I originally wrote this for my own sake (because I'm old and lonely), but I thought, everyone deserves some pointless the sean/puck fluff.

the kendricks are the power couple ya

Disclaimer: I don't own The Scorpio Races or its characters, they are Maggie Stiefvater's.

The sun shines on the cliff grass and the wind dances around them. Here, just as the sun is setting, everything is a picturesque shade of orange. I am sitting on the cliffs, waiting—hoping—for Puck to show up. After the last few weeks before the races, I have come to know this place as our sanctuary; a place where we can most be like ourselves. This has not been true for the past three days.

It has been three days since I have released Corr to be with the ocean again; three days since he turned back from it and came back to me. After that moment, Puck and George Holly left the cliffs to let me have my moment with Corr alone. I have not seen Puck since.

The first day, I turned all my attention to Corr. I gave him good meat to eat, brushed him, and kept him company. At the end of the day, I went by the cliffs and had not seen her there. The second day, I went back to my father's house. I walked towards the north-western sea, not letting anything but the wind change my direction, just how I imagined it to be. Except in my reality, I first walked by the Connolly's house to look for Puck. Standing awkwardly in their doorway, I asked Finn where she was. He said she's in the Malvern Yard, and then nothing else.

The third day, I woke up in my childhood bed; sunlight shining through the windows the first view I see as I open my eyes. The feeling is unfamiliar after waking up in my small flat above the stable for nine years. For the first hours of the morning, I made some tidying of my father's house, and tried to get used to it again. And then my feet, as if by its own will, dragged me to Skarmouth and to the Malvern Yard. It was as familiar as it ever was, but now somehow I see it in a different light; still the same beautiful walls, the same horses that I loved, but now I don't feel a restriction. Small talk, banter, and calls of "ho, Kendrick!" were sent to my direction as I enter, and I went through asking for Puck's whereabouts. Nobody knows where she is. I went about the whole stable, but still I see no trace of her. I felt unsettled, having not seen her for three days.

Now I am sitting by the cliffs, looking out the sea, feeling hollow that it's been days since I've last seen her. Usually this place is where I can think most clearly, but now my mind is a jumble of thoughts and questions of Puck and her whereabouts and did she not want to see me once the race is done? Or did Malvern set some rules regarding our relationship?

My eyes search the sea, listening both to the music of overlapping waves and for any incoming footsteps. The sea appears to be calm today, and I try to be the sea.

—o—

Malvern's tea tastes as peculiar as it was the first time I tasted it. I chose to say "peculiar" as a form of consideration. I am working for his yard after all.

"Well, Puck Connolly," said Benjamin Malvern looking at me square in the eye. There is a pause after my name which I think was supposed to be terrifying. "In few short days, you proved to be a worthy employee. That doesn't mean, though, that you can switch the horses' stalls unless I, or the head groom, tells you to. That is not the rules of this yard."

There is, of course, a rightful reason to why I switched the stalls of the two horses, Idanna and Turk. I could've asked the permission of the new head groom, but I'm fairly sure that he's incapable of making good decisions with the size of his brain. I don't say this to Malvern though.

When I stay silent he continues, "I know you're not much by the rules, Miss Connolly, but you don't own this yard—have barely been working in it—so I pray that you abide to my regulations, even just or the first few months. Do we have an understanding?"

With my sincerest look, I nod and say to him, "Yes, Mr. Malvern."

He seems satisfied with my answer. Malvern leans back on his seat, regarding me. "And how is your pair with Sean Kendrick, if I may ask?"

I sip on my carpet tea. "Well on training," I reply.

"Hmm."

Not wanting to have this conversation with Malvern, I stand up quickly, say my thanks for the tea, and bolt out of the door and into Skarmouth.

—o—

It must have been minutes of staring into the sea and the cold enveloping me, when, finally, I hear the sound footsteps approaching, and not much else. I try to keep my eyes look straight to the horizon, as I hear the rustling of grass and clothing and deliberate noise as she sits beside me. I know without looking, or even without hearing, that it is Puck. There couldn't have been anyone else, and there is also the small thug of familiarity and contentment.

The slow breeze brings a few of her hair strands the color of cliff grass to fall on my face, and the hollowness is gone. I close my eyes.

"Hey," she said. "I missed you the other day."

I turn my head to her finally and she is studying me. In the space between us she is holding out a November cake, which was probably kept and made warm from the weeks of the races. I don't doubt that it's as sticky and delicious as it ever was. "You looked for me?"

Puck nods. "I went to the yard early in the morning, asking for you. They said you already left. I remembered when you said you'd live in your father's house if you won the races and so I tried to go west, where you said your father's house was. I sort of got lost."

I am still looking at her. Her hair is dancing freely in the wind, without any lumpy hat to hold it down. Her cheeks are pink from the cold, and her face, ferocious and beautiful, is less than a foot away from mine. "I looked for you as well that day. And the next. I was waiting for you just now."

Puck turns her attention to the graying sea, and I watch her hand play restlessly with the cliff grass. "That's a strange thing to hear."

"I was getting worried. I thought you might have fallen in love with Malvern."

Puck laughs, a real laugh, full of life, and which makes me smile. "It's a possibility, with all that manly charm. And that tea of his! What a ladies' man." She pauses and her tone changes, but she's still smiling when she looks at me. "I'm quite happy here right now, though."

I duck and fit my head against her neck, my nose to where her pulse beats, and my arms follow to wrap around her small frame. It's a compulsion to be near her like this, solemn and delicate. It's as compelling as the magic of the capaill uisce. The wind is cold around us, and when I take a breath, she shudders.

With a whisper against her skin, I said, "I was afraid you wouldn't bother with me, now that the races are done. You can't keep happiness in this island, remember?"

Puck pulls away just enough to level her gaze with mine. She grips my thin jacket to lean into me, and we kiss. The moment was slow and quick at the same time. "Yes, but the island favors the brave."