Alright boys and girls. Here we go. This is the sequel to The Days of Summer . . . and just to throw this out here the majoirty takes place after the movie! Because seriously it can't be a GISS story without Memphis right? Now I'm going to warn everyone, this will be the same rating as Summer. There will be limes and lemons, there will be romance and there will be boosting. But now onto the prologue . . . and please nobody plot my death until they've read the first chapter. I swear everything has a reason. Enjoy!

Heartbreak

Ripley sighed, leaning into the counter as she waited for everything to finish cooking. Tonight was her and Sphinx's anniversary and everything needed to be perfect. She couldn't believe how long they'd been together-because honestly there were days she'd thought they would last until the next second, let alone another day, week, month or year- but she was thankful for it. She loved him more than anything else in the world . . . And she hoped that tonight would help with some of the tension she'd been seeing in him the past few months.

He'd been pulling away a little more each day, putting up walls between them and she was hard pressed to find out why. He seemed to be okay . . . just stressed. And she knew-between work, boosting and the second degree he was contemplating-he needed tonight to unwind.

She looked over, checking the timer before going to get dressed. She'd bought a simple black jersey dress that flared ever so slightly right above her knee especially for tonight. And that-coupled with her hair, makeup and the earrings she'd bought earlier to go with the ring he'd given her on their first Christmas together- would make her look a bit better than she felt. She'd been weak and sick the past few weeks . . . but with everything going on she knew it was normal.

Memphis had been gone almost two years now, leaving them to try to cope with his abscence and the ever changing world. Atley had all but been forced to retire from running, delving deeper and deeper into the harsher criminal bracket to make up for his losses. Which would've usually been fine. He would've run for Cacuzza and just gone deeper into the mob . . . but the new up-and-coming crime boss- who had taken the most ridiculous monkier of the Carpenter- was steadily gaining territory in Long Beach. Forcing their former benefactor out a bit more with every gain. Even she worried what was going to happen when this new boss wasn't satisified with taking smaller sections at a time. And where it was going to put Atley when all of the tenson finaly came to a head.

Frankie and San had stayed on with Otto, working for her godfather legally while they ran as any sheets as they could; ever watchful for the Govenor's Division and other boosts. With the way that GRAB had cracked down, boosting wasn't the same as it used to be. More and more runners were either ending up in shallow graves or behind bars. And even their elite little pack had to be on their toes, a lesson Donnie had learned after a tight brush with Castlebeck the year before.

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. The only thing that had saved Don from doing hardtime-veruses the two months he spent in County while they tried to build a case against him-was Nikole's unwavering alibi for the man. She'd claimed that he was with her when the car- a mint 87 Testarossa that Donnie was helping Sway snatch up in a pinch- was rolled from it's parking complex.

And Sway, God she was finally dating again. Ripley rolled her eyes, stepping out of her slacks before pulling her tee shirt over her head. Sway was screwing someone new . . . but they were trying to form a casual relationship together. And as much as she hoped it would, she knew it wouldn't last. Raines had left too big a hole for anyone but him to fill . . . and seeing as how he was content to hold up in the northern part of the state until Mommy Dearest called him home it was unlikely that he would ever try to fix what he'd broken.

She shook her head, going to put her earrings in as she looked herself over in her lingerie; trying to spot anything that might hint to anything unattractive about herself. But she didn't see anything. Just the same tone and tanned muscle that her time at the gym and in the surf with Paul kept in order . . . and the same tattoos that Sphinx loved to trace when he touched her. She glanced down to left wrist, smiling as she saw her latest one. Even he hadn't seen it yet . . . but the simple looping word inked into her skin was his anniversary present.

He'd asked her months ago why she'd never put his name on herself . . . or anything that tied them together. And though she'd thought it was an odd question she'd thought about it. Before deciding to do just that . . . So now she had 'Sphinx' along the underside of her wrist in an ink that was just barely darker than her tan. If he liked it, Charm could darken it but if he didn't they could cover it easily with the lighter ink . . .

She shook herself, going into her closet and pulling the new dress from its hanger before tugging it over her head. She smoothed the soft cloth over her hips before going to touch up her makeup . . . and nearly jumped out of her skin when the buzzer went off. Their food was done and the table she'd put on her balcony was already set and waiting. All the evening needed was them . . . and the bottle of wine she had chilling in the fridge.

Which meant she actually had time to work on Nikole and Donnie's wedding plans for a bit before he got in. He was supposed to stop by and see Atley for a while-to give her time to get ready- but she'd overestimated how long she'd need. Which was really a good thing seeing how Don and Nikole were her and Paul's biggest customers right now-because they refused to just let her do it for free, the goobers- and she wanted their wedding to be special. They both deserved it after all they'd gone through . . . But first she needed to get the food out before it burned.

She moved, liberating their pork before checking on the vegetables and pasta. And was pleased to see that everything was perfect . . .

She just hoped he liked it . . .

Sphinx growled to himself, shaking his head as he stepped in the lift at Ripley's apartment complex. Atley had pissed him off. Again . . . He'd made the mistake of telling the man that he felt boxed in-caged-in his relationship with Ripley since she'd graduated. And that even though they spent less time together with her and Paul trying to set up their damned business he felt like he was being suffocated every time he turned around. Like with the message she'd left him at work about having a good day since she'd called before he'd gotten in.

Atley had told him he was being a jackass, that he had someone who loved-no adored-him and he didn't need to fuck it up. But the problem was that even with as much as he cared about her he didn't want to be shackled down. Everything about their relationship just kept pushing more and more towards a life he never wanted . . . and now that it was looming in the distance-taunting him- he knew he couldn't have it. Despite what Atley swore to him . . .

He'd been waiting for the bottom to drop out of their romance since the second it had begun . . . and the fact it was taking so long to do it just meant that it was going to be epic when it finally happened. Besides, he didn't want to get married. Ever . . . and he'd seen Ripley getting the idea in her head for months now. She kept looking to him like she was expecting something and he couldn't place it . . . until Frankie of all people had asked when he was going to marry her in front of the others.

He'd seen her face flash before she'd laughed and waved it off . . . but he knew that she was just covering. Even when they'd gone home he'd been able to see it playing through her head. And Frank was still as insistent when he saw him that he needed to at least ask her before she wanted to get away. Because women like that-smart, beautiful, talented and kind- weren't going to stick with him for nothing in return. Especially not with her starting her own business and a legal life that was pulling her further and further from theirs . . . He sighed, shaking his head as he stepped off onto her floor.

He was probably just being paranoid . . .

He moved down the hall, pulling his key out of his pocket when another wave of anger hit him. But this time it was with himself. He'd taken the keys from her before they were even together. Now he was here just as much as he was his own home. And the fact that he had been for years didn't even matter as he realized it meant he was just a little bit deeper into her than he wanted to be. He pushed inside, shaking his head before the most mouthwatering aroma hit him . . . only to stop dead in his tracks as he saw the magazines on the coffee table. Stack after stack of wedding books and bridal catalogs were spread out with pages of notes and sketches . . . and he saw red.

He turned, seeing her stepping back into the room from the balcony . . . which had the small dinette set she'd found and put out there months ago filled to the brim with food and candles and what looked like a bottle of very good wine. He raised a brow, his anger momentarily forgotten as he looked her over.

She was barefoot and her platinum blonde hair was down and curling wildly to her hips, the lavender tint almost completely faded from the time she'd spent in the water over the past few weeks. It was how she decompressed . . . and with the houses and events she and Paul were doing it was a necessary evil. But the dress was sinful, cupping her chest and clinging to her waist and hips before flaring out into the flowing skirt at her thighs; falling to her knees and swaying lazily as she walked.

She looked up to him, grinning as she pushed her hair back and out of her face as she crossed to him. She stopped in front of him, almost beaming as she stretched up to wrap her arms around his shoulders before pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. But her words brought his anger swelling back . . . and he had no idea why.

"Hey honey . . . I'm glad you're home. I made dinner . . ."

He glared down to her, pushing back the little part of him that recoiled and clenched at the way she flinched at his look. But he pulled her arms away; shaking his head . . . He wasn't doing this. Not anymore. He couldn't . . .

"This isn't home, Ripley. I have my own if you've forgotten . . ."

She blinked before nodding at him, wrapping her arms around herself uncertainly as she shifted from foot to foot. And she suddenly looked so small that he almost felt bad for snapping at her. But when she spoke again he felt himself getting even angrier.

"I-I know that, baby. I just . . . I was-I'm just happy to see you. That's all . . . I didn't mean anything by it other than . . . It's just an expression, baby."

He snorted, shaking his head as he crossed back over towards the kitchen. And he felt his blood boil at the papers everywhere. He picked up a cluster of plans, holding them to her as she stilled; looking like a deer caught in the headlights. But he wasn't doing this . . . they weren't doing this. If she was going to stay it would be as they were . . . and she needed to get used to it or leave.

"Stop all of this nonsense. The plans, the dinners, the little notes and messages at work. Just stop it. We aren't this, Ripley. We never have been . . . You're not my wife and you're never going to be. So stop bloody acting like it . . . I'll not be caged. Not now, not ever . . ."

She looked down at the papers and opened her mouth to speak but stopped, closing it as she reached out and gently pulled them from his hands. She nodded, smoothing them out before turning to set them with the others. And she looked so small and tiny in that black dress with that flowing bird on her back that he felt his heart clench. He hadn't meant to snap at her-on her- but he couldn't be what she wanted him to be. They couldn't keep pretending that this was going to last forever anymore . . .

She moved, looking back up to him with a tight, forced smile before going back to the balcony. She brought the plates back inside-both already made up and looking damn near restaurant quality- before going into the kitchen. A few moments later she was back, tuber ware in hand as she slid it into a cloth grocery tote. She held it out to him with the same smile and her head held high . . . but he could see her hand was trembling as she waited for him to take it.

Finally he took the bag, looking down at it puzzled as she nodded to him before turning to look back at the windows. And he suddenly felt like an ass. She'd made him dinner, set this up for them to eat and look over the city skyline and the beach that they both loved and he'd just wrecked it. He went to speak but she stopped him, smiling as waved him off. And he had no idea why but looking at her made his heart break.

"You're right . . . I just. Just never mind. I got carried away . . . like I always do. I just . . . wanted tonight to be special. But you're right. We don't do this. And I'm sorry . . . I made the pork you like, but if you don't want it then take it to Atley . . . or to work. Or throw it away . . ."

He stopped, listening to her intently. She hadn't told him to throw anything away since he'd been shot three years before . . . and he suddenly felt like that number was significant. But why? He shook himself as she spoke again, wrapping her arms back around herself.

"Just . . . go ahead and go on home, okay? I'm sorry I messed this up . . . I won't again baby. I swear."

He watched her cross to him and he couldn't seem to make his lips move to return the soft kiss she pressed against them. She tasted too sad . . . like she was drowning in tears . . . She pulled away, nodding before she shook her head slightly. And he almost didn't catch what she told him.

"I love you Sphinx . . . Have a good night."

She turned, going to her bedroom and shutting the door. And he heard the lock catch like it was a clap of thunder. He growled, going to leave when he noticed the candles were still burning on the balcony. God she was going to burn herself alive . . . He stepped out, looking over the spread after he blew them out. This was familiar . . . she'd done this before for him. When Johansen had been put away for good, when Junie's mammogram had come back clear after her cancer scare a few months after Raines left . . . but mainly on his birthday or their anniversary . . . He stopped, feeling his heart freeze in his chest.

Their anniversary . . .

She'd been with him three years tonight . . . and done all of this for him. For him to act like this. He needed to go, to talk with Atley and see what to do. Because even though he wasn't sure about where they were heading, he knew he wanted to at least keep her from being hurt . . . . He cared for her enough to want to spare her that . . . And he'd just royally fucked that up.

Sphinx sighed, running a hand over his face as he and Atley waited on the lift to Ripley's to hit the bottom floor. He'd been calling her all morning and gotten no answer . . . but with the way he'd acted he figured she was just mad-and using the caller ID Junie had gotten her on a whim to ignore him. But when he'd called Atley to get him to at least check on her he hadn't liked what he'd been told. He'd already called and checked and she wasn't answering for him either . . . She never ignored Atley, not even when she was mad at him. They're friendship was too precious for her to do that.

Meaning something was wrong.

The doors opened and both were through them, Atley hitting the button before punching him in the side. Again. He'd been doing that most of the time they'd been waiting . . . and as soon as he made sure Ripley was okay he was going to pay him back for it. He knew the semi-retired boost thought of Ripley like she was family but honestly he'd hit him enough.

He sighed, watching the numbers tick by as they waited for her floor . . . and Atley was off as soon as the doors opened. He sighed, following him down the hall to her door and watched as Atley pulled out his own keys. But neither of them was prepared for what was waiting on them as soon as they pushed the door opened.

The entire front of the apartment was bare . . . no furniture, no boxes or trash. Nothing. He stepped in, looking around before spotting a stack of things on the bar that led into the kitchen. And he felt his blood run cold. He turned, going into her bedroom and bathroom, finding nothing but the same emptiness from the living area to meet him. With the exception of the paint and wallpaper colors, no one would've ever known Ripley lived there . . .

He came back into the living room slowly as Atley looked over everything with cold hard eyes . . . and thrust a small piece of paper into his hands. He stopped, feeling it was glossy on the other side and turned it; seeing it was a picture of the two of them together at their first Christmas with Junie. Her in his lap and looking down at him so warmly he could feel how she felt about him even through the paper. And him looking up to her like she was his everything. Because she was . . .

Atley glared at him, nodding to the paper before he ground out through clenched teeth.

"Read it."

He turned it back over, noticing the writing for the first time. And he wanted it to be a joke. Some cruel prank Jackson had thought up to teach him a lesson . . . but he knew, as he traced the six words that it wasn't. It was real and he'd done it . . . he'd finally broken her the way he'd feared he would before he'd surrendered to her. And he had no idea where she was to even try to make it right. He looked up to Atley, noticing the box on top of the clothes. His clothes . . . including the maroon sweater she practically lived in when they were lounging together . . . his work clothes he left here so he could sleep later . . . enjoy her longer.

God what had he done?

He reached out, picking up the box with shaking hands and opening it. Only to close his eyes before shaking his head. She never took this off . . . she'd almost died when she'd lost a stone last year and had to send it off to be repaired. He could still see her pacing his apartment, wringing her hands and apologizing over and over as she looked to him with teary eyes; waiting while he pulled out the purchase agreement and the warranty to take it be fixed. She never took his ring off. She cherished it . . . she wouldn't leave it . . . but here it was. Glittering and shining on top of the seldom used keys to his apartment he'd broken down and given her to shut Atley up. Seldom used because she knew how uncomfortable it had made him for her to have them . . . just like the spare she kept for the Malibu.

He picked up the ring, looking at it before dropping it back in the box like it'd burnt him.

He looked back to the note on the back of the picture and knew she wasn't lying to him. She never had before . . . she was serious. She was gone . . . . Because she thought it was what he wanted . . . Hell, he'd thought it had been what he'd wanted.

But now he just wanted her back . . .

Atley shook his head, swiping at his eyes angrily as he turned to leave. And he knew he deserved the quip the man called out . . . and he couldn't even try to defend himself.

Because he was right . . .

"I hope you're happy . . . you got what you wanted. Congratulations Sphinx . . . she loved you enough to do it."

He sighed, sinking down onto the floor as soon as Atley slammed the door. And no matter how hard he looked, the words on the back of the picture-her favorite picture of them now that he thought about it- weren't changing. And he had no idea what to do about it . . .

You're free.

I love you.

Chaosia

Yep . . . all I can say is it serves a purpose it really does.