"I can't believe that you were willing to make those sacrifices, for me. Do you know what you are giving up?"
"I am not giving anything up."
"You really believe that? Are you really going to be happy, if this is our life?"
"In my life I have learned many things. One of the most important things that I have learned is that you are the only person who controls your happiness."
"You really think that you can be happy with me?"
"You do not?"
"I am asking because I don't know."
"I am happy with you. I am happy here, with this. I am more happy than I have been in a very long time."
"Why is that?"
"Because even though I am being someone else, I feel like for the first time in my life, I am being allowed to be myself. You see me for who I really am, and you're ok with it. I trust you, and I am beginning to..."
"Beginning to what?"
"To believe that Vance isn't the only one who wanted this."
"What do you mean?"
"Gibbs sees things that other people don't, or refuse to see."
"Which is what?"
She smiles, "Sometimes we are both idiots. Sometimes we make really stupid moves. Neither of us really want to open up about our feelings, to anyone. Neither of us believes in committing our whole lives to one person, because it is against human nature. Both of us have been hurt, and jaded. He sees what we never could."
"And what would that be?"
"That no matter what happens, in our lives, we are always going to need the other person. Without each other we are just halves of a pair. We keep each other balanced, in check. We remind each other that not everyone thinks like we do, and we are better people for it."
"Zi...Sarina, what are you saying, here?"
"If this is it, if I have to spend the rest of my life, married to you, I am ok with it."
"You're sure about that?"
"I am as sure of that as I am that the sky is blue."
"Good."
Her forehead wrinkles, and she squints at him, behind her glasses.
"Good?"
He wraps his arm around her waist, and pulls her in to him. He kisses her.
"What was that for?" she wonders.
"I feel the same."
"Oh," she smiles.
He kisses her again. Their lips pull away from each other. He pulls her close, his lips graze her ear. He whispers, "And we're being watched," he adds quickly.
She smiles at him devilishly. "In that case," she whispers. Her lips meet his. He follows her lead, even as her tongue slips between his lips.
Hours later he finds himself laying in a hammock, in the backyard, with her. The dog lays on the patio, asleep, in the shade.
"It's a good thing that we have a fence back here," she tells him.
"And why is that?"
"The neighbors probably don't want to see such explicit things," she warns.
"What explicit things?"
She agilely maneuvers herself. Her head moves from it's resting spot on his arm. In the blink of an eye she straddles him. He looks up at her.
"Sweet-cheeks, are you sure about this?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"You aren't afraid that we are going to tip out of the hammock?"
"I will be gentle," she teases.
"I don't believe that for a second."
With one single, swift movement she removes his belt, and tosses it aside. The hammock swings, from side to side. He tries to sit up.
"I don't know about this," he argues.
She pushes against his chest. He flies back violently. His arms fly out to his sides, as he tries to regain balance. Seconds later the rope tied to one end of the hammock snaps. They fall to the ground. He finds himself on the ground. He looks at her, but he finds that he isn't the least bit irritated. She rolls off him, onto her back. She lays in the grass, cackling. He comes off the hammock. He pins her to the ground. He smiles.
"You think that it's funny? Huh?"
She looks up at him. She continues to laugh. After several moments she catches her breath, and is able to speak. She swallows, and then answers.
"Yes, a little bit," she admits.
He rocks back, onto the soles of his feet. He pushes himself off the ground, onto his feet. He reaches down, extending a hand to her. She takes his hand, and he pulls her to her feet.
She walks towards the sliding glass door. She turns and looks at him, as he whistles for the dog.
"I think that it would be more appropriate to say don't rock the hammock, than don't rock the boat, don't you think?"
"In our case, yes, I guess so," he agrees.
He slides the door closed behind him. She looks over at the fridge, and sighs.
"Let's out for lunch," he suggests, turning around, and opening the door, to let the dog back out.
"No argument here."
"It's less work for the both of us. No cooking for you. No dishes, or trash for me."
"You do not always do the dishes, or take out the trash," she argues.
"When was the last time that you took out the trash?"
She tries to think back, she doesn't respond quickly enough.
He calls her on it, "Exactly, you don't."
"I do lots of other things."
"What other things? Aside from vacuuming, and laundry, what is there to do?"
"I do both of those things."
"We rotate on laundry. Besides most of our stuff gets dry cleaned."
"When was the last time you vacuumed?"
"The other day."
"The other day, when?"
"Tuesday."
"Tuesday?"
"When you asked me to vacuum up the dog hair."
"You vacuumed the rug in front of the couch. That is hardly the same. I vacuum the whole house."
"That is not what you asked."
"The shower needs cleaned."
"I suppose that it's my turn?"
"Yes," she nods.
"How do I know?"
She points to the calendar on the wall, "We wrote it down, remember?"
"I hate when I have brilliant ideas, that hold me accountable, because you never let me wriggle out of things."
"You certainly wriggled out of that hammock."
"For the record, you are the one who broke the hammock."
She tosses him the keys, and opens the door to the garage.
"I think that was a joint effort," she quarrels.
"You are the one who always wants sex," he disagrees.
"Me? You woke me up out of a dead sleep the other night."
"That was different," he climbs into the car.
"How?" she presses the garage door opener attached to her visor.
"I knew that if I let you sleep until five that you would have slept for nine hours, and if I let that happen, I knew how cranky you would be. I had to do something to keep you awake for a little while."
"Most people are cranky if they don't get enough sleep."
"When have you ever been most people?" he retorts as he backs the car out of the garage.