Well, here's chapter three... and only a year late! To be honest, I'd probably recommend rereading the first two chapters before attempting this one, particularly because chapter 1 has recently been pretty heavily edited. In any case, I hope you enjoy this extremely belated new addition.


The screams woke her.

Jerking her head off of the pillow, Julia looked around blindly, momentarily disoriented as her eyes squinted in the darkness.

A moment later, the sound came again, a shrill, insistent wail— and with it came some semblance of cognizance, her fingers tightening around the cushion as she recalled her surroundings. Arching her back against the confines of the McAlister's couch— now occupied by her alone— Julia shifted to prop herself up slightly on one elbow, still near-blind in the dark lounge room.

"Barbie?" she called softly, a tiny prickle of anxiety lodging like a splinter under her skin.

"Here," was his low reply, the nearness of his voice instantly soothing her. Shifting towards the sound, she peered over the edge of the couch, feeling the tension in her muscles ease almost instantly as her slowly-adjusting eyes took in the darkened shape on the floor beside her.

For a moment, she simply looked down at him, feeling his returning gaze on her through the gloom.

When she finally spoke, her words were soft, a prelude to an apology. "Did I kick you off?"

"No," he answered, a subtle warmth to his tone as he explained, "Just thought you'd be more comfortable with a bit more room."

Frowning slightly, she forced her sleep-clouded mind to focus, pushing the continuing cries from upstairs to the back of her mind as she tried to remember. Slowly, like a developing photograph, the vague memory came back to her; his slow, careful movements as he'd sat them both up, his steadying hands at her shoulders as he'd risen from the couch, slipping strong arms beneath her before lifting and resettling her as easily as if she'd been a child.

As the image came back to her fully, she closed her eyes in embarrassment, remembering the way she'd clung to his arm as he'd begun to pull away, gripping tight like the world would fall apart if she let go. Beyond that, her memory faltered; he must have knelt there by the couch until she'd fallen back to sleep, waiting until her hold had loosened before extricating his arm and settling down to get some rest himself. Where he'd found the blankets that now covered each of them, she had no idea.

Opening her eyes once again against the blackness, Julia pushed back the memory of a phantom hand smoothing back her hair, of gentle fingertips against her cheek. Drawing in a slow breath, she bit her lip, her cheeks heating with a mixture of embarrassment and something she couldn't quite name.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, staring across the dim room, deliberately looking anywhere but where he lay.

A tiny, amused huff drifted up from the space beside her, so soft she almost missed it. When he did speak a moment later, his voice was gentle. "Don't be. The floor's fine."

Shifting to look down at him once more, Julia hesitated for a moment, then drew her hand from under the cushion to reach down tentatively, her palm resting lightly upon his chest. A moment later, she felt his fingers cover her own, his grip warm as he lifted her hand briefly to his lips before returning it to its previous spot, keeping it cradled carefully against his sternum, directly above his heart.

Neither said anything more, and as the soft cries from upstairs faded away completely, Julia simply closed her eyes, letting the gentle rhythm of Barbie's breathing slowly lull her back into sleep.

###

The next time she woke, her fingers found only open air.

She was fully awake and alert almost instantly, a small bolt of panic jump-starting her nerves. Swiftly lifting herself on an elbow, she looked over the edge of the couch, her stomach clenching at the sight of the empty space beside her.

Drawing in a slow, steadying breath, Julia forced herself to relax, willing her racing heart to calm. Once she had regained her ability to focus, the morning sunlight filling the room became clearly evident, as did the realization that Barbie was highly likely to simply be in one of the nearby rooms, having breakfast or checking on the other occupants of the house.

Just as she had that thought, she heard noises drifting from the direction of the kitchen, her head dropping momentarily to her pillow with an embarrassed huff at her overreaction. Then, pushing herself up from the couch, she stretched, straightening her dress and running a hand half-heartedly though her hair before wandering through to the other room.

It was not Barbie she found, though, but Joe, a troubled frown on the teen's face as he searched vainly through the cupboards, his movements careful as he tried not to make any noise.

"Morning," Julia said, crossing to grab a glass from beside the sink.

"Oh, morning," Joe answered distractedly, glancing over briefly before poking his head back into the cupboard. Filling up her glass, Julia turned to lean against the counter, her eyes involuntarily glancing around for any sign of the house's other occupants.

Or, more accurately, of one occupant in particular.

A second later, Joe's voice emerged from the cupboard, his words accompanied by the sound of shifting pots and pans. "Barbie's out front, in case you were looking."

Hastily swallowing down her mouthful of water, Julia cleared her throat slightly, her deliberately casual tone fooling neither of them.

"Out front?"

Drawing back from the cupboard, the teen gave her an uncomfortable look.

"Yeah, you know— digging," he said haltingly, seeming unsure how to word his answer. "For Alice's…. uh, for Alice."

"Oh," she murmured, her eyes lowering. Her thoughts lingered sadly on Alice for a few moments before she drew a breath, her gaze flicking towards the front of the house. "How long has he been out there?"

Joe shrugged, his lanky shoulders jerking awkwardly. "Maybe an hour? I saw him when he came upstairs to check on Harriet and the baby, and we kinda talked about it and decided that Alice should stay here. I mean, Norrie and Carolyn haven't come out yet so we couldn't ask them, but Barbie said that he'd dig it for them anyway and if they wanted to take her somewhere else then he'd dig them another one."

Thinking that over, Julia released a slow breath, then gave Joe an encouraging smile. "I think that was a good idea, Joe. It's nice here. It'll be a good place for her."

Joe nodded, his eyes downcast. "Yeah. Barbie and I picked a nice spot, too, near one of the trees in the yard."

There was silence for a moment as they both thought of the woman lying upstairs, the woman who had spent the last days of her life surrounded by near-strangers, and who would now remain forever in a town that was not her home. Sighing quietly, Julia drained the rest of her glass, then turned to refill it as Joe returned to his former task.

Carrying the glass out into the front hall with her, she left it on a side table for a moment while she ducked into the bathroom, freshening up as best she could. Grabbing the glass again as she emerged, she headed outside, pausing briefly on the porch to watch him work.

He'd made good headway already, the neat rectangle already almost waist-deep— and it occurred to her then that this was likely not his first experience with digging graves.

The thought gave her mixed feelings, respect and pity being the strongest. Descending the porch steps, she walked across the lawn in the sunshine, consciously enjoying its warmth on her skin. Despite all that had happened, there were still some good things left to appreciate— the kindness of strangers, warm sunshine, and most of all, Barbie— and she was going to try to hold on to that.

"You're pretty good at that," she observed aloud as she drew near, ensuring that her tone conveyed her lack of judgment for the connotations. "Nice military corners."

Looking down at him as he accepted the glass from her, Julia felt the familiar flutter in her stomach, her eyes glancing at the muscles that shifted beneath his t-shirt before returning to his face, the sweat and dirt doing nothing to detract from his appeal.

"Pretty sure you're thinking about a bed."

Well, now she was. Specifically, one with him in it, which— she thought with a slight shiver— would probably be hers. Tonight.

Forcibly drawing back her focus, she lifted her shoulder in a tiny, casual shrug. "Same shape."

Leaning against the side of the grave, Barbie took another quiet sip, then lifted his gaze to hers.

"Any idea when Carolyn and Norrie want to bury her?"

Glancing over at the house, Julia let out a soft breath. "They haven't come downstairs yet."

Turning to look back at him, she gave her head a small shake, her voice low. "I can't imagine losing a spouse like that."

"Yeah," he muttered by way of agreement, shovel already back in hand. As he began to dig once more, she turned to go, then paused as a thought occurred to her.

"It's strange, huh?"

Leaning on his shovel, Barbie looked up at her, his brow creasing. "What's that?"

"Alice dies, Harriet has a baby… same house, same day?" she said, lifting her eyebrows. Coincidence or not, it was definitely odd; but then again, nothing about the dome had ever been normal. "Circle of life," she said after a moment, almost more to herself than him. Then, leaving him to it, she slowly headed back towards the house, her thoughts drifting.

The dome continued to add more mysteries. Maybe, sometime soon, they would finally find some answers.

###

The sound of boots climbing the steps roused her from her daydream, her eyes opening to blink against the sunlight. Looking over from her spot on the porch swing, she saw him pause to lean against the railing, a tiny almost-smile on his face as his eyes met hers.

"Didn't realize you were still out here," he commented, the curve of his biceps momentarily distracting her as he casually folded his arms across his chest.

Blinking, Julia forcibly shifted her gaze upward, giving a small shrug. "Just needed a little time away from everyone, I guess."

She saw him process that, his posture straightening as he glanced towards the door. "You want me to—"

Instantly, she shook her head, not bothering to let him finish. Instead, she turned so that she could place her feet back on the ground, her body shifting aside to make room for him, the swing rocking gently beneath her. Looking up at him with a tiny, shy smile, she tilted her head just slightly, a silent invitation.

Pushing away from the porch rail, he came to her, his shoulder brushing against hers as he settled onto the swing beside her. Feigning more confidence than she actually felt, Julia reached out, curling her hand over his where it rested on his knee— and felt a tiny bubble of warmth form in her chest as his hand automatically adjusted to suit her grip, his fingers warm and strong as they closed gently around hers.

For a minute or two they simply sat there in silence, looking out over the sunny yard, the dark scar of the now-completed grave marring the otherwise cheerful green. If Barbie noted the fact that her spot on the swing would have afforded her a perfect view of him as he'd worked, he said nothing; in truth, he seemed too distracted to even notice, his gaze contemplative, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere as his thumb brushed absentmindedly back and forth against her skin.

Her thoughts, however, were focused very much on the present; as ever, she was hyperaware of his proximity, tiny tingles radiating along her nerves from every place they touched. It was ridiculous, a schoolgirl-crush kind of reaction that was completely unfamiliar to her, and it rattled her even as it thrilled her.

She was still wondering at the strength of their unexpected connection when she felt Barbie draw in a deep breath beside her, his voice low and almost tentative as he spoke her name.

"Julia…"

Suddenly, a burst of static cut through the air, his next words abruptly silenced as Linda's voice crackled through his radio.

"Barbie? You there?"

He exhaled sharply at the interruption, though out of frustration or relief she couldn't be sure. Unsure of exactly what his next words had been about to be, she was feeling a similar combination of emotions, ones that were immediately joined by a tiny flicker of disappointment as his hand left hers, his body leaning away momentarily as he reached back to draw his radio from his belt.

Glancing at her, he lifted the radio to his lips. "Yeah, Linda, what's up?"

"We need you in at the station. Jim's calling a meeting."

She saw his eyes close briefly, then glance out towards the road, his expression resigned. "I'm out at the McAlister place. Haven't got any wheels so the fastest I can get there is about fifteen minutes, maybe ten."

"I'll come get you," Linda's voice replied immediately. "I'll fill you in on the situation on the ride back."

"Copy," was his only reply, his jaw taut as he lowered the radio, seemingly suppressing a sigh.

The next moment, he twisted away from her, tucking the radio back into his belt on the opposite side before straightening once more, his body brushing against her side. Then, to her surprise, she felt his hand slip under her wrist, meeting hers palm-to-palm as he threaded his fingers through hers.

Returning his grip, Julia squeezed gently. "They need you," she murmured, her eyes lowering to their joined hands so he wouldn't see the real truth that lay behind them, the request to stay that was on the tip of her tongue. She felt his eyes lift to her face, then shift to follow her own gaze to their hands, his thumb rubbing slowly across hers as he thought.

He sighed softly, and seemed about to speak when he suddenly stilled, his fingers tightening around hers, his gaze becoming sharp as he stared at their hands.

Or rather, at her hand— and her now-bare ring finger, previously unnoticed in the midst of the drama and distractions of the day before— and she could have almost sworn she heard the faintest stutter in his breathing, so tiny that it was almost imperceptible. He recovered quickly, however, his grip easing as he looked out over the yard once more, his body calm, his usual unshakable composure swiftly restored.

Neither made any mention of the ring's absence, or the significance thereof; but as his thumb resumed its gentle trail against her skin, his body pressing just a little closer to hers, she still felt as if they'd both said what they needed to say.

A few minutes later, they saw Linda's cruiser approaching down the road, and she watched Barbie's jaw clench just slightly, his fingers tightening reflexively around hers.

"Do you want to catch a ride back with us?" he asked, his voice quiet, something in his tone telling her that it was more than just a casual offer. When his gaze lifted to hers, she saw the answer there, his reluctance to go taking on a completely new meaning as she realized that it was not the relative comfort and security of the farmhouse that he didn't want to leave, but her.

Oh.

"No, it's okay," she told him gently, her body leaning into his for a moment. "I think I'm going to stay around here for the day, keep an eye on the teens and make sure Harriet and the baby are doing alright."

Then, after a brief pause, she added quietly, "We'll keep an eye out for any trouble, Barbie. We'll be okay."

His face serious, Barbie gave a short nod. "I'll see you back here, then?"

Giving him a small smile, she nodded. "I'll be here."

For a moment longer he held her gaze, then finally looked away and rose wordlessly to his feet, his fingers squeezing hers briefly before he finally let go, jogging down the porch steps to meet Linda. As he reached the car, she saw his eyes lift to meet hers one last time before he slid into the passenger's seat, the door closing behind him with a dull slam.

Throughout it all, her smile held, fading only once the cruiser had swung back around and began heading back into town, pulling Barbie into whatever new crisis had befallen Chester's Mill.

Rising to stand silently at the porch rail, she watched the cruiser disappear from sight, then released a slow breath, the worry she had so carefully suppressed now rising into her chest, a heavy weight that wrapped around her heart.

Be safe, she thought, then turned sharply and crossed the porch, stepping over the threshold and disappearing inside without looking back, the door swinging firmly shut behind her.

###

The kitchen was quiet; its occupants downcast, subdued, the darkness outside seeming to reflect their mood.

Leaning against the counter, Julia contemplated her scrambled eggs, the fork loose in her hand as she stared unseeingly at the plate. At the table, Harriet nursed baby Alice, murmuring quietly to the sleeping infant while the two young McAlisters poked halfheartedly at their own dinners, too tired and dejected for conversation.

It had been a big day for all of them, taxing in more ways than one, and the knowledge of what was still to come— the burial of the woman they'd considered a friend— loomed over them all like a dark cloud.

Julia's thoughts shifted back and forth, lingering on the family upstairs, on the mystery of mini-domes and monarchs, and— perhaps most of all— on Barbie's continued absence, tiny seeds of real fear beginning to grow and bloom in her chest, joining the muted sense of worry that had long since ingrained itself in her bones. There'd been no word from him in the hours since he'd left with Linda, and the dull rumble of a distant explosion that had echoed through the dome barely an hour or two before had left her feeling increasingly uneasy, her gut heavy with an unshakable sense of dread.

The thoughts of Barbie had her lifting her head yet again, glancing past the dining table and towards the doorway with searching eyes— an action she had repeated countless times over the evening, always with the same result.

No matter how much she looked, Barbie did not appear.

Spearing a piece of egg with her fork, Julia thought about Joe's words from earlier, his suggestion that she and Barbie were... something. A thing. She hadn't thought too deeply about it— in fact, since that small moment of panic outside the cement factory, she had actually put quite a bit of effort into not thinking too much about it— but the more this day wore on, the harder it became not to analyze what existed between them. She knew she felt something for him, felt a lot for him, just as she knew that when she'd needed comfort the night before, he had been the only one she'd wanted to provide it. And he had, without hesitation or restraint; his arms coming protectively around her, drawing her into him, his embrace feeling far too much like home.

She was just considering— not for the first time that evening— that Joe might actually be more correct than even he realized, when the faint sound of the front door closing had her head snapping up once more, her eyes fixing on the kitchen doorway as the sound of muted footfalls drew closer.

When he appeared in the doorway a moment later— slightly dirty and disheveled, but seeming altogether unharmed— she felt her breath catch somewhere in her throat, her heart pounding hard and fast as his eyes met and held with hers, the intensity in his gaze telling her that she had not been the only one who'd been waiting all day for this moment.

Oh, yeah, they were definitely a thing.

A single, silent moment of communication was all they had before the kitchen's other occupants intruded: Joe sat abruptly upright, his expression lightening considerably as he called a greeting; Angie turned in her chair, favouring Barbie with a tired but welcoming smile; and Harriet— who, Julia knew, had come to view Barbie as somewhat of her own personal hero— simply beamed, reaching out a hand as she excitedly invited him to come see little Alice.

Smiling at the group around the table— somehow Julia knew she was the only one that could tell the effort it took him— Barbie sent her one more expressive glance before crossing the room to Harriet's side, his manner easy and attentive as he listened to her recount Alice's every action over the day, even allowing her to hand the sleeping baby over for him to hold.

Still half-watching him, Julia made up another plate of scrambled eggs and took it over to where he stood, one hand gently touching his back as she placed the plate on the table before him. He turned at her touch, baby Alice still cradled in his large arms, and the quiet look of thanks that he gave her was so intimate, so full of warmth and tenderness that she actually had to take a step back, the image of him with a child creating a sudden and unexpected surge of wanting that hit her like a physical blow.

She almost didn't hear his murmured thanks, could only force a small smile and make a hasty retreat to her place beside the counter, determinedly focusing on her own meal until her emotions had settled once more.

When she finally looked up, Harriet was once more rocking Alice, and Barbie now sat in the chair beside her, responding to Joe's questions about his day with simple, broad answers that told her the truth was significantly more complicated. She'd hear the full story from him later, she knew, once they were alone— a thought that yet again had her wishing that time would pass more quickly, that she and Barbie could be home already, could finally have time together free from distractions or interruptions.

It was a wish that she knew wasn't going to be granted any time soon.

When there was a slight pause in Joe's questions, Barbie smoothly changed the subject. "How are Norrie and Carolyn holding up?"

At the reminder, Joe seemed to deflate a little, his eyes glancing toward the ceiling. "They're ready. They wanted to wait for you."

Eyes lowering to his near-empty plate, Barbie gave a silent nod, then a moment later drew a deep breath, clearly steeling himself. As he rose, carefully pushing his chair back from the table, Julia thought she saw just the tiniest hitch in his movements, curiosity and concern flickering briefly in her chest as she watched him.

"I'll go see them," he said in a low voice, then picked up his plate, his eyes avoiding each of the several gazes that followed his every movement.

"But you only just got to sit down—" Harriet began, but Barbie simply shook his head, his voice quiet but firm.

"They've waited long enough."

Still leaning against the counter, Julia watched as he crossed over to her side of the kitchen, his eyes holding hers briefly before he passed behind her, moving silently to the sink to rinse his dinner plate. Stepping over to him, she rested a gentle hand on his forearm, then reached for the plate.

"I've got it," she murmured softly, feeling the tension in him ease just a fraction under her touch, his breath releasing in a long, silent exhale. "Go."

"Thanks," he answered, his quiet reply seeming to convey more than just gratitude. Holding his gaze for a moment longer, she gave him a tiny nod, then stepped aside to let him go, her fingers slipping reluctantly from his arm.

As Barbie moved back through the kitchen, Joe cleared his throat slightly, sounding almost nervous as he spoke up.

"Barbie— if it's okay— I want to help."

Watching him pause, Julia saw him eye the teenager, clearly thinking.

"You got an extra shovel anywhere?"

Joe nodded earnestly, and after a split second's hesitation, Barbie gave a brief nod back.

"Go grab it."

As Joe hurriedly climbed from his seat, Barbie looked back, his eyes catching hers once more. Then, he seemed to take a deep breath, his shoulders straightening as he turned and headed back through the doorway he'd entered only minutes before, his footsteps slowly fading as he ascended the stairs.

For several minutes, there was near-silence in the kitchen as Julia quietly scrubbed the remaining dishes, everyone listening for the sounds of Barbie's return. When it came, the footfalls on the staircase now slower and more deliberate, they all knew what it meant; rising silently, they waited at the doorway for Barbie to reach the hall, his face grim, Alice's sheet-shrouded form carried respectfully in his arms.

Behind him came Norrie and Carolyn, their hands gripping each other tightly, their heads bowed.

It was Angie who went to the front door and held it open, her face pale but set as the humble funeral procession filed past her. Hearing Harriet's quiet sniffling, Julia put a hand on her shoulder in support, the two of them the last to make their way down to the graveside.

As they reached it, Barbie was carefully laying Alice's still form at the base of the grave, his touch gentle, compassionate, handling her with a care that made Julia's throat tighten. A moment later he had joined the waiting Joe, accepting the larger of the two shovels before looking to Carolyn and Norrie. At Carolyn's nod, he and Joe began the grim task of filling the grave, their shovels and Norrie's muffled sobs making the only sounds to pierce the still air.

It was only when Barbie and Joe set aside their shovels that Carolyn found the strength to speak, her voice breaking as she told them about the day she and Alice had met and how she'd known even then that she was the One. Reflexively, Julia glanced over to where Barbie stood just feet away, only to find his eyes already on her, a depth to his gaze that stole her breath.

A moment later he had shifted to her side, his hand finding hers and gripping gently.

Grateful, she squeezed his fingers slightly, then dropped her eyes to the grave. Carolyn had fallen silent, no longer able to speak, and they all now stood in silence, each saying their own prayer of thanks and farewell.

Looking around the solemn group, Julia drew a slow breath, then looked up at the invisible dome above them, her hand tightening around Barbie's as she sent up one last prayer.

A prayer that Alice would be the last they would lose.

###

Their small, motley group divided sometime later, with solemn hugs and condolences exchanged as Julia and Barbie— along with Harriet and baby Alice— finally prepared to make their way home. Fighting exhaustion, the two women shared the backseat as Barbie wound carefully through the deserted streets, always mindful of the sleeping Alice, cradled now in Julia's arms. The car itself had been part of the reason for Barbie's earlier delay; when she'd asked him about it, he'd explained— in his usual brief, unassuming way— that he'd searched for an unoccupied house and taken the car from its place in the garage, knowing that Harriet was now in need of a new one.

It was an act that was both practical and kind, just two of the many attributes she was coming to associate with Barbie. Gently stroking little Alice's soft cheek, Julia marvelled at the tiny life she held, the small being that would not have survived without him— the newest addition to the list of lives he had protected or saved since the dome had trapped him in Chester's Mill, forever entwining his fate with theirs.

With hers.

As they slowed to a stop in front of Harriet's house— only fifty or so yards from her own— Barbie sent a quick glance back at the two of them, then smoothly climbed from the car, opening her door just a moment later before leaning in to unbuckle her seatbelt for her, careful not to disturb Alice. Forcibly ignoring the complete lack of space between them, Julia managed to meet his eyes and give him a smile of thanks, both of them lingering maybe a second longer than strictly necessary before he moved back, straightening and stepping away from the car.

Carefully extricating herself from the backseat, Julia let Barbie close the door for her while she handed Alice back into Harriet's waiting arms, smiling at both mother and daughter.

"Goodnight, Harriet," she said, taking care to keep her voice down. Then, with a brief, gentle stroke of Alice's downy hair, she added, "Goodnight, little Alice."

"I can't thank you enough for everything, Julia," Harriet told her, hugging Alice close to her chest.

Smiling, Julia waved away her thanks. "What are neighbors for? Plus, in times like this we've all got to stick together, right?"

As Harriet smiled back, Julia reached out and squeezed her shoulder briefly in farewell, then turned, her eyes immediately finding Barbie's.

The nod he gave her was small, a calming certainty to his quiet words. "I'll be back soon."

And if all went to plan, he would be. The current arrangement had been decided upon back at Joe's; rather than leaving Harriet alone to care for a newborn, Barbie was going to help her gather some things from her house before taking her to stay with her sister-in-law who lived just a few streets away. Once she was settled, he'd leave her new car there with her and walk back, the whole process hopefully not taking more than an hour or so.

She'd already offered to go with them, to follow in her Prius so that Barbie would have a ride home— but he'd gently turned her down, his eyes almost too understanding as they'd met hers, as if he could see her reluctance to be parted from him again warring with the growing sense of longing for her shower and bed. Seeing that same understanding in his eyes now, she didn't bother to repeat her offer, instead simply drawing in a silent breath, her fingers curling as she fought the urge to reach for him.

"Okay," was all she said, but the words she left unspoken were just as easy to hear.

Just make sure you do come back.

Their eyes held for a moment longer, and then with a last brief round of 'goodnights' they were all moving, Barbie and Harriet heading for Harriet's front door and Julia for her own. After several yards, she paused and glanced back, smiling a little as she saw Barbie now carefully holding Alice while Harriet fumbled with her keys, some murmured comment from him making the new mother laugh.

Standing silently, Julia watched them disappear into the house, then breathed out slowly, the small smile still lingering on her lips as she turned again for home, thinking only of the warmth and comfort of her bed— and of the moment when Barbie would join her in it.

###

It was ridiculous that the simple sound of his footsteps on the stairs could give her butterflies.

Staring blindly at the page of her magazine, she tried incredibly hard not to count the seconds until he reached the door, her heart pounding faster as she saw him appear in her peripheral vision, his steps faltering as he hesitated slightly at the threshold.

Feeling her own tiny prickle of anxiety, she lifted her head, an invitation already on the tip of her tongue when she saw his eyes drop to his pack on the floor by the bed— moving it to her bedroom had been the first thing she'd done after getting home, the clearest message she could send— and then left to meet hers, his hand rising to knock lightly on the door-frame as he slowly stepped forward, the sound half-greeting, half-request.

Relieved, she felt her lips curve, her eyes travelling over him as if it had been days rather than a single hour since she had seen him.

"How was your day, honey?" she asked wryly, her words having their intended effect as he seemed to relax a little, a tiny smile quirking his lips as he crossed the floor to sink wearily onto his side of the bed.

"I've had better," he muttered, resting his forearms on his knees with a sigh. "How about you?"

Putting her magazine aside— not that she'd taken in a word of it in the last few minutes anyway— she let out a breath.

"Well," she began, unsure how to find the words to explain the events of this morning. Then, shifting closer to him, she spent half a moment simply watching him as he tilted his head, working the cricks from his neck, then leaned down to begin removing his boots, her attention distracted by the shift of muscles beneath his shirt, the powerful but graceful lines of his body.

Blinking, she regained her focus, then stated simply, "I've seen some things today that have been testing the limits of my comprehension."

He didn't pause in his actions, but she saw his head tilt slightly to the side, clearly listening, so she went on.

"What do you think of when I say 'The Monarch will be crowned'?"

At that he did pause, twisting to look over his shoulder at her, his eyes meeting hers.

"What're you talking about?" he asked, his tone making it clear that he had no more answers than she did.

Her eyes still locked with his, she lifted her shoulders in a small, helpless shrug. "I wish I knew."

His brow creasing, he held her gaze for a moment longer, then turned back to his task, the tiniest hint of stiffness once again evident in his movements. Sighing at his back, she shook her head, repeating the words to herself as if the meaning might suddenly become clear.

It didn't.

Boots now removed, Barbie stood to place them beside his pack, then reached over his shoulder to drag his shirt off over his head. Watching him from her spot on the bed, Julia's mood instantly shifted from enjoyment of the show to stunned horror as she saw the mottled mess staining his skin, several fresh bruises blooming over his back and ribs.

"Barbie!" she burst out, reflexively scrambling across the bed to kneel at its edge, shock and dismay roiling in her gut. Blinking back the sudden burn behind her eyes, she watched as he wordlessly dropped his shirt on top of his pack, his chest expanding with a slow, silent breath as he turned towards her.

Her own breath hissed between her teeth as her eyes immediately fell on one particularly nasty bruise on the left side of his ribcage, her fingers already reaching for him before she hastily snatched them back.

Lifting her head, she locked her gaze with his, a surge of anger and protectiveness making her voice sharp.

"What the hell happened?"

One shoulder lifted in a half-shrug, his expression unreadable. "Ollie was using his well to control the town's water supply, which naturally Jim didn't like, so he organised an attack on the farm to gain control of the well."

Still reeling, Julia blinked hard, trying to gather her scrambled thoughts. "You fought for Jim?"

"No," he said evenly, looking at his scraped and dirtied hands. "I blew up the well."

"You what?"

"From the map that Jim showed Linda and me, it looked like disabling Ollie's well would cause a backflow into the other dried-up springs nearby, giving us more water sources," Barbie explained, the tiniest hint of uncertainty shadowing his eyes as he lifted them to meet hers, almost as if seeking her approval. "Linda and I thought it was the best option for the town."

Staring up at him, she held her breath. "Did it work?"

"Yeah," he replied quietly, the subtle undercurrent of relief in his voice causing a swell of tenderness and pride in her chest. "Since everyone stopped fighting once the well wasn't there to fight for, Linda was able to go and check. She let me know over the walkie while I was on my way back to Joe's."

Frowning, she touched her fingers lightly to his chest, taking care not to hurt him. "Then how did you get these?"

He grimaced slightly. "One of Ollie's guys saw me just as I was laying the charge."

Her free hand clenched into a fist, a low simmer of anger burning beneath her skin. "I hope you gave him worse."

Letting out a small, amused huff, he looked down, gently taking her hand and easing her clenched fingers apart to link with his. "Probably not. Last time I saw him he was out cold, though."

"Good," she answered, rising a little on her knees as her other hand slid up from his chest to cup the back of his neck, drawing him closer as her lips found his.

For a few moments the kiss was gentle, sweet, the tension in their bodies slowly melting into relief, soothed by the other's touch. But then his fingers tightened around hers, his other hand lifting to cup her face, and suddenly the kiss became deeper, more heated, his mouth moving over hers in a way that was both immeasurably tender and completely possessive. Her response was instant, automatic, her heart pounding hard in her chest as she kissed him back hard, wanting him and not caring that he knew it.

Eventually, she managed to gather together enough focus to pull back just a fraction, their faces scarcely an inch apart as they breathed together.

Eyes still closed, she brushed her nose lightly against his, a trace of playfulness rising to join the desire that already burned hot in her veins.

"Are you very injured?" she purred against his mouth, drawing their joined hands to her waist as her other hand released his neck to drift steadily downward, her fingers trailing over smooth skin and taut muscles until they reached the waistband of his jeans, hooking in the fabric and tugging gently.

A low rumble vibrated from his chest as his hand dropped from her cheek to slide under the hem of her camisole, his warm palms settling on her waist before pulling her close against him, his body making it clear that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

"I'm suddenly feeling a lot better," he answered huskily, a devilish smile still curving his lips as he pressed them to hers.

Responding eagerly to his kiss, she worked a hand between them, fumbling with the button of his jeans for a moment before tugging blindly at the unyielding denim, Barbie's lips still covering hers as his steady hands reached down to help her. Within seconds his jeans and briefs had hit the floor, followed a moment later by her camisole, his calloused palms skimming over the newly exposed skin, leaving trails of fire that had every inch of her body responding, coming alive in a way that it only ever did for him.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him the way she'd been dreaming of all day, her lips never leaving his as she slowly drew him back down onto the bed. He kissed her back like he'd die if he didn't, his body radiating heat as he braced himself above her, surrounding her, closing her in and the rest of the world out. Giving herself over to him completely, she lifted her hips, allowing him room to tug down her tiny shorts until she could kick them off, her breath catching as he pressed against her once more, his body taut with carefully restrained need, her name escaping his lips on a ragged breath.

Caught up in her own desperate need, she clutched at his shoulders, her legs wrapping around his waist as she fought to get closer— to erase the last of the remaining space between them, both physical and metaphorical— drawing a choked groan from him before finally he was filling her, completing her, her body shuddering as she buried her face in his neck, her mind suddenly clear of all but a single, fierce thought.

Mine.


Sorry for the fade-to-black, kids. Hope you can forgive me.

In any case, thanks for reading!

-Laura