Suppose I said
Colors change for no good reason

At the end of the Miller's driveway, Beck pulled on Heather's hand. "Should we really try to be sneaking in to town in the middle of the day?"

She thought about it a moment and then shook her head. "Probably not. I don't want to keep you outside too long though. You look ready to fall over in a light wind."

And he knew he did. He'd walked almost five hundred miles in the last few months, scavenging food and begging charity from occupied houses and ghost towns along the way back to Jericho.

He had no desire, however, to risk being taken in to custody again. "I'll be fine."

She gave him an accessing look. Her eyes saw through the dirt and grime, he knew, to the man beneath and it made him nervous in a way he couldn't explain.

"Well, I was out here surveying. I suppose we could do that while we're waiting for the sun to set."

A grateful smile was his offering to her, his thanks for not questioning his reluctance. She glanced back at the Miller place and then looked up the road, away from Jericho. There was another farm house not too far away. "Let's go then." She smiled reassuringly and squeezed his hand before heading to the next homestead.

Over the course of the afternoon they visited seven homes. Heather and Beck were queit as they went room to room, cataloguing and moving things to each living room for a later pickup. She wrote down each item, meticulously documenting where they were at, what was there, and what quality it was in.

In the last house of the day, having circled to the west end of the city, they found a cache of men's toiletries. Heather found them in a drawer under some old t-shirts. She immediately threw these things in to her backpack along with a couple of changes of clothes without a word to Beck.

He'd need them, as soon as they got back in to town.

Beck was waiting for her downstairs in what had been an office. He was flipping idly through a book, and he chuckled as she walked in. "What's up?"

He glanced back at her, clearly amused, and held up the book. 'Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus'

"Interesting choice. Any reason for that one?" She joined him in front of a large bookshelf, eyeing the choices herself. They seemed mostly comprised on trashy romance novels and parenting manuels. The combination sent her into giggles.

"It seems like whoever lived here didn't know how to do the whole romance thing very well. There's manuals for everything someone learns from life; it's like they didn't experience all those things that teach us about life, instead chosing to read from books to find the answers."

"Are you saying book worms are bad?" There was a challenging note to her voice and she actually raised an eyebrow at him.

He chuckled again and put the book back. "Of course not. Moderation, however, is always a good. And given the choice between learning about sex from a wild exaggeration instead of sharing the act with someone special seems like a strange comparison."

She glanced up at him from the book she'd been examining and the look in his eyes stilled her mind. It was . . . primal. Heather could imagine he was thinking of sex. Hell, she was thinking of sex.

Beck broke the look and shook his head. "And I can't imagine reading a book to find out what it's like to hold your child for the first time or brush them off after they've fallen. That seems like a cheap substitute for the real thing."

He sighed and buried his hands in his pockets. The thought of his family didn't depress him so much with their absence but for the things that could have been. He still remembered his daughter describing in detail her wedding. When she'd been seven. It had been silly things, like pink frothy icing on the cake and pink frothy dresses on the bridesmaids.

If someone told him there was a book somewhere out there that explained what it felt like to laugh in joyful humor with one's daughter about her walking down the aisle to Britney Spears, he wouldn't believe it.

There were things in life you couldn't learn from text. Like explaining to someone you've been thinking of almost non-stop for five years that you're afraid you're in love with who they were. That you're not sure about this new person you've found hiding in their place.

Beck turned away, sad that his thoughts were taking him here, to what would probably be sure failure.

He hadn't come back to Jericho to be lost in his head and confused. He'd done that. For five years. He was ready for a change.

Heather grasped his arm and he looked down at her hand. He hadn't really noticed before that she had some scarring that wasn't there before.

"Are you okay?"

He smiled as reassuringly as possible. "Just tired. It's been a long day."

"I bet." No malice in her voice, she pulled her hand back and walked to the window, looking at the sky. "Well, it'll be sundown in about an hour. It'll take at least two to get back to my place on foot. Do you want to start back?"

He nodded and she pulled her backpack off her shoulder. "I'm going to check in real quick. I'll be right back."

Heather didn't wait for a response, instead walking out to the porch. "Jericho, this is Heather. Over."

She waited for almost a minute before getting an answer. "Hey Heather. Good to hear your voice. What's your ETA? Over." She swore softly under her breath. She didn't want to talk to Jake right now. She was still afraid she'd give something away in her voice.

"I'm headed back now. I got a little side tracked. I'll stop by the Office when I get in with what I've got down today. If you're not there I'll just leave it on your desk. Over."

"Roger that Heather. I'm taking Em out to dinner tonight, so we'll be at Bailey's if you want to stop by and grab something to eat. Over."

She bit her lip. She really liked having dinner with the pair; the conversations were always interesting and she really liked having that companionship to wind down her evenings. Heather thought of Beck's tortured looks however. "Can't Jake. Sorry. I'm going to be exhausted. I need to get some sleep. Over."

His response was delayed, like hers and she wondered what he was doing. If he was thinking about all the mischief he was always accusing her of getting up to. "Okay. You should just come and talk to me tomorrow then. Over."

"Gotcha. Heather, over and out."

She turned the radio over in her hands, wondering if she'd be able to hide Beck from her friends. They'd have to be careful, for sure. Besides, she rationed, it wasn't like he was staying forever. Just long enough to be okay to get to Louisiana.

Beck joined her, his footsteps heavy and dragging, in the front yard. The sun was at the tree line now, making a lazy path downward and they both watched a second before he slipped his hand in to hers again.

She looked down at her hands and marveled for the first time how well they fit together. Both were worn with years of labor. Both held scars that spoke of darker, more dangerous times.

He squeezed lightly and she knew that they both still had their old strengths; that they still had that same determination that had caused angry confrontations and thankful silence. She hoped that she might see moments like that again before he left her.

As one, they started walking back to Jericho.

True to her guess, it had taken a little under an hour before the sun finally dipped below the horizon. They shared the brilliant sunset in silence, still walking. They shared the quiet night in silence as well, both with thoughts wandering in a million directions but never wanting to break this camaraderie that they'd established.

The fireflies lit their path back to the edge of town. Heather had been right; she was pleased immensely about that. The patrol that would have been a permanent fixture on the main road leading to her place only a few months before was absent. She knew the night time guards wouldn't make it here during their route for at least another couple of hours.

It was laughable how easily the pair slipped through the shadows of neighbor's houses. They avoided the ones that had dim lights glowing from within and brazenly crossed back yards of those that were dark and empty inside.

At Heather's back door, Beck leaned warily against the house for a moment, his eyes lifted skyward to the stars. Heather opened the door, not locked because there was no point anymore. She reached for the lights in the entry way but something told her to wait. To look over at Beck.

She smiled at the look of wonder and content on his face. He still looked rough around the edges but he didn't frown automatically and it seemed as though his thoughts were running to external stimuli rather than internal struggles.

"I used to know the names of all the constellations. All Eighty seven. Now I can only name a few."

She chuckled at that, and closed the door, turning and leaning on it. She tipped her head back and allowed the simple pleasure of star gazing wash over her.

"Eighty eight."

He looked at her, an amused smirk in place. Both felt the presence of one another acutely and the look brought his face close. Close enough to give her goose bumps and to cause his stomach to do funny little flips.

"Excuse me?"

Grinning, Heather turned her head too. That sounded more like the Beck she remembered. "There are eighty eight constellations."

The moments drew out between them and Beck felt like he was flying. Like he was finally free of turmoil and strife. He felt like he could stay here, just like this with Heather, for as long as he lived.

The wind picked up slightly and they both glanced at the sky, seeing clouds rolling in. Heather sighed. Another wasted moment for romance. Such was the life she'd lived for the better part of her thirty one years. She pushed off the door and turned, opening it again.

"I'm going to lead you upstairs before I hit the lights. People can see in to my first floor and they'll be able to see you with the lights on. The trees around the house keep the second floor from view, so we should be okay up there."

She held out a hand and he took it without hesitation. It felt a little forbidden, being led in to a darkened house by Heather. Like he was sneaking in to his parent's house after curfew.

She disappeared in to the darkness and whispered that they had to go up a couple of steps in to the kitchen. Heather led him slowly, quietly describing where the obstacles were and sometimes pushing him ahead of her, blocking sharp table corners. Moments like that, he would squeeze past her and hold his breath, willing his beating heart to quiet lest she hear it and realize what she was doing to him.

At the bottom of the stairs, the streetlight was filtering in and he could see the outline of where he was going finally. A wooden banister was there, thankfully, to guide his hand and he reached for it, not realizing that Heather was about to tell him there were stairs.

His arm pushed in to her and suddenly she was off balance, falling forward. He tried to catch her. Beck managed to get a hand around her arm and twist her so she was facing him when her butt hit the third stair with a thump. Her back was spared the uncomfortable fourth step by her backpack, which was squished beneath her and poking her at funny angles.

Her own hands had grabbed for his coat for support, but she'd only managed to pull her down on top of her. With a hand on either side of her head, Beck was now straddling Heather in the dark stairwell.

Heather had to laugh at the situation, knowing full well that they must look ridiculous. After a moment, Beck joined too and both found the other's laughter to be a fantastic sound. A very enjoyable and in Beck's case a sorely missed sound.

And a moment later, once their chuckles subsided, the both realized how very close they were to one another. How Heather's legs had fallen apart and now straddled Beck, whose body was flush with her. They noticed that Heather's hands had slipped inside Beck's coat, resting on the worn waistband of his pants.

They both sure as hell noticed the mere inches between their faces. Their ears buzzed, as though time had frozen for this small second and the numb feeling spread to their limbs and their fingers and toes. Both too intrigued by this new development, they watched each other in the dim light, neither really able to see, but knowing instinctively that they other looked.

With a small, and very quick prayer, Heather's fingers slipped in to Beck's belt loops and tugged. He pressed against her fully, and with a groan on Beck's part their lips met. A breathy moan slipped from Heather as the first touch was tentative and testing before she decided that this wasn't good enough at all.

Her right hand slipped from Beck's waist band to his sweatshirt and then underneath it to the soft and warm skin of his back.

Beck jumped as though he'd been burned, literally cleaning her and ending upright at the bottom of the stairs. His breathing came fast and ragged. "I'm sorry Heather."

She propped herself up on her elbows, trying to catch a glimpse at his face in the dark. His voice hadn't sounded very sorry. It had sounded scared. And it confused the hell out of her. After calming her own breathing, she climbed up.

"What are you sorry for?"

His hands found his pockets again and he took a step back. "I-I'm sure I smell pretty bad. I've been traveling for a while. And I didn't mean to take advantage of your kindness. I'm sorry. I've just been thinking about doing that for a long time."

She could have cried in frustration at his tentative words. He had meant serious business right then. She couldn't have cared how bad he smelled; the only thing that mattered was that it was him. Hadn't she dropped enough hints over the course of the day? Hadn't she held his hand for almost two hours the whole way back to Jericho?

Rationalizing, Heather imagined there was something else. Something he didn't want her to see or hear that had stopped him. And if that was the case, she'd be patient. She'd wait. "Well, then let's get you cleaned up." Heather held her hand out again and smiled.

Even though he couldn't see her face fully, he heard the smile in her voice and saw her hand, which he took. She helped him up, just like it seemed she'd been doing for most of the day. Just like her memory had when he'd been away and just like her determination had when he was faced with the lies of his job.