Author's note: Well, y'all, I was going to make you wait a bit longer for this next chapter because I do love a good cliffhanger, but … just like Jim, I am SOOOOOO changeable. So here it is. Standard thanks to those responsible. Today being Halloween, I want to give a special shout out to the Ancient Celts of Scotland and Ireland for establishing the basis of what we currently know as Halloween. It's an interesting story. Oh, Ireland, first you give us Halloween, then potatoes, now Andrew Scott. Does your giving know no limit? Review and enjoy!

Chapter 11

"I love you, Heather. You are the most amazing person I know," exclaimed Sebastian.

"Oh, Bash, I love you too. I have loved you since the first day we met! Even though you were a total prat to me, I still loved you." Heather smiled and hugged him as tight as she possibly could. "So, you're not mad at me?"

"Kitten, I'm not mad at you. I'm thrilled. This is so amazing! I don't know why I wait-," breathed Sebastian.

"I'm so glad you're okay with me and Jim. I know it's going so fast, but this feels so right. I mean, if you hadn't been okay, if you said that you wanted me to break it off, I totally would have. I was dead serious about that. I would have been crazy bummed because oh my God in heaven above and Satan below, can that man kiss, but for you, it would have been over in less than a heartbeat. I mean, dude, seriously, it's like monsoon season in my lower 48, but for you, anything. Bash, … I actually gave him my underwear the last time I went to the bathroom! Who does that? Not me! But I did! And this is my good underwear. The stuff I get from Frederick's of Hollywood, not the granny panties I normally wear from Target. The lacy, slutty, $100 a piece stuff. But, anyway, back to my point. Honey, you will always be my Bash-Bash. Our friendship means the world to me. I know I've said it before, but I just know that you and Brian would have gotten along SO great if you had met him when he was alive. You guys would have been best friends. We would have been the Three Musketeers, but better! Oh, God, Bash, you have no idea how happy you've made me. Later, you have to give me the lowdown on Jim. I want to know everything. Childhood, siblings, favorite color, weirdest quirk, secret talent, oh, any funny pictures I have to see. Everything! But, first … first we are going to see your favorite thing here. Even though it terrifies me. I insist! Yup, we are going to tour the Torsk! I'll even let you do all the talking. I know it's your favorite sub and you know everything about it. Are you excited," Heather smiled expectedly at her friend.

Sebastian swallowed his sadness like a bitter pill. He could see that Heather was absolutely glowing with excitement. Only it wasn't just excitement. The morning sun reflected off her coppery hair, creating an almost halo-like appearance around her. The gray t-shirt fit her curves perfectly, as did the skin-tight jeans. Unlike many former military contractors, she had maintained the muscular definition and healthy body proportions she had while overseas. Her porcelain skin was flawless, except for a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, belying her age. The little make-up she did wear accented her natural features perfectly. Her wide smile caused the dimples in her cheeks to deepen and was offset by her delicate chin. He had met her mom and sisters and knew based on that some of her beauty was genetic, but none of them could compare to Heather's easy allure.

"Bash, are you excited? You do want to go to the sub, right? If you don't want to, it's okay. I just know that you always really liked it before." Heather placed her hand on Sebastian's bicep. "We can do whatever you want next since Jim picked the Aquarium. It's your turn to pick. I want to pick dinner, though. I want to go to Dave & Buster's. I haven't been in a long time and I'm kinda excited to show Jim my favorite restaurant. Do you think he'll like it? I know it's kind of goofy there, but I thought it might be fun to challenge him to some games. You can devastate him with your mad skee-ball skills. What do ya say? A little skee-ball and steak? You, me, and the Jim-ster?" Heather had decided after their talk to abandon the plan she had hatched in the car. The timing just felt off somehow.

Sebastian plastered a grin on his face. "Yeah, absolutely. Skee-ball sounds awesome. I don't think Jim's ever played it, so we're going to annihilate him. And yeah, you're right. I do love that old sub. But are you sure you're going to be okay? I mean, your claustrophobia is pretty bad, and you know how tight that ship is. I don't want to do anything that's going to hurt you."

"Well, as long as you don't tell that one story about the guy and the torpedo shoot, I'll survive. After all, I've got two big, strapping fellas to keep me safe. But … you … you do remember what to do if my anxiety gets too bad, right? The breathing thing in the field. You'll lead me through that right? Because it really does help a lot. I mean … I try to be brave but … the space is so tight … and I can't breathe … and I'm so scared that we're going run out of oxygen … and all of those people are down there and they're … all breathing SO much of the precious oxygen and … and … and … what if someone shuts the lid on the boat … and we're trapped inside … and there's not enough air and …" Heather felt herself start to panic. She started to shake and hyperventilate even there in the open courtyard.

"Heather … breathe … in … and out … in … and out. It's okay. Close your eyes. You're in a wide-open meadow surrounded by flowers. There's a babbling brook off to your right. Do you hear it? Just keep breathing. In … and out … in … and out. There you go. There's lots of air here. It's a bright sunny day. There's plenty of air. The trees just keep pumping it out nonstop. Breathe in … and out … in … and out. So much air. Everywhere. Lots and lots of air. Other than the trees and the flowers and the brook, there's nothing for miles around. Now turn around. I'm standing right behind you. I'm putting my arms around your waist, but you still have plenty of air to breathe. Your lungs can expand all the way, taking in more air than you can possibly use. Can you feel all of the air filling your chest? So much air. Do you see the beautiful sunflowers over there to our left? The farmer really grew a bumper crop this year, didn't he? Do you want to go pick some? Let's go pick some. They look so pretty. You're totally safe here. Take my hand as we walk over to the flowers. We're both breathing no problem. These flowers are going to look so pretty in the kitchen, aren't they? There you go. Just breathe. Nice and slow. You're doing great." By this time, Jim had shown up and was watching his second in command with a quizzical look on his face. Sebastian held up a hand and then a finger to him. Jim stood back and nodded twice. "Kitten, are you doing okay now. Your breathing has slowed down some. Do you want to open your eyes now? Jim's here and he looks a little worried. Can I tell him what's going on?"

Heather opened her eyes, looked at Jim, and started crying. "Jim, I'm sorry. I … I." Her pulse started to race again, and she felt so ashamed. "Bash, I need to go sit down for a minute. Can you …" she indicated towards Jim.

Sebastian guided her over to the closest bench and walked back to Jim. "Jim, Heather started to have a panic attack. I got her calmed down, but … God, she's going to kill me for telling you this but … Jim, she likes you. She likes you a lot. I've never seen her act like this over a guy. She's normally very collected and cool, but she likes you and I think she's afraid that if you see her … I don't know … not perfect, you're going to leave her. I know that she's secretly afraid of people thinking she's a weirdo and abandoning her. Her parents … to be honest, her parents are a lot like mine. Yours too. They weren't good to her growing up and now she's terrified of not projecting a perfect image for everyone. In her family, image was everything. All that mattered to her da was that everything looked perfect from the outside. Reality be damned. Feelings didn't matter. Only image. Only what everyone else thought. Now she has this crazy pathological need to look perfect always, no matter what, but it makes her feel like shit when she can't be real. They really fucked her up. I can't stand those people and tried to get her to cut them off for her own well-being, but, the ever-loving optimist that she is, refuses to believe that there isn't some kernel of goodness in them that if she just tries hard enough, she will eventually please them. That is her greatest wish in life. To hear that bastard of a father of hers to finally say that he is proud of her. I can't convince her that he will never do that because he's just a complete asshole who probably doesn't know what love is, but she's convinced that she will eventually do something that will earn his love and respect. It makes me so angry that I have thought of picking him off, but I know that I can't because it would ruin her, and I can't be the one to do that to her. I won't be the one to do that to her! Anyway, we were talking about what we should do after this and she suggested touring this submarine here that she knows I love. She has super bad claustrophobia and just thinking about going in there sent her into a panic attack. I don't want to go if just thinking about does that to her, but she knows how much I love it and won't take no for an answer. Again, just another example of how she cares way too damn much about making other people happy, even when it makes her physically sick. I got her calmed down, but then she saw you see her weak and you saw what happened."

Jim bit his bottom lip, processing everything he had just heard. "That WAS a lot, Sebastian. Thank you." He walked over to Heather who was wiping away tears from her face. He handed her his handkerchief. He took a deep breath and sat down next to her. Staring off into the distance, he said, "I just do not know what to do with you, Heather." He sighed again. He turned towards her and lifted her chin, "Get this through your thick red-headed skull once and for all. I AM NOT LEAVING YOU! I don't like to repeat myself, so I will not say this again. You are perfectly imperfect, and I love it. I love you. I fucking love you. God help me, I love you. I don't love anyone, not even myself, but I fucking love you. I don't know how you did it. Jim Moriarty doesn't love. No one gets to me. No one! But you did! I love that you are crazy and neurotic and smart-mouthed and babble. I love that you are willing to go do something that terrifies you so much that you have a panic attack just thinking about it because it is something your friend likes. I love that you opened your home to a man with a strong reputation of killing people first and never asking questions second. And from over the phone, no less. I love that you knew me for 10 minutes and yet spent twice as long challenging me over a seatbelt. No one challenges me. Not even Moran, but you … you do! And over a seatbelt! How much clearer do I have to be? You're so concerned about impressing me that you can't see that I'm not only impressed, I'm obsessed. You own me. God, you are the most maddening woman on Earth. I just do NOT know what to do with you! What do you want from me? What? Tell me and it's yours! GOD!"

"You can start by stop yelling at me. You're not exactly a glass box of openness, Jim. How the hell am I supposed to know that you love me? You don't think I researched you at least a little? Sebastian talks about you once in a while. Over the years, I've developed kind of a picture of who you are. And it ain't exactly a picture of Mr. Motherfucking Rogers over here, buddy! Sebastian kinda painted you as a cold, hard sonofabitch who's not exactly in touch with his inner child. Today, we have almost had sex twice and I haven't exactly heard any Shakespearian sonnets of love and devotion outta your mouth. I thought I was gonna get some cheap, but toe-curling orgasms and be tossed to the curb. Bash makes your relationships with women sound like they end either in murder or a fling of cash and a security escort out the door. I was hoping for best case scenario, a curt "wham, bam, thank ya mam" when you two left the country. I was hoping you wouldn't kill me. That would be the height of rudeness, considering. For what it's worth, I love you too. There, I said it. I love you. And I'm not just saying it because you did. Ask Sebastian. I said it to him just a few minutes ago. About you. Even though I knew it was stupid and pointless and dangerous. But, yeah, I love you! I don't know why! I just do! I don't do this shit! The last man I fell in love with at first sight died two days after we got married. He fucking died! Dead! Boom! A building fell on him. A building that he wasn't even supposed to be in. We were going to leave for our honeymoon later that day. I was only working a few hours in the morning to see some clinic patients. He was supposed to be off work. Safe at home! Playing video games! Neglecting his share of the thank you notes that should have been written! Getting horny thinking about me! Eating his ridiculously sugary cereal with way too much milk, drinking a soda with breakfast instead of something sensible like coffee or tea or juice! But no, I had allowed him to cover a couple hours at work for a friend and then he DIED! Who the fuck dies not even 48 hours after they get married? After standing up in front of their friends and family and God himself and swearing, promising, vowing, to live a long life with the person standing across from them. We were supposed to grow old and toothless and senile together! Surrounded by acres of children, and grandchildren, and great grandchildren, and dogs, and roosters, and everything! That's why I don't do this shit! Because MEN LEAVE! They leave when you love them! So how am I supposed to know that you won't leave me? Huh? How Jim? How do I know that you won't leave me like he did? Answer me that, Mr. High and Mighty Consulting Criminal! Mr. Fix-It-All! Answer me that!" Heather broke down and started crying again.

Sebastian came running over when Jim started yelling. He stood behind Heather with a terrified look on his face. He heard Heather's response. She had never told him all of that, even after all these years. No wonder she was so scared all the time. She had once told him that she loved Afghanistan because "it made sense." He finally understood what she meant. Compared to everything she still felt about Brian's death, of course the war zone made sense. There was order. There was cause and effect. A bomb goes off and you will see certain specific injuries. You see those injuries, you do certain specific things to fix it. Was this why she chose trauma surgery? Did she find the same kind of sense in the mangled bodies she dealt with on a daily basis? Sebastian caught Jim's eye after Heather's tirade. He raised his eyebrow towards his boss.

Jim turned back to Heather and put his arm back around her. "I can't promise you that something won't happen to me or even Sebby. You're right. I might have to leave before you are ready to let me go. But Kitten, I'm here now. That's all I can guarantee you. I'm sorry if that's not enough. But it's all I can give you. I can give you right now. But, no matter what happens, always remember, I love you. I love you and I want to see where this takes us. Can we do that," responded the Irishman quietly.

"Okay, … um Jim,"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Can I have a hug? I feel really vulnerable right now. Not a sexy hug, just a loving hug," sniffed Heather.

"Always, my princess."

"Um, Jim … can I give Bashie a hug too? Then we can go to the sub. I did promise him that we would go."

Sebastian piped up, "Heather, I don't want to go to the sub today. You already had one panic attack today and now you're kind of upset. I don't want to stress you out anymore. It's okay, really. We can go somewhere else. Do you want to go shopping?" He gave a Heather a hug and rubbed her back reassuringly.

"No, honey, I promised you we would go. I'll be okay. Plus, Jim's never been, and you would be the perfect tour guide for him. I heard they added some new plaques inside. Let's go. C'mon." She grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the walkway.

Sebastian shot Jim a look. Jim threw his hands up in the air and followed the duo.

"Jim, come up here with us. Take my other hand." The threesome made their way around the crowded thoroughfare and over to the World War II era submarine. Heather bought the tickets and brought them back to the guys. "Okay, you guys ready? Let's go."

They climbed aboard the sub, Sebastian in the front, Heather in the middle, and Jim bringing up the rear. Heather reached back to hold Jim's hand, while Sebastian reached back to grab hers. When Jim realized Sebastian was holding Heather's hand, he dropped her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He whispered into her ear, "Are you okay? If you get scared, just let me know. I'm right here behind you. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise." Heather smiled and rubbed his hand. She stopped and leaned back against his chest. "Thanks baby."

Sebastian led them through the naval vessel like it was his own, frequently stopping to point out various details of the craft's workmanship or finer points of sea-faring life. Heather's anxiety level remained high, but knowing that she was sandwiched between her two favorite guys helped to keep it at a manageable level. Still, she was quite relieved to exit the tight vessel 45minutes later. "Ok, well, the tickets I bought allow us to see one more boat. Here's a list of the ones open today. Jim, why don't you pick the second one."

"How about the USS Constellation? It looks like the closest one and it's not a sub, so we're good there."

"Oh, I don't think I've been to that one. Sound good, Bash?"

"Sure, let's go."

Jim took Heather's hand and, behind her back, flashed Sebastian a look of "give us space." Sebastian waited until the two were a good 10 steps ahead of him before following.

"Oh, Jim, should we wait for Bash? I don't want to lose him."

"Nah, he's good at keeping track of people in crowds. Besides, I want some time alone with you. How are feeling after touring the submarine? Breathing ok? Do you need to sit down for a minute? You handled really well."

"Still a little tiny bit shaky inside, but it really helped having you there. And Bash. Thanks for everything today. I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier."

"Well, on the upside, at least we got our first fight done and over with. And we both survived! Not many people survive a fight with me. I can't imagine many survive one with you, either." Heather smiled.

"No, you're right about that. My temper doesn't show very often, but it is quite blistering when it does. It's the Irish in me, I suppose."

"I'd like to put about 9 more inches of Irish in you," thought Jim to himself. "Yeah, you're probably right. We Irish are certainly known for our tempers," said Jim. "Ah, here we are at the USS Constellation, I believe.

"Jim, I changed my mind about the plan I mentioned in the car. After everything today, it doesn't feel like the right thing to do right now. Some things have changed, and I need to reassess how to move forward. Don't worry, though. We are still on for sex tonight. I'm actually a bit more eager now than I was before. Ew, I just realized. I don't have any condoms at home. It's been a bit of a dry spell lately and I'm out. You don't happen to have any, do you?"

"I can honestly say that when I packed for this trip, sex was the last thing on my mind, so no. What do you want to do?"

"Well, um … I know that I'm clean and I can't get pregnant, so … um … can you say the … same about yourself or … do we need to … ya know … make a stop somewhere?"

Jim chuckled, "I'm clean too and pretty sure I can't get pregnant either so it's up to you. Do you want to make a stop, or should we go free and clear?"

Heather's inner voice screamed at her, "Don't be stupid, Weire! What do you always say? "No glove, no love.' Well … winter's coming and your hands are bare. This is a no-brainer." Heather stared into those deep chocolate eyes and threw caution to the wind. "I want to feel all of you, Mr. Moriarty. Every last bit. We're good without," she purred in a husky voice.

"Brilliant. I was hoping that was what you picked. Get ready for a wild ride, cowgirl! Oh, look, here comes Moran, right on time." Jim ground his teeth and rolled his eyes. "That man is a walking cockblock today. I'm going to have to send him far away when we get back," thought Jim.