Disclaimer: I do not own.

A/N: Sorry for the long delay, and that it could be longer. ...I don't think I'm very good at writing stand-alone fluff. It's always so much harder to flush out than long stories with deep plots... :) So I'm sorry, if updates take a while. I'm trying.

I was speeding. I didn't like to speed, well… no. I loved to speed, but I didn't like how many tickets I'd gotten for doing so. So I had been trying not to speed, but I couldn't help it—Gil and Hank were waiting for me. I'd rushed through my fairly short and yet seemingly endless pile of paperwork and I was still running late. Even if Hank were the very last thing to be unloaded and they made Gil walk through twenty minutes worth of red tape, they were still going to be waiting on me. And I was right—I pulled up to the loading zone outside the airport to find Gil on the minimal patch of exposed grass with a rather large version of the puppy I remembered.

Gil must not have seen me—he had Hank on a leash and they were running. For fat dog who sat around all day, he didn't shy away from physical activity. Maybe I'd take him on one of my morning runs while Gil was in town… I put my car in park, disregarding the implication that Hank and I would be sleeping in the same place for that to be possible—because if Hank and I were sleeping in the same place, then Gil and I were sleeping in the same place.

Not that I didn't foresee that happening while Gil was in town—I did. In fact, I had all but foreseen it when I invited him in to coffee the night before. But I didn't want it to be implied. …He had to work for it.

I wolf-whistled and both man and dog stopped in their tracks, Gil slightly red from running and maybe from being caught, sweaty and running, on a small patch of airport grass. Hank, however, perked his ears up and turned to the sound—and the minute our eyes met, he was catapulting away from Gil, his leash yanked away and dragging on the ground behind him. I crouched down and wrapped him up in my arms, getting a face full of doggy slobber.

"Oh Hank! Who's Mommy's good boy? Who's her boy?" His tail was frantic as he nuzzled me, his face against my chest and his front paws pulling his now-massive frame into my lap, his large doggy tongue catching my chin, my shoulder, my ears as I laughed, scratching him all over. "Yes, you are! Aren't you Mommy's boy? Good boy, Hank! Good boy!"

Gil chuckled, finally catching up to the overweight animal, cheekbones still slightly pink. "He clearly remembers you…"

He had a wry, teasing smile on his face and I smirked, rolling my eyes. "Shut up. I can baby talk him if I want to, no matter how many treats you let them sneak him." Another lick up my cheek caught my eye and I backed away a little, laughing. "Okay, big boy… Momma's here. Calm down." I scratched his ears the way he'd liked as a puppy and he let out a doggy groan, settling his head against my chest to enjoy it. I looked up at Gil again, my eyes sparkling.

"…Thank you."

He smiled. "Why don't you and Hank follow me to my hotel? I can unload while you spend some more time with him, and then we can leave one car behind…"

I flashed him a smile and stood up, opening the passenger side door and telling Hank to get in. He did, sitting tall in the front seat, his big tongue dangling out of his panting mouth. I closed Hank in and he turned to look out the window at us as I wrapped my arms around Gil's waist, pulling him tightly to me and resting my head against his chest. "Thank you." I repeated, and his head tilted even as he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close.

"You already said that…"

I shook my head against him. "…Not just for Hank. For… trying so hard, to give us a second chance."

He sighed happily and kissed the top of my head, words unnecessary.

I climbed in my car and watched him walk out to a rental, parked in short term parking, a large dog carrier already in the back seat. I glanced over at Hank. "You ready, boy?"

He licked his lips and panted more, so I opened the window enough for him to stick his head out and drove slowly to the exit, waiting for Gil to pay for his parking and pull in front of us so he could lead the way to his new hotel. The dog friendly one, where he and Hank were staying, for me. All for me.

The drive wasn't long, and once Gil had reassured me that he wouldn't run away, I dug out a ball and took Hank off his leash, playing fetch outside the hotel while Gil brought his suitcase and Hank's large carrier into his new hotel room. I gave him some privacy to get settled, and when he emerged he had changed from jeans into a pair of khaki shorts and a t-shirt that said "Entomologists do it with bugs."

I grinned, and hooked Hank's leash back on his collar and easily leaned into him as he placed an arm around me. It was really too easy to slip back into the ease of trusting him implicitly… of wanting to always be closer. I drove us to the pier and Gil held my hand while Hank walked back and forth across my back seat, sticking his head out each window in turn. I wasn't really dressed for a day at the beach—I'd been dressed for the office. I was extremely thankful that I'd worn a loose-fitting skirt this morning, and that I only wore flats except in court. I would at least be moderately comfortable.

We held hands and Gil held on to Hank's leash as we walked up and down the pier—it was a tourist spot, but it was a sunny Friday, in summertime, and the kids and tourists were smiling. Overcrowded or not, it was a pleasant place to be. We stopped about half-way down at a little café with outdoor seating and ordered food. Gil ordered an extra bottle of water and pulled a paper cup he'd flattened from his pocket, reshaped it, and filled it up for Hank to drink at our feet. He was such a good Daddy. I hadn't even thought about Hank until we'd sat down and I realized how thirsty I was.

It was everything a cliché-filled afternoon in the sun in supposed to be—the food was good, but I hardly noticed, because the company kept me laughing and light-hearted. Gil bought us both ice cream cones and we walked back the way we'd come, licking them as leisurely as we walked, window-shopping the little tourist shops. Mostly they had lame t-shirts and other junk, although there were a few places I thought I might have to come back to—they had some interesting hand-made jewelry.

Gil had almost dragged both Hank and I inside when he noticed my interest, but I didn't want him buying it for me. I had to insist, time and again, that I didn't want anything.

We were almost to the car when a pretty golden retriever waltzed by us on a pink leash, tail in the air, and had Hank turning in a complete circle, tripping me up with his leash. I only stumbled a little, but I'd been bending down for another lick of my mint chocolate chip cone… and now my nose was cold. I glared at Hank and lifted a hand to wipe the ice cream away as Gil scolded the poor, love struck boxer, but he caught my hand before it reached my nose. I looked up at him and my breathing immediately increased when I realized how close he was standing to me. His eyes were fixed on the green blob on the tip of my nose and higher—and then, as if it were nothing in the world, he'd lowered his mouth, swiping first with his tongue and then both lips, sucking the ice cream away.

It was the strangest thing anyone had ever done, and yet it had my eyes fluttering and my knees feeling weak. His mouth had been so soft… warm and wet and gentle, and it had my heart racing. I struggled to meet his gaze, uncertain as to why my eyes seemed so heavily lidded all of a sudden, and when I finally did, his bright blue eyes were closing and, come to think of it, mine were closing too.

It was soft, this first kiss after so long apart. He didn't hesitate—it wasn't a brush and then a retreat, like he was uncertain. We both knew the fireworks that such contact could and would inspire, and so while his smooth, velvety lips pressed gently, they lingered, moving slowly over mine, enticing participation and reciprocation and supplication.

He pulled away before I could deepen the kiss, and I became aware that Hank was whimpering at our feet, no doubt wondering when the walk would resume. I looked into his eyes, smiling, hoping my flushed cheeks could be blamed on the sun, and knowing from the smile he returned to me that they could not. …I had to make him wait… work for it… earn it…

But that was going to be so much harder than I'd anticipated.