You are now Detective Mal Fallon.

A ray of brilliant sunlight falls on your face and you wake up, feeling a little jet-lagged and disoriented. Looking around, you see two unopened suitcases sitting in the middle of the room, along with clothing littered haphazardly at the foot of your bed. Then you remember, you are in your small hotel room in Cancun, Mexico. Somehow, Natara convinced you to take the week off with her in Cancun for Christmas vacation. You'd much rather be vegetating in your apartment in San Francisco with beer and baseball on the TV (with Natara reading next to you of course), but you've agreed to worse things than going to Cancun to unwind.

A body lies curled up next to you, breathing methodically. You slowly reach to brush a stray lock of hair from her face, but her sudden words stop you.

"Mal, how long have you been watching me?" Her eyes are still closed.

"Damn," you respond. "Foiled again."

"There are a million things I could say right now about you watching a woman sleep." She sounds exhausted, but you can still hear the unfaltering strength in her voice. It brings you strength as well.

You laugh. "But you look beautiful today."

She sits up and stretches, joints softly complaining. "And you look like you've wrestled a tiger." She gestures to your wild bed tousled hair.

"Ah, that's because I did wrestle a tiger last night." You smugly grin at her as she turns a slight shade redder. "Even when you were exhausted. It's because I'm irresistable, right?"

"You keep that up, see where it gets you. A broken arm or two."

"Keep what up?" you innocently ask.

Natara shoots you a withering glare.

"Okay, okay."

Natara stands up. "Well, I'm going to go take a shower."

"Can I come with?"

"No," she firmly says.

"Why not?"

"Because it's almost 8:30 and we have a long, fun day ahead of us! Save your energy."

You try to think of something to say that would change her mind, but she disappears into the bathroom. You shrug and start unpacking your suitcase, then hers. You pull a blue polo over your head and wear some palm tree print swim trunks. Natara appears, fifteen minutes later, smartly dressed in a black skirt and white blouse.

"It's our vacation and you're wearing that?"

She shoots you another withering glare. Then she smiles and pecks you on the cheek. "Ready for breakfast?"

"Yeah," you say as you comb your wild hair. "I'm a growing boy and I need my sustenance."

Natara rolls her eyes but a ghost of a smile escapes anyway. Seeing her smile makes you realize there's nowhere else you'd rather be right now.

Fallon, you're one lucky bastard, you think.

You are now Special Agent Natara Williams.

You sit at a table in a cozy restaurant near your hotel with Mal Fallon. The restaurant is quiet and mostly empty save for a few patrons and the salty scent of the ocean. You watch Mal happily dig into his scrambled eggs and salsa. He's like a child sometimes. He notices your gaze and looks up.

"So aren't you gonna eat that?" he pointedly stares at your breakfast burrito.

"Yep." You finally take a large bite. Some chopped potatoes and ham spill out onto your plate. You dab the corner of your mouth with a napkin.

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

"Damn."

Scratch that. He's like a child all the time.

You share a laugh with him, then fall silent. You look out the window and try to capture the view of the ocean in your mind forever. The waves gently crash against the sand as seagulls march across, searching for scraps of food. A few children and their parents are building a sandcastle. Right now, there is no danger. A rare moment. You feel a slight tinge of sadness because you know it is fleeting. Nonetheless, you are content.

"Natara?"

You turn your head back. Mal's eyes are earnest, as blue as the ocean. "Yeah?"

"What are you thinking?"

You hesitate a moment before answering. "I'm just thinking about us. Right now. How… quiet everything is. No killer to catch, no worrying about our jobs. It feels so strange."

Mal places a hand over yours. It is warm and comforting. "We deserve this. As much as I love saving San Francisco from psychopaths, we need a break every so often. You've said it yourself."

You smile. "I know. It's just… different."

"So let's enjoy it while it lasts! How about after breakfast we hit the beach, go for a swim?" Mal suggests. "I'm still aching from that plane ride."

"Since when do you like swimming? You just want to see me in a bikini," you laugh.

"Yet another nefarious plot uncovered by Special Agent Williams."

"I could use a swim though. It'd be nice."

"And they even have a bar. On the beach."

"Okay, I'm sold. It can't be worse than the Drunk Tank, right?"

"Alcohol is alcohol to me," Mal says. "What should we do after?"

"Well, there is the Underwater Museum..." you suggest, sipping your coffee. It is a rich, dark blend with mild hints of hazelnut. The restaurant is moderately busy by now; people chatting quietly amongst themselves.

"Museum? Ah hell. What is this, a sixth grade field trip?" Mal protests.

You playfully kick him from under the table. He recoils. "It'll be great, Mal."

Smiling, you lean across the table and press your lips against his. Rough stubble lightly brush your face and you feel his hand entwined in your hair. The kiss becomes more desperate, as with every kiss you share with the man you love. You know that any kiss could be your last so you savor each and every one. The moment lingers... and you break apart.