I was in the winter of my life, and the one man I met along the road was my only summer. At night I fell asleep with visions of myself dancing and laughing and crying with him. Three years down the road and my memories of him were the only thing that sustained me, and my only real happy times were when I thought back to our memories we made.

I was an artist, and not a very popular one. I once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet, but upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken. But I didn't really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted and then losing it to know what true freedom is.

When people I used to know found out what I was doing, how I was living, they asked me why, but there's no use in talking to others who have a home. They have no idea what it's like to seek safety in other people, for home to be wherever your head lays down. I was an unusual girl; my mother told me that I had a chameleon soul, no moral compass pointing due North, no fixed personality. Just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and wavering as the ocean.

It took me a while to realize this, but I was born the other woman, one who belonged to no one but rather everyone, who wanted nothing but wanted everything with a fire for experience and an obsession for freedom that turned me to the point that I couldn't talk about it. It pushed me to a point that dazzled, mystified and dizzied me.

I was eighteen or nineteen when I decided to leave home. I really didn't know why I wanted to leave, but it was probably due to me being sick and tired of living in a town where no one appreciated my artistic muse; or it could have been the fact that no one liked me and that my life at home was a living hell. There was one morning where I woke up and finally realized that if I didn't get out of there, my life wasn't going to mean a thing. I was tired of all of the drama and the fighting so leaving, in my opinion, was the easiest choice and so that's what I did, but not without a ton of backlash from my family.

"Gwen, you just can't leave the family," Mom told me. "Think of what you're doing."

My reply was simple. "Do I look like I care? I'm tired of living in this rat hole. If you knew how I felt, you'd probably understand, but you don't so there's no point in the argument."

"Don't get sassy with your mother, Gwen. Look, we love you very much and you should know that, but as long as you are still with us, you are not going anywhere." That was my father, giving his input that I didn't want to hear.

"I'm not listening to you, Dad. I'm old enough to leave, and if I want to, I can. Besides, you all have to realize that I have to leave the nest at some point. Which is great, because I want to get away from here! Don't you understand that?" I screamed, burying my face into my hands. I sobbed my heart out while I heard my mom and dad talking behind me, but I tuned them out, crying until I felt a hand touch my shoulder.

"Look, Gwen. We didn't mean to snap at you, but you're right. You are old enough to leave the nest and if you want to, you can. We won't stop you or anything. We just wanted what's best for you, but we do understand that you're a woman now so it's up to you on what you want to do," my dad commented while I moved my hands to uncover my face.

"You really think so?" I asked.

"We do," my mom added. "We're sorry that we made you upset. Although we love you very much and do want you to stay, we can't force you to do anything against your will." I smiled at their comments since they finally gave me their blessing to move away, something that I had craved my whole life. Although they invited me to come back at any point, I wasn't going to. I was going off to experience the world and to live my life as the "other" woman.

Leaving them was one of the greatest moments in my life. I drove out west, where the beauty of the canyons and mountains mystified me. I wanted to go out toward the desert, where I could start fresh, rising from the ashes of my former life. While most people headed toward the cities, I headed toward nowhere since I didn't want to be sucked into the world of high traffic and other issues. Nowhere was where my inner spirit was located and it was where I found my man and where it all started.

The day was still young when I drove to a canyon to take some photographs for a painting that I wanted to do. I got my camera out of the car and walked up the narrow path to the top of the canyon. From where I stood, no one had a better view for miles and miles around. I picked up my camera and was about to start shooting when I heard a whistle.

"Hello?" I asked, turning my head to look for the perpetrator. No one was in sight so I shrugged, ready to resume shooting when someone touched me. "Get your scummy hands off of me!" I yelled, swinging back to throw a punch at this guy who had placed his hand on me. He fell back onto the ground and sat there for a moment before he started laughing. "What can possibly be funny about this?"

"Nothing. I just can't believe that you're the first woman who's punched me, and boy, you sure know how to punch," the guy replied.

"Well, I don't fall for that 'sneak up on girls' trick easily. You better be lucky that I didn't have my pepper spray or a taser with me."

"Please, you don't have any of those things. You're just bragging."

"I am not bragging!" I shouted, but he visibly shrugged the assertion off.

"Sure, whatever you say, Pasty."

"Pasty? I have a real name, you know."

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, do you really? Well, excuse me, 'cause all I've got to go by is Pasty. Wanna give me your real name?" I shook my head and told him I'd only give him my name if he'd give me his first, and he looked offended. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. That's not the way it works, sweetheart. I asked you first, so you give me your name."

"No, I'm the woman here. If you don't give me your name, I won't give you mine, and when you leave here, you'll always have me on your mind and you'll wonder why you didn't accept me when you had the chance." I was mostly spouting words that I didn't mean, but the look of concern and consideration in his eyes made it worth it. "You will be filled with so much regret for not knowing me when you had the chance."

He looked away then and, without him even saying a word, I knew that I had backed him into a corner that he couldn't get out of without admitting defeat. For a few minutes, there was nothing but silence between us until finally, he sighed, "Fine, you win, Pasty. I'm Duncan, by the way."

"Ah, thank you Duncan. I'm Gwen."

"Gwen? The name suits you very well," he commented, causing me to smile a bit.

"Why thank you, Duncan," was my reply as I stepped a bit closer to him. "So, what brings you out here?"

"I'm just traveling the country, wanting to get away from my folks. They're so strict and my crime record was the last straw so they kicked me out without any warning." Without really thinking, I gave him an apology for that, but he didn't care for it, telling me he wasn't bothered by the fact. That was when I chose to take a closer look at him, noting that was unlike any guy I had met before. He had a huge green mohawk that could stand out even under the greenest of trees, standing straight up into the air and adding to the bad boy look that I'm sure he was going for. He had piercings and tattoos all over his body and wore biker clothes, an odd sight when compared to me in my casual clothes and long brown hair.

I pushed my hair back in embarrassment as he noticed my insecurity, as if he could read what exact thoughts were going on inside my head. "You know, Gwen. You don't need to care about the way you look." My mouth was agape, because how did he know I was thinking about that sort of thing? But then he motioned to a few of his piercings that my eyes had focused on, and that answered my question. "You'll find yourself when you're supposed to. Natural thing."

His comment made me smile, and I helped him to his feet so we could walk over to where I'd parked my car. I hopped on the hood and offered him a spot next to me. "Yeah, you're right. Just feeling kind of…awkward right now, next to someone like you."

"Not any guys like me back where you came from?" he asked, to which I shook my head, explaining that I came from what amounted to a hole in the ground with some houses and people but no life. "Can't have been that bad."

It was, but I didn't want to bore him with the story so I shook my head, causing him to ask me again, a bit more forcefully. Hearing him get that close to begging was enough to convince me to tell it; while I was speaking, Duncan paid close attention, even stopping to ask questions, shocking me since I had assumed most people would only pretend to be fascinated in my long story of needing to break free from where I'd come from. When I finally finished, Duncan seem to be mystified, stars in his eyes.

"Wow Gwen, I had no idea your life was that bad," he mumbled, his voice sounding mostly sincere, while turning to look up to the clouds. While I tried to find the words to respond to him, some flowery verse about birds and cages coming to me but not feeling like it fit, he spoke again. "Have you ever noticed that the sky looks like blue velvet?"

I was taken slightly by surprise. "Uh, why do you ask?"

"I don't know, I just remembered this song I heard in a bar once. Something about blue velvet and it being softer than satin and that it held a woman's tears. The sky seems to fit that bill."

"You seem to have a unique perspective on the world," I commented, nudging him with my elbow. He then told me about his life dreams, about how he had wanted to be a scientist before he got involved in the rough and tumble life, about how he possessed a softer side that no one believed. I felt a connection with him then, so while he got shirtless and laid down next to me, I just stared at him and found the words I felt I needed to say in response to him. "Looks like we're kind of the same. You with science, me with artistic endeavors."

We remained there, the near-silence of the dark canyon the only background noise, for some time, until he looked at me and posed a question I didn't expect to hear so soon after meeting him: "How would you like to go off with me?"

My only question was where. Where would we go? He had answer for that as well, one that came after a few moments of deep thought. "We'd be able to find something eventually, but don't you think that this was fated? We're both tired of singing the blues and we seem to both want to enjoy life. Don't you want that? So what do you say? Do you want to go with me to the ends of the Earth and end up wherever we're meant to?"

I looked back at him, with his piercing, tattoos, and air of mystery, and I knew my answer, hasty and without a moment's thought. "Of course I want to go with you, Duncan. We can try to make each other happy while living free, without issues or worries. We can travel, making memories and always on the go until we both finally want to settle down. We can't decide what the future will hold for us unless we try and find it." He smiled at me, saying I was the first woman he'd ever felt this comfortable around, and I told him that the same applied to him and men for me.

That was when my winter turned into a summer. Duncan had made me the happiest girl ever. Like, we both realized that neither one could live without the other so we left together in my car, talking and laughing the whole night away. I finally felt like I was living life to its fullest with my inner self slowly coming out around Duncan, and it was the start of the time of my life.

Of course, when one becomes so close to another, joint decisions must be made, and a big one came in the form of him asking if we could sell my car to get a motorcycle. I was incredulous, asking him why he'd want such a thing, and his response came as he placed a firm hand on my shoulder. "I want to be able to have freedom driving on a bike. To hear the motor running, smell the gas burning, and have you holding onto my back."

I wasn't down for the idea, but there was something about how he asked that made me feel fine with agreeing to it. However, I did have one question of my own that needed to be answered. "What will we do when it's raining? Can't ride a bike in the rain, can we?"

"We can just find some place to stay until the rain clears then. I really want to do this." He stretched his arm, moving his hand from one of my shoulders to the other. "I just want to ride to California while looking like the guardians of rock and roll or something like that." I commented that "guardians of rock and roll" sounded more like a band than anything I was interested in being, which he was quick to correct me on. "It's not, trust me, but that's not my point here. Don't you want to go to California, to feel the sun on your skin and to get a taste of the West Coast?"

"I do, but I'm just looking at the big picture. We can do that in the car." The look he gave me was one of pleading, one of wanting me to stop arguing against him and just go with his words, and despite my reluctance I gave in. "Alright, I'm sorry for doubting you, Duncan. This sort of trip sounds like fun on motorcycle, I guess. Have always kind of wanted to see the coast."

"That's my girl," he said, smiling at me. "It'll be worth it." Selling the car didn't feel worth it, but when I saw the motorcycle that Duncan had decided on, I felt that maybe it was after all. He told me to get on and I did, wrapping my arms around him. When he started the engine and began to drive, it honestly did feel great to have the wind blowing through my hair. This was what freedom felt like, I was sure, and now that I had it I wasn't keen on giving it up.

We must have been riding all night, as by the time we made it to California, the sun was starting to rise in the East. The golden rays touched my pale skin and warmed my soul, the colors of the sky painted on a canvas that I wished I could have documented. "Are you doing okay back there?" Duncan asked, not sure what I was doing.

"I'm doing fine. I'm taking everything in." I shouted back, eyes focused on the ever-changing colors above our heads.

"Good to hear. We should be getting to a stopping point soon." He was right, and after what seemed like hours on end of riding, we finally stopped in this tiny town to rest the bike for a while. While Duncan went to buy some food, I walked around and noticed a hair salon nearby. I looked inside and saw a punk and goth style wall, with different variations of hairstyles and suddenly, my body craved to be like those women, with the short hair and different colors. I looked at my long, mussed hair and realized that it wasn't going to fit my freedom since it was still a visual reminder of my past life, and after the escape on motorcycle-back I needed to remove what was left of the old me. I gazed deep into the window and decided that this was the perfect place for me to make that last change to become the new, reborn person I desired to be.

"What'cha doing over here?" Duncan asked, coming up behind me with a bag of groceries on his arm. "You look like you're deep in thought about something."

"I'm thinking of going drastic with a haircut. After all, I want my past to be gone and this is most of what I have left of it." I pointed out while pulling at my knotted hair.

"Have you thought of just dyeing it? I do like the long hair on you, Gwen, just saying."

"No, 'cause have you seen people with long hair dye their hair a different color?" I'm sure he had, but I wasn't going to let reality stop me from making my decision, so I answered for him before he got a chance. "Of course you haven't. So I'm going to get it cut really short, and then I'm changing up the color." He told me that if it was what I wanted, he wasn't going to stop me, because my happiness made him happy. That made me smile, and I realized that no other guy would have done this for me, giving me all this freedom for free.

I opened the salon door and we walked in, both determined to accept whatever change I was destined for. "Good afternoon! What kind of service would you like today?" the middle-aged salon attendant asked, to which I pointed wordlessly at one of the pictures on the wall. She looked hesitant to cut my hair, but after I refused to change my mind she seemed to come on-board with it. "Alright, if that's what you want, I'll do it," she said, motioning towards an empty chair. "Please, take a seat."

I looked at Duncan with glee and he gave a small nod, so I sat down in the chair. She put a cloth over me so that hair wouldn't get into my clothes. I saw her pick up the scissors and rearrange my hair to be cut. The first snip was heard and I closed my eyes, knowing that there was no going back. A handful of hours later, she announced that she was done. I slowly opened my eyes and looked into the mirror, getting my first glimpse at the new me. Gone was the long brown hair; in its place was short hair with dyed black and teal streaks. I smiled, loving my new appearance and how it showed my wild side, something that had been trapped within me until that moment.

"I like it, Gwen." Duncan's voice came right as I was thinking to ask him his opinion. "I honestly think that looks good on you. You should have made this decision a long time ago. You've gone from 'good girl' to 'hot and banging' with a little change."

"You're joking," I said with a laugh, punching at his shoulder.

"Nope, not joking, Pasty." The nickname he'd used when we first met was rough on my ears, but he seemed to have enjoyed using it there so I didn't mention that. After we paid for the cut and color and were standing outside the salon, he brought up a discovery he'd made earlier that day. "While you were getting your work done, I ran into some bikers who want to take us out for some late night fun. Care to come?" I didn't hesitate on agreeing, and so we hopped back on the bike. Hearing that engine roar made my heart beat faster.

We rode off toward the setting sun, the fact that we'd spent so long on the bike already not anything bothersome. During the ride, I gingerly raised one hand up into the air and embraced the wind. I raised my head toward the clouds, with pleasure written all over my face. This was so relaxing and amazing, completely crazy and unlike anything I'd ever done before. My body had desired this, all of it, and it still wanted more. I wanted Duncan and nothing else. I was going to make sure that nothing was going to get in my way of having him, no matter the cost.

Eventually, we stopped at a gas station along the highway, where five or six other motorcycles were waiting for us. When we pulled in, all of the other bikers cheered in celebration, as if they'd been expecting us. "Told you that we'd make it," Duncan said while he got off of the motorcycle, after their cheers had died down. "Everyone, this is Gwen." Everyone said their hellos, and one biker even asked Duncan where he'd found me. "Oh, we kind of randomly met and stuck to each other since. She actually seems to like me."

"Wish women like that would appear more often, ya know?" another one of the bikers said, a sour expression on his face. Duncan told him to not complain and just be on the lookout for a girl to come his way. That got us all laughing, especially when the guy (his name was Mal) hopped onto his bike and started it up, which caused all of us to get on as well. Unbeknownst to me, it seemed Duncan was the leader, and it felt great riding along with him as everyone followed our lead.

It wasn't long until night was upon us, and we came upon a seemingly random spot in the open desert where we all stopped. After a little investigation, I found that there was some wood around, clearly placed to be able to start a fire—and once the flames were burning, Duncan was climbing back on the motorcycle, but held a hand up to stop me from joining. From inside the saddle bag he grabbed a bottle of alcohol and a gun and passed it my way. "I'm going to do some stunts," he told me, to which I cautioned for him to be careful, punctuating my words with a small kiss. "Oh don't you worry, I'm always careful."

I sighed, watching him go, and a poetic line came to mind, one that reflected most of my journey of finding myself. I spoke softly, "Been trying real hard not to get into trouble, but I got a war on my mind. So I just ride." I heard the roars of the motorcycles as everyone was doing their tricks and I watched to the best of my ability while drinking from that bottle of alcohol, but there was a magic that was lost in not being part of the action, so my celebrating with them didn't come until way after they were done. Duncan had come up to me and whispered into my ear about going somewhere secretive, to which I asked him what exactly he meant.

"Just follow me." So that's what I did. We ran for a while until we came to some scrub brush and I decided to fire the gun into the air, nearly giving Duncan a heart attack in the process. "I totally forgot about you having that thing." He took the gun from my hands and cast it aside. "There. One less thing to worry about."

I shrugged, the alcohol I'd imbibed catching up to me. "Duncan, can I just say that your arms make me feel safe? Like, I feel complete and secure with you."

"I love you getting all sappy like that. Hell, I love you always. Know that, Gwen? I think I'd go crazy without you around to keep me happy. I think it's about time I give you a little something for your troubles." He leaned in to kiss me, which I accepted and very soon after we were falling into the sand, not stopping for more than a second at a time to take in breaths before we were back to our frenzied kissing.

Finally we stopped, our faces separated by next to nothing as we spoke simultaneously. I said, "I love you to the moon and back, Duncan," while he chose to say, "You are the light at the end of the tunnel, Gwen." We got off of each other and laid there in the sand, letting the desert's serene silence set the stage for our thoughts and dreams to fester.

"Gwen?" he asked after what felt like ages, and I rolled onto my side to look at him, waiting for his follow-up. "How would you like to complete this night?" I was a bit confused, as everything that had happened already was so unique and freeing and wonderful. He saw, in the dim light, that I was trying to piece together what he could be implying, and he sputtered, "I was wondering if we could…well…."

It took me a moment to figure out what Duncan was trying to suggest, but it did eventually hit me: he wanted us to take our relationship to the next level. I was hesitant. I hadn't known Duncan for very long, despite all the things we'd done together, and it felt like it may have been too soon to do anything. But at the same time, ever since our first meeting in that canyon I knew I had I wanted him, that I wanted to let out bodies become one at some point. "Duncan, I think I know what you're trying to say."

He seemed shocked that I'd come up with it on my own, but when I leaned towards him and told him I thought it was a good idea, he relaxed a bit. We looked between each other and leaned in to kiss, before he was up against me and undoing his belt, which I grabbed and discarded. This was the point of no return, us stripping down and grinding against each other in the dark and quiet of the desert, and we called each other's names out in the heat of the passionate moment. Our eyes locked after a while, and we knew that we'd gotten to a place we'd both been looking for. I put my lips onto his and he did the same onto mine, interlocking in both body and soul. I don't know what it was, but we'd found some things that night that I knew I'd needed: to become one with someone, to be free, to stop the war on our minds, to just ride.

Every night, I used to pray that I'd find my people, and finally, I did on the open road. We had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we desired anymore, except to make our lives into works of art. Live wild, die happy, be crazy and have fun. Forget about all of the troubles people bring on you. Live life to the fullest and you'll die the other woman, while belonging to not someone, but everyone.

I believe in what this country used to be and in the person that I want to be. I believe that personal freedom can be found on the open road. My motto has always been: I believe in the kindness of strangers. And when I'm at war with myself I ride, I just ride.

Who are we? Are we in touch in all of our dreams and desires? Have we created a world where we have the chance to experience them? While most people might not have done so, I've done it and I may be fucking crazy, but I am free. I am who I always wanted to be and now, I can stop being alone and ride until I see the stars in your eyes. Ride off to the place where you can follow your dreams without fear, to do whatever you want. The only person that is in control of your destiny is you. So why stop?

If you don't even try what you want to do, you won't go anywhere within this world. I've been trying hard not to get into trouble, but let's face it, that's not possible. So, do you know what I do during those times? I just ride. Just do that, ride off to your future, your destiny and find the stranger whose safety and comfort you seek. Just ride.

-Gwen

So this is the SS fic for Wish I Was A Pirate. I kinda expected you since you dropped a hint over Staci/B on a random Skype convo and that immediately gave it away for me by random luck. However, I enjoyed writing this for you since this is the best Gwuncan I've ever done and this couldn't have happened without the talents of Amanda's work and editing, so give her thanks also.

This oneshot was influenced from the Lana Del Rey song "Ride". However, I didn't want to be cliché about the title, so I called it "Just Ride" which is fitting. Point across, when I heard the song, it instally made me think of Gwuncan and the words soon came to me in no time. I would recommend it to everyone since it's so good.

Merry Christmas, George! I do hope you enjoy this. c: