thought of leaving her alone and unprotected did nothing to settle his nerves. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he knew he *needed* to act on these feelings.

"Well, well, if it isn't the Ice Queen and her consort," Kirk drawled from his vantage point. The tall Englishman lounged against Skye's door, stunning both of them that he dared to show his face in the girls' dorm once more. Now, more than ever, Sasha was glad that he hadn't left for the airport yet.

"What do you want?" Sasha asked coldly.

"I heard you were leaving. Just thought I'd finish the job you started. Thanks for warming her up for me."

"You son of a bitch!" Skye grabbed Sasha's arms before he could hit Kirk. He struggled briefly in her embrace, but he couldn't break free without hurting her.

Skye glared at Kirk. "I didn't think confrontation was your style, Kirk. By the way, how's the nose?"

Kirk shrugged off his nonchalant attitude and glowered at Skye. Sasha renewed his attempts to get loose. He was right. Kirk was after retribution and he was determined to make Skye pay for what she did. There was only one way that Sasha would leave now. That was to step over Kirk's dead body.

"You bitch. Your precious reputation is tarnished forever now. No one is going to want to have *anything* to do with you, slut."

"Oh, all those ugly rumors were *your* doing? Nice work," Skye commented with more than a trace of sarcasm. "But anyone who'd believe *you* over *me* isn't someone I'd want to know anyway."

Sasha growled deep in his throat, causing Skye to glance at him anxiously. He was allowing her to control him, but he was letting her know that state of affairs wasn't going to last much longer.

Amber ran up to the threesome standing in the doorway of her room. Totally out of breath, she panted, "Sorry, guys. I didn't think he had the balls to come back here. Should I call Security?"

Sasha's entire body tensed beneath Skye's fingers. "That won't be necessary."

"If you were a *real* man, Kirk, the two of us could settle this. But since you're *not*…" Sasha's voice trailed off, allowing the other teenager to fill in the blanks.

"I'm not afraid of you," Kirk sneered.

"You should be," Sasha warned. "You hurt someone I love. I can't forgive that."

"I don't want your forgiveness. I just want you to leave."

"Not while you're still standing."

"Ha! I'm going to fuck you over so bad, your own mother won't recognize you."

Sasha shook his head, a slight curve of his lips the only sign that he'd heard Kirk. "I don't have a mother. And trust me, you *don't* want to meet my dad."

"What is that, a threat?"

"No, it's a fucking promise, moron. You *marked* her. You had your filthy mouth on her and you fucking *bit* her." Sasha smiled and even Skye felt a chill at seeing that wicked grin.

"I could just kill you and call it even," Sasha whispered.

Skye shivered at the animosity in Sasha's voice. He would defend her to the death. She knew that. But if he hurt Kirk, he would go to jail. They would be separated again, possibly forever. She didn't think she could bear that. In fact, she knew she couldn't.

What's more, she didn't think Sasha could either.

She wrapped her arms around Sasha's rigid body, his tension betrayed by the way his muscles literally strained the joints surrounding them. Putting her mouth to his ear, she whispered, "I love you. But if you *hurt* him…" She stumbled a bit over the word "hurt", knowing that Sasha's intent was deadlier than that. But she had to get through to him. Now.

"…we won't ever be together…"

Skye's almost mystical intuition about Sasha worked its magic. His body relaxed infinitesimally. "You're not worth it, man," Sasha said, his voice dripping with disdain. And like that, he dismissed Kirk as being beneath his notice.

For Skye.

Always for Skye.

Kirk finally seemed to sense just how close to disaster he'd come. "I'll stay away from her," he offered.

"Yeah, you will," Sasha agreed. "Cause if you don't…I'll know. And the next time I have to deal with you…" Sasha paused meaningfully and Kirk flinched.

Everything seemed settled, if not calm. Kirk was about to walk away and Skye watched him with almost palpable relief. Then it happened. "Aw, hell," Sasha said.

Right before he kicked Kirk's legs out from under him. Kirk slumped to the floor, his back against the door. He moaned once before he lost consciousness. "I'd get some ice on those knees, man. Looks like they're really going to swell. Oh, guess you won't be walking anywhere for a long time."

"I don't think he can hear you," Skye pointed out, her heart racing at the sight of Kirk injured.

"That's okay. I think he got the message."

Amber regarded the young couple with an awestruck expression. "Who *are* you?" she asked Sasha. "I mean, *really*?"

Sasha smiled. "Sorry, that's classified," he said, touching the tip of his finger to the side of his nose.

Amber's eyes widened even further.

"Um…now you can call Security."

Skye gazed deeply into her lover's eyes. She wanted to admonish him for being so foolish as to take Kirk's bait. But she couldn't fault him for wanting to protect her. He was right. Kirk would have come after her again once she was alone, and maybe she wouldn't have been lucky enough to escape the second time.

"Where were we?"

"Saying goodbye," Sasha responded sadly.

"Then you'd better take this with you." Skye kissed him, her hands unconsciously sliding under his T-shirt.

Sasha groaned and kissed her back, his mouth still unaccustomed to being allowed to take what she had to give. "Is it okay if I tell my folks about us?"

Skye nodded.

"What about Uncle Michael?"

"You let me take care of Daddy."

Sasha slept on the plane. The flight was both short and uneventful, and luckily for him, it was followed by a relatively brief trip through Customs. He hoisted his backpack over his shoulder and yawned. His late night with Skye was catching up with him, but he wouldn't trade it for anything.

It was late afternoon when he cleared Customs and left the airport. He thought about staying overnight in Paris, but he decided that he couldn't afford to lose any more time getting back home. Besides, after his abduction and his ordeal in Section One, Sasha had a healthy distrust of traveling on his own. Best to move quickly.

It was early evening by the time his cab pulled into the driveway of the Samuelle home. It was completely unlike Sasha to splurge on something as unnecessary as a cab when he could have called on any one of a dozen family members for free. But then, he thought, he wouldn't have been able to relive the past 36 hours.

He paid the driver and picked up his backpack. Suddenly he was assaulted by a pair of arms. "You don't know how to use a phone anymore?"

"Sorry, Dad. I was in a bit of a hurry."

"How did things go?" Sey asked, bouncing back and forth on his feet. Heel-toe, heel-toe.

Sasha couldn't help but smile. His father always urged him to follow his heart and he had. "Pretty good, actually."

"And?"

"And what, Dad?"

"Details, Sash, I want details."

Sasha blushed.

Sey grinned and bounced some more. "That good, huh?"

"Daaaddd…"

"So what did she say?"

"About what?"

"About *anything*. Jeez, Sash, do I have to spell it out for you?"

"She still loves me, Dad."

"I could have told you that and saved you the trip to England," Sey commented dryly.

"Oh, no. I'm going to remember this trip for the rest of my life," Sasha said fervently.

"Were you careful?" Sey asked in a low voice.

"I'm *always* careful, Dad."

"I'm glad to hear that." Pause. "Is there anything I should know about this trip before we go in the house and everyone descends on us?"

"I want to marry her, Dad."

Sey's first reaction was that Sasha couldn't possibly be serious. His second was the realization that Sasha meant *exactly* what he said.

Without allowing his surprise to show on his face, Sey merely asked, "Now?"

"Why not?"

"You have a couple more years before you graduate from college, Sash. I don't want to see you—"

"—throw it away on a girl who's too young to know what she wants?" Sasha finished bitterly.

"Actually, I was about to say, 'I don't want to see you tied down before you've had a chance to explore what's out there.'"

"I don't want anyone else, Dad. You know that."

Sey acknowledged that with a slight nod. "But do you have to get married?"

"We're sleeping together, Dad."

"I thought you said you were careful."

"I *was*. We *were*. We don't *have to* get married, Dad. It's not like that."

"I know, but—"

"I thought you, of all people, would understand, Dad." Sasha's eyes filled with unshed tears. He was tired. He was jet-lagged. And he already missed the other half of his soul. His feelings weren't up for debate. Not now. Not ever.

"Hey, kiddo," Sey called affectionately, opening his arms. "I think we got off on the wrong foot here. Let's start over. Hi. I'm glad you're home. Come and give me a nice, big hug."

Sasha wrapped his arms around his father's neck and held on. This was what he needed. His father's unconditional acceptance of who he was and who he was going to be.

"I love you, kiddo."

"I love you, too, Dad."

"Let's go inside and shock the hell out of Michael. I want to see the look on his face when he hears this."

"Dad! Skye said I could tell you and Da. But not Uncle Michael."

"Why?"

"Jesus, Dad! You know why. You know how he's going to take this."

"Well, it's not like you're going to be able to keep it a secret."

"That's it! We'll elope and get married and we won't tell him."

"I hate to point this out, but Skye needs his consent, Sasha."

"Maybe Aunt Nikita—"

Sey shook his head, a bemused smile on his face. "Nik's not going to keep something like this from Michael. Besides…are you going to cheat Skye *and* her mom out of a white wedding with all the hoopla?"

"God, why does everything have to be so fucking complicated?"

"Welcome to the club, kiddo."

Sey released Sasha, but draped an arm loosely around his son's shoulders. "Let's go tell Da. He'll be happy for you."

That remained to be seen. Declan *was* glad that Sasha was back. But he heartily objected to Sasha keeping *anything* from Michael. Even if he *did* promise Skye.

"You can't start out that way, Sasha. It'll bring you bad luck for the rest of your lives."

"I know. But—"

"But what? You've got to tell him."

"Maybe not. Skye seemed to think she could handle her dad."

"No one can *handle* Michael, kiddo. Except maybe Nikita. And look how long it took *her*."

"Couldn't we at least let her *try*, Da?"

Declan sighed. He couldn't deny his son. Not this time. "All right. But there has to be a time limit. You can't be talking marriage behind Michael's back. It wouldn't be right."

Sasha threw up his hands. "All you guys seem to care about is how Uncle Michael feels. What about me and Skye?"

"You're too young—"

"I'm *not*."

"Well, then, Skye is. Give her a bloody chance to grow up."

"I did, Da." Sasha's quiet understatement did what no amount of shouting could have. It went straight to Declan's heart and resonated there.

"What if we asked you to wait a little bit longer?" Declan asked softly.

"How much longer?"

"At least till you graduate. That's fair, isn't it?"

In truth, it was. It just didn't feel like it. Nothing did. Probably because he had never wanted anything this badly. Except for Skye herself.

"Yeah."

Declan took pity on Sasha and tried to comfort him. "Why don't you go to bed and get some sleep? You look tired."

"I am." Sasha wearily trudged into his room and shrugged off his backpack. He pulled off his boots and his jeans, leaving his socks on. Wiggling his toes, he winced as the circulation came back into his feet with a vengeance.

He tossed his jacket onto the bed and something hard and shiny fell out of the pocket. "What the—"

It was some sort of a medal. He picked it up and examined it more closely. Suddenly he gasped. This belonged to Skye. It was her St. Christopher's medal. She normally wore it around her neck.

Now that he thought about it, her neck was bare the last time he looked. Of course, he was a little distracted, but he was pretty sure his recollection was accurate.

Skye must have slipped it into his pocket while she was kissing him goodbye. It was too late to call her, but he wished he could hear her voice. So he did the next best thing. He sent her an email, asking if she *meant* for him to have the medal.

Moments later, he was pleasantly surprised to see a reply appear in his mailbox.

Beast—

I expect you to wear this thing. If I can't be there in person, I want to be there in spirit. So take this and wear it and think of me just a little each day. Cause each day brings us a little closer to being together. Forever.

All my love,

Ange

He carefully threaded it onto the necklace he usually wore. Just a plain silver cross to remind him that once upon a time, some twelve years ago, his prayers were heard and answered.

The medal fit perfectly under the cross.

He lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. His fingers touched Skye's medal and suddenly he felt warm all over. It was as if *she* had reached out a hand and caressed him when he most needed to feel her presence.

"Thank you," he told God. "You're a good listener."

Michael never knew what hit him. Nikita did, of course, being privy to her youngest daughter's machinations ahead of time. She was in charge of damage control.

Still, Michael was hardly predictable. If Skye's plan backfired…

"You're graduating this year? That's wonderful, sweetie!" Nikita didn't have to fake her reaction to Skye's news. She was undeniably proud of Skye. Skye was a unique combination of both Michael and Nikita. All of their children were, but the way those elements combined was different for each one.

Skye tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder with a beatific smile. She was home on a brief recess before beginning her final exams. She should have been studying, but this was more important. "What do you think, Daddy?"

Michael nodded absently, his interest consumed by a disturbing news article in his morning paper.

"I want to come home after graduation."

"Of course. This is where you live. You can spend the whole summer here before we decide where you're going to college."

"Excuse me? Don't I get a say in any of this?"

Michael raised his head and studied his daughter. She *seemed* calm, but he sensed an underlying tension. "You get to choose the college."

"Daddy!"

"What?"

"I want to *stay* home."

"You're going to college, Skye. That's not negotiable."

"Well, duh. Of course, I am. But I want to stay here."

"What's so interesting about—ah, Sasha. Forget I asked."

"This has nothing to do with Sasha. It has to do with *me*."

Michael closed his newspaper with a snap. "I know you, Skye. If it has to do with you, it has to do with Sasha."

"Actually…" Skye paused meaningfully, making sure she had her father's attention. "I've met someone else."

"You have?" Michael blinked, his expression still carefully blank.

"Yes. He's in England. He was, like, totally obsessed with me. I told him I didn't want to see him anymore, but he wouldn't leave me alone, Daddy."

"Who is he?"

"He comes from a very wealthy family, Daddy. Very powerful."

"Who is he?" Michael repeated, his jaw clenching.

"He tried to…you know…"

Michael stood up at once, his entire body rigid. "Did he hurt you?"

"He tried to," Skye said with a sniffle.

Nikita glanced at her husband, noting the way his grey-green eyes glittered fiercely. She crossed her fingers behind her back.

"Luckily, Sasha came to see me. God, I've never seen him so angry, Daddy. I thought he was going to take him apart."

Michael was clearly hanging on every word now. Sasha? Sasha protected his baby?

"What happened?"

"Sasha broke his knee. Kirk's going to be on crutches for graduation."

Michael smiled faintly. "Good. I assume he got the message."

Skye nodded. "I think so. But that's why I want to come home. England holds too many bad memories for me now."

"I understand. Well, there are more than enough colleges here, and it's not as if we won't enjoy having you back, sweetheart."

Michael kissed his daughter on the cheek and Skye hugged him. The first part of her mission was successfully accomplished. She was going to come home after graduation.

Nikita surveyed her next to last child with a concerned look. "I thought you were going to tell him about you and Sasha."

"I am. Eventually."

"When? When you elope?"

"Oh, no, Mom. I want a wedding right out of the storybooks," Skye said dreamily.

"I dunno, sweetie. I don't think your father is going to go for his baby getting married at 16."

"Then I'll just have to give him a reason," Skye quipped, a mischievous smile on her lips.

"Skye, I don't think I like the sound of that. You're not pregnant, are you?"

"No, Mom. We're using condoms."

"Condoms break, honey."

"Well…"

"While you're here, why don't we get you started on a better form of birth control?"

"The pill?"

"Maybe. If that's what's right for you."

Nikita had the feeling that she had just been skillfully manipulated into acqueiscing to Skye and Sasha's growing intimacy. But she didn't mind. It's what she would have done. Nothing and no one could have kept her from Michael. She knew it was the same with Skye and Sasha.

"Sasha."

Startled by the older man's silent approach, Sasha jerked his head up. He'd brought his books outside, spreading them on a blanket on the lush grass that dominated the Samuelle backyard. He'd kept his distance from Skye, agreeing to let her try things her way. But it was hard staying away from her.

"Uncle Michael," Sasha acknowledged.

"Studying for finals?"

"Yep. I thought coming outside would help…clear my head. But the truth is, it's not. I'm beginning to think I should pack it in and head for the beach."

Michael smiled. "It *is* a beautiful day."

Sasha nodded. Michael was seriously spooking him. He'd never seen him this…friendly.

"I wanted to thank you."

"For what?" Sasha gave his uncle a puzzled look.

"For what you did for Skye."

Okay, now he was majorly freaked. What the hell did Michael mean by that? Did Skye tell him about the two of them?

"Umm…it was nothing?"

"Oh, no, I think we both know it was *something*. How did you know what she needed?"

Sasha almost fell over. "Uh, well, we've always kinda been on the same wavelength…"

"Did it bother you?"

"What?"

"Was it hard to do what you did?"

Jesus. This was definitely the weirdest conversation he'd ever had with Michael and that was saying something.

"Not at all. It just sorta…came naturally, I guess."

"Would you do it again?"

"In a heartbeat," Sasha vowed.

"I'm glad you protected her. I can't thank you enough for that."

"I couldn't help it. I'm in love with her," Sasha admitted. *Now* Michael would beat him to a pulp. Right?

"I know. But you never took advantage, no matter how difficult it must have been."

"Uncle Michael?" Sasha took a deep breath. He trusted Skye and her instincts, but right or wrong, he wanted to be honest with Michael.

"Yes?"

"Skye and I are lovers," Sasha blurted out, waiting for the inevitable fallout.

He was prepared for anything but Michael's quiet "I know."

"You know? How?"

"Nikita and I have been together for a long time now. I knew something happened, but I wasn't sure what it was. I hoped that she would tell me. But instead, Skye did."

"She came right out and told you?"

"No. No one in our family is that direct. Except for Luc. Skye thought she was telling me a story about her and someone named Kirk. But it was what she didn't say that was interesting."

Sasha looked steadily into Michael's eyes and said, "I want to marry her."

Michael nodded. "I thought you would. You've never once wavered from your devotion to her. That's a rare thing to see."

Sasha trembled inside. "I know you want what's best for Skye. That's what I want, too."

"You'd protect her with your life." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"Yes."

"Then you two should be together," Michael said softly.

Sasha's vision blurred. "That's not what I expected you to say," he said, his voice choked with emotion.

"You love her almost as much as I do," Michael murmured. "That's what's most important to me."

"Da wants us to wait. At least till I graduate."

"That's a good idea. How do you feel about that?"

"It's almost another two years," Sasha sighed.

"But you'll do it because it's what's best for her."

Sasha nodded. "Does that mean—?"

"Yes. You can marry my daughter."

The younger man swiped at his eyes and Michael pretended not to notice. But Sasha's reaction pleased Michael. He would guard Skye with his life. He would make her happy.

"Oh, and Sasha?"

Sasha waited expectantly.

"Let her think *she* did this."

"If we do, she'll never let either one of us forget it."

Michael very nearly grinned. "I know."

"She'll be impossible to live with."

"Just like her mother. But I wouldn't trade a single day with her for a lifetime with anyone else."

"You do know how I feel," Sasha said with a trace of awe.

"I've always known."

Michael watched in silence as Sasha packed up his books. When he was done, Sasha stretched out on his back on the blanket. "You're right. It *is* a beautiful day."

"Did you change your mind about going to the beach?"

"No. I think I'll stay right here. And think."

Michael patted Sasha on the shoulder. "Maybe Skye will join you. You two have a lot to talk about."

"Thanks."

If this was a dream, he didn't want anyone to wake him up.

"Dad said you wanted to see me."

Sasha nodded.

"Well, don't be mysterious. What's going on?"

Sasha grasped her wrists and gently pulled her down to the blanket, his books long forgotten. She demurely folded her legs under her and waited.

"Your father said yes," he said so quietly that Skye nearly missed it.

"What?"

"Your father…said yes," he repeated, more slowly this time.

"He said we could get married?" she asked incredulously. "You mean it worked? My plan worked?"

Sasha smiled. On the surface, it didn't look any different than one of his usual smiles. But if Michael was watching, his keenly observant eyes would have accurately pinpointed the reason he smiled. He couldn't help but recall what he'd told Michael. Skye would be impossible to live with. But the thought of sharing his life with Skye filled him with such joy that he didn't mind if she thought *she* was responsible for breaking through Michael's overprotective barrier.

"I guess so," Sasha finally replied.

Skye threw herself into his arms and he willingly endured the flurry of kisses and caresses that followed. "Oh, I love you, Beast."

"I love you, too." His arms involuntarily tightened around her. She was his. At last. All of the bad things that had happened to him faded into insignificance.

"There's only one condition," he added.

Skye frowned. "Don't tell me we can't see each other?" She didn't think she could bear the disappointment of another long separation.

"No, no, nothing like that. They just want us to wait a little while longer."

"How much longer?"

"Till I graduate."

Skye fell silent, evidently lost in thought. Sasha broke into her preoccupation with a fervent, "It's not as bad as it sounds, Ange. We'll have time to save some money, find jobs, find a place to live."

Skye favored him with a sunny look and kissed him. "We'll have our own place?"

"Uh huh," he responded, nuzzling her hair. "Lots of stuff to think about."

"And dream about," Skye continued, closing her eyes when Sasha's lips touched her temple.

"Yeah," Sasha mused, fantasizing about waking up next to Skye every morning.

"Can we have a cat? And a dog?" Skye asked, her light blue eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Sasha drew back and stared at her quizzically. "Why don't we wait and see?"

"Okay," she agreed readily, snuggling closer.

"I had something a little more inanimate in mind."

"Like what?"

Sasha chuckled. "You must be the only female in captivity not to wonder about the ring."

"No, it's just…I know you don't have a lot of money and—"

"Stop," Sasha protested, tangling his fingers in her long blonde hair. "I've *got* the ring, Ange. Do you want to see it?"

"You bought it without me?"

"No, I got it from Dad. Dad never knew his real mom, but when he mentioned it to Gran'pa, Gran'pa whipped out this amazing ring."

"Who did it belong to?"

"I don't know for sure, but I think that maybe Gran'pa bought the ring to give to Dad's mom."

"The one he never married?"

"Yeah. Dad said that he kept the ring all these years, waiting for the right moment."

"And now's the right moment?" Skye asked breathlessly.

Sasha nodded. "It's a little old-fashioned. If you don't like it, we can get something else—"

"Show me."

"What?"

"Show me. Please."

Sasha reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out the ring. He was right. The setting *was* old-fashioned, but it was clearly *real* gold. The stone in the center was a small perfect ruby, surrounded by tiny diamond baguettes on each side. He held it in the palm of his hand and Skye gasped.

"It's beautiful, Beast."

"It's yours, if you want it."

"Put it on me?"

Sasha breathed deep and slid the ring onto the third finger of her left hand. "Wow, it fits."

"I'm never going to take it off, Beast." She stared at her hand, with its fingers outstretched, as if it might disappear.

"I just have one more thing I have to say."

"Oh?" Skye reluctantly tore her eyes from the loveliest ring she'd ever seen.

Sasha shifted into a kneeling position, his fingers wrapped around Skye's left hand. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes."

They kissed, Sasha's fingers repeatedly rubbing the ring on her hand, either for luck or to make sure it was real. When they eventually broke apart, Skye had tears in her eyes. "I love you so much."

"Me, too," he sighed contentedly.

"Even if we don't get a cat or a dog," Skye added.

Sasha burst out laughing. "Thank you for putting me in my place in case I was beginning to feel *too* important."

"Now can I tell everyone I've got a jealous boyfriend who keeps me on a tight leash?" Skye asked playfully.

"You'd better. It's official now."

"The woods? Why do you want to go there?"

"You make it sound like Siberia, Chris." Emmy dropped her cell phone into her jacket pocket. "If you don't want to come, fine. I'll go by myself."

Chris immediately stood in front of her, blocking her way. "Oh, no. I'm not letting you go trekking through the woods by yourself, Em."

Emmy gave Chris an exasperated look. "It's daytime, Chris. Not the middle of the night."

She strode past him, pushing open the back door of the Samuelle home. Luckily, Chris was right behind her or the door would have slammed in his face. He grabbed her by the arm and tugged hard. Emmy whirled around to face him, her long red hair flying around her head like a magnificent halo.

"Well? Are you coming?" she demanded.

"Yeah," Chris replied loudly, all too aware of the softness of Emmy's skin beneath his fingers.

"Good." Emmy slowly withdrew her arm from Chris' grasp. She wasn't sure that she cared for the look in his eyes, but she'd asked for it. Sometimes she pushed too hard. But if she waited for Chris to move…

They walked companiably through the backyard, Emmy's surprisingly long strides helping her keep pace with Chris. "So," she began conversationally, "what do you think of your sister getting married to my brother?"

Chris gave her a curious sidelong glance. "It's got nothing to do with me. Why?"

"I just wondered, that's all." The fact that she often lay awake thinking about her own relationship with Chris didn't enter into things. Or so she told herself.

Chris helped Emmy over the fence that was more for protection than decoration. The woods was just that, a wild area with animals that fit that description. As young children, they were forbidden to go there after Emmy's remarkable rescue of the twins. No one was ever really able to explain how Emmy found them, despite her repeated assertion that the "trees talked to me."

Now Emmy was consumed with a desire to know more about her Druidic heritage, convinced that her psychic visions were rooted in her Celtic background. It wasn't that Chris didn't believe her. He did. But he worried about his own place in her life. As she grew more and more intense, he could feel himself falling further and further behind.

Emmy turned and looked back over her shoulder. "Chris?" She frowned. "What's wrong? You look…troubled."

"It's nothing," he lied, feeling a sharp pang seize his heart. He loved her so much. He wanted to be…more. He wanted to be…everything.

Emmy stared at him for a long moment, her pale grey eyes flickering over his face. "So…now you've taken up lying?"

"What, did you have a vision about that, too?" Chris shouted.

She raised a dark red eyebrow imperiously, looking for all the world like Declan on a bad day. "No. As a matter of fact, I figured that one out the old-fashioned way. All by myself."

"Just stay the fuck out of my head, okay?" Chris could feel himself approaching some kind of breaking point and part of him wondered 'Why now?' Sharply following that thought came the realization that he had never felt good enough for Emmy and now…he never would be.

"O-kay…" Emmy turned her back on Chris and started to walk away, stopping abruptly after she'd gone a few steps. "I *did* have a vision, you know. About *us*. *Here*. That's why I came out here," she said, sounding as wretched as Chris felt.

"Yeah? What was it about?" Chris asked, not really caring what the answer was. He was doomed to repeat his mistakes with Emmy over and over again. There was no hope for him. None at all. Not for someone with so much intellect and almost no common sense.

"Do you really want to know?"

Chris closed his eyes. He could feel Emmy slipping out of his grasp and he didn't know what to do about it. "Yeah," he muttered, hoping she couldn't hear how heartsick he was.

"There's a clearing a little further down this path. I'll show you."

Chris followed her without speaking. His mind was so preoccupied with what he thought was his impending loss that he never noticed they had stopped again. "See that creek?"

Chris nodded.

Emmy leaned against a tree and took off her shoes and socks. Chris stared at her in disbelief. "Are you crazy? There are wild animals in here."

"They won't harm us. Trust me."

"Why? You cast some kind of a spell or something?"

"No." Emmy frowned. "Is that what's bothering you? You think I'm a bloody witch?"

Chris could only shake his head.

Emmy sighed. "The trees will protect us."

"Right," Chris agreed with more than a trace of sarcasm.

"Are you making fun of me?"

"No. I think you're doing a pretty good job yourself."

"So are you," she snapped. "Pushing me away." Emmy walked towards him, and all Chris could see were her bare feet. Bare, vulnerable skin. "But lucky for you, you can't get rid of me that easily."

She came to a halt in front of him, her lips suddenly a mere kiss away. "Do you know what I saw?"

"No."

"You…and me." Her lips parted and Chris swallowed, the ache in his chest growing and intensifying.

With a switch so abrupt it made his head spin, Emmy pivoted on her heel and sat down on the bank of the little creek. Dangling her bare feet in the cool, clean water, Emmy pretended to ignore Chris. But she knew the exact instant when he joined her.

"You shouldn't do that. What if something bit you? Or—"

Emmy exhaled softly. "Y'know, when I was little, I enjoyed being Da's Princess. I liked being special. Then when I fell in love with you, I became *your* Princess, too. I *loved* that. Almost as much as I love you."

"But?" Chris asked bravely.

Emmy faced him, her silvery eyes somber. "It's time you knocked me off that pedestal you put me on."

Chris shifted his gaze to the creek below. "You think I treat you too well? That's pretty funny, Em."

"Not really. Not to me."

"I have no idea what you're getting at, Em. I swear." But Emmy could hear the underlying emotion in Chris' voice.

"Chris…sometimes you treat me like I'm a…fucking alien!" Emmy cried out in frustration.

"Emmy!" Chris exclaimed.

"Well, it's true. You think it's hot looking like fucking Snow White? Huh? Is that what you think? Well, guess again! If *you* were fucking Prince Charming, I'd still be asleep in the middle of the woods!"

"That's Sleeping Beauty," Chris corrected.

"Arghhhhh!"

Chris contemplated joining the French Foreign Legion. They were still around somewhere, weren't they? He'd make a fine mercenary. Besides, didn't they all join up to *forget* some catastrophically failed romance?

"Chris…" Emmy took a deep breath and began again. "Do you know why talking about Sasha and Skye bothers you?"

"It doesn't bother me," he instantly contradicted.

"Don't lie to me. I know it does. I can feel it from here."

Chris shook his head.

"Sasha was miserable…till he finally found the courage to take what he wanted."

"I don't think we should be talking about this."

"Why ever not?"

Chris virtually exploded. "Cause I'm *not* Sasha, okay? I *can't* pour my fucking heart out to you!"

"Is that what you think he did?"

"Yes!"

"Why is that so wrong?"

"If you knew what was in my heart, you'd—"

Emmy pulled her wet feet under her and knelt on the mossy bank. She grabbed Chris by the shoulders and shook him. "I'd what?"

"You'd see that I don't deserve you," Chris muttered.

"Why? Why would you think that?"

"Christ, Em, you want romance! I can't give you that! I don't know how! I don't know anything except how much I—"

"What?" she pleaded quietly.

"—love you. I love you, but that's not enough."

"No, it's not," Emmy agreed, sending a shard of pain through Chris' already aching heart. "I need more."

Chris felt his eyes fill with tears and he thought, Shit, that's it, I'm not going to get out of this with my fucking dignity. "I can't give you more."

Emmy crept towards him, insinuating herself into his lap. His back pressed hard against the tree behind him, Chris shivered when her hand touched his groin. "Yes, you can," she whispered, her hand stroking the hardness outlined against the zipper of his jeans.

Chris froze.

"You want to know what I saw?" she murmured. "This."

She straddled his waist with her legs and ground her bottom against his arousal. Chris groaned as she kissed him, his hands instinctively grasping her hips. "I can't," he protested weakly.

"If you can't, I'll kill you myself," Emmy whispered as she bit his lower lip.

"Soleil, you're made for something better than this—"

"Tosh, I'm made for something *exactly* like this."

"Are you sure you want to come down off that pedestal?" Chris asked her breathlessly, unconsciously thrusting into that sweet, soft space between her legs. Despite the fact that they were both almost fully clothed, it was by far the most erotic thing they had ever done together.

Chris had the feeling that he was crossing a line. But he had no control over the journey or the destination.

He pushed his hands under her T-shirt and unhooked her bra. Without removing it, he shoved the scrap of silk out of the way and latched onto one of her nipples. Emmy gasped and sat down hard on his lap, tremors racing throughout her body as she came. Chris pulled her against him, both impossibly hard and overwhelmingly hot at the same time, and shuddered his release into her ear.

"Oh, my God."

Emmy leaned forward, her bare skin brushing against his chest, and licked his lips. Her nimble fingers expertly unzipped his jeans, exposing his now flaccid dick. "That was just a prelude. Now we're going to do this properly."

"Uh, define properly," he said, trying in vain to catch his breath.

"I think it's time one of us took something off."

Before Chris could answer, Emmy's tongue was in his mouth and her hands were sliding inside his jeans. He kissed her back, his palms cupping her breasts. His blue eyes fever-bright now, Chris whispered, "You know how much I love you, right?"

She nodded.

He smiled slowly. "Is there room at the bottom of that pedestal for both of us?"

"Oh, yessss…"

He had a feeling he was going to have a devil of a time explaining why he had leaves in his hair later.