Neither Shawn nor Paul had spoken about what had taken place the previous night. They had both gone to bed after a few minutes crying in the sitting area. Enraptured by their own pain, neither said anything to each other when they had got into bed. Paul had spent most of the night looking at the ceiling whereas Shawn had curled up in a ball and stared at the wall.

The morning had been awkward but at least they were on speaking terms. They had packed the gear they needed for their adventure and now here they were. Paul was sat on the riverbank. He stared out at the canyon water and smiled slightly as children leaned over their rafts and pointed to fish.

"Kate's gonna be our guide," the tough Texan accent of his husband said from behind him. Paul looked up from the water but did not turn to look back at Shawn. He nodded his head. It had been Shawn's idea to hire a guide to control the boat considering neither of them had any experience at all of rapids or general boating. Paul had not argued and had let Shawn get on with it. They had decided to go the whole trail which was three days' worth of water if they stopped for lunch, dinner and slept overnight. Both were fine and Kate, for the right price, was happy to go along.

"You don't mind do ya? I mean... it'll be pretty dangerous to go on without someone who knows the river," Shawn added after Paul had not said a word. Paul stood up from the grass and stepped into the flip-flops he had previously kicked off.

"It's a good idea Shawn. You're right, we don't want to get into trouble if the river gets too choppy," Paul offered Shawn a small smile which Shawn returned. They must have looked like complete tourists among the regulars who had flocked out with their rafts.

Paul stood there in his black T-shirt and beige shorts with flip-flops. On his head was a black baseball cap with his pony tail sticking out of the back. He had trimmed his moustache and sideburns but had kept the golden wonders. If he was going river rafting then he wanted to look like the coolest one doing it.

Shawn had gone for the white vest and opened red trucker shirt motif. The guy even wore jeans and cowboy boots because he considered the weather too cold. Too cold? Paul could have fallen out of the shower when Shawn had complained this morning it was chilly outside. He looked like a true Texan though, they were never too far too miss. He had his trademark black cowboy hat and giant belt buckle sticking out.

"Could you look anymore hick if you tried?" Paul asked.

"I was thinking of growing my beard out but somebody always complains when I try," Shawn ran a hand over his clean-shaven face.

"It's not that I don't like it... it's just that you're remarkably grey around the mouth and it feels like I'm kissing my grandfather."

"Yeah well whenever I kiss you it's like I'm kissing one of the village people," Shawn muttered.

"Gentlemen! How much experience do you have on the water?"

Shawn and Paul both turned to look at the woman they had hired to guide them on their expedition. Standing at 5'3 she did not look like much and her dainty body resembled someone more inclined for office work than river rafting. She had crossed her arms over her torso and stared at both men through her sunglasses. Paul offered a hesitant smile and raised his hand just above his shoulder like a child in school.

"I swam 250 metres once," he lowered his hand and took in the stony face of the woman. She looked to be in her late 30s, a little younger than Shawn and himself. A serious woman for serious business; Paul thought wearily. "Neither are us are that experienced mam but we are both very athletic and can swim."

"So if you fell out during a level 3 how would you react?" she snapped.

"A what?" Paul scratched his head under his hat.

"A Level 3. We approach a Level 3 – you don't particularly want to drown. Talk me through how you'd go about saving yourself."

"Listen lady, we're paying you to make sure we don't fall into any of these Level 3's as you call them. We're inexperienced, that's why we called you. Teach us the basics and what these levels mean and get us on the water." Said Shawn who had just about seen enough.

Kate scowled despite herself. She tightened the headband which tied her long blonde hair into a ponytail and then headed towards the rental shop. Paul smiled, oh this Kate was going to be a lot of fun if this kept up. Nothing said a romantic getaway like a Drill Sargent third wheel.

"She seems nice," Paul remarked playfully as she stomped into the rental shop for whatever it was you needed for boating. He nudged Shawn's shoulder with his elbow. "You sure put her in her place, Shawnie."

"Yeah well you're clearly not going to know what a Level 3 is! Honestly, that's like me putting her in a sleeper hold and asking her the best way to escape," Shawn shook his head. "It's not our deal. She either gets us on the water or we get a new guide."

"Shawn, we've not even started yet and you're talking about firing the guide you hired."

"She shouldn't be talking to you like that. We're 'newbs', as the kids say."

"She didn't offend me and I'm pretty sure I can defend myself against some dainty old woman without the help of my daring husband," Paul nudged Shawn again with his elbow. The older man glowered but said nothing. "I know you'll love this. It's you – its adventure and will get your adrenaline pumping. Hell, it might even get rid of your muffins."

"She's younger than us and you're calling her old? I'd hate to hear how you describe me to people…"

Paul grinned and wrapped an arm around his husband's shoulders like a comrade of war. Shawn glanced at Paul from the corners of his eyes, whenever Paul got like this it meant one of two things. He was going to do a speech about testing strength and companionship through love and war or he was going to say something completely offensive and then laugh it off like it was a bad joke. Shawn was braced for either.

"Shawn, an extreme vacation will not only bring us together but it will put to rest any fears we share. Hard work and sheer determination, blood and sweat mixing with the salt water and soil. Can you smell that, Shawn?" Paul exaggerated his point with a hefty sniff up into the air. "Smell it."

"I can smell it just fine like this…"

"Sniff it. Come on, give it a good hard sniff."

"Honestly Paul, I can-"

"A big sniff, clear up those sinuses and embrace the river, embrace the Canadian air!"

Shawn exhaled a sigh and decided to humour Paul by lifting his chin up into the air and loudly sniffed the air. He lowered his chin and glanced, once again, at his husband who was grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire Cat. Shawn shrugged his shoulders and said,

"I can smell it…"

"What can you smell?" Paul pressed. Shawn blinked. Your breath? Your aftershave? Stagnant water? Grass? Shawn smiled awkwardly and shrugged yet again. "Shawn, you can smell the foundations of victory. Because when we leave Canada, our marriage will not only be as solid as a rock: we'll have conquered a level 3."

Shawn rolled his eyes. "You don't even know what a level 3 is…"

"Which makes this trip all the more exciting."


Kate had arrived some time later dragging a large, navy inflatable raft behind her with two oars stored inside the boat. Shawn, who did not like to watch a lady struggle, took his place as the gentleman and ran around to the back of the raft and lifted it off the floor. They carried it between them, Paul leant against his rock with his arms crossed admiring the boat which was to become their new found friend on their voyage. Their guide dropped the boat near the water's edge and let out a sigh of relief.

"Three days on the river is no easy feat, gentlemen. I take it you have enough food and camping equipment?" Kate hopped into the raft and began to rifle through some of the zipped up black bags the rental shop had provided them with. Paul nodded his head towards numerous gym bags nearby.

"More than enough. We made a last minute trip to Walmart and picked up some essentials."

Kate nodded her head. Her arms outreached towards Paul and as if on cue, he began to hand her the bags of food and camping equipment in question for storage. Shawn stepped around the boat and towards Paul who had just finished handing Kate the final bag.

"Nervous?" Shawn asked.

"Are you?"

"Yeah."

"Good, I was worried I was going to have to pretend to be brave so you didn't think I was a pussy," Paul stepped into the raft. "Kate, what did you mean earlier by Level 3? Are they bad?"

Kate found a smile on her lemon sucking lips. The final bag had been stored and an oar was held firmly in both of her hands. She pushed it into Paul's chest who grabbed onto it with an "oaf".

"If you want to have fun on this trip then you will want to encounter Level 3s. They're moderate rapids, nothing too dangerous as long as you are experienced enough to manoeuvre which I am. You have nothing to worry about – Level 5 and up are the worrisome ones but I can assure you gentlemen: I won't be taking you through them."

"Great, that's something off of my mind. Talk me through where we're going exactly, have you brought a map?"

"Wait! You mean… Siri doesn't know?" Demanded the overtly snarky voice of Shawn. Paul rolled his eyes but said nothing to the other man.

"I don't trust those things as far as I can throw them. Give me a good old map any day. Tried and tested through hundreds of wars and hundreds of expeditions – all those years of history can't just be replaced with a Windows product" was Kate's swift response before an argument could brew.

"It's Apple and for the record I left my phone at the cabin."

"You did? I thought that thing was like your Siamese twin…"

"I imagine the reception would be dead out here and what's the point getting a $600 phone wet and ruined? The website said all rafts are fitted with radios to ranger stations so it's not like we won't be pried from civilisation."

The guide smiled. "You googled cell phones before the risk of river rafting such as the various levels? I'm glad you've got your priorities straight, Mr Levesque-Hickenbottom. Real glad. You," she nodded at Shawn. "You'll push us off from the river bank and then I'll take the control and usher around the river. River ain't too bad round here, we can just drift until we reach a small plot of land. If you're into fishing, we can catch lunch."

"What do you want me to do?" Paul asked. Kate looked him over not once but twice. Her neck craning as she took in his bulky form. He tapped the raft with her foot.

"Push the raft into the water. Once we're in just hop in and sit at the back," she grabbed a life jacket from the raft. "200 metres won't cut it, big guy. Put this on and shake a leg out if you want lunch and not dinner."

"Yes mam…" Paul muttered under his breath. He did not need to look back to see the smug grin on Shawn's face behind him. He'd known the man far too long to know he would never have missed an opportunity to revel. As requested, Paul pulled the life jacket on over his head. He picked up a second, swung round and forced the second one into Shawn's chest. Shawn stepped back from the impact, his hands clutching the lifejacket.

"Set sail Captain and try not to tip the boat with your oaring skills," Paul said softly between him and Shawn. Shawn raised an eyebrow before he pulled the life jacket down over his head.

"Sure thing Cabin Boy, try not to tip the boat when your fat ass comes flying in."

"Well that's Roger the Cabin Boy out of the question then, baby."

"We'll stick to first name and none of this weird kinky play on Captain Pugwash. Shawn, get in position. Paul, be sure you dive straight in behind Shawn when the boat hits the water. We don't want you missing the only opening Shawn will allow."

"I thought we weren't going to be using euphemisms," Shawn asked as he finished buckling up his lifejacket.

"No, we're not supposed to use innuendos," Paul replied.

"Aren't they the same thing?" he asked despite the glower Kate, their guide and the person they were entrusing their lives with, watched on. Paul smirked then placed his hand on Shawn's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"No Shawn. I would explain it to you but I've got a boat to launch."

"It's a raft!" Kate growled when she took her seat in the boat.

"A boat is something you drive on water," Shawn said proudly and took his seat behind Kate. He took the second oar from the rafts floor and clipped it through one of the two holes either side of him. Kate held the other oar over her head which Shawn took and clipped into place. Both oars in place, both firmly in his hand, he looked back at his husband.

"You don't drive a boat Shawn, you sail a boat and I didn't expect to have you both sat in the boat! I thought I was supposed to be putting it in the water."

"No, you sail a sail boat as it has no motor. You drive a speed boat."

"This hasn't got a motor! You sail this boat."

"You don't sail a boat without a mast! Maybe control?"

"Control?! For god's sake Shawn, you're lucky I don't tip this boat up and throw you in the drink."

"Well Kate said this isn't a boat anyway."

"If it sits on water then it's a boat," Paul grabbed the back of the raft and using his back and as much strength he could muster, pulled it a few inches off of the ground.

"Oh so you're saying you would call The Titanic a boat? No, that's a ship. You don't sail The Titantic." Shawn said proudly.

"No you sink it."

On that final word, Paul heaved the raft forward and felt the water pull the raft free from his fingers and all around grip. Like Kate had suggested, he seized the small window and practically dove inside of the raft as the current took the inflatable item away from dry land. Shawn, whose eyes were narrowed in determination with his hat stooped down over his brow, battled with the two oars either side of him.

The waves were fierce and strong and it felt like they did most of the controlling. They floated towards the centre, Shawn still battling with both oars as he rowed back and forth against the waves. Kate had not scolded him so he took that as a sign he was doing something right. His tongue stuck out, the waves lapped at the raft and water splashed against the bags, floor and their clothes. He would have been lying if he had said his arms didn't hurt already.

Kate turned and without a word snatched one of the oars from Shawn's hands. She forced the oar into the water and practically thrashed the river at her side. The boat steadied, the water stopped invading the insides of the boat. At last, they were floating down stream towards that plot of land (hopefully).

"You did well there, very well. The river isn't your enemy but it never hurts to put it in its place – don't be afraid to use a little force. Congratulations – you're in control of the raft."

Shawn, whose back had been tense throughout the ordeal, smiled and exhaled a breath he had been holding. His back loosened as did his grip on the oar in his left hand. His fingers which had turned white from the pressure were beginning to turn back into their rosy red. Behind him, he could hear Paul applauding.

"Well done Shawn. We'll make a sailor out of you yet," said Paul.

"Oh? Thank you…" Shawn said with a red tint in his cheeks. He turned to face his husband. "Notice how Kate said, control?"

"Oh god not this again…" their guide muttered from up front. "Keep paddling you or I'll throw you off this raft myself."

"Do as you're told," Paul said thankfully. "I'm gonna lie back here and take a nap."

"What?!" Shawn gasped.

"Yeah, do you have any idea how heavy this thing was? Combined with Kate and your extra pudding? No, you keep up the good work," Paul lent forward and placed a kiss on the pursed lips of Shawn's and then swiped the cowboy hat from his lovers head. He returned to his original position. Back pressed against the inflatable raft, Paul placed the hat on his head and pulled it down just over his eyes. "Wake me up when we hit dry land. I'm on vacation."

"You don't honestly think-"

Paul kicked off his flip-flops, one and two directly at Shawn which then bounced against his middle and back into the boat. Proudly, Paul then placed both of his bare feet on the small spare spot of Shawn's seat so his left foot was cushioned against Shawn's shirt. Shawn turned forward, his eyes sunken and his bottom lip stuck out rather childishly. Paul was in trouble when they hit dry land.