Hello, hello again. Anyone else watching the final episode of "Breaking Bad" on Sunday? I think it might break my heart. It's probably the first television show I've really loved since Buffy.

On with this show….

So it's best to think of these as cute little snapshots of life. They won't explain everything or cover every detail. The first four will be about E/C figuring themselves out. The second four or so have a different theme/focus. I hope you enjoy them :)

December, 2038

"Where do you want to go?" he had asked.

"Everywhere! Anywhere."

"You will not be too cold? We will primarily travel at night."

"No. The fresh air feels wonderful." The freedom felt wonderful.

And so, with that, he had taken her across Western Europe for a month and a half. Under the light of the moon, he had shown her Paris, Madrid, Berlin, and anywhere else that Erik thought she would "thoroughly enjoy." For the first time ever, they walked together through the crowds of functioning and healthy societies. She absorbed all of it with wide eyes, practically dancing along the streets in her wool scarf, stocking hat, and purple coat. He followed behind with a steady and unyielding gait, forever vigilant as he kept to the shadows-until Christine would run back and take his gloved hand, making him walk alongside her. His head would snap down, and he would stare at her with surprised affection, as though she had just awoken him from a bad dream. Sometimes he would give her the histories of the palaces, cathedrals and other structures that were hundreds of years old. Sometimes he was very quiet.

And he was still very tentative with her, only placing his hands on her shoulder from behind or brushing a strand of hair out of her face. Before heading into her adjoining hotel room, she would always kiss him goodnight, attempting to start closing the distance that had always existed. When she pressed her lips to his, he would respond and pull her closer, and she could feel the desire that he no longer dared show her during the other twenty-three and a half hours of the day. She noted how still Erik would grow when she left his lips and left a trail of kisses down his dry and tattered cheek. And she noted how he would pull away when it became too much—when he started to want something he didn't think she would ever give.

She was aware. And he was wrong. She just needed a little more time.

They would hold each other for a little while, unable to say anything but, "This is so nice."

Well, that's what she would say. He would usually begin talking about where he would take her next, as though that was the key to keeping her there. If he couldn't literally give her a country, he would figuratively give her the world.

And then they would go back out the next day to explore further or move on to their next destination.

At some level, she still felt like a child. Erik gave her any money that she asked for without pause or question, but it was still his money. She had a difficult time navigating streets and bus or train systems. Only a few foreign words were becoming understandable, despite the software that Erik had bought to help her learn a little bit of Spanish, French, and German. She preferred it when he practiced with her. And Erik was also completely in charge of security concerns—how often they should be seen or whether it was safe to sit in a restaurant and have a meal. He had bought her a stylish brown cap to place over her brunette wig.

According to her identification, her name was Chelsea. At lease she was permitted to keep the first two letters of her name. And Erik always called her Christine when they were alone. She came to love the way he reverently said her name.

Especially because the old Christine was beginning to disappear.

She glanced at reflection in a bathroom mirror one morning. Slenderizing dark-blue jeans. A long, cerulean sweater with a sinking collar that revealed her collarbone. Aside from her eyes, the girl from the Community had physically vanished in less than a year. Still, she felt so unsure of herself sometimes—of who she was or what her next steps would be.

"Erik?"

"Yes?" His voice always carried a soft note of relief when she asked for something. As though he knew that she would stay as long as he could fulfill her wishes. She needed to fix that. She needed to fix a lot of things. But right now….

"I'd like to get my ears pierced."

He paused in his long steps and gave her a strange look. Erik softly laughed. "If you looked as I did, you would not want to put any more holes in your head, you know? But fine. Very well. I suppose it will make you blend in even more, won't it?"

There was a note of sadness that she didn't understand at the time. Maybe he thought she was changing too rapidly from the timid singer he had first heard in the midst of a deranged cult. But what he needed to understand was that she was just trying to grow up a little bit and find her way in this terrifying, beautiful world. And that the girl at the cult had had so very little to offer someone like him. Sometimes Christine grew angry at that girl for her naivety. Mostly, she felt sorry for her old self.

In her hotel room, she took off the cap and wig then tucked her hair behind her ears, admiring the gold stubs. It hadn't really hurt at all. Erik came up behind her, eyes on the top of her head and not the mirror. "They suit you nicely," he said. "I will buy you more earrings when you can remove those. Diamonds, if you like." And then he turned to go into his adjoining room as he did every night.

"Erik? Where's my goodnight kiss?" she softly teased, turning from her reflection.

"You seemed preoccupied."

"Yes. Staring at my own earlobes does keep me busy." She came to him for her kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on the tips of her toes. Then she watched his back as he retreated, wondering what he did for most of the night or if he ever slept.

Or what he was thinking. Or feeling.

It was nearing the middle of December, and she was beginning to feel a little tired and a little sad. Maybe it was the fact that the holidays were approaching, and she watched as old and young families walked the streets with exhausted smiles and packed shopping bags. While there were ceremonies in the Community, a real celebration had never been allowed. Lights were strung out on signs and buildings. Wreaths hung on doors. Homes. She wanted a home.

This desire was solidified as she finally managed to become lost one evening, a few days before Christmas Eve. She'd run over to look at an advertisement for a holiday-themed play, attempting to read the foreign words on the colorful and jolly sign. And then she'd turned around and glanced into the crowds. But Erik was no longer visible in the shadows. She wandered around for few minutes, pretending not to be lost and merely looking around at the displays. But she was.

Ugh. All right. Where is the tracking device? This so embarrassing. She frantically dug through her purse, pushing aside the wallet and a bag of makeup. Had she left it in another purse?

She had. So embarrassing. And now a little scary.

Glancing up, she stared blankly into the crowds, listening to hundreds of voices talking and not understanding a single one. Even if she had, though, she couldn't just go up to someone and ask, "Have you seen my companion? He's six foot eight, wears a mask, and dresses in all black?

It was dangerous to draw attention to either of them. Because, if it ever came down to it, she knew Erik would sacrifice himself for her in a heartbeat. The thought made her sick to her stomach.

Someone jostled her shoulder and said, "Entschuldigung." So this is what being utterly alone would have felt like. At least she had plenty money if she needed to get a room or food. It didn't come to that, though. She finally stood near the spot she'd gotten lost and pressed herself up against the brick wall, visible and yet unnoticeable to anyone not looking for her.

It worked, and a tall, black figure appeared at the corner of her vision within twenty minutes. "I'm sorry," she said, rubbing her eyes with the back of her glove. "I left the tracking thing. I wasn't sure what to do. Stupid, I know."

"It is fine," he said. "You are found. Let's go to our room." She couldn't tell if he was angry or upset. His tone was emotionless, and his eyes were vacant. He was only quieter that evening. Quiet enough to make her squirm a bit as she read on the bed while he worked on a computer.

"I am sorry," she said again. "Are you…upset?"

"Of course not. It is fine." But then he paused. "If you ever do decide to run, remember not to leave a trail behind you. Do not let people see your entire profile. You will still have access to the account at all times. But be careful."

"If I decide to-" She shook her head and stood, walking up behind him. "Erik, I would never just…leave like that. If we were unhappy together, I'd tell you. We would talk. I wouldn't disappear without a word. I did once because you wouldn't listen. But now you listen. I know you do."

He stiffly nodded once and returned to his computer. She realized just how much he'd come to mean to her, how much his words could hurt because she cared so very much.

Several days later, she approached him again, head held high.

"Erik?"

"Yes?"

"There's something that I want."

"What is that?" He looked at her with interest.

"If it's safe, I'd like to settle in one place for a while. I'd like a real home."

"You want me to obtain a home?"

She couldn't read his tone. "Don't misunderstand. I've loved traveling with you. It's been wonderful. Everything I wanted. But I miss having a place to come back to." She paused. "But it's important that you have what you want, too. Do you want to keep traveling?"

"I have seen it all before," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"But what do you want?" she asked, touching his shoulder. "You never say. You always say you just want me to be happy. But you must have something you want to do or see."

"I have done exactly as I wanted for two empty decades. I have seen all there is to see. I really don't care. You are here, and I don't care where you want to go."

"But I want you to be happy, too," she softly protested.

He gave a short, almost amused laugh. "You don't even know, do you? No, you wouldn't, and I wouldn't want you to. These are by far the best days of my life. You need never worry about that. If you wish to go to the outer edges of Siberia, I will take you without resentment."

She weakly smiled.

Happy.

They were happy in the way someone would be after escaping hell and dropping into limbo. They were aimless, confused, afraid, and yet happy because the past had been so very terrible.

He was afraid to want more, she supposed. Because his past wants and ambitions had nearly set the world on fire.

She was afraid to give more. Because she didn't even know what she had to offer yet.

But it was time to escape limbo. They both deserved better.

"You want a home?" he again asked. She thought she could see a flicker of genuine joy.

"I want a home," she agreed. Removing his mask, she embraced him, her cheek pressed against his cold flesh. Moistness intermingled. Raising her head, she leaned in a second time to give him their traditional goodnight kiss. She deepened it and then bent to press her lips to his neck.

Until he pulled back and said, "I will find us a place to live while you sleep." His voice was strained.

It was hard.

Since October, she knew he existed only for her. He'd given up five years' worth of dark ambitions all for her. He was ready to be imprisoned and probably sentenced to death for treason and terrorism, all to clear her name. And she knew he was still terrified of scaring her away. While his fears were horribly unfounded, Christine still wasn't yet ready to make that final promise. For the first time in her life, she had the freedom to try and find herself. And she'd already begun.

She now knew she didn't want to spend the rest of her life traveling. A little bit, sure. She still wanted to spend two weeks on a warm beach or climb into the wooded mountains. But she was definitely someone who liked having a warm home to come back to. She wanted to begin her education and make some type of difference in the world. She wanted to be able to go out alone without being terrified, for heaven's sake.

And Erik was giving her this time with patience and without pressure. It was the best he thought he could hope for, having her as she remained just out of reach. And so he said he was happy. Maybe he thought he was.

It was hard.

Because she was starting to love him but still needed a moment to breathe.

She gave him one last quick kiss, running a finger through his sparse hair. "Goodnight, my Erik." He closed his eyes. She had never referred to him as hers before; the meaning clearly wasn't lost.

As she left to go to her room, she heard him furiously typing at the keyboard—no doubt going about the task of finding them a home.