Sarah only wakes when the sunlight filters through the bedroom window. She stretches luxuriously, smiling as she hears the distant sounds of the ocean. They are so close to the waves she can smell them. Maybe being on the run isn't so bad. She was in paradise, with the boy she loved. What more could a girl want?

She feels him stir next to her. Glancing at his sleepy face, she takes in the sight before he opens his eyes. His face is so relaxed in sleep. The worry lines that have been prevalent during this crazy past week are gone. His breathing is slow and even, so unlike the gasping breaths they've had to take for days. His lashes are impossibly long for a man; they brush against his cheekbones. The cheekbones that made him look like a Greek god carved from marble. His skin is sun kissed and a little ruddy from being stranded at sea. She loves him so much.

He grumbles then, slightly startling her. He wakes like he's coming out of a coma, almost shooting straight up in the bed.

"Shhh," she tells him, placing a hand on his chest and gently pushing him back onto the mattress. "You're okay. Everything's okay."

His eyes find hers. They are slightly wild, perhaps chasing away nightmares. She wouldn't blame him if he was having one. Trauma barely began to describe what he had been through lately.

"Hey Val," he finally said. "You're here."

"Of course I'm here you weirdo," she laughs as she swats him in the stomach.

"Ow! That was very uncalled for, comrade."

She shakes her head at him, rolling her eyes.

"Come on John B., we have to get moving for the day."

"Why?" he grumbles as his head bounces back onto his pillow.

"Remember when I took you shopping before our trip to the Archives?"

He glares at her.

"...Yes."

"Well now we need to do something similar. So first things first, we need to figure out how to break down the gold. We have to make this island our own."

She knows he knows she's right. Sarah was a planner, she always had been. But the beautiful thing was, now, SHE was the one who was making them without anyone's influence. She was in control of her own destiny. Her father couldn't force her to go to UNC, Topper couldn't force her to be his Kook princess, and absolutely no one could stop her from whatever was coming next. And if that was with John B., she knew she would choose to plan with him. Forever.

John showers quickly, making sure it's a cold one. They might be on another mission, but being around Sarah, without anyone following or supervising them, well, it was every teenage boy's dream come true.

He towels off his hair and returns to the bedroom, grateful that Sarah has already laid out his dry clothes for him on the bed. She's made it too, the sheets neat and smooth, the edges tucked in military style. He smiles to himself. She is such a perfectionist sometimes.

Sarah walks in just then, and he is struck once again by how beautiful she is in just a pair of denim cutoffs and a light-colored cami, her hair pulled up into a messy bun that leaves strands of hair framing her face. No matter what she's wearing, how her hair is done, or if she looks tired or not, his heart skips a beat every time he looks at her.

She smiles, her eyes saying she knows what he's thinking and she loves him for it. She could never say the words out loud and he would still know.

"Come on Val, time to complete our new assignment."

She salutes him with a straight face.

"Indeed Vlad. We have work to do."

They make it to downtown Nassau. Their senses are overwhelmed by the historic architecture, the modern murals, and monuments that surround them. This place is a rich mix of ancient culture and current trends.

John leads them down the street, weaving between other tourists and locals. It's a god-send so many Bahamians speak English. Otherwise, they'd be screwed. John remembers the one time he tried to speak French to Sarah and how much of a fail that turned out to be.

Finally they reach his destination: jewelers. John stops outside the store, putting his hands on both of Sarah's shoulders and looking seriously into her eyes.

"Listen Val, this could go really badly. I don't know these people and this could be the stupidest thing I've ever done in my life."

She raises her eyebrows at that, her face reminding him of all the idiotic shit he had done that week alone.

"Okay fine but it ranks in the top ten at least. Listen, we're going to go in there, and I'm going to convince the owner to use his tools to cut down our gold and then sell it to him in pieces. If he's smart, he won't rip us off or tell anyone about the gold, otherwise he won't keep getting paid."

She nods at him, silently agreeing to his plan. The best partner in crime one could ask for.

John pushes the door open, entering the shop. A bell dings to signal their arrival, and an old man pops his head up from behind the counter. He has a friendly face John thinks to himself. Hopefully he also possesses a reasonable mind.

John shifts Sarah protectively behind him. He takes a deep breath and for once, decides to tell the truth about his situation. He was tired of always lying, covering for his uncle, his friends, his own misdeeds. If they were going to start over here, some of what John said had to be the truth.

"Excuse me, sir. I know what I'm about to say is crazy, but I need you to hear it."

And John tells him everything. Well not exactly everything. He left out the part where he had been framed for murder and he was a fugitive with a bounty on his head. But he tells the story of how he, Sarah, and the Pogues had found a literal buried treasure, and her father had stolen it. That all they had left was one precious piece and they needed his help to turn it into actual currency. He begs him to understand, to not question it too much, and in return he promises monthly pieces of the gold with an extra 10% thrown in for his silence.

John finishes speaking. He is almost out of breath from talking so fast. He feels Sarah shift nervously at his shoulder. He holds her hand tightly in his, ready to sprint away at a moment's notice.

The man considers them closely for what seems like an eternity. John is about to scream from the tension.

The old man leans forward, beckoning them closer to the counter.

"Here's what we'll do," he says in a slight whisper. "I'll help you. I went through my fair shares of troubles when I was young, and I know what it is to be desperate. I wish someone had leant me a hand back then, so I'm going to do that for you now. Especially because I know what it is to risk it all for love."

He nods knowingly at Sarah and John inclines his head in confirmation.

"So," their savior continues, "I will melt this down for you, and you can bring me a piece a week so that we can exchange it for smaller quantities of cash. I don't have enough in my store to buy the whole thing off of you, so it'll take time. Maybe months."

John is watching his face intently, hardly believing it. Was this too good to be true? Had all his prayers been answered?

The jeweler looks him squarely in the eye.

"All I ask in exchange is for some labor."

John is surprised by this. Not what he had expected, but he's intrigued.

"What kind of labor?" he inquires.

"My son has a small fish business. He and his crew take the boats out, reel in as many catches as they can, and then come back to the mainland to sell them to restaurants, hotels, whoever will buy them. It's not lucrative, and it's hard work, but you look like you could handle it. And you'll be paid the appropriate wages of course. He just really needs an extra set of hands"

"Deal," John says, without even stopping to consider it. If he could get what he wanted, keeping all of the gold, AND earning from a job, well damn he couldn't think of a better trade.

"And you," the man says, turning to Sarah. "How do you feel about being my front end girl?"
Sarah blinks at him, not fully understanding.

"It's not difficult work. Greet the customers, help them out, take notes for the inventory every day. I guess kind of like an assistant really. It's just me here, and I could use the help. I'm not as young as I used to be," he chuckles.

"Okay," Sarah says, a little hesitantly. "I can try."

John smiles, because he knows Sarah has never had a job a day in her life. She was probably a nervous wreck,

He pulls her close, kissing the top of head.

"You can do this baby. We can do this."

She nods, smiling up at him. Already more confident, Sarah turns to their guardian angel.

"Thank you so much," she said earnestly. "Your help means everything."

"Of course," he replied. "What can I say, I'm a hopeless romantic."

John grins, because he knows the feeling.

John hands over the gold, trusting the man to stay true to his word. Before he heads into the back room to work his magic, John stops him.

"I'm sorry sir, but we never got your name."

The old man's wise eyes meet his. They are warm and welcoming and John instantly feels safer with this man in their corner.

"I'm Ramon," he answers. "And you?"

Sarah looks at him, her eyes asking him what to do. John knows that no matter what he feels, protecting her is his number one goal. Maybe someday they could tell Ramon the truth, but not today. Not yet.

"I'm Vlad," he says. "And this is Valerie."

Ramon smiles, a twinkle in his eye that John doesn't quite understand.

"Well Vlad and Valerie, welcome to Nassau."

Sarah can barely believe John pulled the plan off flawlessly, but she isn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. They now have help with the gold, jobs, and a local willing to keep their secrets. She is so proud of John for handling all of this. He's only 16. He shouldn't have to worry about anything other than going to school and finding the best spots to surf. That life is behind them now. This is the real world, cruel and unforgiving, and they need to make their own way through it.

Sarah and John agree to start work the very next day. John will have to wake much earlier than she will, at an ungodly hour of 4 in the morning. Sarah only has to be in the shop every day from 8 to 4, leaving her just enough time to meet John at the docks, where they can walk home together. Already a little routine is starting and it makes Sarah feel more in control than she has in days.

They leave the shop, telling Ramon they will see him tomorrow. He has broken down one corner of the gold, giving them almost 1,000 Bahamian dollars. It's more money than John has ever held at one time, and he feels it burning a hole in his pocket. Sarah is also nervous, not trusting anyone around her.

Their first stop is a clothing store, where they will need to get brand new wardrobes. Not that they'll deviate from their styles that much; Sarah thinks John might die if he doesn't get to wear a Hawaiian shirt and bandana every day.

"What do you say Vlad? Shall we continue our tradition of choosing each others' outfits?"

He grimaces, but she knows he will do anything for her.

Sarah browses through the shop, grabbing a handful of short sleeve button ups she knows he'll wear. She grabs multiple pairs of shorts, in a variety of colors, and some sturdy ones for fishing. She grins as she finds an entire display of bandanas in every pattern one could imagine. She grabs seven, one for each day of the week. With a few more essential items like shoes and sunglasses, she thinks his looks are ready. She tosses the stack into his hands and he grumbles as he enters the dressing room.

He models every outfit for her, making funny faces to make her laugh. If she didn't know any better, she might think he's actually enjoying himself. For once, they are just two teenagers, crazy in love and doing a regular activity like shopping, seemingly not having a care in the world.

He decides he likes everything she has chosen, in addition to a few things he has grabbed for himself. It's not too much, just enough that they will only have to repeat items every two weeks. But it's still more than he's ever had in his closet.

Then it's her turn. He picks out practical things of course: sandals, tank tops and tees, shorts and jeans. All things she'll need. He selects a few nice tops for when she works, and a pair of sneakers. Then he reaches the one thing he was most looking forward to: undergarments.

Sarah is protesting behind him.

"John B.! Absolutely not! You are not picking out my underwear!"

"Please?" He sticks his bottom lip about, widening his eyes and giving her a look of pure innocence.

Sarah rolls her eyes. She knows she won't win this one. And it doesn't really matter. They're about to be living together. He'll see them eventually.

"Fine," she huffs. "But don't go overboard."

Excitedly shoving his hands in the drawer like a kid in a candy store, he digs through layers of panties. He grabs everything, boyshorts, thongs, cheekies, you name it. He hands them to her, turning his attention to the bras. He stops short, turning to look at her, a blush spreading across his face.

"Uhm, I don't know what size you are."

She almost bursts out laughing. Boys, she thinks. They are such simple creatures.

"34 C. Don't get anything too fancy."

He nods, turning back to his mission.

Almost two hours later they exit the store, bags hanging from their arms. They spent about ΒΌ of their money, which by Sarah's mental budget, was about exactly where they should have been. There was still the first month rent to pay, and they needed food. But otherwise, the money would last them until they went back to Ramon's to cut down more of the gold.
Next stop was a grocer's. They would need easy foods, veggies, meats John could cook up, things that weren't too complicated or expensive. Sarah has next to no experience in the kitchen, but she knows John is probably a little better off since he's been on his own so much.

Shopping goes quickly. John methodically picks out everything he thinks they'll need for the week, grabbing plenty of non-perishables in case of a power outage or storm. He's always so prepared, Sarah thinks to herself. She couldn't have been in better hands. No one has ever taken care of her this way. Maybe her father, she ruminates sadly. But he was gone, dead to her. John B. was her family now.

Teetering under the weight of everything they are carrying, Sarah decides it's time to head back to the bungalow. It's been a successful day, and now she's tired, desperately needing a break from all the running around. John agrees, and together they start the short journey home.

"Sarah," John says as soon as they are far enough from other people as not to be overheard.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for doing this with me. For leaving it all behind. I'll never be able to thank you for all of it, but I promise you that I'll do everything I can. We're going to figure out a plan, we're going to get back to the Pogues, and I'm going to clear my name. And I know that involves taking your father down in the process, and I'm sorry for that. But I just want you to know it's all going to be okay."

She smiles at him, tears gathering in her eyes. He is so good, and his love is so pure.

"I know John B. I wouldn't be here otherwise."

Finally back home, John suggests they unpack everything, and put it away best they can. Better to have this house feeling like a home quickly. They both need some sense of stability and normalcy. Maybe having clothes in their closets and food in their cupboards would give them that.

John only leaves momentarily to go pay the landlord. The man just grunts and takes the money, barely looking at him. John B. doesn't care. He's used to that reaction from adults.

By the time he gets back to Sarah, she's organized everything. She's standing at the kitchen counter, struggling to put the last can on a high shelf. He grins, walking over, taking the can out of her hand, and placing it where she is trying to reach. It puts their bodies in close proximity, his front pressed against her back. He takes advantage of the position, wrapping his strong arms around her waist. She sighs, leaning into him, resting her head against her chest. A feeling of contentment and calm washes over him as he breathes into her hair. She's the perfect height that he can place his chin atop her head.

She reaches a hand up, and runs it along his jaw. It's stubbled; he hasn't shaved in days. She doesn't seem to mind. She fell in love with a Pogue afterall, not a clean cut, preppy Kook.

She turns around, gazing into his eyes.

"Could you remind me of the happy ending?" she asks him, her eyes never leaving his.

He smiles at that. It was the same thing he had said to her when they were on the run and she had been hiding him.

He begins whispering the familiar words to her.

"Yeah. We were able to meet the crew at the dock. They had the getaway boat. And we didn't go to Mexico, but we made it to the Bahamas. I'm going to be a fisherman, and while you didn't get your sandwich shop, you got a job you'll be great at. And we got that house on the beach. And we're going to get a dog. And a boat. We'll remake the Pogue. And everything's gonna be okay."

He looks at her for a moment, hesitating, hovering over something else he wants to say.

"And I know all this, Sarah Cameron, because I love you. And loving you is by far the best thing I've ever done. Loving you means everything is going to be okay."

His heart pounds in his chest, unsure if this was the right time, the right place to say it. But he knows he needs to. He can't keep it in any longer. He can't pretend it's not real.

He needn't have worried however. Eyes shining, mouth breaking into a wide smile, she flings her arms around his neck, clutching him tightly.

"I love you John B. I love you so much."

His mouth descends on hers before he can process what she's said. Nothing else matters right now, other than his need to be on her, around, in her. She is golden to him, a promise of a life he never thought he could have. She is . . . . Sarah Cameron. And she loves him. And that is more than enough for him.

Her mouth is hot on his, insistent, desperately probing him with her tongue. John allows her entry, feeling her tongue engage in a dance with his own. Her lips are pillow-soft, moving against his in a way that feels like molten lava is burning him up from the inside. He knows he will never get enough of this.

Her hands go to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair and tugging him closer to her. He lifts her up, muscles tightening as he places her on the counter, so her face meets his own. They are even, partners, both on the same level. The class differences of Kooks and Pogues is in the rear-view mirror for them.

She opens her legs, allowing him to step into between them. He knows she can feel his desire, pressed up against her as he is. Their kisses turn more insistent, and he grabs her face, noses touching, and kissing her like his life depends upon it. She begins unbuttoning his shirt, frantically trying to run her hands over his impossible abs. She looks like a girl on fire, the hunger for him flaring in her eyes.

As she reaches for the buttons on his pants, he pulls back slightly, his hands never leaving her body.

"Sarah, are you sure? I know we've done this before, but I just need to ask. I'll always ask you."

She looks at him like he is the only person in the world.

"Yes, I'm sure. Now take me to bed John B."

He picks her up, mouth never leaving her skin, and smiles to himself at the success of the day.

They had found an island to make their own, and hopefully, the beginnings of a plan as well.