So...I went to Crete a couple of weeks ago, and whenever I travel, writing seems to be so much easier, and then the idea of the following story just kind of popped in my head and I wrote it out.

Which leads me to the logical and inevitable conclusion that if you guys want me to continue writing doccubus fics, you should all really fund my travel!

I'll open up a thing for that, shall I?

Haha! Just kidding. ;-)

I usually write very long stories, but this is a short one: seven chapters, an epilogue and then that's it! I can say that, cause for once in my life I've actually finished a story, so I know how long it is! Yay me!:-) The story was supposed to just be a holiday romance, very low on plot lines and twists and turns, but then I complicated things for myself by weaving two stories into one, and adding a little twist at the end. I suppose I just can't help myself! :-)

Bo in this story is modeled more to my own way of thinking and interests. Obviously, I don't share her dress sense, and would not be able to pull off the outfits she wears. I'm cute, but not Bo gorgeous. ;-) Anyways, all of these changes because it made it easier on me to write this story. All of the places Bo takes Lauren are the places I visited when I was in Crete.

I also experimented with Lauren's character a bit; she's a successful actress in this version of Bo and Lo, a bit more in tune and outward with her feeling than lovable Dr. Lewis, but in essence still the same intelligent, passionate, adorkable person.

Oo, also...there's a bit of French in this fic...for anyone wondering who does not speak French, it's the French version of the "Hail Mary" prayer.

Cretan Holiday

Chapter 1

Lauren Lewis boarded the Airbus A321 flying from Toronto to Munich at half past six and nestled herself into her window seat. She listened to the Captain's announcements and the flight safety measures explained by the flight attendants before looking around taking in all the people on this plane with her. Lauren Lewis was a frequent flyer; her job often sent her towards locations and shoots across the country, but it was rare that she took the plane to go on vacation like she was today.

Well, the word 'vacation' was debatable. Lauren had been cast for a new movie and as sort of a perk, and work thing all wrapped in one, the production had offered up a week in a luxury hotel in Crete. The only obligation was near the end of the week; a pre-production meeting for the financers she, along with the director and a couple of other actors was obligated to attend.

At first, Lauren had been reluctant to go. "Rachel" as the movie was called wouldn't start filming for a couple of months and Lauren always had a busy schedule. There were scripts to read, projects that needed her oversight, roles to audition for and publicity obligations to attend.

And honestly, Lauren had seen this vacation as an interruption of her routine and her work ethic. It was Lauren's mother and sister who had talked her into going: Mabel Lewis by suggesting in her usual warm and motherly tone that a week away might do her a world of good and her sister Tamsin by saying that it would perhaps "dislodge that large stick up Lauren's ass since she hadn't been gettin' any."

Flying as often as she did, Lauren had picked up the peculiar habit of looking at everyone around her and imagining a plane crash, imagining that these people could be the last people she'd ever see. It was a routine that she oddly enough didn't find morbid at all, it was just a thing her overactive imagination had tricked her into doing after watching one too many disaster movies and Air Crash Investigation episodes.

The thirteen hour flight would carry Lauren from chilly Toronto to windy Munich for a layover and then to sunny, hot Crete for her final destination. Everything she needed to keep herself entertained during that time was safely stowed away in her backpack under the seat in front of her including: a couple of Fiji water bottles, a neck pillow, her iPhone, some mints, her laptop, a couple of travel guides, some sudokus and a copy of the book the movie she was in, was based on.

Yup, Lauren was all set, and happy; she was just waiting for the flight attendants to come by and give her a nice drink with some ice cubes in it so she could watch the cubes melt in the drink. There was something about heat causing molecules inside ice to start moving faster so that they broke the hydrogen bonds that got Lauren's geek on, and made her want to exclaim "Neat!" out loud. After the drink she could get started on reading or doing some sudoku puzzles, anything really to keep her from falling asleep on the plane. Lauren wasn't afraid to fall asleep out of a fear of flying or missing out or something, but the last time she had fallen asleep on a plane, she'd woken up drooling on the shoulder of the elderly lady sitting next to her. The lady had been asleep too, but it had still been embarrassing. The time before that she'd been so tired that she'd fallen asleep almost instantly after drinks had been served. The sudden loss of muscle control as sleep took her, made Lauren's hold on her glass slip and when the person directly behind her suddenly let out a loud gutteral noice, Lauren screeched and bolted upright launching her drink up in the air, the liquid content showering much of the row in front of her, while the two unfortunate souls that were sitting next to her were pelted with ice cubes. The time before that Lauren had woken up playing naked footsie with a guy whose feet looked like those of Frodo or Samwise Gamgee after their trek through the marshes. All in all, Lauren hadn't had a good track record with falling asleep on planes, so she just kind of avoided it. Lauren also tended to shy away from airplane bathrooms. On several occasions she had managed to lock herself up in them having to ask for assistance from the flight crew to get her out. Those locks sure were tricky at times.

Still, Lauren liked to fly, loved to travel, even if it was just being en route it instilled her with a sense of freedom, like the world was hers to explore, so for the first half an hour to forty-five minutes or so, Lauren just stared out of her window enjoying feeling the powerful machine under her take off, then seeing the landscape grow ever smaller until finally they were flying through and above the clouds. With a smile on her face, Lauren marveled at the sights until her reverie was broken by the flight attendants serving up hot meals. It was another good hour after that Lauren was torn between perusing through the travel guides she had brought with her or the book she needed to read. It was tempting to go for the travel guides because Lauren had only decided to come to Crete very last minute and she hadn't had the chance to read up on the island. Also, she wasn't sure she was in the right mood to start on this book Rachel. As was the case with every role Lauren took on, she wanted to give it her all, immerse herself into the part and she knew, given the story line of the book, this role and immersing herself into it wasn't going to be easy.

Lauren was to play the best friend and love interest of the lead: Rachel, a young woman full of life in a time when Nazi Germany settled its claws in western Europe. It was the story of a love that would never be forgotten, one that touched the main character so deeply it shaped who she was. Lauren liked these types of stories, those that dealt with the human condition, of human connection and how it could change a person. It was what had drawn her to acting in the first place. the story was great, the character she got to play fascinating, but it wasn't exactly going to be light reading.

Light reading or not, Lauren's work ethic pushed her towards what she usually did, work and so as the lights of the Boeing 747 cabin dimmed, Lauren started leafing to the first pages of the book.

Rachel

Chapter 1

September 1933

The year was 1933 when I sat straight on my chair behind my desk. Eight pencils, perfectly sharpened, two erasers in a richly decorated wooden pencil case I got from my dad last winter, and two notebooks perfectly covered by my mom were neatly placed in front of me. I wanted a front row seat, not out of a studious impulse per sé, but I was near sighted; I needed glasses and a good seat to see the teacher and what was being written on the black board. The classroom was one of the larger ones, big windows to the left that let in natural sunlight and cupboards to the right that reached up to shoulder height with another set of windows above them that let in light from the corridors. The room was a good ten by seven meters, the floor was a yellowish color that would blend excellently with vomit if anyone would ever get sick; and sturdy oak desks for two that had years worth of gum sticking under them were neatly arranged in three columns and five rows.

There was more than enough room to house the roughly twenty-five pupils that had all elected to study Greek and Latin, yet the imposing figure of Soeur Mathilda, clad in her black habit that strained in the chest area, at the head of the classroom made the space feel small and confiding in my eyes. Her piercing green eyes skitted across the room as if she saw everything, as if she could see mischief that hadn't even been conceived of. It was only later that I would find out that that look she wore, the disapproving one, the one that made you realize you were only ever a second away from being berated, was a constant for her.

However intimidating Soeur Matilda was, she was not the reason I was nervous. I always did well academically, I always got along with the teachers, with the Mères and/or the Soeurs. It was a simple matter of replying with two words, of being respectful and do what they asked of you, and when you did, you got that same respect given back to you mostly. It was easy, but this was the first day of school at a new school, a bigger school; Marche-les-dames had over five hundred pupils, bigger kids. Most of all I was nervous about fitting in, finding friends here, maybe even finding something I had never found until then, a best friend.

My nervousness, however, never kept my curiosity from surfacing, so as the classroom slowly started filtering in with my new classmates and Soeur Matilda's loud booming voice droned out assigning seats to everyone, I began observing the room.

I once read that humans tend to catalogue other humans in a split of a second. The reptilian part of our brain compelling us to ask three basic questions: can I mate with this person, is this person a threat, and is this person above or below me in social standing? My twelve-year-old reptilian brain never asked me the sex question, and in all honesty, in all the years since it never has, but I believe there is truth in those other two questions.

It is instinct, is it not? To wonder about others, compare? To assess a risk?

Why else would I have found Soeur Mathilda intimidating? Why else would I have scanned the room and seen other girls; better dressed than me, prettier than me, why else would I have wondered if they were smarter than I was? Wondered if they could be my friend, if I would be acceptable to them?

It's instinct, a reaction we share with other animals. It's also a reaction most people have learned to suppress, a trigger of the deepest parts of our brain our more sophisticated brain has learnt to pull a veil over.

It's strange to think that most people now live thinking that what hides beneath the veil does not exist.

I never thought Rachel would turn out to be that best friend I was looking for. Her dark blonde hair, delicate features, her beautiful smile, her giddy personality instantly made me think she was far too popular for 'eight perfectly sharpened pencils and huge glasses, sits in the front row' me to ever be more than a blimp on her radar, and perhaps that would have been all we would ever be to one another if Soeur Matilda hadn't decided to put her next to me on the front row and told us we were to sit like this in class for the rest of the year.

I gave her a pencil from my extensive collection that day. The red one. She gave me a smirk; the kind that opened up her features to me those hazel eyes she had that sparkled, the long dark blonde locks that framed her kind, open face, and a rather long, slender nose that gave her an air of sophistication. Even at that age Rachel had an elegance about her, a very feminine way of holding herself as if at any moment photographers could pop out of the ground like tulips and snatch pictures of her, but her grace was never arrogance or attitude; it was a natural confidence I found intriguing.

I remember thinking she probably thought I was the biggest nerd in the class. I don't remember what else I said to her or if we laughed together on that first day like we would later on so much and so loudly it always drew questioning glances from people around us.

What I remember was the loud voice of Soeur Mathilda as she started the prayer that we would drone out three times per day before classes started; after lunch and at the start of the last period, and how that prayer started sounding as a chant as the rest of the class picked up on it.

Je vous salue, Marie pleine de grâce ;
Le Seigneur est avec vous.
Vous êtes bénie entre toutes les femmes
Et Jésus, le fruit de vos entrailles, est béni.
Sainte Marie, Mère de Dieu,
Priez pour nous pauvres pécheurs,
Maintenant et à l'heure de notre mort.

That staccato rhythm that seemed to echo in my eardrums between the four walls of my class faded and blended into the taunts and the laughter pounding my ears between a different double pair of walls. My knees hit the floor, chafing and bruising. My glasses flew from my nose. Out of reach. All I could see were blurs of dark blue uniform around me. I hated the smell of the school lavatories, and that stench now soaked into my nose as my head was being pushed hard against the greasy floor beneath me. I struggled against the knee in my back and the hand that kept me flattened to the floor as if I was the mop they were using to wipe the floor with. My entire body was tense with rage, my face flustered with it, but there was nothing I could do. The person on my back was larger than I was, bigger, heavier, and the more I struggled the louder the taunts became, the louder the laughter became. By this time I didn't know how many people were gathered around me, but I knew it was more than the three girls that had originally cornered me, had started shoving me, had tripped me. I could tell by the way the blur of dark blue uniforms kept growing bigger in front of me.

"FOUR EYES!"

"HAHAHAHA!"

"NERD!"

Then there was the sound of something crunching and snapping beneath a foot and I instantly knew that was the sound of my glasses snapping. I only had one pair, and that made me angrier still, so angry, so helpless that I felt tears spring from my eyes. All I could hope for was that one of the teachers would spot us, but that thought was quickly squashed when next the content of my backpack was being spilled next to my ear. By the way it clanged to the floor, I knew it was the pencil case my dad had given me that broke on impact.

"WHAT A SPASS!"

"WHAT A LOSER!"

There was a kerfuffle behind me and suddenly the weight on my back was lifted. I scrambled to my feet, ready to jump on the girls that jumped on me, but without my glasses I was pretty much blind, and there were so many people around me. Who was I going to lunge at? I didn't want to jump the person that just saved me. Tears started pooling in my eyes again at how helpless I was, how humiliated I felt, and I didn't want to give my bullies the gratification knowing they got to me, so instead of taking revenge, I said nothing, did nothing but stumble about looking for my things. My backpack was easiest to spot, someone handed me my glasses. I didn't bother with the rest and just ran off and out of the lavatory straight to my room.

I cried myself to sleep that night. For once I was glad that I was 'privileged', that my parents had paid for a separate room. I don't think I could have handled sleeping in the dorm room with a few hundred other girls like most girls did then. Walking back into class the following morning, my glasses sat perched crooked on my nose; the tip of one ear had been bent out of place and one of the glasses had come loose, out of its socket and had actually cracked. I had used scotch tape to keep the glass in its place. I looked stupid, even more of a nerd with the glasses like they were now, but I didn't have a choice, I only had one pair. Luckily, I wouldn't have to wear that pair long; I'd already gone to the principal's, Mère Supérieure's office before class, to ask her to contact my parents for me so that they could get me a new pair of glasses to replace the pair that I had accidentally stepped on. But, I was still reeling from the day before, angry at what those girls from my class, I knew them all by name: Margot, Arlette and Hélène- had done. I tried to look every single one of them in the eye with as much gall and defiance as I could muster as I made my way to my front row seat. Margot, the packleader turned away from my gaze, too cowardly to meet my eyes or too bitchy to do it. The two others followed suit. If any of them had laughed, I know I would have punched them right then and there.

When I got to my seat, I noticed the pencil case my dad had bought me, sitting on my desk.I dropped my backpack next to my desk and slid into my seat. I stared at it frowning. The day before I had heard it break, and I had left it behind.

Here it sat, repaired?

There were eight pencils inside, a little shorter than before, but perfectly sharpened.

Who could have repaired it, and then took the time to put it here, sharpen my pencils again?

"Margot is a bitch," Rachel said announcing herself, her figure gracefully sliding into the seat next to me. "Her mother and father are getting a divorce and she likes channeling her frustration with her fists."

I blinked, looked between the pencil case and Rachel.

"Did you..?"

"Punch her lights out?"

"Repair this?"

Rachel shrugged. "It was just one of the hinges that had come loose. I asked Soeur Renilde for a small screw driver."

"Thank you," I said, turned my head smiling at Rachel and then noticed a cut right above her eye. "I'm Mary," I said holding out my hand to her. "Mary Jasper."

1933 was the year I met my best friend; the year I met an incredible human being whose compassion, strength and heart I would always be in awe of. 1933 was also the year that a man in a neighbouring country with very different views on life and values than two school girls, was elected as Reichs Kanzler. It was the year where everything in Europe would slowly start changing; where hate campaigns in Germany against Jews slowly started to dehumanize them. It was a hate that would sweep over Europe and irrevocallly change all of us.

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Day One

Lauren exited the airport in Iraklion, there was just one door to the exit and the exit hall was just a small room, no more than five by eight meters so it didn't take long for Lauren to spot her name scribbled down on a sign. Struggling with her bags, Lauren wasn't really paying attention to her surroundings or the person holding up the sign.

"Let me help you with that," a voice said to her in perfect English. Lauren looked up from her dropped bags. Her heart skipped a beat, she blinked as if to assure herself what she was seeing was really there. Looking at her with a dimpled smile was the most beautiful woman Lauren had ever seen: dark hair, dark chocolate eyes you could get lost in, dressed in black, mostly leather and some part of Lauren's brain registered that it was an odd choice for a place like Crete, but Lauren's brain mostly shouted "Holy Hot Mackerel!" her eyes clinging to the woman's shapely form like the leather clung to the woman.

Holy Hot Mackerel would to some people be considered an odd expression to use, but Lauren had always loved odd words, and old expressions. As a child, she would collect them in her diary and Hot Mackerel was one of Lauren's favorites, only to be used for special occasions!

Bo pressed her hand to Lauren's. Lauren's stomach flipped, her arm puckered in goosebumps.

"Lauren Lewis? I'm Bo McCorrigan. Welcome to Crete. The car is just opposite the road," Lauren smiled liking the sound of Bo's voice. It was somewhere in the mid registers, not too high or low, soft but confident at the same time.

Bo grabbed the heaviest bag lauren had with her and slung it over her shoulder as she moved out of the airport. As soon as they exited the building, Lauren smiled wide. Blue skies, bright sun, and the air had that salty, sweltering feel to it that Lauren liked. The kind that let you know you were near the sea, near sand, cocktails and a general good time.

Lauren had missed traveling she realised, being on vacation, away from her usual surroundings. No stress, no deadlines, no...

HOOOONK!

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"So, what would you like to do on your first day of Crete?" Bo asked when the pair were seated in Bo's white and tan Jeep. A twotone and a car Lauren thought suited the brunette. Bo looked like the adventurous type, like she could take you out for a crocodile hunt, only to come back later, and take you out for a swanky night of clubbing. Also, the white contrasted nicely with Bo's outfit.

Lauren frowned at the question. Wasn't Bo simply there to drive her to her hotel?

"I uhm... go to the hotel?"

"Oh, they didn't tell you?" the gorgeous brunette asked glancing over. "Your room won't be available until tonight, I'm afraid you're stuck with me for the day."

Lauren frowned. However beautiful and intriguing this woman was- and she was cause Lauren had started wondering in earnest if Bo knew anything about crocodile hunting- Lauren's flight over had been long and tiring, and she had been looking forward to taking a shower, changing clothes and then exploring the hotel a bit before getting started on her reading for the week.

"You probably wanted a shower and a change of clothes," Bo said as if picking up on her thoughts. "So I thought I could swing you by Dyson's place for just that. It's only a twenty minute drive and then we can get started on that tour."

Lauren had no clue who Dyson was, no clue where anything was on this island, and no sure way of knowing if what Bo was telling her was true. Lauren wasn't a mistrusting person, but all of these things she didn't know made her feel a little weary. Cause Lauren had seen Silence of the Lambs and what not, and that movie still scared the bejeezes out of her. Or like Psycho. Okay, she hadn't actually seen Psycho, only the trailers, but that was more than enough.

"And who's Dyson? I thought the hotel sent you?"

"Dyson is the boss," Bo replied with a warm, dimpled smile that for some reason alleviated most of Lauren's unease.

"He has a contract with the hotel you're staying at, picking up their guests, driving them around, showing them the island if they want. I'm filling in for him today. He puts up his place for guests like you. Ehm, where the hotel isn't able to put you up yet, I mean."

Lauren nodded.

"His place is nice. Has a pool and everything if you just want to spend the day there relaxing."

"In his house?" the blonde asked and Bo could hear the lingering apprehension in Lauren's voice.

"He's out of town for a few days," Bo said to put the woman next to her at ease."Large house, bachelor pad really," Bo continued with an amused roll of her eyes.

"On vacation? Cause that'd be ironic," Lauren commented making Bo chuckle out loud.

"A shower would be nice." Lauren said after a moment. Bo smiled. The rest of the fifteen minute drive was spent in silence mostly with Lauren finding herself sneaking peaks and glances at the woman next to her. Deep brown chocolate eyes, a chiseled jaw, full lips, dark luscious hair that fell in waves over her shoulders, not to mention the body. Lauren was a boob girl, there was no denying it and the blonde didn't know whether it was from the lack of sleep on the plane, the salt in the air here or the bright sun, or the fact that Lauren was finally on vacation when she hadn't had a vacation in years, or the fact that she hadn't been laid in over two years, but Lauren felt a little lightheaded and she had serious trouble peeling her eyes away from Bo's chest area.

Lauren shook her head in silent self-beratement. After all, gorgeous women like this Greek Goddess Bo, Lauren knew had a 94% chance of being straight and a 98% chance of being straight and off the market, so there really was no reason to drool over the brunette.

Dyson's house was on the beach, modern and large, but not cold like Lauren thought modern homes could so easily be. This house had an enormous amount of light streaming in, it had been built to take in its environment. The materials used were all high end, quality. Dyson had good taste. Bo showed her to one of the rooms with ensuite and informed her she could use that one, it was one of four guest rooms and no one was using it.

"When you're done, I'll be out by the pool and you can tell me your plans."

Lauren smiled when Bo smiled and winked at her. Bo had a charm about her that was hard to miss. After a quick shower, Lauren put on her vacation outfit: short green shorts, a white t-shirt and comfortable shoes. Nothing fancy, an outfit fit for the climate and whatever adventure Bo had in store? One quick, self-conscious glance in the mirror and Lauren left the room.

Dyson's garden was a nice size as wide as the stand alone villa was and about two times as deep. The pool and and the deck with a large wooden table and chairs were adjacent to the house, while the end of the garden tapered off into a view of sand and ocean. For a moment laying by the pool and perhaps going to the beach later on did seem like a great way to spend her afternoon, but then Lauren's eyes landed on Bo. Sitting at the table, behind her laptop, the brunette was concentrated on the screen in front of her typing away fiercely, almost tensely her lip pulled slightly between her teeth, and Lauren for some reason or another found the sight endearing.

"Hey," Lauren said announcing her presence.

"Hey you," Bo replied looking up instantly and flashing Lauren her 100.000 watt smile. All the tension from Bo's face instantly disappeared, and Lauren liked Bo's smile even more than the cute concentrated look.

"Show me around?" Bo smiled even wider.

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"Where off to Lauren?" Bo asked seated in her Jeep. Do you want culture, history, beach, walking,..?

"It's my first time in Greece. I promised myself I'd at least get some of the historic sites in, " Lauren replied feeling herself getting genuinely excited at the prospect of a guided tour.

"Knossos, Malia, Kato Zakros or Gournia are all good places for that." Bo responded.

Lauren only recognised one of those names from her history classes a long time ago. "Knossos, I suppose?"

Bo nodded. "Knossos is great. Must see when in Crete. Very busy in the summer, but manageable now."

"What would you recommend?" Lauren had sensed a but in Bo's comment and if Bo knew all the sights here as well as she did, why would Lauren not take advantage of that knowledge?

"Knossos is fantastic, but it's the largest of the four Minoan palaces on Crete. If you're only wanting to visit one, then pick that one, but if you're really interested, you might start with one of the smaller ones and work yourself up that way. You'll get a better grasp of the culture and the way the Minoans built, and I think it'll make you appreciate Knossos more when you visit it afterwards."

Lauren nodded, she had only promised herself a few tourist destinations this vacation, but the thought of doing more now was sounding a lot more appealing by the minute.

"Okay, where should I start?" Lauren asked with a soft smile.

"I'll take you to Gournia," Bo replied after a thoughtful pause. It's in the east of Crete, not that far out, great view and they excavated a little town right next to the palace, so you get to see how the workers lived too." Within fifteen minutes, the both of them were driving down the Voax, the main highway for Crete as it spiraled the coast line between the mountain range bringing one magnificent view into view after the other. Lauren was ooing and awing as they went and Bo simply smiled.

When they arrived at Gournia, they parked the car just in the dirt road next to the open archeological site, it was a small side street of the main highway with those views lauren had so enjoyed. The entrance fee was a mere six Euros and Lauren started listening attentively when Bo started telling her about the site. When it was first discovered, who discovered it, what the significance was. Lauren knew a little about Minoan culture, how in the Bronze Age it was the first advanced civilization, but not much else. Lauren was a fact geek. She loved reading all the signs at places like this, but with Bo by her side, she felt she didn't need to. Bo was a great guide, she really had a talent Lauren thought bringing history back to life with her enthused stories and her interesting and funny anecdotes. The blonde had, surprisingly, somewhat relaxed around Bo. Oh, Lauren was still all kinds of flustered, but she could simply listen to the lovely timbre of Bo's voice, ask questions, and their conversation naturally flowed from there.

Bo, on her part, remarked how interested Lauren was listening to her and how when they moved away from Minoan history 101 to step into the archeological site itself, Lauren tried to navigate her way through the ruins tilting the map in her hand left, right, and upside down, obviously concentrating hard if the deep frown was an indication. Bo thought Lauren was adorable, and she smiled. The pair of them explored the ruins for a couple of hours amazed at what had been preserved and giving life to the town under their feet in their imaginings. Sometimes they would wonder off in different directions to take picturs or a closer look at something, but most of all they stayed together and simply talked lightly. The hours passed quickly as Bo was a great guide. Had Lauren already mentioned that? Also, Lauren thought Bo was great company; informed, pleasant, funny and gorgeous. Not that the gorgeous was at all important, mostly cause she obviously wasn't single, but it was quite obvious to see, so Lauren found it important to mention.

When the day drew to a close and Bo was only a few kilometers from Lauren's hotel, Lauren found herself regretting the day was over. She'd had a really nice time, she didn't want it to end, she wanted to stay in Bo's Jeep and drive off to the next adventure -or into the sunset?- with the gorgeous brunette, but she voiced none of that. In fact, Bo was already helping Lauren with her luggage -which Lauren thought was incredibly sweet- when Lauren finally found her voice, deciding to be bold.

"So... now that I've done Gournia, what's your next suggestion?"

"Are you asking me if you're ready for Knossos?"

"Yes, that's what I'm asking." Lauren said, her nerves showing as she involuntarily swallowed.

"I think you should see Malia and Phaistos before Knossos still, and then the archeological museum in Iraklion." Bo replied after a thoughtful pause.

"Are you for hire, Bo? Lauren asked. "As a guide I mean!" Lauren squeaked out horrified as she saw Bo's eyebrows raise at the question and then suddenly realized how her question could be misconstrued. Gods, Lewis! Did you really just suggest this Greek Goddess was for hire like some sort of common woman of the night?

"I mean,..are you free to be my guide tomorrow in the afternoon? Lauren further amended her statement, desperate to talk her way out of her own mess. I mean, that is what you do.. You uhm show people around for a living...and uhm perhaps sometimes they pay you to uhm... " Lauren mumbled. "Uhm..show them something... "

"Show them something?" Bo repeated raising an amused brow.

"I uh, I mean... uh the sights...!" Lauren stuttered. The sights of what? Bo's luscious curves! Gods, Lauren! "Of the island! The sights of the island!" Lauren almost yelped out.

Bo smiled widely, she was still highly amused at the blonde's verbal fumble, but curbed her grin to spare the blonde more embarrassment. Bo had had a really good time with Lauren today; the blonde was funny and sweet, and utterly adorable, and she hadn't wanted the day to end.

"Well, I have some people to drive around in the morning, but so far my afternoon is clear," Bo smiled after a pause. "What time would you like me to pick you up?"

Lauren internally fist pumped at Bo's reply. Go, Lewis! she thought and grinned. And then when Lauren should have really stopped grinning and looking at Bo, she was still grinning.

"Uhm, Lauren?" Bo verbally prompted at which Lauren's brain switched into gear and out of staring.

"That's perfection!" Lauren blurted out before she could stop herself, and inwardly immediately cringed. That's perfection? Great, fine, excellent, good,...any of those adjectives weren't good enough? You needed to go with 'perfection'?

"Uh, Lauren? You didn't really answer my question."

"Sorry uh..." Lauren blinked. What was the question?" Lauren asked confused.

"What time shall I pick you up?" Bo asked again managing to stifle a laugh.

"Around 1pm."

"Sounds like perfection," Bo couldn't help but tease to which made Lauren blush and smile awkwardly down staring at her shoes. Again Bo thought Lauren was utterly adorable.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Lauren." Bo said warmly. "Goodnight."

"Good..." Lauren dared look back up still feeling shy but smiling a little at Bo's warm tone, and the way her name rolled off of Bo's tongue. "Goodnight..Bo." Lauren mumbled out.

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When Lauren pushed open the door to her hotel room, she had a wide grin on her face. Yes, she'd been a total spass asking to meet up with Bo the following day, but she'd done it, and Bo had said yes, and that had made it all worthwhile. As Lauren pushed her frame into the hotel room the lights automatically flickered on revealing a spacious, luxurious and modern bedroom with a kingsize bed, a nook to watch TV in and a good size desk she could work at. The walls were white, simple and she liked the wooden floor under her feet. To the far end of the room there was a sliding door as high and wide as her room was. When she walked up to it, she found the sliding door led to her own private deck with a whirlpool and a pair of elegant and comfortable looking lounge chairs. A few feet behind the deck, there was sand and then the vastness of ocean blue. It was a stunning view. When she explored further she found the bathroom too was nothing but good taste, and quality materials with travertine tiles and white marble vanities.

Wow! Lauren thought. When the studio puts you up, they sure don't skimp on the budget.

The hotel staff had already brought up her luggage so Lauren began putting her clothes away in the closets provided. When she was done with that, Lauren went for the backpack she'd brought along as handluggage on the plane. She quickly took out her cellphone and the book she had started reading on the plane. She typed out two messages; one to her sister and one to her mom. When she landed and Bo and her were securely settled in Bo's jeep, Lauren had both sent them a text reassuring them she had landed safely, and that a leather-clad dark haired, beautiful guide had been there to pick her up. Her mother had replied just by sending a thumbs up emoticon, Tamsin sent "Don't drop your panties on the first date!" All too aware of Lauren's type.

Now Lauren was letting Tamsin and Mabel know what a great day she had had with Bo. Her mother again answered with a single emoticon, a heart, 3 of them. Mabel Lewis would talk your ear off in conversation, but she was sparse in texting and fond of emoticons. Tamsin texted: "On second thought, do drop your knickers on the first date!" Lauren laughed at Tamsin's text and put her phone away. It was a little over 11pm, time for bed, but Lauren was still too awake to simply go to sleep, so she reached for the book in her backpack again, and put it on the nightstand next to her bed.

Ten minutes later and Lauren's teeth had been brushed, she'd freshened herself up and was ready for bed. With a happy sigh she fell back into the exceptionally comfortable pillows and softness of the bed. She reached for the book on the nightstand, and leafed to the page she had gotten to on the plane. After some twenty minutes of reading, Lauren felt her eyes starting to droop; she put the book on the nightstand, and turned off the light. She'd continue reading in the morning, she thought and then closed her eyes. Her last fleeting thoughts for the day were of the hours she had spent with Bo and the gladness she felt at deciding to visit Crete.

End of chapter 1

What do you guys think? Should I continue, yay or nay?

The story is pretty much finished, just a couple of scenes I need to brush up. I'm thinking I can post a chap every week or so! :-)