Strong Enough To Break

by heart-of-a-volunteer

While staying with his family in Cuba, Miguel reveals to Beth the tragic circumstances that led to his enrolment in the navy. Follows after 'A Stranger I Once Knew.' One-Shot.

WARNING – THIS STORY CONTAINS MILD SWEARING AND A MODERATE SEX SCENE.

This is a one-shot little story to fill the time gap between 'A Stranger I Once Knew' and 'Facing Down The Past'. It delves into the past I created for Miguel Ortiz.

Disclaimer – Created for personal enjoyment only, no financial gain incurred. seaQuest DSV concept and characters remain the copyright and intellectual property of Universal Pictures and Amblin Entertainment.

***

Knowing it was necessary didn't make it feel any less of a violation. Having a stranger's hands go places that only you had been for the last few years was enough to make any man balk.

Through gritted teeth, Miguel handed over his ID card to one of the guards, while another searched him for concealed weapons or paraphernalia. It was this kind of atmosphere he'd come home to get away from. But he couldn't put this off any longer – it was time. Though he wasn't entirely relieved when they nodded and buzzed him through the double security gates. The dimly lit, musty corridor ahead of him was one he'd tried to blank out of his memory, but had never quite succeeded.

It had been almost seven years, and all that time it had lingered at the back of his mind. He'd never known whether to associate it with guilt or resentment. The place hadn't changed much – a new lick of paint here or there, but otherwise it was the same building with the same purpose. The booths hadn't changed much either, and as he lifted the receiver from the wall, he felt the same mixture of fear and trepidation.

'I shouldn't be feeling this way about seeing my own brother,' he thought dismally.

"Been a while," a gruff, unshaven man spoke from the other side of the partition.

"You've been in here a while," Miguel quipped.

"Been seven years since you last walked through that door."

"Six. It's been six years."

"Huh, whatever," Leandro scoffed dryly.

"So, how are you doing?"

"What do you think?" Leandro barked.

The comment was enough to unintentionally turn him on the defensive. "Don't be like that!" he said, holding up his one free hand.

"Like what? I don't have a right to be pissed off that my little brother hasn't paid a visit in seven years?"

"It hasn't been seven years exactly!"

"Whatever! You didn't even write, man! Every little thing I know about your life I've had to find out from Mama and Daniella!"

"What about Papa?"

"What about Papa? He's been once or twice. Doesn't really care. Bit like someone else I know."

At that, Miguel lost all form of self-restraint. "You told me to go and make something of myself!!! So I took the opportunity in front of me and I went for it! I had to leave all this behind."

"Didn't have to leave me behind."

There – that was something honest – and the suddenness of it knocked the bluster out of him. "I know," he sighed, dismayed.

The gap between them suddenly seemed wider than it had been when he was on tour half way across the world. This was the guy he'd hero worshipped since the day he could comprehend the world; the guy whose footsteps he'd followed since he was old enough to plod across the lawn. But unfortunately, those footsteps had only led him into the same trouble Leandro became tangled in – street violence, territorial conflicts and, inevitably, drugs.

Being six years older, by the time Miguel left school and was contemplating his future, Leandro was already lost down the wrong path, and although concerned about his younger brother becoming involved in the same culture, his more pressing concern was always where he would get his next fix. So, he allowed a 17-year-old Miguel to tag along, much to the disgust of his parents. They knew Leandro was out of their control, and it broke their heart to see him taking his brother with him. Sadly, it was to be an unexpected incident that would turn their lives around, and lead them down the roads they were now on.

"I had to get on with my life," Miguel attempted to explain.

"So I heard." Leandro paused, familiar feelings of brotherly concern beginning to blunt the raw edge of betrayal. "How's that going anyhow?"

"Better than I expected."

Leandro scoffed. "Don't tell me you like that stuffed up military crap!"

"I didn't at first, but yeah, now I do."

The silence descended on them again. After so many years without communication it was nigh on impossible to keep a conversation flowing without pauses for thought.

"I heard a rumour you're in submarines," Leandro said, gruffly.

"Yeah."

"That's hardcore, man."

Miguel nodded, his thoughts drifting to the chilling events at UEO Headquarters, and thinking that his brother wouldn't be so light hearted about it if he knew what it was really like. "It's what I needed."

"Must have been tough out there lately, after everything that happened. Were you out in it?"

"Depends what you mean," Miguel said coolly, not especially wanting to get into the details of recent events. "If you mean was I at the compound when it happened? Then yes. If you mean was I sent out on patrol with the seaQuest? Then yes."

"You weren't hurt though right?"

"A few scrapes; nothing serious. Others came out worse."

Leandro recognised the control his brother was exerting over his emotions. Whatever he'd been through on that boat, it had taken a lot out of him, and he found himself wondering whether that was the reason he'd finally decided to come and see him. Deep down he knew it wasn't anger that dominated his feelings towards Miguel. If anything it was guilt, tinged a little with envy. Long before they'd got into this mess, their parents had approached him with the suggestion of joining the navy, but in all his youthful arrogance, he'd just laughed at them. Back then there was no way he'd have let some uniform try to tell him how to act or behave. Hearing how much Miguel had made of the same opportunity was nothing short of painful, but he had deserved it. He'd worked hard in school, unlike Leandro himself, who had slacked his way through and earned himself nothing but an expulsion for drug possession. At the time, it hadn't bothered him much, but now he felt acute regret for leading Miguel away from what could have been a promising academic future. At least he'd found his feet somehow. "So the seaQuest, huh?"

"Yeah, I'm a Senior CPO, the Chief of Boat."

"Well," Leandro said leaning back in his chair, slightly awestruck. "That's something."

"Don't go spreading that around, alright?"

"You kidding? Mama's probably dead proud. The whole neighbourhood will know."

Miguel shook his head. "No. She knows how they'd react. The UEO isn't exactly that popular around here."

"No worries, man," Leandro reassured, and glanced nervously at the guards pacing the room around them.

Miguel looked round also, realising he was probably never going to get a straight answer out of him while the guards were eavesdropping, but was desperate to try anyway. He needed to know how his brother really was. "Listen, how are you really?"

Leandro flicked his eyes back and forth between the guards and the other prisoners on either side of him, before they glazed back over and he answered with no hint of emotion. "I'm cool man, it's alright."

The response frustrated Miguel. It gave nothing away. All he wanted to know was whether he'd managed to get himself clean, or whether being in prison with a bunch of crack-heads had continued to fuel his addiction. It seemed, however, that he wasn't going to find out this time, as the buzzer rang, indicating the end of the session. The guards immediately began herding the prisoners out.

"How long you home for?" Leandro asked, quickly.

"Another three weeks."

"You'll come again?"

Miguel nodded, tentatively. "I'll try. I've got a friend coming to stay."

A grin spread across Leandro's face. "A friend, huh?"

"Yeah," Miguel said, cracking into a reluctant smile and giving the game away.

"Oh a female friend," he grinned harder. "Bring her along too. It'll be better than looking at your ugly face," he said, already being hauled from his seat. "I've missed you, man."

"Me too."

Miguel watched as Leandro raised his hand in a wave and disappeared down the hall out of sight. Feeling confused and frustrated, he set the receiver back down and turned his back to leave.

'This isn't how things should be,' he thought.

He'd been 18 when Leandro had been sentenced, and since then he'd served almost 10 years of the 35 he'd been given. Even if he became eligible for parole, which in their country was unlikely, by that time his nephews would be teenagers. They'd have grown up without knowing their second uncle, and all because of a stupid mistake.

Cuba wasn't the place it used to be – while they were growing up they had opportunities their parents could only have dreamed of. But every town and city has its' problems – it's misfits and rebels and back then Leandro was the very definition of rebel. Having taken a newly graduated Miguel under his wing, most nights the two of them would meet with Leandro's friends, and Miguel would watch as they doped up on various substances; crack being the preferred option. Leandro refused to let Miguel anywhere near the stuff, so he had to content himself with the occasional wrap of hash. Anything stronger and he wouldn't be able to drive, which was his main purpose. In their drug-induced euphoria, they often ran into trouble, and having Miguel along as a driver ensured they always had an escape route. In short, they were walking all over him, but he was so caught up in it he didn't care; his big brother was looking out for him, during a time in his life that was proving to be very confusing, and that was all that mattered.

It was on one of those nights that Leandro and three of his friends discovered their remaining supply would barely share between them, so after using it up, they and Miguel went searching for a hook-up. Their usual guy didn't have what they needed so in desperation they forged ahead into enemy territory and found what they were after, but not before a rival gang member ratted them out and they were cornered in a drug-bust.

Miguel had been horrified, standing cuffed to his car while his brother, doped up to the eyeballs, pulled a gun on one of the police officers in defence.

'He hadn't meant to do it. He didn't know what he was doing,' he repeatedly told himself afterwards. But it still couldn't change what had happened.

He remembered screaming as Leandro aimed and pulled the trigger, shooting the officer in the abdomen. He'd died a few minutes later.

Leandro had received the longest sentence, and was jailed, effectively ending his young life.

Because Miguel had never been in trouble with the law before, his parents had been able to talk the judge into dropping the sentence, on the condition that he join the navy, and that's how he'd ended up where he was.

Although it hadn't been the ideal situation, in fact a million miles away from the ivy league scholarship he'd been so close to achieving, he thanked fate everyday for dealing him a better hand than his brother, and for giving him the chance to make a better person of himself; a person he, and his family, could now be proud of.

***

"I warned you he might be like that."

"I know. I didn't want to believe it," Miguel admitted later, as he sat drinking a cold beer with his oldest friend, Gabriel Elsas.

"Prison's hard. He's not gonna admit he's still got a problem, least of all in front of you."

"I thought he'd more likely to speak to me about it than Mama or Papa, or even Daniella."

"You haven't seen the guy for years, what do you expect?"

Miguel shot him a dirty glance. He already felt bad for ignoring Leandro all these years. The last thing he needed was his friend on his back too.

"I'm sorry man, I'm not gonna sugar coat it for you."

"So you think he's still using?" Miguel asked, gruffly.

Gabriel shook his head. "I don't know. I've heard mixed reports. I know a lot of guys in there and I can't get a straight answer out of any of them."

The answer was one Miguel was going to have to accept. Gabriel was a youth development officer, working with dis-advantaged kids and ex-addicts, so if anyone knew about the extent of substance use, he did. "I hope to God he's cleaned himself up. He'll never get early release if he hasn't."

"If it helps, I believe he wants to change. There's a lot he regrets."

"There's a lot we all regret."

"Yeah, I tell that to the kids all the time. But you're a prime example that people can move on to better things." There was an expectant pause. "Don't suppose you'd come along and speak to some of them?"

"No way," he answered flatly.

"So, you don't feel like helping me out with a class tomorrow?"

Miguel looked at him sidelong and grinned. "I'm not giving your kids a talk, Gabe. Besides, I can't. I have to drive to Havana and pick someone up from the airport."

Gabriel set down his glass and looked at him expectantly. "Oh yeah? Who?"

A smile jerked at one corner of Miguel's mouth, brightening his expression.

"Oh, it's a girl!!" Gabriel laughed. "Come on!"

"You remember that scientist I told you about a couple of years ago, who worked onboard?"

"The one with the whales? You were freakin' hung up on that one."

"Yeah, well she came back onboard this tour."

"Nice!" Gabriel held up his beer and they clinked glasses. "So you banged her this time, right?" he winked, teasing.

"Gabe!" Miguel exclaimed, after coughing and spluttering on his drink.

"I'm just jokin' man. So, what happened?"

Miguel proceeded to tell him a censored version of how Beth had come back onboard the seaQuest, this time working as the assistant chief science officer, and how even after all the time apart, the connection between them had remained intact. He explained what they'd been through together, starting from the incident in the Solomon's and how it had led to the attack on the UEO. He also told him about the happier events – including the many nights he and Beth had spent catching up, the day at the beach, and the ball. He still couldn't think about those memories with the same euphoric happiness he'd felt while they were being made – they were tainted by grief and regret. But, his heart lifted a little knowing that he and Beth could help each other through it.

"Que bola, asere?" Gabe asked, concerned at his friends dismal expression.

Miguel looked up and gave a sad smile. "I really like this girl, I mean really."

"How really?"

Miguel answered with silence, conveying his meaning through the seriousness in his eyes.

"I thought you said you'd only just hooked up."

"I know it seems that way, but this thing between us, it's been there far longer than that," he paused. "I really love her."

"Dude," Gabriel commented.

"What?"

"It's just weird to hear you say that. I mean; this is you!"

Miguel sighed, angrily. "I'm sick of people saying that. I'm not like that anymore!"

"I know that. But everyone else here just remembers the old Ortiz."

"Yeah," Miguel grumbled.

"Does she feel the same way?"

Miguel shrugged. "Don't know. She doesn't know how I feel."

"You should tell her."

"What if she doesn't feel the same way?"

"What if she does and you never find out?"

Miguel growled in reluctant agreement and looked away, causing Gabriel to chuckle into his beer.

"That mean I'm right?"

"Yeah, you're right," Miguel growled again, glad to have been able to get those few things off his chest.

***

Terminal Three of Jose Marti International Airport bustled with activity, as friends and relatives prepared to welcome passengers from the newly arrived Mexico City flight; the same one Beth was on. She'd have been travelling for almost eight hours, which seemed ridiculous, seeing how Miami was just a hop across the water from Havana. But, as Miguel explained to her, because the United States still held several embargoes against Cuba, it was impossible to fly direct from Miami.

Life there had improved significantly over the last twenty years or so, and joining the UEO had also helped relations with the USA. But there were still several human rights issues they had a problem with, including restrictions on practising religion and freedom of information, and until these were resolved, the States were going to hold firm.

There had been no one passing through the arrival gates for some time, so he wandered over to one of the screens to double check when the flight had landed. There it was – Mexico City – arrived 1308. That was 20 minutes ago, so she would appear any minute now.

He had to admit that even though it had only been five days, and they'd been in frequent contact, he was excited at the thought of seeing her again and having the chance to show her round his home. That excitement only increased as the gates buzzed open and passengers started pouring through. As expected, there were scenes of tearful and joyous reunion, and upon watching them, he found himself thinking back to the homecoming ceremony and wondering what all his crewmates were up to.

The crowd ahead of him had cleared, leaving another batch of anxious relatives to step forward and wait in anticipation. Gabe had offered to make the journey with him, but Miguel had politely refused. This was something he wanted to do himself, knowing full well that once he and Beth got back to the house they'd have very little time alone together. He wanted to make the most of the drive back to Santa Clara, and the chance to speak to her properly in person for the first time since he'd come back off patrol. In his usual style, Gabe had shrugged it off, but had insisted that he get an introduction as soon as she was settled.

The security buzzer on the arrival gates rang out once more, allowing another wave of passengers to pour through. This time there was a familiar face among them, and she was beaming a smile in his direction. He grinned back and waved to make double sure she had seen him, even though she was looking right at him.

"Hey you," he said, taking her case from her so she was free to embrace him, and pulling her closer to plant an affectionate kiss on her forehead.

They both sighed in delight at being able to hold each other again. It had become such a common part of their relationship that they had missed it more than they realised.

As they gazed at one another, a sudden pleasant realisation occurred to them both – they no longer needed to hide how they felt, so they didn't, and leant in to kiss each other tenderly, before pulling back and smiling broadly.

"You got your hair cut," she said, sounding pleased. It was still long and curled, but not as wild as it had been.

"Yeah, I succumbed to the pressure. How was the trip?" he asked, tucking her hair behind her ear. She looked tired, and darker under the eyes than he remembered.

She exhaled loudly. "Annoying, but ok once I figured out how to handle the immigration officials. They all switched to full-on panic mode when I said I was going to visit my boyfriend."

"You should just have said friends."

"Nah, they were ok after they saw my return booking," she yawned. "Excuse me."

"You can sleep in the car," he told her, grasping her case with one hand, while wrapping the other arm around her waist and leading her out to the parking lot.

"No, don't let me do that," she insisted. "I'll never sleep at night."

"I wasn't planning on letting you sleep anyway," he said with a wink.

She looked up at him and rolled her eyes.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Five days off the sub and this is what I have to contend with?" she teased.

He simply chuckled heartily, pulling her closer and leading them towards the car.

"How long does it take to get there?" she asked, as they piled her bags into the back.

"About three and a half hours."

"I hope you've got some decent music."

Miguel raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Is this where the arguing starts?"

"Just think of the making up afterwards," she winked.

"And you say I'm bad!" he laughed, happy that the banter and the connection between them had so far survived being up world. Before she had a chance to get in the car, he walked round to her and pulled her firmly into his arms, where she fitted snugly. "I've missed you," he said, softly.

"Me too," she sighed.

He held the car door open for her and she climbed in, sinking happily into the seat and settling herself for the journey. She was surprised at his choice of car.

"It's not mine," he explained, when questioned about the 4x4. "Papa has to drive all over the place with his work, and some of the roads aren't that great, so he wanted something reliable."

"I didn't think television repair would involve that much driving around."

"He used to do television repair, but with all the changes in technology he had to retrain, and now he does general vid-link repairs, so he travels all over to wherever the companies need him."

"You don't have to defend the car, Miguel," she chuckled. "I'm not going to give you a lecture just because it's not the greenest car on the market."

"Just covering my back," he teased.

"Doesn't look like you've been covering it much since you've been here," she said, referring to the deeply tanned skin on his arms and neck.

"Oh that? It doesn't take long. I've been helping out Benton and Daniella on their house. Benton's a labourer, so he's been doing a lot of the work himself. Thought I'd give them a hand while I was back," he paused, concentrating on negotiating himself onto the central road between Havana and Santa Clara. "By the way, I've been ordered to stop by there on the way home. Daniella has some…" he stopped and grinned, noticing that Beth had rested her head on the window and drifted soundly off to sleep. She looked completely exhausted, which surprised him, because the journey hadn't taken that long. Concern began to gnaw at him; she looked very much like she had a few months ago when she'd been constantly plagued by nightmares. It made sense to assume that they could have come back, triggered by Wendy's death. He hoped that wasn't the case, and made a mental note to ask her about it later. For now though, he let her sleep on, occasionally stealing glances and relishing the sight of her looking so peaceful.

As he drove along in the silence, he began to mull over what Gabriel had said to him – that he should just take a chance and tell Beth how he felt; but how?

"How do you bring up something like that?" he'd asked.

"You'll just know, man," Gabriel insisted.

How Gabriel knew that, he had no idea. His level of experience with women was nowhere near Miguel's. But then again, the few relationships he'd had, probably had ten times the depth to them than any of Miguel's, so he probably was better qualified to offer advice. It still didn't help him much, he wanted an exact 'how to' guide. This was uncharted waters for him, and felt as if he was back in the beginners pool with his water wings on, desperately feeling for the bottom and a solid purchase to stand on.

At least Gabe and his immediate family knew that this relationship was different, and he genuinely wanted to try and make it work. Everyone else just assumed it would turn out the same way the others did – a few weeks of lust and sex and then he'd get bored and move on. It had already been more than a few weeks and, even without sex, he felt closer to Beth than he had to any of the others, and that was more satisfying in so many ways than a few minutes of physical pleasure. When they did sleep together, it would be about opening up to each other and expressing their feelings, not a desperate lust fuelled fumble.

But that wasn't on his mind right now. What they had already was more than enough for him. Besides, he had other things on his mind, like what on earth the world was going to be like after the attack. Society was only 12 years out of a world war, and although a fragile peace had been obtained, the onset of deep sea colonisation and the ensuing territorial skirmishes ensured tensions were never far beneath the surface. Everyone knew it wouldn't take much to plunge them all into war again. The only thing preventing it was the existence of the UEO. No nation would dare go against a UEO aligned confederation for fear of having all the other aligned confederations come down on them. But now it seemed even that hold was growing more and more fragile as time passed.

These weren't things that used to bother him, but now he was out in the middle of it, he felt far more responsible, and as a consequence, they stuck in his mind.

There were matters close to home bothering him too, not least Leandro. But what plagued his mind most was figuring out what he wanted from his future, and where he wanted to be, literally. He'd always come back home because he had nowhere else, and because most of his pay went straight into helping his parents pay off their debts. But now the mortgage was paid for, the house was theirs, and they both had comfortable jobs, he could afford to think about himself, and he wasn't sure where he stood anymore.

Cuba would always be home – there was no doubt about that, but when he started his own family, was this where he wanted them to call home? He didn't think so. He'd experienced what could happen to a youngster if they chose the wrong direction and didn't get enough help, and he didn't want any of his children heading down the same way. Recently he'd been toying with the idea of buying an apartment in the States. New Cape Quest was the obvious choice, but San Francisco appealed to him too. It was something he'd definitely have to give a lot more thought to before broaching the subject with his family. He could imagine they'd be none too pleased with the idea.

It had been an hour since they'd left the airport and Beth hadn't moved at all, save for the gradual rise and fall of her chest. Although he felt bad to do it, she was right that he shouldn't let her sleep on, so he reached across and gently rubbed her shoulder until she stirred and looked up, disorientated.

"Hi," he said, smiling.

She groaned and stretched out the crick in her neck. "I told you not to let me sleep, how long was I out?"

"About an hour."

"Crap," she sighed.

"It's alright," he reassured. "You're on vacation. Nasty sleeping habits are part and parcel." He waited for a response, but instead she just sat there looking rather shocked and confused. "What is it?" he asked, concerned.

A smile crept to the corners of her mouth. "It's just what you said. When I think about it, I've never been on a vacation before."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I've never had a proper vacation."

"Well, this probably won't be a typical vacation. Being surrounded by my family isn't exactly your idea of fun I'm sure."

"It is," she insisted. "You've spoken about them so much it'll be good to get to know them."

"That's cute, but you're a really bad liar," he teased, causing them both to chuckle. "You do know this is a test, right?"

Beth glanced over with a smile. "I wouldn't have expected anything less. Your family wants to know whether I'm worth the heartache and pining I put you through these past few years."

"Hey," he replied, pointing his finger. "There was no pining." He sounded so desperate to preserve his masculinity that Beth couldn't help laughing. "There may have been a little heartache, however."

Touched by the admission, she reached over and placed her hand on the back of his neck. "I hurt too," she sighed.

At that moment, Miguel wished that he was doing anything but driving, so he could take her into his arms and hold her there. "Was Brody still at the house when you left?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah," she nodded. "He's leaving to go meet Jonathan in a couple of days."

"I still can't believe those two are spending vacation together."

"What do you mean?"

"They couldn't stand each other when the tour first started. Now they're best buds."

"Funny things happen on that sub."

"Yes they do. That's why I'll ever look at flowers the same way again," he joked.

"What tunes you got on here anyway?" she asked, fiddling with the music player. "Woah!!!" she exclaimed as thrash music began playing full blast through the speakers, and Miguel wound down the windows.

"I'm glad I brought my own!!!" she yelled.

"What?!?"

"Never mind!!!" she shouted, laughing.

Head banging along to the music and laughing at their own stupidity, they settled back to enjoy the rest of the drive.

***

Having seen the countryside flying by the window on their way east, Beth had to admit she'd been incredibly naïve about what Cuba would look like. She'd imagined sprawling towns in a state of disrepair, but instead what met her was a lush, cultivated landscape, studded with settlements, each with their own character and history.

Santa Clara was beautiful. The whitewashed and carefully designed buildings of the town centre gave way to quaint little neighbourhoods. They were virtually indistinguishable from each other; made up of the same arrangement of single storey, terracotta roofed houses, but Miguel assured her they were all quite different, and she could sense definite neighbourhood pride.

As they slowed down and pulled up in front of one of the houses, Beth noticed two familiar curly haired toddlers running around in the garden. This was obviously where Daniella lived.

Miguel laughed as their curious faces bobbed around the fence to get a good view. Upon realising it was their uncle come to play, their arms began waving frantically and they wobbled away to fetch their mother.

"We'll never get away from here," he joked. "They're like limpets." He locked the car and led Beth up to the front of the house, where the rich smells of seafood were wafting through the door. "You look terrified," he observed. Perhaps throwing her in among his family so early on hadn't been a great idea after all. He'd only been half serious about it being a test. In truth all he wanted was to spend some time with her off the boat.

"I just don't have much experience of children," she admitted nervously.

The very idea amused him. The girl had stood in front of hundreds to launch a marine reserve, and thrown herself in front of a nuclear explosion to save her friends, but put her in front of two toddlers and she was clueless. "They're not that scary."

"You have a big family," she retorted, as they walked through the door. "You probably grew up with loads of them running around."

Before he could reply, Daniella emerged from the kitchen to greet them, with the boys under her feet. "Hey!" she said, cheerily. "Hey, Beth, survived the trip alright?"

"Yeah, just a bit sleepy," she answered, shyly.

"That was pretty quick," Daniella commented, looking at the clock. "Didn't your flight just get in at one? You must have driven straight here."

"We had a bathroom break, but kept going the rest of the time," Miguel explained.

"Springs, springs?" a high-pitched voice spoke at his feet, and two little faces looked up at him expectantly. Beth, on the other hand, just looked confused.

"Trampoline," he translated. "Only if it's alright with your Mama."

"Yeah, go ahead," Daniella smiled. "But don't get them too riled up, it's almost dinner." She watched as Miguel scooped the two boys up in his arms and carried them out into the back garden. From the kitchen window, she and Beth could watch as they each took turns on the mini trampoline, while Miguel sat ready to catch them if they fell.

"Woah!" Beth exclaimed, suddenly noticing all the food set out around the kitchen. "I didn't think they ate that much."

"Oh, no!" Daniella laughed. "This is for the barbeque tomorrow."

"You're having a barbeque?"

"No, our aunt is. It's a family gathering for Miguel being home. Didn't he tell you?"

"No," she said, slightly worried. "I'm not invited am I?"

"Course," she smirked. "Don't worry, they'll only bite a couple of times but once they figure out you're not edible they'll lose interest," she teased.

Beth liked her already. Like her brother, there was no judgement, just instant acceptance. Sudden excited shrieks drew their attention to the garden, where Denver had found his water pistol, and was chasing Miguel round the garden.

Beth couldn't help but smile. The Miguel she knew was warm and kind, but very rarely had she glimpsed him so relaxed. Being on the boat probably had a lot to do with it; it was hard to let your guard down in that environment. "He's really good with them," she commented.

"Yeah, he's gonna make a great Daddy himself some day." She looked up from what she was doing to see Beth gazing out at them all, chuckling every now and then. The twinkle in her eyes was unmistakeable, and one that Daniella recognised. She didn't know much about this girl, but she'd seen enough to know she cared deeply for her brother, and that was good enough for now. She seemed nervous though, so in an effort to encourage her, she picked up another two water pistols from the toy box under the breakfast bar and began filling them in the sink. "Here," she said, handing one over to Beth, and motioning for her to come to the back door. "Go and join in, it'll help break the ice."

"Which…?"

"The one chasing Migs is Denver. Jasper has a little birth mark on the side of his neck," Daniella explained, knowing exactly what Beth was about to ask.

"Thank you," she smiled, and knelt down to creep over to where Jasper was standing. "Jasper," she whispered, catching his attention.

Behind her, unnoticed, Daniella nodded, reassuring Jasper that it was alright.

Keeping the water pistols hidden, she slipped one into Jaspers hands, and whispered some instructions.

"What are you two up to?" Miguel asked. Adorably, the backs of his trousers were soaked. Denver hadn't been able to reach any higher.

"Get him!!!" Beth said, pulling her pistol out from behind her back and prompting Jasper to do the same. Giggling, all three converged on Miguel, who, after a few circuits round the garden, feigned defeat and lay down on the grass, which thrilled the youngsters, as they were finally able to shoot something other than the backs of his legs.

Getting water sprayed in his face, Miguel blew a raspberry and shook his head, sending droplets flying in all directions, and rousing giggles from the boys, and Daniella.

Without warning, he launched upwards and grabbed Beth round the waist, hauling her over his shoulder, where held her, shrieking with laughter, in front of Denver and Jasper. "Get her, go on!!!" he told them.

Needing little encouragement, they headed straight for her; pistols aimed high and faces beaming.

'I'm going to need a change of clothes after this,' she thought, and closed her eyes, ready for the onslaught.

***

There wasn't any need to announce their arrival at Miguel's house. Before they even had a chance to swing their feet out of the car, Romona arrived at the front door with a welcoming smile.

"Hello," Beth smiled back as she walked towards her.

"Come in, come in, you must be tired." She placed a friendly arm around Beth's back and pulled it back, looking at her oddly. "What have you been doing? Your back is wet," she said, with a suspicious edge.

"We stopped off at Daniella's. There were some water pistols and it was three against one," Beth explained.

Romona's expression changed, and the smile returned to her eyes. "Good on you for getting stuck in. Come on in. Miguel, bring the bags," she shouted over her shoulder.

Beth looked back to see Miguel give a rather comical salute.

While he carried everything into the house, Romona gave her the guided tour. The main living area of the house was very open plan, with the large eating, living and dining area opening out onto the patio and the back garden. Only the bedrooms and the shower room were closed off, along a separate passage, which she was led along next.

"This is Miguel's room, where you'll both be sleeping."

Beth couldn't help but snap her head round to look at Romona in astonishment.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. You're grown adults. You really think I'm going to try and keep you apart? There's a spare room if you need it, but don't feel you have to use it. I was young once," she winked.

"Yeah, like a century ago," Miguel groaned as he crashed through the doorway with the bags, and thumped them on the floor, promptly receiving a thump from his mother in return for the comment. "Ah!" he laughed.

"I've made some food, but I wasn't sure how hungry you'd be so you can just come and help yourself when you feel like it," she told them. She paused in the doorway to give them a knowing glance, before walking back down the hall to the living area.

They both exhaled in the silence and laughed at the unusual awkwardness.

She was looking around her, taking in all the details of his sparsely furnished, but homely room. It might not have seemed much, but to him it was a sanctuary he'd always looked forward to coming home to. It had changed a lot over the years, as he had, but always felt like a safe place to be.

A bed, a few cabinets, wardrobe, bookcase and desk lined the walls, while various paintings, photographs and service awards sat on the furniture or hung above them. The colour was predominantly pale green. His mother had attempted to turn it blue, but he was determined not to fall under any sailor stereotypes and had resisted against it. Oddly enough, she was the first of his 'girlfriends' to see it. He'd never dared take any of them home before. That thought alone made her presence feel somewhat of an invasion, but a welcome one.

"Don't look too closely at the pictures," he warned her, sitting down and resting his back against the headboard of his bed. "Some of those are really old."

She simply laughed at him. "Don't worry, I'll have a closer look later." There were too many to have a detailed look at all at once, but one in particular caught her eye. For some reason she hadn't thought to find a picture of herself in his room. In fact there were two, one of which sat in a frame on the cabinet by the side of his bed. It was a recent one of the two of them, at the party after the ball, sitting cuddled up to each other on the sofa.

"I haven't seen this one yet," she mused. "There's never really been time to collect everyone's pictures."

"I've got quite a lot of them. I'll write them to a disk for you."

"Thanks."

He gently reached out to touch her arm, and inclined his head, indicating for her to sit next to him. She set down the picture and comfortably slipped into the crook of his arm, resting her head on his shoulder, as he wrapped his arm about her waist.

"So, how are you doing?" he asked.

"Ok, I guess," she admitted. "I thought going to the funeral would help, but I still feel like she's in my head, y'know? I miss her."

"It'll take time," he said, gently placing his hand over hers. "Just speak to me…when you need to."

"I will," she nodded, gratefully. "What about you? Has your mother stopped fussing yet?"

"Not a chance," he smiled. "They want to talk to me about it, because they think it'll help. But it's not as if I can tell them what happened. I've got to be careful what I say," he said, sadly.

"I'm sorry," she said, realising for the first time how difficult it must be for him to keep her secret. It had never occurred to her that it might make things awkward with his family. She brought her hand up to stroke his cheek, stroking it softly in silent apology.

"It's alright, Mariposa," he paused to kiss the hand at his cheek. "It's not something they need to know. Besides, a lot of what we do is classified. They're used to me keeping quiet."

Even though he'd made it sound as if he slightly resented her, he hoped she knew that wasn't the case, and that just having someone else around who knew what had gone on during the last few weeks, was a big enough source of support for him. It meant he didn't have to pretend all the time.

"That must be hard," she said.

"It's the military, it's what we do," he winked and grinned at her cheekily.

"You sound like an ad campaign. So, is there anything specific I shouldn't be telling them at this gathering tomorrow?"

His face changed immediately to one of childlike guilt, realising he'd been caught out. "Did Daniella tell you about that?"

"Who told me isn't the issue. When were you going to tell me?"

"Tonight sometime…when you were too tired to protest," he teased.

"Oh, gee, thanks."

"I thought you'd probably freak out."

"Damn right!" she laughed. "Small groups at a time I can handle. But the whole Ortiz clan at one time?"

Miguel just laughed. "They'll love you," he reassured. 'Just like I do,' he thought straight after. If there was a moment she happened to be scanning his thoughts, he wished it had been then, to save him the agonising over how to tell her.

"Hmm," she mumbled. He could tell she wasn't so sure about the gathering.

"Trust me," he told her, sincerely.

"I don't know if I'm up for that."

"Are you serious?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes."

"Beth, come on."

"What?"

"You don't mean that. This is important to me," he said, slightly agitated.

"Look, we've been through a lot lately. The last thing I want is to be paraded around like some piece of arm candy. I just want to spend time with you."

"Arm candy?" he mocked, aghast. "This isn't about you. I haven't seen my family in over a year."

She dipped her head and turned it away from him. "I'm sorry," she sighed, her head shaking in apparent disbelief at her own inconsideration.

"Where's this coming from?" he asked.

"It's just easier to hide," she admitted. "I don't like meeting new people."

"I thought you'd make allowances considering these people are my family."

"I know, I'm sorry," she repeated, leaning into him for reassurance. "I do appreciate you asking me to come here."

"What did you come for if you didn't want to meet them?"

"It's not that I don't want to meet them – of course I do. It's just the thought of meeting them all at once."

"Beth, are you hearing what you're saying? Get over yourself! They'll hardly be paying any attention to you. They don't see each other very often either," he fumed. With everything that had been rolling about his head lately, he had little patience for tending to her trivial concerns.

"Was that necessary?" she asked, surprised at his anger.

"I think I have a right to be angry when my girlfriend travels a few hundred miles to pay a visit, only to say, 'sorry, I don't want to meet your family.' I mean, what was the point?"

"Okay, to start with I never said I didn't want to meet them, and secondly, besides meeting your family, the point was to spend some time with you. I've said I'm sorry – I'm just over-reacting. I'm tired and I'm crabby and by the sounds of things you are too. What's going on?"

"Nothing," he grumbled, looking away. He released his frustration with an exaggerated sigh and in an instant his face changed as he realised she hadn't been the only one over-reacting. "I'm sorry."

Beth shook her head in bemusement. "Okay, so we're both sorry. Let's just call it quits. But for the record – I really am looking forward to meeting them. It just freaks me out a little, considering there are so many of them and you're so tight knit and all."

"Which is why," he said, leaning closer to her, "you'd have to be something pretty special to get an introduction," he winked.

"Special, huh?"

As her weight pressed firmly against his chest, he smiled and pulled her closer. "Did I say that?" he asked, his eyes glinting as he looked down at her, and delicately traced the outline of her face.

Though he needed no encouragement, she tucked a finger round the neck of his t-shirt and slowly pulled him down to her so their lips met in an affectionate, lingering kiss. It was the first time they'd been able to hold each other properly since the night before Miguel went on tour, so the spark between them blazed as their hands roamed over still newly discovered territory. It was a spark that both knew would all too easily burn out of control, and neither wanted that just yet, no matter what their pounding hearts told them.

"You fancy getting something to eat?" Beth asked, after they'd pulled apart.

"What, you mean besides you?" he teased.

She laughed heartily and gave him a gentle shove as she sat up. Again, she grasped the picture from the bedside cabinet and gazed at it, thoughtfully. "I bet there was some pining," she teased, as she set the picture down and headed for the door.

"Hey!" he said, pointing his finger again. "There was no pining!" he insisted, as they stepped into the hallway.

"There was definite pining," Romona's voice called from the kitchen.

Miguel chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Mama," he called, and led Beth through to get some food.

***

"Miguel," Romona whispered, pulling his attention away from the television. She jerked her head towards the figure seated next to him and, as he turned to look, an affectionate smile spread across his features.

They'd been sitting together in the living area engaged in conversation for the last few hours, the tone ranging from merry banter to serious discussion. Beth had contributed happily, spurred on by the interest his parents had shown in her, but the day finally appeared to have caught up with her as she now sat curled in on herself, head resting on her arm, sleeping.

He hadn't been entirely sure how they'd all deal with the situation, especially his parents. Even though it had been his mother's idea, she was still bound to be wary about this young woman who seemed to have influenced her son so much. But, after an hour or so of small talk and some stilted conversations, they seemed to have relaxed around each other and he realised his fears had been unfounded.

Sad at having to wake her for the second time that day, he reached out and gently patted her leg, trying to coax her out of her slumber.

She was quick to react, inhaling sharply and looking around her, dazed and confused, but also looking slightly fearful.

"Hey," he said softly, still rubbing her leg, reassuringly.

Her face relaxed and she sat up to stretch out the knots in her neck. "Sorry," she sighed.

Romona smiled warmly. "I think it's time someone got to bed. You'll need all your energy tomorrow to deal with all these wicked relations," she joked.

"Romona," Walker chuckled.

"Just ignore her," Miguel insisted.

Thankfully she didn't seem concerned, possibly because she still appeared to be half asleep. With a wave and an accompanying yawn, she bid them all goodnight.

"I'll be there in a minute," Miguel promised, watching her go.

"Is she alright?" Romona asked as soon as she heard the bathroom door click shut. Walker raised his eyes from the newspaper, clearly wondering the same thing.

"I don't think she's sleeping," Miguel admitted.

"Nightmares again?" Romona asked.

"I think so," he sighed. He'd told them both all about Beth's pill addiction when she first came aboard the seaQuest. After everything the family had been through, honesty had become a large part of the weave holding them together.

"I don't wonder," Walker sighed, concerned for them both. "It's a horrible thing you all went through."

"Yeah," was all he could think to respond with.

"Just make sure she knows you're there to support her," Walker told him, half-suggestion, half-question.

Miguel stood up, regarding both his father and the comment. "She knows, Papa," he said, and gripped him round the shoulder before also bidding them goodnight and heading to his room.

***

It was during their first night together at the ball that Miguel had realised just how wonderful it was to have someone curled up, asleep, in his arms. Now, again, with her back to his chest, Beth had drifted off, and for a while he had watched her, enjoying the soft sound of her laboured breathing and the warmth of her skin against his own.

Outside she looked the picture of peace, but he wondered just what, if anything, was going on inside. He didn't ponder it for too long though, as he nuzzled into the back of her neck and let sleep overcome him. It wasn't until he woke later to a cool chill, with no warm body beside him, did it become obvious that his suspicions had been right.

Beth stood by the window, arms wrapped round herself, gazing out into the distance, completely unaware that he was awake.

He cleared his throat, startling her. "Come back to bed," he said, holding open the blankets. She snuggled into them gratefully, her skin cool to the touch, and they lay face to face, gazing at each other in the darkness.

"So," he said softly, stroking her hair behind her ear. "You want to tell me how you really are?"

For a few seconds she said nothing, simply gazing at him, biting her lip and debating what to do. But the sincerity in his voice and compassion in his eyes were too much for her and he watched with pity as she brought her hands up to cover her face and dissolved into shuddering sobs.

All he could do was hold her, rhythmically stroking her hair and rubbing her back while she cried her sorrows into his chest.

"You don't have to be strong for me," he reassured.

"Why couldn't I save her?" she cried, anguished.

"What?"

She turned her tear filled eyes up to gaze at him. "She was right there, right beside me, and I let her die."

"You didn't let her die, Beth. You saved thousands of lives."

"But she still died."

He looked up and contemplated what to say, finding it difficult to understand why she continued to place so much blame on her shoulders. "You need to let this go."

"I don't want to let her go."

"I didn't say you needed to let her go. You need to let go of this guilt, and stop blaming yourself for not being able to save everybody," he said, a little more sternly.

"It's not that easy," she replied, as she nuzzled into his chest once more. "When you can do the things I can it's difficult not to hold yourself responsible for everything. I'm so tired," she whispered, once the sobbing had stopped completely.

Miguel propped himself up on his elbow so he could look down on her. "When did the nightmares come back?"

"While you were on patrol," she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"Ah, jeez," he said. "I'm sorry I ripped off at you earlier. If I'd known…"

"I was being an idiot, you were entitled," she insisted.

He sighed deeply in frustration, both for her, knowing how relieved she had been to rid herself of the nightmares, even if it had only been for a few days, and at the fact he hadn't been there to help her through it.

"Like you said, you can't be everywhere and save everyone," she said quietly.

He looked at her, surprised. "Are you scanning me?" he asked.

"Not deliberately. That one just…slipped through."

The innocence on her face caused his mouth to twitch in amusement. As their eyes locked onto each other through the darkness, he found himself being pulled into their depths, and rolled over to hold himself above her. He lay there for a time, just continually tracing the outline of her face, while she ran her fingers down his back, leaving trails of fire behind them. It wasn't long before their lips found each other, and they were lost in a prolonged, intense kiss – hungry for the intimacy they'd so long been denied.

***

The noise was unmistakable.

A repetitive, 'thud, thud, thud,' receding and advancing, followed by an excited shriek and usually a loud bang. It was also usually accompanied by trouble.

Lying in comfort, Miguel groaned, reluctant to leave the relative stillness of his room to confront the maelstrom of activity going on outside his door. Through half opened eyes, he could just make out the time on the clock – 0830.

Carefully, he turned over to face the opposite side of the bed. She was still there – and still sound asleep if the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest was anything to go by.

As he lay watching her, the torrent of emotions were astounding. The delights of having your partner so close at hand, and being able to see them when you first opened your eyes, were still fresh. He wished they could have been able to enjoy the moment together, but after the sleepless and emotionally draining night they'd had, he didn't want to wake her. There had been no more dreams or disturbances, but she needed all the sleep she could get, so after planting a gentle kiss on the side of her head, he grabbed some clothes and crept quietly from the room, leaving her in peace.

Almost immediately he found two attentive figures at his feet, chatting noisily – both vying for his attention.

"Shhh," he chided them, softly, "Beth's still sleeping," he whispered, and led them back along the hall to the living area, where Benton was reading the news bulletin.

"Hey troublemakers," he smiled, as Jasper and Denver climbed up on the couch next to him. "I see you found your friend," he indicated towards Miguel, who nodded with a smile and sat down next to them.

"I thought you only got a half day off," Miguel commented.

"I did, but I switched things around so I could watch these two. Did they wake you?"

"Was about time I was up anyway."

The twins giggled as Miguel's stomach unleashed a ferocious growl.

"About time I got breakfast too," he joked.

"Go with caution," Benton warned.

"Why?"

"The women are at work."

"Oh," Miguel grimaced and walked to the kitchen. Sure enough, Daniella and his Mama were hard at work preparing all manner of treats for the gathering.

"Buenos dias," he greeted both of them. "We didn't wake you last night did we?" he asked Romona.

"Woah!" Daniella exclaimed, holding up her hands in protest. "It is way too early in the day to be discussing your nocturnal mating habits!" she quipped.

"Funny," he commented, dryly. "Beth's been having nightmares again."

"Oh, is she alright?"

"Not really, but she will be."

"You look tired," Romona commented, placing a hand on her son's arm.

"Yeah," he grimaced. "There could be a few sleepless nights ahead, and not," he said, pointing at his sister, "for the reason you think."

"I was just assuming," she defended. "I didn't realise she was still having problems. She's not back on the pills is she?"

"No!" he snapped. "She's over that."

"Alright," Daniella held up her hands in defence.

"Is she feeling up to this?" Romona asked, referring to the family gathering.

"She'll be fine, yeah."

"What does she have for breakfast?"

"There isn't a lot on offer on the boat – she usually just has cereal and juice. I was gonna take something through to her."

"Well, suit yourself," she sighed. "Just make sure you're both ready in plenty of time. I want to take some pictures before we leave."

"Great," he mumbled.

"Pardon?"

"I said great," he smiled, enthusiastically.

"I bet you did," Romona chided, giving him a gentle smack with a wooden spoon. "Get out of here, you're in the way."

"Yes, Ma'am," he mocked, and walked away, carrying a tray of food. "I see what you mean," he commented to Benton as he passed.

He simply laughed, both at the comment and at the two little noses following the food as it passed by them. "Can you give me a minute later?" he asked.

"Sure," Miguel nodded. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, I just need a word about something."

"Ok," he smiled, nervously, wondering what the secrecy was about. Balancing the tray on one arm, he silently re-opened his door and crept back into the room.

Beth still lay on her side, peacefully unaware of all the commotion, the picture of contentment, until he stumbled and the tray rattled, noisily, in his hands.

She stirred, groaning in confusion, and rolled over to look at him.

"Sorry," he said, sheepishly. "Morning."

"Morning," she replied, smiling with amusement, as he set the tray down on the bed and seated himself next to her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I just woke up, give me a chance," she quipped, pulling herself up to sit next to him. "This looks good."

"It's just what I could grab from the kitchen before I was thrown out," he joked. "The party preparations are in full swing."

"Great."

Miguel couldn't help but notice the sarcastic edge. "It's one afternoon. No atomic bombs, no national security threats, no dodging laser fire – just you and me…"

"and all your family," she smiled, cheekily.

"I mean its just people. Surely you can survive that."

"Yeah, yeah," she mocked, "Shove this down your throat and stop lecturing. Let a girl wake up first," she said, stuffing a bread roll into his mouth. She laughed as he mumbled in protest, and shuffled over to rest against him.

Once they'd eaten she remained resting in his arms. He could see her having another scan of the room, taking note of all his possessions and trying to glean what information she could from them. It made him nervous. Leandro was in several of the family portraits, so it was only a matter of time before she started asking about him.

"Is your brother going to be there today?" she asked.

'I don't know why I'm surprised – she's a telepath,' he sighed, although he wasn't convinced the two thought patterns were related. It was probably just a coincidence. "No, he's…not around right now," he said, abruptly.

"Oh."

He cringed, silently, knowing that explanation wouldn't keep her curiosity at bay for long. That was one aspect of relationships he wasn't exactly comfortable with – dragging up painful memories. He just had to keep reminding himself not to get angry with her for it. It was his problem, not hers.

"There's another relative that's not going to be around that you should know about," he added.

"Oh?"

"Aunt Greta, on Papa's side."

"Where is she?"

"She's in cryostasis, in Hialeah," he explained.

"Oh. Wow. Why?" she asked, turning round further to face him.

"Terminal cancer," he said sadly.

"God, I'm sorry."

"She's been in for about five years now, but the family still talk about her like she's still in the next room y'know? Just thought I'd give you a heads up."

"Thanks," she said, giving his chest a pat. "I should get dressed," she said, suddenly. "Alright if I have a shower?"

"Even better - have a bath. Benton said he wanted to talk to me about something anyway."

"Cool."

Reluctantly, he released her from his grasp and watched as she rummaged around in her bags for all the bits and bobs she'd need. He still didn't, and probably never would, understand how women could justify carrying around so much crap with them. Beth, he had to admit, was a lot better than most, but she still had her weaknesses – trinkets and mementos being but one. Everywhere she went she had to carry something with her that reminded her of all the good things in her life. Whether it be a photograph, crumpled up in her pocket, or the necklace he had given her, or one of Bill's cufflinks; she always had something.

"What's the dress code? Formal? Casual? Smart-casual?" she asked.

"Probably smart-casual."

"So I'd get away with jeans and a top of some kind?"

"What about a dress?"

"A dress?" she mocked, snapping her head up to look at him. "I don't think so."

"Why not? You'll cook in jeans."

"No. I skirt maybe, but no dress."

"Alright," he laughed.

She continued digging in her suitcase, but turned as the door handle was rattled. She looked to Miguel, who had stood up from the bed and was making his way over to the door, grinning.

"The twins are here," he explained.

The door handle continued to rattle again. He waited, teasing, before turning it from their side and opening it to let them in.

Instead of their usual boisterousness, they stood shyly, reluctant to enter.

"Are you coming in to say hello?" he asked.

He received no answer, only cheekily quiet grins. Knowing someone else was in the room made them wary.

He pushed the door open further so they could see Beth sitting behind it.

"Hi," she smiled, and laughed at their beaming faces, which in turn burst into nervous giggles.

"What are you so quiet for, huh?" Miguel asked, grabbing Jasper round the waist and pulling him onto his lap.

Eager not to be left out, Denver toddled into the room and grabbed Miguel from behind, trying to climb on his back.

The affection these two boys had for him was touching. Still digging through her bag, Beth pulled out her camera and quickly took a picture.

"Hey!" he moaned, both at the picture being taken and at Denver tugging on his shirt, still trying to climb up on him.

"Here," Beth said, stepping over the chaos to stand next to him. She gently placed her hands round Denver's waist and lifted him up onto Miguel's shoulders. He immediately started shrieking excitedly, as did Jasper.

"What's going on down there?" Benton shouted down the hall.

"No!" Jasper called, concerned the fun was about to be spoiled. He got up from Miguel's lap and pushed the door shut in Benton's face.

"Excuse me?" he said, amused.

"Jasper, open the door," Miguel chided, taking Denver down from his shoulders. Together, the two of them rushed to the door, almost knocking each other over in their effort to open it.

"You've found your friend again, huh?" Benton asked as he entered. "Morning, sorry for the intrusion."

"That's ok," Beth smiled. "I'm not used to kids so it's a novelty."

"The novelty soon wears off, believe me! Come on you two," he said, gesturing for them to leave the room. "You've got no business being in here."

"No, don't be silly. I'm just going to get dressed," she said and moved back to collect her clothes and wash bag, before slipping out the door.

"Fancy coming to kick a ball about in the garden?" he asked Miguel.

"Sure," he nodded.

***

"Stop that! You've already had three – no more right now!" Daniella barked, battling with Jasper, who was greedily eyeing the tray of candies on the table.

The twins had been careering around all afternoon being pampered and fussed over by each and every member of the family, but now they were beginning to get grouchy. They'd already had to be separated as the squabbling had set in. Now Jasper was sulking by his mother, while Denver was dozing in his fathers' arms. The party wasn't likely to be ending anytime soon so they'd need to consider putting them down for a rest.

"Too much excitement," Miguel commented to Benton.

"Are you kidding? Life is a permanent excitement for these two," he chuckled.

"Hey," they both greeted as Miguel's cousin, Alvaro, sat on the seats next to them.

"You all talked out yet?" he asked.

"I was talked out within half an hour," Miguel replied. "How about you?"

"I'm considering getting, 'I'm fine, no I don't have a girlfriend, I'm still studying at UH and no I don't know what I want to do when I graduate,' stamped on my forehead," he joked. "What's your speech?"

"Uh," he thought, "probably, 'I'm doing alright, yes I'm still in the navy, no I wasn't hurt in the attack, yes I've got my girlfriend here with me, we've been together a few months, and if you comment on my past relationships I might hit you.'"

Benton and Alvaro both laughed, loudly enough that they disturbed Denver, who simply turned his head over to nuzzle into Benton's neck and, with a sigh, slipped back into sleep.

Even though they all appreciated seeing each other and catching up on news, repeating the same story time and again began to wear a little thin after the tenth repetition.

"Have they torn her apart and started chewing at her insides yet?" Alvaro teased.

"They're not that bad!"

"This is my mother and your mother we're talking about here!"

"I haven't actually seen her for the last hour."

"She's alright. Daniella's been keeping an eye on her," Benton reassured.

"Everyone alright for drinks?" Alvaro's mother, Amina, asked as she walked by.

"We're good, thanks," Miguel told her.

"I've just been speaking to Beth – she's lovely, Miguel," she smiled.

"Thanks," he said, shyly.

"See?" Alvaro asked, laughing. "So, just tell me to mind my own business, but I heard you were actually there; part of the squad that took down those terrorists."

Benton looked at Miguel nervously, knowing that it wasn't a subject he really wanted to be discussing, least of all with the younger of his two male cousins. At 22, he was too young to be hearing about the grim realities of the world. He was still studying, and his head was full of dreams for the future – something Miguel wished he had been able to cling onto himself as a youngster.

"Uh, yeah, I was there, but I can't really talk about that – you know how it is," Miguel excused.

"Right, no, yeah, I was just curious."

"Alvaro!" Amina called from behind them. "Come help me with this!"

"Man, I hate being the young one!" he moaned, giving Miguel and Benton a laugh.

Again, Denver stirred on his shoulder.

"Aw, buddy, I think we'd better get you to bed."

"No," the little voice complained, rubbing his eyes and trying to feign alertness.

"Yes," Benton insisted. "Where's your mama?" he asked, rhetorically, standing up to look around.

"Time for a nap?" Walker asked as he appeared beside them.

"Yeah, any idea where Daniella is?" Benton asked.

"Last I saw she was inside with her aunt."

"You mean the one that just walked past?" Miguel asked.

"No, the other one."

"This family's so big I still get confused!" Benton exclaimed. "I'm gonna head inside and see if I can find her."

"I'll come with you – I might track down my other half along the way," he joked.

"That's if there's anything left of her."

It took them a good five minutes to travel the short distance to the kitchen, having to constantly stop and greet people they still hadn't properly spoken to, during which time Denver became even more grouchy, to the point that when they eventually met his mother he held out his arms to her, begging to be taken into her embrace.

"Oh dear," she laughed as he clung onto her neck.

"Where's Jasper?" Benton asked.

"Asleep in Alvaro's room. Do you want to put him down or shall I do it?" she asked, referring to Denver.

"Mama do it," Denver insisted.

"I guess that decides that one," she winked, and after leaning in to give Benton a quick kiss, made to walk towards the stairs.

"Before you go, have you seen Beth anywhere?" Miguel asked.

"Yeah, she's in the lounge with Moira and Eden," she shouted back.

Upon hearing that, any concern he'd had for her whereabouts were set at ease. Moira – his aunt on his mother's side – and her daughter, Eden, were both friendly, easy going women who never asked for much in a conversation.

Upon entering the lounge he couldn't see them. Seated on the couch was his cousin, Dane – someone he hadn't seen or spoken to much over the years. They'd greeted each other earlier but hadn't really had the chance to talk. Whether that was deliberate or accidental, Miguel didn't know.

Five years his senior, Dane had been close to Leandro, but had wisely cut him off once his life had taken a darker turn. Leandro's past seemed to have cut a sizeable wedge through any family relations there might once have been between them.

"Hiding?" Miguel asked, as he sat next to him.

"Not on purpose. How's it going?"

"Tiring," he groaned.

"I'll bet. So what you been doing since you got back?"

"This and that – catching up with some friends, helping Daniella with the house…I, uh, I went to see Leandro."

"Oh?" Dane asked, coldly. "How is he?"

"Surviving, I think. Couldn't really tell."

"First time you've been?"

"Yeah."

Dane nodded. "I've got a friend in there. You can't expect much from one visit."

"No, I guess not."

"Can't believe how big your sister's kids have got."

"Tell me about it; I hate to miss them growing up. You not got little ones on the horizon?" Miguel asked, taking a drink out of his beer bottle.

"We've only been married a year – plenty time for that. Besides – we can't really afford it right now – we're still paying a lot for the house."

"Yeah, thank God my folks have theirs' paid off. That was one big drain on my bank balance. I mean, not that I don't like helping them out – it's just that…"

"You want to start putting some of that cash into your own foundations?"

"Exactly. Speaking of which," he said, as Moira, Eden and Beth reappeared. "Hey," he smiled. "Was starting to think they'd kidnapped you."

"Eden was just showing me her art portfolio," Beth explained. "Who would have known that creativity ran in the family?"

"What are you trying to say?" he asked, feigning offence.

"That you inherited none of it!" she laughed.

A frantic hand wave by the door caught his attention. The others around him looked on with curiosity as he and Benton engaged in a complex series and head nods and hand gestures. With one final nod he stood up and announced, "Uh, excuse me, sorry, could I get everyone to gather outside on the lawn, please?"

"What's going on?" Beth asked.

"Just wait and see like everyone else," he teased. "Would you help me out with Abuela?"

"Sure," she nodded, and walked with him over to where his grandmother was seated.

"We're going to go outside," he told her.

"What for?" she asked, protesting.

"It's a surprise."

"I'm too old for surprises," she joked, taking her stick in one hand and Beth's arm with the other.

"I'll go and get a chair ready," he said, disappearing ahead of them. The commotion had spread to the guests outside. He smiled to himself as he listened to the excited, curious chatter. It was brilliant to be included in the plan sometimes.

"Miguel, que pasa?" Alvaro asked grabbing a leg of the chair and helping him move it across the grass.

"Espere justo," he told him with a grin. His cousin sighed in annoyance and slunk away to find a good place to stand. Slowly Beth and his Abeula were making their way towards him.

"Soy demasiado viejo para todo este correr de aquí para allá," she complained as he helped lower her into the chair.

"Es sólo para un minuto," he promised

"You alright?" he asked, wrapping his arm around Beth and pulling her in close to him.

"Yeah, just a little confused."

"We need to be up front," he said, walking her past everyone.

"Why?"

"Wait here – I'll be right back," he said, and made his way quickly back through the crowd to find Daniella. He found her on her way back down the stairs.

"Where's everyone?" she asked.

"Outside," he replied, gesturing for her to head in the same direction.

"What's happening?"

"Don't know," he answered, positioning her at the front of the assembly.

Benton appeared beside them shortly afterwards, looking as bemused as the rest of them. Daniella eyed him suspiciously – he didn't look himself.

She was right to be wary, because suddenly, without warning, he took her by the hand and led her forward to stand in front of everyone.

"What the hell are you doing?" she barked in protest, embarrassed at the unwanted attention.

Miguel, who was in on the scam, or at least had been since that morning, simply wrapped his arms around his girl; contented to watch and wait.

The gathering of relatives had all fallen silent, eyes fixed on the two figures standing awkwardly in front of them.

Benton nervously cleared his throat and turned Daniella to face him. "More than three years ago," he began, shakily, "I asked you to be my wife, and you told me you wanted to wait. So, I've waited – and now we have two beautiful little boys, we have our house, we have three goldfish and we still have each other, and I still love you as much now as I did then."

There was a collective intake of breath as everyone realised what was happening and Benton composed himself enough to bend down on one knee. From his pocket he produced a small box.

"I would like nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you," he announced. "Will you marry me?" he asked, clearly, opening in the box to reveal a stunning gold-banded diamond ring.

Mirroring Daniella, Beth clamped her hand over her mouth in delighted surprise, and felt unexpectedly overwhelmed as Miguel pulled her closer to him. She'd never witnessed such an expression of love first hand before. Neither had Miguel for that matter, and it made his heart swell with all the unexpressed love he held for the woman he grasped in his arms. That love only magnified as a delighted Daniella agreed to the proposal, and threw her arms around her now fiancé – tears streaming down her face.

A similarly emotional family all cheered and clapped – as happy as the couple in front of them. Many surged forward to congratulate them, but it was her immediate family who received the first excited embraces.

"You knew about this?" Daniella barked at her brother, slapping him playfully across the arm. "You're a pair of bastards you know that?"

"Even your papa? – I asked his permission last month," Benton admitted.

"God! What?" she stuttered, still too overwhelmed to form coherent thoughts. Before she could say anything more, she was swept up in another embrace, so Miguel left her to enjoy the moment and returned to stand back behind Beth – wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her close.

Together they watched the scene, smiling silently to themselves, reflecting internally on the emotions that were being stirred.

The first she knew of anything being amiss was a warm face pressed against hers, before a voice whispered softly in her ear.

"I love you," he admitted, tenderly.

The confession was something she hadn't been expecting, so at first she froze, shocked, under his touch, as her mind tried to make sense of what this meant.

It wasn't the words, as such, that scared her; it was having to admit to herself that she felt the same, and having to summon the courage to admit those feelings to him.

If Miguel was honest with himself, he hadn't said it with the intention of forcing her to return the sentiment, but rather because he needed to say it. It had been churning inside for so long that he needed to let it out and admit how he felt; that alone was enough of a relief, so for her to express any kind of reciprocating feelings would have been a bonus.

Only he hadn't been prepared for the way in which she did it.

Clearly feeling unable to show her feelings in front of so many relative strangers, instead she turned her head to face him and, looking him straight in the eyes, wrapped her mind around his, sharing all the love she felt for him in return.

'I love you,' she spoke silently.

The words were soothing. From his previous experiences with telepathy, both first hand and as a bystander, he'd expected the sensation to be jarring, but instead he found himself so drawn into her that he could easily have completely lost himself in her, and quite happily never returned.

But that wasn't to be, and as she withdrew from his mind, he was brought back to reality and all the sounds and commotion that came with it.

Things had been so silent, so still, and so calm, and as he gazed into her eyes, smiling contentedly, all he wanted was to return to that place.

***

"That went a lot better than I expected," Miguel mused, collapsing onto the bed where Beth was sat pulling off her shoes. The two of them had returned to the house early – tired and in need of some time away from everyone.

"In more ways than one," she agreed, swinging her legs onto the bed and laying next to him. He immediately rolled over to lie above her – his eyes glinting mischievously. "I'm glad you talked me into that," she admitted.

"I'm glad you agreed. I knew you'd rise to the occasion," he winked, causing her to smile in delight before they were lost in each other, their mouths eagerly kissing, tasting – skin and lips.

"Speaking of rising to the occasion," she sighed in response to the pressure building against her belly.

Her breath whispered in his ear, making his blood quicken even more.

They gazed at one another – uncertainty and question plain in their eyes, both unwilling to make the first move, one which would lead them down that inevitable path, instead relishing the moment in between.

His hands were wandering, reaching down to trace the length of her thigh, moving higher, his fingers barely touching – teasing. Touch wasn't necessary – she didn't need to feel him to know he was there. And then his whole hand, gripping her tightly – the sudden contact forcing her eyes closed and her breath to inhale sharply as his hands and fingers continued their delicate trail across her skin.

He watched her beneath him, struggling just as much to keep himself in check. It had been a long time since he'd been so intimate with a woman, and never before with one he cared so much for. He allowed his eyes to roam, taking in every detail, every smell, every sensation. He loved the way she tickled the soles of his feet with her toes when they lay together, even though it took all his might not to laugh. He loved how she held her mouth open slightly, waiting for him to kiss her, and letting him know that she wanted him. Her eyelids quivered as he brought his hand up to stroke the side of her face. He wanted her badly – the ache was more real than ever. But as he finally succumbed and their lips met in ferocious hunger, something didn't feel right.

"I can't do this," he said, pulling back suddenly. "I have to tell you something."

"What?" she asked, worried, cupping his face in her hands.

He rolled away from her, lying on his back by her side, staring up at the ceiling. He breathed heavily, trying to distract himself from what his body clearly thought he should be doing. "My brother, Leandro…"

"What about him?"

"He's in prison. He killed someone, and I saw him do it."

"What?" she asked in disbelief. Propped up on one elbow, looking down at him, she waited, eager to hear the rest of the story.

"It was just after I'd left school. I didn't know what I was doing with my life, so I spent a lot of time with him – getting into trouble for most of it. He was…into drugs, and all sorts of other stuff that I didn't want to know about. But, he was my brother and he was looking out for me, and that's what I needed. I was confused." He reached out for the hand lying on his chest, and grasped it for strength.

"What happened?"

"We, um, we went looking for a fix one night…"

"You were…taking drugs?" she stuttered.

"I was just the driver – they wouldn't let me near the heavy stuff," he defended.

"Right, sorry. I just, thought you were totally against that kind of thing."

"I am now, but back then things were a lot more blurry. Anyway, to cut it short, we were set up by a group across town and the cops raided us. Leandro was high – he couldn't think – he just…did it. He shot at one of the cops and the man died, right there."

"My God."

"I just watched him," he said, shaking his head. "This guy had a wife, a family, a little kid he was supporting and I watched him die. He was writhing and there was blood everywhere, and the other cops were screaming at us, pointing their guns at our heads. It took three of them to get the gun off Leandro." He paused, reflecting on the horror those memories would always be associated with and how best to express it in words. "The judge let me go on the condition that I join the navy. But Leandro – his life is practically over."

"He'll still have a chance to build a life for himself when he gets out."

"You don't get it. He was a good guy. This will either take him back to that, or it will destroy him." He thought back to how he'd been when he visited him the other day, and realised it was probably going to be the latter. "I've never been to see him since he was sentenced…until I went two days ago."

"How was he?"

"Changed – he's never going to be the same person."

"Maybe that's a good thing," she suggested.

"It was like he barely even knew me - like everything we'd been through just hadn't happened."

"Miguel, after this long, he probably thought you'd given up on him."

He snapped his eyes towards her, "I have not given up on him," he barked.

"Then tell him that!"

He remained glaring at her, before turning his head away, realising she was right. "I could have stopped all this."

She sighed, shaking her head, and lay down to rest against his chest. "That kind of thinking gets you no…"

"I gave him the gun!" he said sternly, startling her. She remained silent; sensing that the only thing she could do for him now was listen.

"The cop cars started to pull up, and he yelled to me to give him his gun from the glove compartment. I sat with it in my hands and I knew that if I gave it to him he'd use it. I knew, and I still gave it to him."

"You couldn't have known that."

"I did – I knew him, and I knew what that stuff did to him. It messes with your head – makes you see things that aren't there."

"You don't need to tell me that," she joked, dryly.

"That man died because I didn't have the guts to stand up to my own brother."

Although he didn't say it outright – it was becoming clearer that this wasn't just something he felt he had to share for her benefit – but something he needed to release for himself. It was something only he and Leandro had known…until now.

"You may have given him the gun, but it wasn't you who chose to pull the trigger. That's something he is going to have to live with – not you."

"I wish it had never happened."

"I don't."

The comment surprised him, and he looked across at her questioningly.

"Call it selfish, but if it hadn't happened – you would never have joined the navy. And if I hadn't met you, I'd probably be dead."

"Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true! Why do you keep playing down how much good you do for people? You turned my life around, and you can do the same for him. You just have to lead him down the right path."

"I don't know how," he croaked, running his hand through his hair.

"You be there for him – you don't give up, no matter how much they might want to."

"Yeah," he sighed, lying silent for a few moments. She had a point. "I'm sorry," he said, shuffling out from under her so he lay above her once more, "I just needed to tell you."

"No, it's ok. It explains a lot actually; like why you were so hard on me about the sleeping pills."

"I couldn't see you go the same way as him," he said, pressing his head against hers.

"And what you told me when we first met, about your parents and not being able to afford college…that wasn't true," she stated, rather than asking, already knowing it was the truth.

"We all have our secrets," he joked, dryly.

"You're even stronger than I thought," she admitted, lifting her head slightly to kiss him gently on his forehead.

He exhaled deeply, shuddering as he did so, with both relief and the yearning that had overtaken him again. "God, I love you," he sighed, brushing his lips against hers before pressing down on them, hard.

She responded with the same need, pushing her hands up beneath his shirt, relishing in the weight of his body pressing against hers.

"Man, your hands are cold," he joked, sitting up on his knees to unbutton his shirt slightly, enough to pull it over his head. She took the opportunity to do the same, shrugging off her top and throwing it to the floor.

There was no hurry to lie back down. As they knelt face to face, her fingers entwined in his hair, she pulled his mouth back to encompass hers.

She couldn't help but laugh, though, as he grappled with the clasp of her bra – getting nowhere fast.

"God damn you woman!" he exclaimed, pulling their mouths apart.

"It's at the front," she panted.

He raised an eyebrow, impressed. "You do mean business."

With that out of the way, they entwined again, sighing in contentment at the feel of their warm bodies pressed against each other – skin finally greeting skin and responding with shivers of welcome.

The surge of adrenaline began to take effect, making his mind swirl and his breathing rasp as her hands moved lower, eventually fumbling with the button on his jeans and pulling down the zipper. 'God it's been a long time.'

"Your hands better be a bit warmer," he teased, and breathed a sigh of relief and pleasure as he realised that they were indeed warmer – in fact they burned – everywhere she touched, it burned.

He sidestepped off the bed, pulling off what remained of his clothes, and leaned over her, grasping her legs gently and swivelling her round to face him. Her stomach quivered as he prized his fingers beneath the waistbands of her skirt and underwear, moving them slowly down her legs – his touch caressing, teasing.

The sudden exposure made her shudder, and she welcomed him back into her arms gratefully, relishing in the searing heat of his skin, as saturated as her own. She held him firmly against her, allowing his mouth and hands to explore.

"Wait," she gasped, suddenly.

"What?"

"I've never done this before," she squirmed, as he devoured her neck in a sequence of kisses that left her struggling to maintain her train of thought. "Miguel, stop for a second." She pulled his face up to look at her. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"It's alright," he reassured, resuming those excruciating kisses.

"Miguel!" she gasped.

His body shook as he laughed involuntarily, and gazed down at her. "Would you just shut-up?"

An enormous smile spread across her face, which quickly succumbed to desire as he leaned down towards her and their lips met urgently once more.

He moved the kisses away from her mouth, travelling downwards at an agonising pace. His breath fluttered against her skin as her own came in thin gasps of amazement at feeling such ecstasy from so little contact. She longed for him, and yet the suspense was electrifying.

The fingers curled round his hair pulled him back up to face her, and there they lay – drifting between passion and tenderness as their lips came together, time and again, and moments of stillness, gazing at one another, judging whether the other was ready, and absorbing the beauty of the moment.

He was so close now; she could feel him near.

There – that familiar tickle on the soles of his feet, then movement beneath him as she readied herself – needing him – wanting him, desperately now.

With a smile, he placed his lips over hers and as he entered her, faster than he meant to, she released a sound of satisfaction and pain so perfect that he would anticipate it each time from then on. He paused at that moment, taking time to appreciate how it felt to fit inside the woman he loved. Warm, soft, secure; an exact reflection on their relationship.

"You alright?" he asked, shuddering with the effort. He barely had time to wait for the nodding response before his body succumbed, forcing him deeper into her.

The more he gave to her, the more she gave in return – moving with him, losing herself in the sensations and losing all grasp she had on the normally strict controls she held over her mind.

She gripped him tighter. Everything she wanted, she told him. Everything she felt, she shared with him; all restraints lifted, releasing a flow of thoughts and euphoric emotion that dizzied them both. He understood her – he understood what she needed and he gave it freely and eagerly, heightening the physical and emotional connection.

The experience was euphoric – mixed with the flow of hormones and adrenaline; the sensual pleasure; was the conscious realisation that he could feel her – he could feel her body moving beneath his, but he could also feel her joy, he could feel how aroused she was, and he could feel the love she felt for him radiating from her – the same love she sent flooding into his mind; flowing through his entire body, making him feel safer and more alive than he ever had before.

***

Everything was still the same.

The guards still took far more pleasure than was necessary in stripping a person of their personal belongings and inducing a state of guilt for simply being associated with what waited beyond the gates.

The building itself still managed to rob any sense of brightness from the light that filtered through its' windows, and he was fairly certain he'd still receive the same derogatory stares from the wardens on his way to the booths.

But despite that, it didn't seem so menacing anymore. He no longer felt obliged to lower his head for being in such a place, instead filled with a determination to let his brother know that no matter what had happened between them in the past, he wasn't about to abandon him now. He wasn't going to give him that excuse.

The man who eventually joined him on the other side of the booth looked even worse than the man he'd seen only a week previously. His eyes were sunken in a face that looked as though it had disagreed too many times with someone's fist. He looked as if he didn't want to be there – the purpled marks he'd shown off with pride to his inmates now only stood as a reminder of how separated he was from the world he was once a part of. His obvious shame made Miguel hesitate – debating whether his plan was such a good idea after all.

'No,' he decided. 'This needs to happen, and this needs to happen now, before he gets any worse.'

With that spark of courage, he picked up the receiver, signalling for Leandro to do the same.

"Hey," he barked, gruffly.

"Hey," Miguel replied, making sure to catch his attention, forcing him to look him dead in the eye. "I need you to know something."

"What now?" Leandro smirked. "You got your woman pregnant?"

He refused to rise to the taunting, instead holding his ground, glaring back unaffected. "I'm not giving up on you," he said simply.

On the other side of the partition, Leandro's face froze, revealing for a second the vulnerability buried inside. He swallowed, and leaned back in his chair, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, before nodding resolutely.

As Miguel watched, checking his eyes for some sign the message had got through, he saw a flicker of something that had been missing in his brother for as long as he could remember…

…hope.