A/N: I couldn't resist a quick and dirty glimpse into Mike and Liz's weekend away...well, that and because Dora87 has been clamoring for it!

As for the other requests concerning the ending of Out of the Ashes, I'll be writing a sequel at some point, and most of them will be addressed - be patient with me!

Liz POV

"What are you doing?"

"Sshh. Come here," he whispered in response.

"You're shushing me?" I replied, but I said it quietly as I walked stealthily across the tiny room to where Mike was standing in front of the window.

It was dark outside, and all of the lights in the cabin were out, so I wasn't too concerned about anyone spotting us in our au natural state, although I did wonder why I had to whisper.

It's not like anyone could hear us, either.

Mike continued to stare through the glass as I slipped up behind him, wrapping my arms around him and propping my chin on his shoulder.

"What are we looking at?" I asked in a hushed tone.

"We have neighbors," he answered.

"Okay," I replied carefully. "Did you think no one would rent out the cabin next door?"

"No, I'm just…look at the guy."

I visually tracked the man in question as he made trips from his car to the cabin and back again, lugging various loose items that had been stowed in the trunk.

"He looks…unorganized," I posed. "He should invest in a suitcase."

"And?"

"And a duffle bag?"

He chuckled and finally glanced back at me.

"Every time he comes out to get another load, he keeps looking all around, like he's expecting to see someone. And don't you think it's strange that he didn't pack?"

"You mean, do I think he's on the run from the police?"

"Well, it sounds silly when you say it," he admitted. I let go of him and moved beside him, and then he pulled me into his arms.

"Not silly," I countered, resting my cheek against his chest. "You just sound like a detective."

"Yeah, but here I am in a remote cabin…with you…naked…and I'm watching the yo-yo next door."

"I didn't expect that you'd make love to me the entire weekend," I said, unable to keep from smiling.

"That wasn't your plan?" he asked in amusement. "Because it was sure as hell mine."

"No, my plan was to get rich from the reward money I'll earn when I drop a dime on the fugitive moving in next door," I teased.

"Keep it up, Rodgers," he warned playfully as he backed me up against the window. Once he had me plastered against the glass, he reached past my head and rested his hand against the light switch on the wall. "I'll give our neighbors a good show."

"You wouldn't dare."

He flashed me a grin, and I knew he was going to do it, but honestly…I just couldn't care less.

So what if some guy from BFE sees my bare ass?

"Nah," he said, moving his hand from the switch to my cheek. "I wouldn't want to ruin him for other women. Because one look at your ass and he'd never be the same again."

"You're so full of shit," I said, laughing as he brought his mouth to mine.

I never realized before Mike how much fun it can be to make love.

I mean, of course it feels good.

And I'm not going to say that I never had any good experiences prior to him, because there've been a handful.

None like him, but satisfying.

But with Mike, we actually have fun. He has such a great sense of humor, and he doesn't mind when I make a joke in bed. In fact, he's usually making them, too.

And of course, there are times when we're serious.

Very serious, like we were last night.

He stood there in my foyer with his hand outstretched, holding out a present as he wished me happy birthday in the very first minute of the day…I almost cried on the spot.

And I don't cry.

Or at least, not very often.

I'm quite sure Danny Ross never once saw me cry, and yet in the slightly more than a month I've been with Mike, he's seen it.

More than once.

And last night as I stood there, my eyes filled with tears, and even though none actually fell, he still knew they were there.

"Don't tell me it's not today. I might have to argue with you," he said, smiling hesitantly as though he wasn't sure of the cause of my emotion.

"You know it is," I answered quietly.

"Then don't you want to open your present? Or are you the type who likes to savor the moment, and analyze it from all angles before carefully slicing open the paper that you end up saving away in a box even though you know you'll never use it?"

I knew he was trying to make me smile, but for some reason, I couldn't.

I just felt so overwhelmed by how perfect he is for me.

But I was also aware of the fact that I was making him a little nervous, so I stepped closer to him and took the box from his hand.

"You are just…the…sweetest man," I told him.

"Sshh," he whispered as he wrapped his arms around me. "Don't let the word get out. You'll ruin my reputation."

"You think anything I might say could make your reputation worse?"

He laughed and squeezed me tightly to him before letting me go.

"That's my girl. Now open it. It's making me crazy."

"You're anxious for me to open my present? That's a little backwards, don't you think?"

"Uh uh," he argued lightly. "I want to make sure you like it."

"I'll love it."

"But you don't…"

"Whatever it is. I'll love it."

"Okay, so…"

"So let's go sit down."

He groaned and then smiled as he took my hand and led me into the living room.

"You are one of those types," he said. "Please tell me you're not going to use a scalpel on that thing."

"Oh, no. I'm going to tear into it."

And I did.

We sat down on the couch together and then I ripped into it with the gusto of a five-year old on Christmas morning.

"Wait," he said once the paper was gone and I was ready to open the box.

"Now you want me to wait?"

"It's not a ring."

"Okay."

"Did you want it to be?"

"Mike…"

"I just…I know we talked a little bit about this earlier, but…I just don't want you to be disappointed, or to settle, or…"

"Mike," I said again. "We're going to live together. And after we do that for a while, then we'll talk about something more."

"Maybe next year for your birthday," he said with a smile.

"Maybe so," I agreed as I leaned over to kiss him. I took my time with it and then I shifted my focus back to the box.

And honestly, by this point, just about anything in the box was going to make me cry because he'd obviously put so much thought into it.

I grabbed onto the lid and opened it up.

"I know you usually wear the diamond studs, but…" he said, trailing off as I fingered the earrings in the box.

Amethyst studs, marquis cut, making them elegant and practical at the same time.

"I wasn't sure if you'd like the purple, but since it's your birthstone…"

"They're beautiful," I interrupted.

"I saw them and I could just picture you wearing them," he said, seemingly still wanting to explain why he was trying to replace a staple in my limited supply of accessories.

"Elegant and practical," he continued, echoing my sentiment. "And beautiful. Just like you."

And that's when a tear finally escaped.

I ignored it while I took out my old earrings and replaced them with the new ones.

And then I tossed the box onto the coffee table and threw myself at Mike, pushing him back onto the couch.

We spent quite a bit of time out there in the living room, just enjoying each other.

And then we moved into the bedroom.

And like I said, it was serious and moving and emotional and I felt such a connection with him, like nothing I've ever felt before.

Then this morning, he brought me breakfast in bed.

Nothing elaborate.

Fruit, toast, coffee…

But it was the thought, and that he took the time to fix it and put it on a tray, and then he brought it to me, waking me up with a kiss on the cheek.

"Happy birthday," he said.

"I think you covered that already."

"Yeah, but it's not over yet."

"It could be. It's already been better than any I've ever had."

He shook his head and smiled and said, "You know, I can't decide if I want to kick Chuck's ass for being such a dick, or thank him for setting the bar so low…you know I'm not as great as you think, right?"

"I'm naked, except for my new earrings, I'm lying in bed, and you're feeding me cantaloupe…yeah, you're right. You're awful."

"I am," he agreed after checking the clock. "Because I need to go. I'll text you when it's over, okay? Maybe we can get on the road by noon."

But we did better than that.

We were on the interstate by ten, since Alex sprung him directly after the triumphant meeting.

The drive up was more than pleasant.

It was…relaxing and normal and…a little eye-opening.

I learned that Mike can name every song played on the 80's station within the first ten seconds.

"I like music, too, but that's almost freakish," I teased after he identified Winger from the opening riff.

"Music has always been my escape," he admitted.

I started to make a joke, referring to how he'd worn out his IPod while Bobby and Alex were at his place, but I realized that it went a lot deeper than that.

And it definitely did.

Music was his escape from reality, when he was a kid.

He talked for a little while about his childhood, and his mother. We'd touched on some things before, but this time he went a little deeper. And not in a way that said poor me, but just factually, almost as though he was reciting from something he'd read.

"What about you?" he asked as though he hadn't just conveyed some of the saddest stories ever.

"You mean aside from being subjected to therapy for my abnormal obsession with dead animals?" I asked on a laugh.

"Yeah. Aside from that. What's the one thing you wish you'd done as a child that you didn't do."

"Um…I wished I'd made more friends," I answered after a moment. "I was pretty much a loner. Even as an adult, actually. It never occurred to me until recently that I needed anyone at all. But I do."

I watched his profile as he smiled at my statement, and I was glad that he saw himself in my words.

"And you?" I asked when he stayed quiet.

"Nothing," he said at last. "My childhood wasn't about choices. It was about survival. But you know what? It makes every choice I make now that much more meaningful."

"And yet you still chose me," I said with a smile, sensing that he was ready to move on to lighter topics.

He picked up my hand and kissed the back of it, glancing sideways at me as he said, "Sweetheart, I'd choose you every single time."

We arrived at the cabin in Prospect Point around three o'clock.

Mike unloaded our bags while I snooped around, checking out the place.

"What do you think?" he asked me as he stepped out onto the deck with me.

It was cold outside. In fact, there was snow covering the wooden planks, but it was just so beautiful and peaceful.

"Absolutely gorgeous."

And it really was, inside and out.

Hardwood floors, a huge fireplace, a breathtaking view of the lake…

"Can I give you your other present now?"

"Another present?"

"Well…this one's kind of for me, too," he said with a mischievous grin.

"Oh, one of those kinds of presents."

"Interested? Or no?"

"Oh, I'm interested."

"It's in the bedroom," he said.

"Give me five minutes."

So I left him on the deck while I went into the bedroom to find the garment that he'd bought for me.

It was laying on the bed.

Black leather.

It wasn't like anything I've ever worn in my life, and yet it looked exactly like something I would've picked for myself.

And here I thought I had strange taste in lingerie, but apparently so does Mike.

I quickly changed into the outfit and then I had a last second thought that sent me searching through his duffle bag.

Once I found what I was looking for, I went to stand in the doorway.

And I have no idea why I wasn't self-conscious.

I mean, I was more out than in of this creation surely designed for a woman half my age.

But the look on Mike's face when he turned around to look at me made me feel like a covergirl.

"Oh. My. God."

His words were spoken in a low, husky tone that I've come to know well.

It's usually followed by his complete and utter loss of control.

"I thought maybe we could do that cop fantasy," I said as I held up his hand cuffs.

Then I clicked one end around my wrist before holding up the other end and asking, "Where do you want me?"

I could barely get the words out before he was on me, and I wasn't wrong about his tone of voice.

His control was hanging by a very thin thread.

But I love him like that.

And apparently I also enjoy a little bit of light bondage.

It was a new experience for me, and I found it to be extremely intense and passionate and it was a physical example of our complete trust in one another.

It was dark by the time we finished.

"Let's get some groceries," Mike suggested once we'd recovered, and showered and dressed.

"We probably should've done that first," I remarked with a smirk.

"Uh uh," he argued. "I can live without food, but you…I've got to have you."

"I'd say you just did," I answered wryly.

"We're just getting started, sweetheart. All I need is a little sustenance and then I'll be as good as new."

"So…oysters?" I asked. "And chocolate?"

We ended up with a lot more than that, and then we went back to the cabin and cooked together in the tiny kitchen.

When it was nearly ready, Mike went in to light a fire while I put our dinner on plates and opened a bottle of wine.

"I don't think I ever want to go home," I commented as I put the plates down on the coffee table and then sat down next to him on the couch.

"Sure you do. You said nowhere podunk, right? This is about as podunk as it gets."

"Maybe I was wrong. It's been known to happen once or twice."

"Is that all?" he joked. "Because I can think of two right off the top of my head."

"Two? Are you sure?"

"Danny. Chuck," he stated, ticking the names off on his fingers.

"Oh, ha ha," I laughed. "Yeah, okay. Should we start counting off yours?"

"Let's not," he said, grabbing on to my hand where I'd been silently dropping fingers, pretending to count. "Although it's probably not nearly as many as you think."

"Have you kept count?"

"Well, no."

"Then it's a lot," I said, laughing at the look on his face. "If you can't associate a number with it…"

"That doesn't bother you?" he asked, suddenly serious again.

"That you were with a lot of women before me?"

"Yeah," he answered with a nod.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't live in the past," I said simply. "And as long as you're not with anyone else now…"

"Never again," he promised.

"You don't know that," I deflected, although I felt a rush of warmth over his declaration.

And yeah, I knew we were at that point where commitments were being made, but still…never is a strong word.

"I do know that. And I mean it. You're it."

That was a few hours ago.

He'd kissed me after his unequivocal words, and then we ate our dinner and finished off two bottles of wine.

There was no TV in the cabin, and no cell reception, and it was a strange and surreal feeling to know that we absolutely were not going to be interrupted.

Not by his work…not by mine…nothing.

It was wonderful.

After dinner, we bundled up and went for a walk along the lake, and then when we got back, we warmed up in the hot tub and then dried off in front of the fire.

I fell asleep like that, on the rug in front of the fire, with Mike's arms around me.

I almost felt like we were caught up in the middle of a Lifetime movie.

But then I woke up at nearly midnight and I was alone.

Which is when I got up and found him staring at the neighbor.

After teasing him about his curiosity, and risking being seen in the buff by anyone walking past, I was now plastered with my backside against the window while Mike kissed me thoroughly.

"I'm full of shit, huh?" he questioned after he pulled back. I quirked an eyebrow at him and he added, "Okay, sometimes, maybe, but not about this. Your ass is perfect."

"We're really going to talk about my ass?" I asked, tilting my head back against the glass as he started kissing my neck.

He ran his hands lightly over my skin, sparking off a rush of arousal that caught me by surprise with its intensity.

"It's a fascinating topic," he replied, sliding his tongue down my throat, continuing lower and lower until he was kneeling in front of me. "I could talk about it all night."

"Uh huh," I agreed skeptically, and then I sucked in a ragged breath as I began to get overwhelmed with sensations.

"Or I can…not talk at all," he murmured as he continued his assault on me.

"That second thing," I managed to say.

"Don't talk?" he clarified teasingly, pausing for just a moment.

"Mike…" I said, practically begging.

But I didn't have to say anything more.

And he didn't say anything more, either.

Not until a short time later when he pulled me down onto the floor with him.

He was on his back beneath me and he closed his eyes as I took him in slowly, fully, and then he let out a contented breath, and looked up at me.

He reached up and settled one hand against my cheek, and then he put the other on my hip, encouraging me to start up a leisurely, easy rhythm.

"I'm sorry I left you alone so that I could spy on the guy next door," he said quietly, a small smile playing on his lips.

"You didn't go far. I knew where to find you. And I'm not going to stifle your investigative instincts."

"No?"

"No. I love you the way you are. Why would I want to make you into someone else?"

"To make your life easier?" he posed teasingly.

"My life is pretty good just like it is."

"You really think so, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

He smiled fully and moved his hand from my cheek to my hip, urging me to increase the pace.

"Let's come back here next year," he said in a raspy tone. "For your birthday again."

"That's a really good idea," I agreed as I let my eyes fall closed.

"And I'll ask you to marry me."

I opened my eyes again, looking down at him as he watched me carefully, gauging my response.

"So we're setting a date," I clarified. "For when you're going to propose."

"Uh huh. A year from today. If you haven't killed me by then. What do you think?"

I leaned over and kissed him hard, and then he surprised me by wrapping his arms around me and turning us over.

"If you say no," he continued. "I just might have to hand cuff you to the bed and leave you here all year."

"All year?"

"I'll come in and feed you once in a while. And keep you sexually…satisfied."

"I'm tempted."

"To stay here and be my love slave?"

"Well, what's not to like?"

He laughed and then picked up the pace, pushing into me with renewed purpose.

"So…" he said, his voice nearly a growl.

But I couldn't answer, and he couldn't question me again because by this point it was all about feeling and need and desperation to get to that point together.

And we did.

And why we were laying on the hardwood floor next to the drafty window instead of over on the soft rug in front of the dying fire, I have no idea, but it doesn't matter.

I was with him.

"So…yes," I said as he lifted his head to look at me.

He propped his forearms on either side of my head, his eyes so close to mine that I could see the unique pattern of browns and blues and greens.

"Yes?"

"Yes, we'll come back here next year so that you can ask me to marry you. And yes, I'll say yes."

The End.