AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey, guys! Double update! Hope to hear your thoughts. But if not, thank you for reading :)

Xxxxx

Street lights shone overhead as Vaughn hurriedly walked up the city sidewalk, the brunette farmer in tow and holding on to the bend of his arm with one hand and shopping bags in the other. She struggled to keep up with his long strides and sobbed, still shaken by the night's events. Missing the boat, the fear of having nowhere to sleep, then the attack. The silver-haired cowboy looked uncharacteristically panicked as Chelsea broke down.

"Hey, you're okay." he assured her as her fingers tightened on him. "We're almost there. Chelsea-"

Chelsea's trembling worsened and she stumbled, Vaughn ensuring she didn't fall. He took the shopping bags from her and picked her up.

"Pardon." he apologized, unceremoniously hoisting her up like she weighed nothing. "You ain't exactly doing well."

"I'm so sorry, Vaughn. I'm so sorry you have to see me this way." She blubbered, clutching at him. "That man was going to rape me. I couldn't fight him off. If you hadn't been walking by..."

Chelsea broke down again. Normally one to avoid any emotional fuss, Vaughn's initial instinct was to cringe. Respecting the farmer's traumatic ordeal however, he kept his tone calm and level. His gruff voice wasn't naturally soothing at all, but his promise that they were almost at his house helped to contain her frantic sobbing. She wanted to be off the street. She'd had enough.

"I shouldn't have come here."

"This city's nice, but sailors are a rough bunch no matter where you go." the man assured her, boots clicking the pavement with his hustle. "I can't fucking stand them. Hope that piece of shit by the dock doesn't wake up."

Onlookers on the street were alarmed as the muscular cowboy walked along with a sobbing woman in his arms. The drawn attention was the last thing he wanted. Not that he cared what people thought about him, but Chelsea hid her wet face in his shirt, embarrassed. For a good five minutes she refused to look up from his cologne spritzed shirt.

His apartment building couldn't come in to the view fast enough. Vaughn approached the tall building at a more relaxed pace though, careful to not make the situation look elevator was out of order that week so the cowboy took the stairs, unhesitant. He climbed a couple sets of stairs, grateful no one else was coming down the stairwell. Vaughn carefully put her down on to her feet in the hallway and fished for his keys.

"It ain't much, but make yourself comfortable." he told her, opening the door. "Go on. Get inside."

"T-Thank you."

Vaughn bolted the apartment door behind them, and Chelsea took her first calmed breath. It was shaking, but the sobbing ceased as her panic was left out on the dark, open streets. Gently setting her bags down, Vaughn peered up at Chelsea as she wiped at her tear-stained cheeks. Coming back to stand at his full height, he gestured towards his black sofa.

"Do you want to sit down?"

Chelsea went to sit, gathering herself together. The bridge of her nose was pink, as were her cheeks from crying. Vaughn took a glass from his cupboard and Chelsea heard Vaughn pouring a drink. She didn't know it was for her.

"Sweet tea." he explained, handing her the glass. "It's how Ma makes it...she don't kill it with sugar but if you want it sweeter I can do that. There's sugar in the kitchen."

Vaughn's mother's recipe for sweet tea was mildly sweet. Just enough sugar to dull the bitter taste without totally killing it. And hints of honey. Chelsea took an appreciative sip, shaking her head.

"This is fine."

"Alright, good. That's...good. Are you good?"

"Mhm."

Hands rattling just slightly, Chelsea drank, wetting her throat that she just realized was sore. Thankfully, there was honey in the tea to help with that. Vaughn took off his hat and placed it on the coffee table in front of the sofa, dumbstruck at the situation on hand. He took a seat on the sofa next to her, ensuring the was space between them.

"I take the first morning ferry to the island...Usually." Vaughn was sure to clarify. "But, there's no live cargo heading that way tomorrow. I can take you back whenever you're ready."

"We can go early if that's what you're used to. I'll get out of your hair, soon. I promise."

"Not what I said. Take it easy,"

It would have sounded super cold had Vaughn not patted Chelsea's knee as he said it.

"Do you have a phone? I need to make a call."

On Vaughn's kitchen wall was classic curly cord phone. Shocked at the clunky plastic device that had gone obsolete years and years ago, she picked it up a little weirded out.

"Came with the apartment. Don't make many phone calls so I didn't see a point changing it." Vaughn filled her in as she began dialing the chunky, square buttons. "It works, don't it?"

The line rung and Chelsea clutched the phone anxiously, beginning to pace. She forgot the phone wasn't wireless and Vaughn tugged her back by the wire before she could wander away lost in her antsy fidgeting.

"C'mon. Pick up." she pleaded. "I need you to pick up."

"Who you calling?"

"Taro's house. I need one of them to go tell Denny I'm okay. He' doesn't own a phone and is probably freaking out."

Taro's household didn't pick up and Chelsea concluded that they'd gone out for dinner. There was always someone home, otherwise. That family only ever left the house as a group to eat out.

"Shit!"

Tears of frustration sprung to her eyes and she hung up the phone, holding a hand to her face. Her breathing picked back up. Vaughn reached over to pick the phone back up and started dialing.

"W-Who are you calling?"

"Mirabelle's place...hello? Julia, it's Vaughn." he grunted, getting through after a couple rings. "I'm gonna need a favor, and I'm gonna need it real swift. Hang on."

Handing the phone down to Chelsea, Vaughn nodded for her to take it. She took the phone and meekly greeted Julia who faltered at the sound of the farmer's voice coming from Vaughn's home phone number.

"Chelsea, you're in the city? What are you doing all the way out there?"

"I-I took that shopping trip today and missed the last ferry back home."

"You poor dear, that's horrible. You sound so frightened."

"I am, well I was. Vaughn found me... anyways, could you please find Denny and tell him I'm okay?"

Understanding the urgency, Julia agreed to go right away. Before she could hang up, Chelsea quickly spoke up again.

"Could you leave out the fact that I'm at Vaughn's though?" She requested, remembering Denny's dislike of Vaughn. "He can get a little ahead of himself... I don't want him freaking out more than he has to."

"...Are you and Denny...?"

"Yes..."

Chelsea cringed at how bad the situation sounded but Julia understood it for what it was.

"These things happen, Hun. Elliot wouldn't like me sleeping at a man's house, I understand. Your secret is safe with me." She promised, compassionately. "What should I tell him? Let me know and I'll dash right over there."

"...Tell him I'm at an Inn. Please." Chelsea requested, glancing at Vaughn who leaned on the wall watching her. "Um, tell him that I'm safe. I'll be back tomorrow. "

Phone call ending, Chelsea put the phone back on to the receiver. She tucked some hair behind her ear, going back to the sofa.

"That's all taken care of." she mumbled hurriedly, feeling uncomfortable for Vaughn having heard the secretive nature of her phone call. "By the way, that had nothing to do with you personally. Denny, he uh..."

"I know your boyfriend doesn't like me. No use tiptoeing around it. I got a thick skin, and tend not to care what most people think of me."

The silence that ensued was almost painful. Vaughn stared across the room at Chelsea who retreated to the sofa. Something was at the front of his mind but he chose to Ask Chelsea if she was hungry.

"It's been a long day, I'm starving. How are you holding up?"

With everything that took place, Chelsea forgot to eat. She shopped through lunch and missed Dinner. Aware of the empty feeling in her stomach, Chelsea didn't think food sounded like a bad idea. In fact, her hunger crept up on her tenfold.

"I could eat." she answered, playing down how hungry she was. "Last time I ate was Breakfast before I left."

"Are you feeling a more at ease? There's a few options."

"Like?"

"If you don't want to leave. I've got some takeout menus around here somewhere...there's also a place down a few blocks from here that's pretty good."

Since it wasn't her house, and she was completely out of her element in Vaughn's city, Chelsea gave him the authority to decide. He urged Chelsea to pick.

"Which one's better?" she asked.

"The little place down the block. Never had a bad meal from them."

xxxxx

Deciding on going down the block, Chelsea trusted that Vaughn knew what was best. They left the apartment, again, Chelsea keeping in close. She peered around suspiciously, untrusting. Vaughn didn't complain until she almost knocked in to him.

"Some space?"

"Oops, sorry..."

"No one's laying a finger on you while I'm here. Just keep it together, alright?"

The restaurant was a hole in the wall type place, a family run joint. It was small but the place smelled heavenly as they walked in, Vaughn holding open the door for her. The woman who owned the place was a pleasantly plump, older black woman. She wore her hair pulled back in a twisted bun, a white apron pulled around her cotton dress,

"Looky who's here. Hungry, Vaughn?" she drawled in a southern twang, immediately recognizing the sulky man who walked through her door. "Sit wherever you please, Baby. I'll be right over."

What she hadn't spotted, not at first, was the cowboy's tag along. The small woman standing next to him smiled shyly when the restaurant owner took a good look at her.

"Who's that cute little slice of pie you got with you?"

"Caroline..." Vaughn sighed under his breath.

"Well, who is she?"

Jabbing his thumb towards the brunette, Vaughn introduced her gruffly.

"This is Chelsea. Caroline, Chelsea. Chelsea, Caroline."

"You from around these parts, Sugar?"

"N-No, I'm just visiting...I'm a farmer."

"Vaughn here's a cowboy. Mm, what a cute pair you two make!"

Caroline picked up some menus and tapped her pained nails along it's lamented coating, pointing them towards the dining room. Chelsea shifted her eyes, awkwardly.

"Gonna sit your date down, Vaughn?"

"It ain't like that."

"Mmm...well, that's a pity. When you gonn' get yourself a lady to bring home to your mama?"

"It'll happen when it happens."

Laughing a slow, motherly chuckle, Caroline followed the pair to their red leather booth. She set them down the menus, eyeing Chelsea approvingly who was scanning her dinner options. The older woman winked at Vaughn who dismissively looked down at his menu.

"This is all southern style cooking." Chelsea commented out loud.

"There a problem?"

"Huh? No. It's been forever since I had a chicken pot pie..."

"Caroline makes a pretty good one. I get mine without vegetables. Ruins the damn dish,"

Vaughn folded his menu back up, placing it at the edge of the table for when Caroline came back. He already knew what he wanted.

"What are you getting, Vaughn?"

"Fried steak with the fixings."

"That's sound yummy, too."

Hurrying over with a basket of warm biscuits, Caroline placed them in between Vaughn and Chelsea. There was a little dish with pats of butter and a butter knife nestled among them. In her other hand was a pitcher of water, two clean glasses held carefully in the bend of her arm. She poured them drinks and didn't bother pulling out a notepad and pen.

"What will it be?"

"Fried steak, mashed potatoes with gravy."

"What about you, Sugar?"

"Can I have the chicken pot pie?"

"Oh certainly. Let me go fix that right up for y'all."

Taking the menus, Caroline went to the kitchen. She began hollering as she went.

"We've got an order for fried steak and pot pie!"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

Alone, Vaughn and Chelsea began picking from the biscuits. Vaughn watched as she buttered one and took a bite, delighted smile at the buttery bread melting in her mouth.

"Mmm, this is so good."

"Best food comes from the South. Don't give a damn for a fool thinks otherwise."

"Did you grow up in the South?"

Chewing, Chelsea looked across the table at Vaughn genuinely curious. Having a suspicion, the man poked fun at Chelsea.

"What gave you that idea?"

Blue eyes flickered up to Vaughn's black cowboy hat and she sniggered to herself, tearing off another piece of her biscuit.

"Wild guess..."

The cowboy placed his hat in the booth space next to him. He smoothed out his silver strands, scoffing at Chelsea's childish amusement. The longer she looked at Vaughn the harder it was not to giggle.

"You think I'm a walking cliché, don't you?"

"It's not a bad thing. You are who you are." Chelsea promised, sipping some water to wash down the biscuit. "So, how is the South? Is it really all it's cracked up to be?"

"Home is where the heart is. Mine's back on Ma's ranch."

Listening intently, Chelsea maintained eye contact. She wanted to hear more. Vaughn didn't expect her interest to go beyond the initial question. No one ever really asked him questions other than to be polite.

"...My mother runs a ranch in the country side not too far off the shore here. Cows, Sheep, chickens, goats, horses." Vaughn rattled off flatly. "Whole lot."

"Horses?" Chelsea questioned, breathlessly. "She has horses?"

"You like horses?"

"I love horses."

"...I do, too."

Vaughn asked where Chelsea got her love for the creatures.

"I grew up in the city my whole life but I got to pat a horse in elementary school once. I've wanted one forever since that day. Obviously couldn't have one living in the city...there was this patting zoo I volunteered for when I was old enough, though. But, they shut down after a year of me being there."

Sadly, Chelsea remembered having to say goodbye to the sweet animals. Vaugh could see the real hurt there. Her shoulders slumped.

"They were more of a rescue for old, injured race horses. It was nice working with the horses but kind of depressing knowing so many of them were getting hurt. The place packed up and headed down south because they needed more room for all the animals."

The mention of horseraces pissed of Vaughn. He grimaced.

"They shoot horses that can't race anymore. Most don't make it to a rescue or reserve."

"I know...I don't like to think about it. I've always hated that type of sport. Animals have just as much right to live as we do. It's not fair to put their health at risk for something cruel like gambling at the race track."

The cowboy had an equal hatred for horseracing. If he could break every one of those gambling idiot's legs, he wouldn't hesitate to do so to give them a taste of what the poor horses went through. Nor would he hesitate to point the barrel of a shotgun at their head, putting the fear of the Goddess in them.

"Humans are cruel. I've learned that over the years. You'd be sickened at how many people really don't give a damn whether their animals eat or not. I have a blacklist a mile long of people I won't deal or sell to."

"I won't ever be one of those people, I promise. I can't wait to raise my own animals...Mirabelle said Winter may be it."

Vaughn nodded, recalling the stout woman rambling off excitedly about it at the shop.

"Once we get our buildings commissioned and the animals relocated to them, we'll work on getting you your own herd of animals."

"I'm going to take such good care of them."

"I believe that."

The restaurant was quiet around them, the two the only ones dining. Caroline's dinner rush had ended hours before Vaughn and Chelsea showed up. The two chatted back and forth, Caroline waltzing over with two plates of hot food.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm." She hummed, boisterously. "Foods on, eat up."

Clapping her hands excitedly as Caroline put a steaming, freshly baked pot pie in front of her, Chelsea couldn't wait to dig in. Vaughn cut in to his fried steak, inconspicuously watching for Chelsea's reaction. Caroline also lingered, leaning back just far enough to ease drop.

"This is delicious. Mmm!"

Vaughn smirked and Caroline nodded to herself, leaving the two alone. Their meal went without a hitch until Caroline delivered the bill. Vaughn deftly snatched it as Chelsea reached for it, trying to get a look at how much her food was.

"Let me see!"

"Food here don't cost much, I've got it."

"If it doesn't cost much then let me pay for my half."

"I invited you, remember? I'm paying. My granny would roll in her grave if I made a woman pay for her meal."

Easily keeping the bill from Chelsea thanks to his long arms she couldn't reach up to, Vaughn effectively curved her determination to snatch the bill. He doled out the payment and tucked it in the booklet with the bill before he began counting out the tip.

"If I can't pay for my meal, then let me give the tip."

"Nope."

"Let me give the tip or I swear I'm going to crawl under this table and bite your ankles. I can actually reach those."

The voice that popped up behind Chelsea came out of what felt to be nowhere.

"Give the man a good bite but keep it to the ankles while you're down there." Caroline teased, bluntly. "This is a family establishment, thank you kindly."

"I w-wouldn't-"

"Ha! Your face is red as a pepper. You're so funny, I was only trying to get your goat."

Vaughn paid for everything, Chelsea too distracted to fight him on it. Caroline pinched her cheek and took the payment, coming back with a wrapped to-go container. Kissing Chelsea's head in a motherly peck, she placed it in her hands.

"Didn't mean to embarrass you." She apologized, explaining the container had a piece of apple pie. "My great, great granny's recipe. On the house and I hope you like it. Have a great night, y'all. Make sure you bring this one back, Vaughn."

"I already told you it ain't what it looks like."

"I don't wanna hear none of that. Now go on and enjoy the rest of your night. Go on, get."

The city was cold as they walked backed towards Vaughn's apartment. It was a short walk and they didn't say anything for the first half of the way there. A dog that someone was walking began tugging on their leash, dragging the owner along behind them. A big Labrador with black fur managed to get to Chelsea, sniffing the woman's legs and pushing its head in to her to be pat.

"Hi...you're so big. Who's a good doggy?" Scratching the dog's head, Chelsea didn't mind the dog at all. "Oh! Careful, you're going to knock me over."

"Buster!" The owner sighed. "You know better. I'm so sorry, Miss."

"He's a big sweetie! I love him. Labradors are my favorite...you're so lucky."

A big smile took over Chelsea's face as the dog walker went their own way. She waved off the dog, who she already missed. Walking back to the apartment was a much better experience than walking from it had been. Chelsea was relaxed, far less wound up and back to her usual self.

"Glad to see you ain't scared shitless, anymore. You were white as a ghost earlier."

"I'm not as shaken up...earlier was terrifying. The street at night still gives me the willies."

"We'll get you back, it's right up ahead."

Now that she was calm and collected, Chelsea took a better look around Vaughn's apartment as she entered. He had a one bedroom apartment with a bathroom that connected directly to the bedroom. It had two doors, one that went to the bedroom and one to the living room. The kitchen was small, with a modest-sized living room that had a sofa, coffee table and television. As a bachelor, having such a basic layout wasn't surprising. How clean and organized it was is what stood out.

"I didn't say it before, but your apartment is nice."

"Just a roof over my head."

"You don't like it?"

"I'm here because it's convenient."

Putting her pie in the fridge, Chelsea followed Vaughn's example and took off her shoes. The clock on the kitchen stove showed it was around eight. Vaughn went to his room to take off his work gear. He came back out in his black jeans and button up shirt on, belt still buckled but his hat, vest, white handkerchief and fingerless leather gloves were missing. He had a fresh folded up towel and placed it on the bathroom sink.

"You're welcome to shower if you'd like. I'm gonn' make the sofa up for myself and you can take the bed when you're ready to turn in."

Vaughn's sofa was long but not long enough to fit the tall man without him having to tuck his knees up or lay them over the arm rest. He wouldn't get a good night's sleep and she wouldn't get a good night's sleep knowing that.

"You're too tall to sleep on the sofa. I'll take it. It's fine."

"...Look, I ain't looking to pick a fight. Take the bed."

"No. You take the bed. It's yours."

Leaving no room to argue, Chelsea began rifling through her shopping bags to look for something she could wear to bed. She hadn't boughten pajamas since all hers were still in good condition, it had been her outside clothes that took a beating. A loose cotton dress she bought could work as pajamas in a pinch, as she pulled it out of the bag she quickly changed her mind. The clothes hadn't been washed yet and it kind of grossed her out.

"Vaughn?"

"Hm?"

"I'm going to need something to sleep in. I uh- didn't buy pajamas while I was out today."

Nonchalantly, Vaughn went back to his bedroom and came back with a plain black shirt and gray boxers folded over his arm. Chelsea disappeared in to the bathroom with the lent clothing for the night and locked both bathroom doors. Vaughn's shower had the classic metal knob to control the shower temperature she discovered as she reached behind the curtain to turn it on.

Her clothing dropped to the floor and she looked at her face in the mirror, grateful she hadn't been wearing makeup that day. With all her crying it would have been a smeared mess. Checking to see if the water was warmed, she jumped in and took a look at Vaughn's soaps and shampoo. There on the edge of the tub was a bottle of 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner. Next to it was a bottle of bodywash. Both of which were mildly scented to smell nice, and not overly perfumed with the typical masculine scents men were notorious for buying, The overpoweringly strong ones that leave you feeling like a stale bottle of cologne.

As Chelsea washed off, Vaughn was tossing sheets over the sofa. He grabbed one of the pillows off of his bed, hearing the water running as he passed by. The gentle sound of Chelsea wetly lathering her body just barely leaked through the door.

"Sofa is set up." he called in, startling Chelsea.

She dropped the bottle of body wash, Vaughn hearing the tumble. He blinked twice.

"Get in to a fight in there?"

"N-No!"

"You sure? It sounds like you're losing."

"Would you shut up out there!?"

Looking down at the floor, Vaughn shook his head and laughed silently to himself. He looked at the door for a moment, hearing Chelsea cuss under her breath all flustered. She must have picked up the body wash because her lathering resumed. Vaughn sucked in one cheek thoughtfully before stalking off to give the woman her privacy.

As if Vaughn could see through the door, Chelsea washed herself stiffly for a few moments. She kept her arms tucked in close, slightly hunched over despite there being nobody in there peeking at her. Her shower ended and she hastily dried off, Vaughn's clothes staring at her from atop the sink.

She pulled on the large shirt first, the hem falling like a curtain above her knees. The boxers, thankfully, had an elastic band that kept the garment on her despite it threatening to slip. The curve of Chelsea's hips helped give it something to hold on to. Rolling her hair up in to the towel to dry it, Chelsea hung the towel to dry and did her best to comb out her damp hair with her fingers. She was still fussing with it when she left the bathroom.

"I have a comb in there." Vaughn spoke up, sitting on the sofa watching the news on T.V when he turned to look at her. "Medicine cabinet."

Chelsea properly combed out her hair then folded up her clothes to wear back home. She met Vaughn on the couch and crossed her arms over her chest, sitting down and pulling her legs up on the cushions. Vaughn handed her the remote, telling her she was welcome to change it to something else while he went to get settled for the night. He took his turn in the shower and Chelsea flipped through the channels, not tired enough to go to bed yet.

"Not much on to watch..."

Some cartoons were on. There was a sports game on, too. She clicked through a few soap operas before finding a random movie that was just starting. The bathroom door opened and Chelsea heard Vaughn getting out, using the door that led right to his bedroom instead of the living room. Remembering her pie in the fridge when a commercial popped up, she got up to grab it and quietly open a few drawers until finding the silverware.

Easing back down on to the couch, she took a bite of the pie, eyes glued to the screen. Vaughn's bedroom door opened, him stepping out in a pair of black cotton pajama bottoms and a white tank top. His shoulder and arms were large and well defined with years of manual labor. His abdomen tight, raised surface of his abs peeking out through the fabric of his top.

"Find anything good?"

Chelsea froze when he plopped down on the couch next to her. The sullen cowboy of few words was now the sullen cowboy of few clothes. She was so used to seeing the man dressed in so many layers that seeing him dressed down in pajamas was oddly disorientating.

"I put on this movie because it just started a few minutes ago. Not far enough in it to give you an opinion."

"Guess we'll see what happens." Was Vaughn's retort. "I can't sleep yet."

"Not tired?"

"Not yet."

Noticing Chelsea got around to Caroline's little gift, he asked how she liked it.

"Caroline baked this with love. It's delicious."

"That woman knows her way around a kitchen."

"Do you want to try it?"

Being that Chelsea was polite by nature, she didn't think before she offered a bite out to Vaughn. She'd been so used to holding out her spoon for Denny to try her cooking that the action was reflexive. Vaughn stared at her, unsure of how to even react. Chelsea quickly became embarrassed.

"I wasn't thinking." She apologized, withdrawing the spoonful she offered Vaughn. "Sorry about that...it's in my nature to share."

"Don't be sorry. You meant well. I'll try it."

Taking the bite, Vaughn grunted.

"Not bad at all."

When the pie was done, Vaughn seemed lost in thought as he watched the television. Next commercial break he didn't snap out of it and Chelsea prodded him.

"You okay?"

"Thinkin' about my mother. She always has pies and cobblers sitting on the windowsill."

"...you miss home, don't you? Your real home."

Shifting just his eyes over, Vaughn shrugged.

"What's it to you?"

"Nothing. Well, I don't literally mean nothing. You said you don't like it around here in the big city...sounds like you miss home."

"I go back to visit when I can. It's not often but I drop in on Ma from time to time."

"You travel around for your job. Was there nothing available in your hometown?"

"Small town, small opportunities. Love Ma and all but there wasn't much to be made hanging around there."

The movie played but the two were more invested in chatting back and forth. When the credits rolled, Chelsea looked startled. She couldn't believe it.

"The movie's over already?"

"Looks like it. Wasn't anything special."

"Guess not..."

She caught herself yawing and held a hand over her mouth. Vaughn got up, tossing the empty pie container in the trash and putting the spoon in the sink for Chelsea before turning in for the night. He made it to his bedroom door.

"Night." were his parting words.

As Vaughn began to shut it, Chelsea had something to say.

"It means a lot to me what you did today. Everything. You didn't have to do any of it... so, thank you."

"Don't gotta to thank me. Get some rest, it's late."

Vaughn's door shut and Chelsea laid down on the couch, pulling the sheet over herself. The pillow under her head was clean but not fresh from the washing machine clean. The pillow case smelled faintly of Vaughn, his soap and shampoo clinging to the fabric. Being a pillow hugger, she rested her head on one end of it and hugged the rested to her chest.

As she lay there in the dark, the passing lights of cars on the street outside created stripes of white that passed over the room before fading quickly. She stared at them, getting a chill in her body remembering how the night all started. The scent that she'd smelled on Vaughn's shirt as she sobbed in to it was in the pillow. Pressing her face in to it, she relaxed.

But, she couldn't fall asleep.

Xxxxx

"This can't be happening..."

Sleeping didn't come to Chelsea that night. A couple of hours of tossing and turning and she resorted to putting the television back on. Another movie was on, but she turned it on after it was already half way done. The scene she stumbled upon turned her cheeks pink. A couple were kissing sensually in bed, clothing being peeled off one another tauntingly slow. The woman was curvaceous with long brown hair that cascaded past her collar bone.

The man's long back ran up it in wide, strong shoulders. He kissed down the woman's slender pale neck, heading towards her cleavage to suckle the flesh affectionately. He had large hands, one of which cupped a breast over the low cut camisole. Chelsea could have changed the channel, but she chose not to. As the scene went on the character began to speak. Specifically, the man had a southern twang. Chelsea swallowed dryly

The camera angle accentuated the man's strong chiseled jawline. He had sharp, narrowed eyes and straight lightly colored hair. It was an ashy blonde. Chelsea's fingers squeezed the pillow, eyes glued to the screen. Shamefully, the longer she watched, arousal sparked. It began as a dimly lit fuse in her lower belly, sizzling it's way down the fuse between her legs. The hot shiver that wracked her body left her nipples hard and budded, grazing the material of her shirt as she moved... the material of Vaughn's shirt.

Vaughn, who the male actor loosely resembled.

As her thighs squeezed, Chelsea's breath hitched watching fingers creep down the length of the woman's stomach. His fingers reached her panties. The blonde man and brunette woman suddenly left an intrusive thought in her mind. The couple...they sort of looked like her and Vaughn. A flash of what would be if it were her in that bed with Vaughn popped in to her mind's eye. It was abrupt and faded quickly as Chelsea swatted the imagery away.

She swiftly changed the channel. Catching her breath before her fluttering heart got the better of her. With Denny around sex became a regular thing. Denny always propositioned her, looking for a little love between sheets. Especially as she lay in bed, ready to sleep. As time went on, she not only craved it but became part of her bedtime routine a few days a week. Some nights were easier than others to fall asleep without it. This was not one of those nights.

"Why did I turn on the T.V?" she cursed herself, now watching what looked to be some show.

Her thighs squeezed firmly as she tried to will the feeling away. The squeezing only made it worse and she stopped, finding herself restless. Tossing off the sheet, she sat up and began a quiet pace across the floor to calm herself. Walking back and forth, she was mindful not to drag her feet. The heat between her legs wasn't dying out. Hand in her hair, Chelsea dragged her bangs back and they fell back over her forehead.

The dead of night stared back at Chelsea as she pulled back the blinds to peek out the fire escape window. She folded her arms along it and rested her head down upon them sideways. Lost in thought, she didn't hear the squeak of Vaughn's mattress as he got out of bed. The bedroom door clicked open softly, the sound muted by the T.V.

"Chelsea?"

"Holy shit-" she flinched, whipping her head around. "You scared the crap out of me."

"Came out for water, didn't mean to."

The scare elevated the pace of her heart and Chelsea had to take a heavy, slow breath to slow it back down. Vaughn ran the tap to fill a glass, drinking it down. He coughed lightly, clearing his throat as some went down the wrong pipe. He left the glass in the kitchen and walked up from behind her to get a glance at what she found so fascinating out the window.

"Longing for the outside? Thought you had your refill for city life."

"I'm fine right in here. I don't miss all that, at all."

"What's so fascinating staring out the window then?"

"I can't sleep. I'm a little more wound up than I thought..."

Chelsea chose to omit why.

"Back on the island I would take a walk to fix that. Along the farm or the beach."

The mention of the beach spurred Vaughn to throw in a thinly veiled jab towards Denny.

"Heard some hermit lives down in that shack on the beach. Only comes out to eat fish."

Chelsea snorted, breaking out in a laugh. As mean as it'd been, Vaughn wasn't necessarily wrong. Denny really did only leave his shack to fish. And to see her.

"He comes out to see me too, Asshole." she snickered, still getting a kick out of Vaughn's joke.

"I'm sure he's said worse about me. Fair is fair."

"Thought you didn't care what people think about you."

"I don't. "

Wiping a humored tear from her eye, Chelsea got the last of her chuckles out.

"He doesn't necessarily go around talking shit. Least, not to me. I don't know if he says stuff to others. I'm not with him all day, you know."

"There's a relief."

"...what?"

"He isn't talking shit to you."

Chelsea rested her head on her arms again, watching another dog going for a nightly walk. Her pulse calmed significantly with the casual talk, the images once plaguing her mind fading away in distraction.

"Denny thinks you're a bummer, is all."

"Is that what you think of me?"

Thinking about how to answer the question, Chelsea curled her tongue behind her front teeth for a few seconds. Vaughn lingered, waiting for the answer.

"You're rough around the edges most of the time. But, if that's you then fine. Maybe he's annoyed that you never smile." The brunette answered after a good deliberation. "Personally, I think he smiles too much sometimes."

"That so?"

"He doesn't usually know how to take things seriously until there's a big problem. He's a good person but his lack of discipline is kind of annoying. But, like I said, people are who they are. Nobody is perfect and I don't expect them to be. That includes you, Denny and everyone else I cross paths with."

Vaughn and Chelsea were thinking about their tense moment over the bed she bought, how roughly and rudely Vaughn spoke to her that day. Chelsea decided to bring it up.

"You made me cry before, you know...didn't think I'd ever admit that to you, honestly."

"...why did you?"

"I think you're secretly a good person under all that mean shit you throw around. When you're an asshole, you really go all in... but the same could be said when you want to be nice. You showed me that today."

Chelsea revealed her inner thoughts, honestly. She reflected on the night they had together. The person Vaughn was when angry or annoyed was not the person he really was. Maybe that rough personality coexisted within him, but there was more to him.

"I should have just said thank you when you paid for my bed. I did you a favor paying for those building commissions, and you were only trying to show me your gratitude..." Chelsea continued, spilling far more than she originally intended. "Your approach was awful. But, I don't hold that day at my house against you."

"Your boyfriend probably does."

"I never told him."

That, Vaughn didn't believe.

"That's a crock of shit."

"Nope." Chelsea remained firm. "I really never said a word to him about it. Nor will I ever. I'm not going to give him a reason to hate you. At first it was because I didn't want him to rile himself up, period. Now it's because I forgive you."

"...no one's ever said that to me before."

Turning to face Vaughn, Chelsea scrunched her face in confusion. The silver-haired man was right behind her. She didn't realize he was that close.

"No one's ever said what to you before?"

"That they forgive me for being a prick...accepting me for what I am." He confirmed, a sage look about him. "Everyone's got a damn opinion about me. Never a good one. "

"...You're alright, Vaughn. I can vouch for that. I won't ever say anything bad about you."

Unconsciously, Vaughn took a step closer. Chelsea picked up on the movement immediately. Keeping her cool, she casually turned her back to Vaughn and pretended to be gazing out the window again.

"So, what time should we head out tomorrow?" she asked, a quiver growing in her voice as she fought it. "We could head out mid-morning."

"In a hurry to leave now?"

"No, I'm just th-thinking ahead. We should get to sleep. It's late...really late."

A loose floorboard creaked under Vaughn's weight as he stepped on it, moving in closer. Chelsea took a deep breath and held it. He stood right behind her. The material of his pants brushed the hanging hem of her shirt. Panicking, Chelsea turned back around went to walk past Vaughn.

"I'm going to bed, now. You should, too. Night, Vaughn-"

She found herself blocked, Vaughn taking hold of both her forearms. Shrinking in to herself as the muscular cowboy slowly walked her a few steps backwards, back to the fire escape window, Chelsea felt her skin prickle pleasurably. Fear and anticipation brewed a dangerous reaction below the hips. The fuse she'd managed to fizzle out was lit, again. That southern drawl rolling off his tongue slowly drizzled gasoline over it.

"Is there something you're itching to tell me?"

Chelsea had a resurfacing itch to do something, it wasn't to tell Vaughn anything. The violet eyes looking at her were barely visible, just enough light seeping in from the blinds that she could see his face and make out the outline of Vaughn's body. His violet eyes were fixed on her, tracking every shift of the eye, quiver of the lip and labored breath.

"I don't have anything to tell you, no."

"No?"

"No."

Chelsea shakily shook her head. Vaughn didn't move in any closer, nor did he let go of her arms. His grip was firm, but gentle. Had she tried to rip her arms away, she could have. He would have let her.

"Are you always such a bad liar?"

"Don't do this."

"..."

The fear in the petite woman's voice had nothing to do with concern of imminent danger. Vaughn closing the distance between their face was the problem. She didn't want to stop him. That was the problem. Had Vaughn always been so handsome? She couldn't remember thinking so before...

"Denny-"

"Isn't here, Darlin'." Vaughn cut her off, voice deep and buttery with the term of endearment. "It's you and I."

xxxxx