"So this is a date, right?" Raven asked, rolling over onto her stomach. Her elbow knocked against Clarke's knee as she propped her head up in her hands to watch Abby get ready. Abby nodded from the closet, deciding between two shirts. Raven and Clarke looked at each other and smiled, but when Abby walked out a few minutes later in hiking pants and a long sleeve shirt with her boots in hand, the smiles faltered.

"I think you're mistaking the days, Mom," Clarke said, staring at the boots.

Abby gave her a pointed look before sitting down on the bench at the end of her bed to put on her boots. They both knew the plan, Marcus had called that morning as they were headed to breakfast. She was picking him up at two o'clock; he had decided in the night that he wanted to show her one of his favorite places. The girls had thought it was romantic all during their meal, it seemed they were having second doubts now.

"So he's dragging you away from us on Mother's Day?" Raven asked, glancing at Clarke. "Was he really that good of a kisser?"

Abby didn't let the comment phase her — she kept tightening the laces of her boots as she replied, "You guys said it was okay. And you're not even my kid, Raven."

Raven's hand flew to her chest as Clarke fought a laugh. "That hurts, Abby. I thought we were close."

Abby smiled and leaned up. "I wouldn't have let you pay for half of breakfast if I didn't like you."

"An honor, to dole out money for you," Raven replied, smiling.

Abby knew Raven's mother meant nothing to her, a drunk who cast her daughter aside in favor of alcohol. Everything Raven had, she obtained on her own. She had graduated high school a year early and finished her associates degree in a year and a half. Abby was tremendously proud of her and honored that Raven thought of her as a surrogate mother.

Abby smiled as she stood up. The girls followed her out of the room and down the stairs. She grabbed her purse from the hook and paused at the door, her hand on the doorknob. She looked at the two girls behind her and asked, "Are you sure it's okay that I go?"

Clarke smiled and said, "It's fine. Raven and I are just going to watch movies all day."

"But—"

"Get the hell out of here, Mom," Clarke said, pushing her lightly out the door. Abby smiled as the door shut behind her and she walked to her car.

She was at Marcus' door in five minutes. She took a step back when the door opened to reveal Bellamy Blake. He was sweaty and looked worn out, but it didn't stop him from looking Abby up and down and asking, "He really talking you into this?"

Abby nodded and Bellamy's eyebrow quirked up like he was questioning her sanity. But, he stepped aside and allowed her access to the house. He said, "He's in the kitchen."

"Thank you," Abby said before she headed through the house. She heard Bellamy's footsteps on the stairs as she entered the kitchen, thinking this interaction was a vast improvement on their last one.

Marcus was packing something into a backpack when she turned the corner. He zipped it and looked up at her, an easy smile spreading on his face. "Hey. How was the rest of your night?"

"Less eventful once I left here."

His eyes searched hers for a moment and he opened his mouth, a question on his lips, but Bellamy yelled from upstairs, "Are there any clean towels, Dad?"

Marcus rolled his eyes and called back, "Try the laundry, Bell."

Abby pursed her lips, hiding the smile that wanted desperately to show itself. Her eyes met Marcus' again and she smiled anyway. She asked, "Are you ready to go?"

He nodded and slung the backpack over his good shoulder. He led the way toward the door and Abby trailed, looking over the room again. It was the same as last time, just as white and sparsely decorated. The one picture on the wall caught her eye and she stared at it as she followed him to the door.

It was a painting of various Washington D.C. landmarks: the Lincoln Memorial, the National Mall, the Washington Monument, the White House, even several war memorials. Reluctantly, Abby snapped her gaze from it and walked through the door after Marcus.

"I've never seen that painting before," she commented as he shut the door behind them. She had been to too many art galleries in various cities with Clarke but the one in his living room was a mystery.

He glanced at her and nodded before walking toward her car in the driveway. "You wouldn't have. Octavia's boyfriend painted it, he's extremely talented. Lincoln's from D.C."

Abby smiled. "And you hung up his painting?"

"I like the kid," he said with a shrug. "It's a good painting."

"You're a constant surprise," she muttered before opening her door and climbing into the car. He was grinning when he slid into his seat and set the backpack on the floor between his legs. She started the car and backed it out of the driveway as she asked, "Where am I going?"

He smiled and replied, "Take I-84 East, I'll let you know more when we get closer."

She nodded and felt her pulse rise, the excitement coursing through her. It was clear he wanted their destination to be as much of a surprise as it could be when he wasn't the one driving, so she didn't question him. It was in his favor that she hadn't ventured out of the city to the east very much since moving to Portland.

They were on the interstate five minutes later and she asked, "How did Octavia meet Lincoln?"

"They work together at the Woods' ranch, just south of Portland." He explained, turning in the seat so he could look at her. "Titus is an old family friend and Octavia's been working at the ranch since she came to live with me. Lincoln knew Titus' daughter Lexa from school, so he was helping out at the ranch."

Abby nodded and kept her eyes on the road, letting the music from the radio fill the car. He was fine with the silence, she too found it wasn't uncomfortable. After a while, he asked, "How's Clarke?"

She smiled, glancing his way as she replied, "She's okay, stressed about finals coming up."

"And her date with Wells? How did that go?" He had turned in his seat again to face her as much as he could. He was giving her his full attention and she found it an endearing quality. She was surprised he was taking an interest in Clarke, wondering if it was just an act.

"It went well," she said slowly. He smiled and kept his eyes on her as she tried to recall what Clarke had said about the date over breakfast that morning. "She seems to really like him."

"You really want the mayor as an in-law?" He joked, a grin on his face. She rolled her eyes and replied, "He's not that bad."

"I've just seen his posters," he said with a shrug.

They descended into silence again and he reach out to fiddle with the radio station, but his hand paused halfway there. He glanced at her as if asking for permission and she nodded her assent. He smiled to himself and changed the station to what seemed to be his favorite. David Bowie's "Space Oddity" played through the speakers and Abby saw Marcus relax into a state of what she would call serenity in the passenger seat. She had never expected this side of him, but she liked it. She could see him tapping his fingers lightly against his leg to the beat of the song, a small smile on his face.

As the song changed to Kansas' "Carry on Wayward Son," Marcus said quietly, "I'm sorry for taking you from Clarke."

Abby glanced his way and found him frowning at the dashboard. She nudged his arm with her hand to make him look at her. "It's okay, really. We normally just do breakfast. It's tradition."

He smiled slowly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I was worried all morning."

"There was no need for that," she said, reaching over again to pat his hand. As she pulled back, he caught her hand in his and laced their fingers together, holding her there. She smiled at him and asked, "Did you at least get Vera something?"

"She doesn't like gifts, so I normally do something big around the house. But Bellamy had to do that this year." He frowned at his sling before meeting her eyes again. "And I always bake her cupcakes, I've done it since I was a kid."

"You bake?" She asked, eyebrow raising on its own volition.

"There's more to me than just camping and beer, Abby," he said with a grin. She looked him up and down, wanting to know what else there was to him. "Did Clarke get you anything?"

"I'm sure you'll see it at some point," she said absently. His eyebrow was raised when she looked his way again and she suddenly realized how it must have sounded. "Oh! She painted me something."

He was still grinning as she looked out the windshield, embarrassed. She was just glad he didn't ask about Raven's gift. A blush crept up her neck at the thought of it. If he noticed, he didn't comment on it. She enjoyed that quality about him, he was very respectful, taking great care not to embarrass her.

Fifteen minutes later, he said quietly, "Take US-30 at Mosier."

They arrived ten minutes later, Abby pulled the car against the side of the road and cut the engine. Marcus climbed out and slung the backpack over his good shoulder, pulling one part of the chest strap under his hanging arm. Abby shut her door and walked to him, taking the two straps from him and attaching them. He smiled at her and said, "Thanks."

She leaned up on her tiptoes, her hands still on his chest, and pressed a light kiss to his lips. When she pulled back, he looked stunned, trying to blink it away. She smiled and started toward the trail, passing a sign that read Rowena Crest. He seemed to have regained his consciousness because he was at her side a few seconds later, keeping pace with her as they started on the McCall Point Trail.

It wasn't until the grass gave way to the wildflowers that she realized why he liked this place so much. It was wildly unremarkable until she saw the first cluster of white. Marcus leaned close to her and said, "That's yarrow; it's said to be a cure for heartache."

Abby looked at him, her mouth opened slightly. He didn't see her, he was busy scanning the field. He stopped suddenly and said, "That's balsam." He was pointing at the many yellow flowers surrounding this part of the trail. "It means impatience."

Abby smiled and commented, "And I thought your mother was the flower expert."

He replied, "I may have grown up with a few dozen books on the subject."

They took off again and Abby laced their fingers together. He glanced down at their hands and she saw the smile spread on his face. His eyes met hers and the smile faltered, embarrassed that he had been caught doing it. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand. He looked forward again and she saw that the smile had returned.

The incline increased and they weren't able to talk for a few minutes until it evened out again and they could catch their breaths. When it did, Marcus pointed their joined hands at the bushes of red flowers amongst the sea of yellow. "Indian paintbrush; you can actually eat the flower, if you really wanted too."

"And why would you want to?" She asked as he lowered their hands.

He shrugged and said, "It has some health benefits, I'm sure. Various Native American tribes used it to treat burns and stings or to boost the immune system, others used it to treat STDs and rheumatism."

"Resourceful," she commented, pulling them to a stop to examine the nearest bush.

"The roots are poisonous," he said as she reached out to touch it. Her hand pulled back quickly and she glared at him when she heard him laughing quietly. "Only if eaten in large amounts."

"You ass," she said as she stood. Abby swatted his good shoulder before she took off on the trail again. He caught up with her and took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together again.

They reached McCall Point after another mile of walking and Marcus walked toward a tree while Abby continued along the plateau. He plopped unceremoniously on the ground and she took in the sights: the Columbia River to the north, the field of wildflowers they were in, Mount Adams in the distance. But the real beauty lay to the southwest, where — across a sea of trees — Mount Hood rose. Abby stood there, marveling at the stark white against the blue above and green below. Abby turned, mouth open to ask him how far away Mount Hood was, but her mouth shut when her eyes found what was waiting for her.

Marcus sat on the ground, leaning his left shoulder against the trunk of the tree, a blanket spread out under him. He had pulled out sandwiches and fruit from the backpack and set them on the blanket. Abby's eyes were wide when his met hers and she blinked a few times before she walked over to him. He patted the ground next to him and she smiled, sitting down. She commented, "I really didn't expect all of this."

"Like you said, I'm a constant surprise," he said with a grin.

He really was, Abby was beginning to find. They talked quietly as they ate, watching the water move on the river. Abby found that the date was a lot like him: no frills, just perfect. She blushed at the thought, thankful that he was looking out over the plateau at the Gorge. She didn't know what it was about him that made her feel so comfortable.

She wanted to know what was going on in his head as he bit into that apple, watching the water. He looked so at peace and she didn't understand how this man had been in the army yet knew so much about flowers, how he could be cold at times yet take in two children who had no where else to go. It was like he was an enigma and she just couldn't crack his code. There was something about…

"You're staring," he muttered, cutting through her thoughts. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and she lowered her gaze to the blanket. He put the apple in his restrained hand and reached over with his good arm, taking her hand lightly in his. He said with a smile, "Don't worry, it takes a lot to offend me."

She raised her eyes to meet his and he squeezed her hand. She did the only thing she could think of: she leaned over and kissed him full on the lips, tasting apple. He let out a surprised gasp as her lips adjusted on his and she leaned closer, holding his hand tightly in hers while the other rose and danced along the skin of his neck with featherlight touches.

His eyes searched hers when she finally pulled away. Quietly, he asked, "What was that for?"

Abby shrugged, running her fingers absently along his neck. "This is nice. I don't really know what I expected, but you certainly surpassed it."

He smiled and leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers again. He murmured against them, "I'm glad."

They stayed on the plateau for nearly another hour, resting against the tree trunk, watching the birds take flight. He pulled out a cupcake for her and Abby listened to him talk about Bellamy and Octavia, about how proud he was of how far they had come in the past eight years, as she ate it. After, Abby talked about Clarke and how she was adjusting to life in Portland. She was still amazed at how attentive he was while she spoke: leaning close, gaze unwavering.

Reluctantly, as the sun made its journey westward, they pushed themselves to their feet and packed up. Abby secured the backpack for Marcus again and took his hand as they started back down the path. They walked in comfortable silence, listening to the birds chirp in the trees.

"What's this one?" Abby asked, pulling him to a stop to examine a singular purple flower amongst balsam. She wanted to touch it, but thought she should refrain. The four petals were nearly transparent and a light purple, lavender she thought.

"Opium poppy," he said, crouching next to her. He gently ran his finger along one of the petals as he said, "It is pretty rare for the area."

"It's beautiful," she commented, reaching out and touching the petal like he had. He smiled as he watched her feel the soft petal. She looked at him and asked, "What's your favorite?"

He grinned as he rose to his feet, offering her his hand. She took it and rose to stand, letting him lead her down the trail again. He answered, "That's a loaded question. You don't grow up with Vera as your mother and have only one favorite flower. But, here, I like the California poppy. We will likely see some, they are orange with four petals. I also like the Columbian lily, but I rarely see that one here, certainly not at this time of year. It's a shame, I think you would like that one."

She smiled at him and said quietly, "We'll just have to come back when they're in bloom."


The sun was setting as they exited the highway, returning to Portland. Marcus still held her hand in his as he stared out the window. He ran his thumb gently over the back of it, listening to the same classic rock station from earlier.

He said over the quiet music, "I'd hate to take up more of your day, but I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie."

She smiled at the casual tone he used, as if he didn't care how she answered. But the way the muscles in his hand tensed as he waited, she knew he wanted nothing more than for this date to never end. She replied, "I'd love to."

He exhaled quietly and she knew she wasn't meant to hear it. She smiled to herself as she drove to his house and parked against the curb. She followed him to the front door and he fumbled with the keys in his left hand. She took them gently from him and unlocked the door.

Music trickled down from the second floor and Marcus led her straight to the front tv room. She sat down on the couch in front of the window and watched him draw both sets of French doors closed, effectively shutting them off from the rest of the house. She smiled at him as he walked to the couch and closed the curtains behind it before sitting next to her.

He let her pick and she settled on one of her favorites, The Princess Bride, surprised when he said he actually liked the movie — apparently it was one of Octavia's favorites though she would never admit it. They settled against each other as it started, Abby leaning against his side, Marcus' arm wrapped around her shoulders.

The movie was halfway over when one of the doors opened and Bellamy walked in. Marcus frowned and said, "A closed door usually means 'keep out.' What do you think two sets of closed doors means, Bell?"

Abby blushed but Bellamy didn't let his father's comment bother him. He held Abby's phone in her hand and she perked up against Marcus as Bellamy said, "This was ringing out of control. Someone called Langston really needs to talk to you."

"You answered her phone?" Marcus groaned, letting his head fall against the back of the couch as he pulled his arm away from Abby to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Abby held out her hand for the phone and paused the movie as she raised it to her ear. Marcus told Bellamy to shut the door behind him as Abby asked, "What's going on, Calvin?"

"I just got word that there's a kidney for your patient, Ontari Eisold," the transplant surgeon said. "I've already contacted her and she's on her way to the hospital."

Abby sighed and replied, "I'll be right there."

"I'm sorry to interrupt your Mother's Day, Abby," Langston said and she could tell he was truly apologetic. "I'll see you soon."

Abby hung up and looked at Marcus. He was frowning as he met her eyes. "You have to go?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry. I have a transplant to oversee. The patient's only twenty-four."

"Go."

Abby leaned over and kissed him, it was gentle at first but Marcus' arm wrapped around her and pulled her closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck, running a hand through his hair as she slipped her tongue into his mouth. He met it with his and she felt lightheaded as the kiss intensified. Marcus held her flush against him, his hand high on her back.

She was the one to pull away and rested her forehead against his. She whispered, "I'll call you, okay?"

He nodded, capturing her lips once more in a quick kiss. Abby didn't want to leave, so content in the moment, lost to the feeling of his body against hers. But, she forced herself to her feet after another kiss and headed to the hospital.


I apologize again for the delay in updating. Hopefully this is the last long break between chapters because I've accepted a position at a school in Korea, so that stress is over.

As usual, reviews are always welcomed and appreciated! :)

-Lauren