Under the Stars, a mcleod’s daughters fanfic

A/N: Thank you so much to Lets Do That Again and Hibbidyhai from my critique group for all your feedback.

Writing and Junk prompt: Theme: Reunion. Every parting gives a foretaste of death, every reunion a hint of the resurrection. — Arthur Schopenhauer

The small box sears a hole through Brick's front pocket as he leans against the passenger window, drinking in Drover's Run like ice-cold beer after a long day mustering cattle. He's never been one for poetry, which always feels like people talking in riddles instead of saying what they mean. But after working interstate for so long, Gungellan makes his heart soar, and he doesn't think anyone but a poet could capture what makes it special.

The scorching sun beats down from an endless blue sky. The bumpy dirt road overlooks sloping hills dotted with majestic gum trees and grazing sheep. And somewhere, Becky is filling troughs or fixing broken machinery, blonde hair tied back beneath her hat.

A smile creeps across his face until it's so large, his cheeks hurt.

The car jolts as it hits a bump. His head bangs against the glass, and he winces as dull pain slaps at his temple. But he doesn't move away. What if he's looking elsewhere when Becky canters across the paddock, missing his first chance to see her again?

'You haven't been listening to a word I say, have you?' Alex demands from the driver's seat, but his amused tone steals the bite from the words. 'You're the worst hitchhiker I've ever met.'

Given some of the people around town, he doubts that. 'What does it say about you that you only just noticed?'

'Get away.' Alex's deep laugh fills the vehicle as they cross a small bridge. The sound of rushing water almost drowns out the creaking of the wooden planks. In the distance, the homestead sits atop a hill, peeking through a narrow gap in the trees. 'Next time, you can walk from the bus stop. See how mouthy you feel after a few hours in the sun.'

'There won't be a next time.' Ever since he left, he's been counting down the hours until he can lay under the stars with Becky again, holding hands and tracing constellations as the crickets sing. He's in no rush to go away again.

Alex's gaze bores into the back of Brick's head, as probing and insistent as a laser. 'You're young. You don't want to travel?'

'Not unless Becky comes with me.'

'You're not homesick,' Alex says slowly. Almost wondrously. 'You're lovesick.'

Brick shrugs. As far as he's concerned, love and sick don't belong in the same sentence, let alone the same word. His relationship with Becky doesn't weaken them, distracting them from work or stealing their independence. Instead, it frees them. He's a better person for knowing Becky, and he trusts that she would say the same. But he says nothing. Alex never dates anyone long-term, so to him, Brick's thoughts would sound like pretty nonsense. Gibberish.

The car accelerates — too much, probably, but Alex has always treated speed limits as suggestions. For once, Brick doesn't mind; the sooner they arrive, the better.

'She's been waiting for you, too,' Alex says. 'Mentions you all the time.'

He traces the outline of the box through the thin cotton. 'I know.'

After all, she said she would.

-x-

The sedan stops in front of Meg's veggie patch, cutting from sixty kilometres an hour to stationary in seconds and kicking up a cloud of dust. Leafy cabbages meld together into one long bush, and Brick can make out a row of carrot tops peeking out from the soil beyond. The produce has flourished in the two months he's been gone.

'Thanks for the lift.' He climbs out of the car, but his hand stills on the door when the engine shuts off behind him.

'I was coming to see Claire anyway,' Alex says, getting out as well and shooting Brick a smirk over the dusty black roof. 'You probably missed it while you were daydreaming, but we've gone into business together. And she's pregnant.' He hesitates, and his throat bobs when he swallows. 'With my child.'

'What — Oh.' Brick blinks. Alex and Claire have always been close; more than one shearer at Killarney has made crude comments where the Ryans can't hear. Maybe those rumours weren't as unfounded as he thought. That explains why Alex was in such a rush to get here. 'Congratulations. You must be excited.'

'Yeah, we are. Just don't mention the baby around Mum and Dad. They'll talk your ear off.'

Alex walks around to the back door, Brick trailing after him. He doubts Becky's inside at this time of day — doubts Claire is, either, even now she's pregnant — but Meg may know where to find her. Alex knocks and strolls inside, but before Brick can do the same, metal clangs against dirt and a voice screeches out his name.

'I can't believe you're here!' Jodi rushes forward and pulls him into a hug that has him stiffening. They've always been cordial but never been close, and it's weird to have her in his personal space like this. But like a leaf on the breeze, she's gone as quickly as she came, stepping backwards with a broad grin. An empty bucket lays on the driveway beside her. 'Becky's gonna freak. How was your flight? Did you buy' — she lowers her voice — 'the ring?'

'I did,' he says, because he knows that's the question she cares about. The one he cares about, too, in all honesty.

She clasps her hands together and grins. 'Well, what are you waiting for? Show me.'

His hand drifts to his pocket on instinct alone, but he doesn't take out the box. Part of him wants Becky to see it first; something special just for the two of them. But even though he knows Becky would appreciate any ring he gets her, he wants to make sure she'll like it. Jodi's more likely to give an unbiased opinion than Becky.

He glances around — no one's nearby, but that doesn't mean it'll stay that way. 'Where is she?'

'Fixing the boundary fence in the south paddock. Don't worry; she won't be back anytime soon.'

'Okay, then.' Brick pulls out the box and pries it open. The simple silver band holds three small diamonds that glitter in the midday sun, modest but beautiful, like their life together. The display case in the store near his uncle's farm boasted bulkier, more expensive rings, but the moment he laid eyes on this one, it called to him.

'Oh.' Jodi scrunches up her nose and her mouth twists to one side. 'That's very… thoughtful.'

Cold washes over him. If she liked it, she'd be squealing, not watching her words. He peers at the ring himself, trying to view it through Jodi's eyes. It isn't flash, but it's pretty, isn't it? 'Is something wrong? You said she likes diamonds.'

'She does. It's just… they're kind of small, aren't they?' She smiles brightly, equal parts smug and infatuated, and stretches out her left hand. 'When Alberto proposes to me, it'll be with a diamond as large as my knuckle.'

Becky doesn't want something like that, surely. A diamond that size would snag on everything, which would frustrate her. Besides, neither of them can afford it.

But what if Jodi's right? Maybe the ring isn't special enough, doesn't reflect their feelings enough — as hard as it is to imagine that when the diamonds reflect the sunlight so well.

Jodi seems to notice something in his expression. Her eyes widen, and she hastily adds, 'But that's just me. Becky will love anything you give her. Really.'

'Thanks,' he says flatly. But will she love the ring, or just who it's from? He snaps the lid closed and slips it back into his pocket. He should ask Tess instead. She likes fashion, if her fancy dresses and expensive jewellery are anything to go by, and she's probably worn more rings than he's ever seen.

At least he isn't planning to propose today anyway. He wants it to be something that will make them both glow with happiness when they tell their grandkids one day. A picnic in the national park, maybe. 'Can I borrow a horse?'

-x-

Brick's breath catches in his throat as the mare crests the hill. Golden grass sweeps down the slope, blades swaying in the humid breeze. A chestnut horse grazes a few steps away from the boundary fence, where Becky stands with her head bent, stringing up barbed wire between two wooden posts. Tingles shoot through his body and straight to his heels, and he presses them into the horse's side as he leans forward, urging her into a canter. Her hooves thunder across the hard ground, so fast that the grass and dirt and sky streak together like a toddler's water painting.

Becky glances up, gaze sweeping across the paddock, then freezes when she spots him. Pliers fall from her hand, and a broad smile breaks across her face, her eyes shining brighter than the sun and twice as lovely. He pulls the mare up metres away from her and slides to the ground. Before his feet even touch down, she's there, arms tight around his waist and head pressed into the crook of his neck. She smells like mud and engine oil, but he doesn't care because she's there and that's all that matters, and that's all that will ever matter, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for as long as blood pumps through his veins and maybe even longer.

His heart swells until it's fit to burst. He's heard of people dying from broken hearts, but never from an excess of love. But surely there's a point where the organ can't hold that much emotion and has to do something to get free. He wants to drop to one knee right then and there, but Jodi's words keep him from reaching into his pocket, and he can't very well propose without a ring. Instead, when he pulls back, he kisses Becky soundly before lifting her from the ground and spinning her around until her laughter startles a rainbow lorikeet from the tree.

'I missed you so much,' she says, face flushed as her feet touch down again. 'How's your uncle?'

'His leg's still causing him trouble, but he's back in the saddle. The doctor said the pain should go away in a few weeks.'

'That's good.' She bites her lip, eyes scanning the paddock as if she doesn't want to meet his gaze, as if there's something she doesn't want to say. This hesitation doesn't suit her the way her typical sharpshooting bluntness does. 'Do you think he'll need help again?'

'No. Bec, what's wrong?'

'Nothing.' Brick raises his eyebrow pointedly, and she laughs again as all signs of tension disappear from her face. 'Nothing anymore,' she amends. 'I'm glad you're home.'

'Me too.'

'I should get back to work,' Becky says reluctantly, then she steps backwards out of his embrace and retrieves the pliers from the ground. 'If I don't get this fence fixed, you'll spend your first night home rounding up stray sheep.'

'Can't have that.' He tucks his hands into his back pockets and rocks back on his heels. 'I've been dreaming of sleeping in my own bed for months.'

She's quiet, and at first, he thinks she's concentrating on work. But her shoulders are tense and her hands rest motionlessly on the fence, so she can't be distracted. Just as he starts to wonder if he should ask what's wrong, she says, 'You should talk to Harry about that. Jake's been staying in your old room, so he might give you different lodgings.'

'Oh.' His chest twinges painfully. Most of the lodgings at Killarney are identical, so there's no real difference if he has to move. That room is his, though, and losing it when he's only just got it back sits poorly in his gut. 'Is Jake a new station hand?'

'Yeah. You'll like him; he knows his job and he's really nice. He's been teaching me how to box.'

Becky mentioned learning to fight, but she never mentioned Jake. It's great that she feels comfortable enough with him for that, especially given how hard it's been for her to let people in since Brian assaulted her. 'If you like him, I'm sure I will too.'

-x-

'To Brick being back!' Alex exclaims, slinging an arm around Brick's shoulders and raising his bottle of beer in the air. Brick's neck burns as the toast echoes through the group and the sound of clinking bottles fills the veranda. Biting down his embarrassment, he takes a swig of his own drink, the bitterness soothing his discomfort like an old friend.

'To the best town in the world,' he retorts, setting off another round of cheers and clinking bottles. Lowering his voice, he turns to Nick, whose gaze is scouring the crowd intently. 'You didn't have to organise this, you know.'

'Nonsense.' Nick's eyes settle on something near the barbecue, and his expression warms for a moment before he turns to Brick. 'A bloke goes away, I reckon he needs a proper homecoming.'

It's still nice, even if coming home means picking out a new room and carting all his belongings over. Brick clamps Nick on the shoulder. 'Well, thank you.'

A teasing glint crosses Nick's eyes, one that's more at home on his brother's face but occasionally lights up his as well. 'Besides, it isn't all selfless. It's good to have you back; we'll need an extra pair of hands around here, especially with the baby coming.'

Ah, yes. Neither Alex nor Claire are the type to bludge, but their baby's going to take up a lot of time. Brick suspects both farms will need some extra help while they're finding their footing as parents. 'Looking forward to becoming an uncle?'

'You have no idea.' That glint grows stronger, like Nick knows something that Brick doesn't. No doubt Alex is terrified at the thought of fatherhood and Nick, like any brother, is in stitches just thinking about it. To be fair, even Brick finds it hard to picture Alex chasing after a little one, trying to stop him or her from taking the risks that Alex would have been all over as a kid. 'Here's hoping the baby takes after Claire.'

'Don't want him or her to inherit Alex's wild ways?' Brick asks.

All signs of mischief fade, darkening into something more aggressive, and Nick swirls his beer before downing a large mouthful. 'Something like that.'

Curiosity buzzes in Brick's gut like a bee, stinging and urging him to ask what that's supposed to mean, but Nick isn't one of his mates, he's the boss' son, and brotherly squabbles aren't any of Brick's business.

'I'll catch you later,' he says. 'I should go find Tess.'

'She's over by the barbecue.' Nick nods to where Tess and Claire are talking, both occasionally gesturing towards Claire's stomach.

Of course Nick was looking for Tess earlier, but that's not Brick's business either, so he just says, 'Cheers,' and wanders off towards the sisters. Stockmen and station hands stop him along the way to say hello, clasping him on the back and saying how much they've missed having him around, so what could have taken seconds winds up taking a good few minutes.

'You need to go in for a checkup,' Tess is insisting when he draws level with her.

'I've already had one. You were there,' Claire retorts, her blue eyes as adamant as steel in the flickering lamplight. 'The doctor said we're both fine, so there's nothing to worry about.'

'Checkups aren't a one and done thing, Claire.' Eyes fixing on Brick, Tess grabs his arm and pulls him into the firing line. 'Tell her, Brick. Going to the doctor is a normal part of pregnancy. We call the vet for pregnant livestock all the time.'

Brick glances between them. Their eyebrows are raised in matching expressions of expectation, on opposite sides of the argument but equally unwilling to concede, coloured with shades of Jack MacLeod's iron stubbornness.

'That is what I've heard,' he admits, grimacing as Claire huffs. 'I, er, actually wanted to ask you for advice, Tess. This looks like a bad time, though, so I'll come back later.'

'No, please, take her with you.' Claire flings her hands up into the air. 'Go give advice to someone who wants it.'

'Give us a few minutes. I'll find you soon,' Tess promises, her words ringing with a goodbye.

'Yeah, sure. Whenever you're ready.' His gut twists at the delay, but he ignores it as he turns and scans the gathering for someone else to talk to. Whether they talk now or in an hour or three makes no difference; it won't let him propose any sooner.

Near the screen door, Becky's leaning against the wall next to a man Brick has never met. Her face is alight with happiness as she talks, cheeks flushed the way they always get when she's passionate. She looks more relaxed and carefree than she has since she was a waitress, before Brian snuffed out that spark, and Brick's anxiety stills as his heart grows warm.

The stranger must be Jake. It's good that she's feeling confident and grounded enough not only to open up to new people, but also to let loose around them. Brick will have to buy Jake a beer sometime — without explaining why, of course. Brick starts forward, eager to meet his new coworker and talk to Becky properly, without a cold phone to his ear or a broken fence beckoning her.

But then his gaze falls on Jake, and he misses a step, his foot crashing hard to the ground. Jake's eyes shine as he watches Becky, his expression verging on awe. He says something that makes her laugh, and he grins as if it's his best accomplishment all day.

That isn't the way someone looks at a neighbour, or a boxing student, or even a friend. How she's acting around him isn't the way she interacts with just anyone, either. They look good together. Happy. As if they're the only two people on Earth.

If Brick weren't in the picture, it would be easy to imagine Jake swooping down to kiss the laughter from Becky's lips, and Becky reaching up to pull him closer, heedless of the people around them.

Bile rises in his throat, and he downs a swig of beer, but that just gives the bitter taste a metallic edge.

Brick knows Becky would never cheat. She said she would wait, and he has no doubt that she has. But it's easier for someone to control their body than it is to control their heart.

'Brick!' Tess exclaims, voice rising over the chatter. She steps in front of him, cutting off his view of the pair, and it takes a moment for his gaze to refocus. 'I think I've convinced Claire to go to town with me, but you know how she is. Anyway, you said you had a question.'

The ring box still rests in his pocket, but he can't bring himself to even say the word right now. 'Never mind. I've got it sorted.' His voice sounds flat even to him, and from the way her head tilts to the right, she clocks it too. 'That's great news about Claire.'

'Brick?'

Even through the noise, he hears her. Eyes fixed on him, Becky kicks off the wall and rushes over, almost bounding in her joy and seemingly unaware of the stricken look that suddenly darkens Jake's face. She stops beside Brick and slips her warm, calloused hand into his. 'Hey, Bec.'

'Come on over. You should meet Jake.'

-x-

Sitting cross-legged on the grass several metres away from the gathering, Brick taps his empty bottle against his calf and stares out at the wall of darkness. The noise of the party rumbles behind him, but he tunes it out.

Gungellan usually moves snail-slow. The townspeople resist change at every turn, so when it comes, it's slow and winding and easy to track. But in the past few months, that snail has become a tiger snake, striking out of nowhere with lightning-fast fangs. Alex and Claire are together and expecting a baby, Brick has changed lodgings, and Becky has moved — maybe not on, but away.

Quiet footsteps rustle the grass behind him. 'Is something wrong?' Becky asks. 'You've been acting strange all afternoon.'

He probably has, as hard as he tried to hide it. He caught the surprised glances she sent his way when he talked to Jake. But this isn't the time to explain the tension lurking behind his cordiality. 'I'm still getting used to being back.'

'What is there to get used to?' She lowers herself to the ground beside him, close enough that her thigh presses against his knee. Mere months ago, he would have savoured the contact, but now he has to strain not to put distance between them.

'Things have changed, that's all.'

Becky sighs and looks down at the place her hands sit in her lap, and he knows this is it. This is the moment when she admits how much Jake has come to mean to her, when she thanks Brick for luring her out of her shell after Brian's assault but says he isn't who she wants anymore.

After all, when he first realised he liked her, didn't he fear he wasn't her type? He's nothing like the bold, rowdy blokes she used to mess around with. Jake doesn't seem to be, either, but he's closer to it than Brick. Maybe time and distance has shown her that she can find a middle ground instead of going from one extreme to the other.

'Do you miss Queensland?' she asks. 'I'm sure your family wanted you to stay longer, and I know you came back anyway because of me. Do you regret it?'

'No.' If he's right about Becky and Jake, he'll fly back up there — he can't stay and watch the girl he loves fall for his coworker. But even if that's true, he won't regret coming back to see her, or the time they've spent together. 'You and Jake seem close.'

She shrugs. 'Most people in town still expect me to be the girl I was. He wasn't here back then, so he only sees who I am now. That's freeing.'

'You know I love you,' Brick says, and Becky's cheeks turn a faint pink. No matter how many times they say the words, whispered under a blanket of stars or over the phone, they thrill him every time. 'But if you don't want to be with me anymore, don't stay out of obligation.'

'What?' She spins to face him so suddenly that he leans back to avoid a collision. The dim glow of the distant light illuminates half of her face, leaving the other half encased in darkness.

'You don't... owe me anything.' He hates how ugly that sounds, but he doesn't know any other way to say it. Just because he stood by her doesn't mean she has to stay.

'Do you honestly think that's why I'm with you?' Becky demands, eyes narrowing. 'Gratitude?'

'I don't. But if you and Jake — '

'Jake? What does he have to do… ' She reels back as if he slapped her, her face bruising with indignation but also with something else that makes his stomach plummet. 'I can't believe you'd even think that. Of course I want to be with you. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here.'

'I know you wouldn't cheat,' he reassures her.

'Good.' Becky stands abruptly, and he knows his words were too little, too late. There must be some sort of string connecting them, because his heart tugs at her abrupt movement, and he reaches out to snag her hand. But at the last second, she moves her hand away to rub at her neck. Whether she's trying to ease sore muscles or avoid physical contact, he doesn't know, and it's hardly the time to ask. 'I'm glad you're back, but I'm tired, so I'm going to turn in. Have a great night.'

'I'll see you tomorrow?' he asks.

'I don't know. There's a lot of work to get through, and Claire hasn't been cleared to ride yet, so it's going to be a long day,' she replies flatly. 'I'll see you when I see you.'

He watches her walk back into the light, heading over to Jodi and Alberto before breaking away towards the parked cars out front. Sighing, he pulls out the ring box and opens it. His eyes strain to make it out through the darkness.

Maybe he put his foot in his mouth — the conversation could have gone better, at any rate. But he can't shake the look on her face when he mentioned Jake. Indignation, yes, and even anger, but also shame.

If she truly views Jake as a friend and neighbour, why does she feel guilty?

-x-

Brick sighs as he hoists a bale of hay into the truck. The blistering sun scorches the back of his neck, and his sweat-soaked shirt sticks to his skin, sticky and uncomfortable. Usually, he doesn't mind hard work — thrives on it, even. Nothing beats knocking off after a long day of working the land. But after three days without any contact with Becky, all he wants is to take a shower and ride over to see her. Ever since she walked away, the memory of how they left things has hung over him like a dark cloud.

'We're almost done, then we can rest during the drive,' Jake calls down from the back of the truck.

Flinching, Brick realises that Jake has stacked the bale on the others and is waiting for the next one. There's no hint of censure in his voice, just encouragement. Jake's a relentless worker, and good-natured enough that time passes quickly in his company. Apart from a few awkward moments when Jake mentioned Becky early on, the other station hand has avoided the topic altogether, stumbling over his words more than once to avoid her name.

Even with that cloud hanging over them, the pair make a good team. At least, they did until Brick got lost in his thoughts. 'Sorry. Just distracted.'

He grabs the next bale and passes it up for Jake to load.

'No problem. Becky didn't say much about your uncle, but it must have been a tough few months.'

'We got by.' Despite Jake's friendliness, the only thing worse than discussing family with him would be discussing Becky with him. 'Do you like Gungellan? It takes a while for the locals to warm up to newcomers.'

The corners of Jake's lips quirk up as Brick passes him the last bale. He slides it in before jumping from the truck and latching the doors shut. 'I think "outsiders" would be a better word.'

'Is there a difference?' Brick shoots back, and Jake's smile widens into a full-fledged grin. 'It feels like pulling teeth at first, but when they accept you, they have your back for life. You'll get there.'

-x-

Brick pulls up outside Becky's lodgings as the setting sun is painting the sky orange and gold. Light filters through the thin gaps around the edges of the door, sending his heart ricocheting inside his ribcage as violently and rapidly as a rattle manned by a toddler. They have to have this conversation, but that doesn't make it any less difficult to cut off the engine to his motorbike and take the handful of steps required to reach her door.

Hand raised to knock, he pauses to take a deep breath. His slow exhale does nothing to slow the intense drumming.

They can't keep up this silence any longer. He learnt better the last time they fought, after their disastrous first date. Too embarrassed to admit that she couldn't read, Becky avoided him like a chicken segregated to prevent Marek's disease, throwing a new work excuse at him each time he tried to bring up his letter. If they just spoke in person, everything could have been sorted out far quicker and with less emotional distress.

'I have a rifle pointed at the door!' Becky shouts through the door, sounding half-defiant, half-scared, and fully serious.

Brick can't help but laugh as the anxiety seeps from him, his heart settling back into its normal rhythm. Of course he'd come to bare his soul and Becky would assume he was an intruder. 'I know I messed up, but I didn't think it was that bad.'

Silence rings out, then Jodi's voice comes through the door. She's quiet enough that he suspects she's trying to whisper, though her voice carries through the thin walls. 'Do you want me to tell him to get lost?'

'No.' Becky opens the door in green flannel pyjamas with her hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Her eyes look tired, underlined by dark shadows as if she hasn't been sleeping. His stomach falls at the thought that it might be because of him. Behind Becky, Jodi glares at him with her arms crossed. 'Hey.'

Brick isn't an idiot; he can guess what they've been discussing, and where Jodi stands on the issue. Hopefully, Becky's more willing to hear him out. 'Hey.'

'Sorry, I didn't realise it was you when I…' She waves one hand through the air. 'Anyway, Jodi was about to leave.'

'No, I wasn't,' Jodi says, eyes widening. 'No fair. He gets here and I have to go?'

Rolling her eyes, Becky gently pushes her from the room. 'You'll be safe. You're literally going next door.'

When Jodi has left for her own room, Brick follows Becky inside. The room looks the same as it did before he left — her single bed, a fridge, a tiny dining table. No gun. 'You were lying about the rifle, weren't you?'

She huffs out a laugh and sinks into a chair, gesturing for Brick to take the other one. 'Claire keeps the guns in the main house, but Jodi and I were exchanging ghost stories to pass the time, so when you knocked…'

'I scared you.'

'Startled,' she corrects with a vague, tired smile.

Brick smiles back. Oddly enough, even though he spent the whole ride over here worrying about what to say, the words fall from his mouth as easily as overripe fruit. 'Well, I'm sorry for startling you — and for the other day. I should never have suggested you were with me out of gratitude. It wasn't fair on you.'

'No. You shouldn't have. But I wasn't fair to you, either.' Her gaze sidles off to the side before snapping back to his. She swallows heavily. Having this kind of conversation is new to both of them, Brick knows, but especially to her. Her parents' relationship was unhealthy, and one night stands aren't much help for talking through issues. 'I don't have a crush on Jake, but I've suspected for a while that he has one on me. Sometimes, he'll say something — nothing inappropriate, but it feels… I know how a guy looks when he's interested, you know? I'll pull away, and he'll tell me we're just friends and bring up his girlfriend in Fisher. But I can't shake the feeling that he's lying.'

'That's why you took it so hard when I mentioned Jake.'

'He really is a good friend, and I wanted to believe him so badly. So I convinced myself that he was telling the truth.' She scoffs, a harsh, bitter sound that feels odd in the cozy room. 'And that I was seeing what I expected to see. But when you came back and saw it too, I realised I was lying to myself and you.'

'So you panicked and flipped it back around on me?' he guesses.

'Yeah.' She reaches out for his hand, and after she refused him last time, he's never appreciated the gesture more. He strokes her knuckles absently. 'What happens now?'

He shrugs. 'He hasn't made a move on you, right?'

She shakes her head.

'Then does anything have to happen? You're friends, we're together, and he seems to respect that. As long as he doesn't try to act on his feelings, what he does or doesn't want is his business.'

'He knows that if he does, I'm gone.' Becky's grip tightens around Brick's hand in silent insistence, and he takes it as the promise it's offered as.

'You know, this fight went better than the last one,' he says with a grin. 'If we keep going at this rate, it won't take long until we just… deal with issues when they occur.'

-x-

The grass tickles the back of Brick's neck as he lies next to Becky. Crickets sing their mating calls and the Southern Cross twinkles in the dark night sky. His mother used to tell him how sailors used it to find their way at night, but for him, it isn't a guide but rather a reminder that he's exactly where he's meant to be.

He subtly pats the pocket of his jeans. The rigid edges of the box press through the fabric and push against his leg. He hasn't had the chance to talk to Tess, but he doesn't have to. This is between the two of them, not them and Tess or Jodi or Jake.

Standing up, he reaches out to pull Becky to her feet as well. Even after she steadies herself, he keeps her hands in his.

'Where are we going?' she asks, laughing.

'Nowhere.' In the drama of the past few days, the speech he practiced all the way from Brisbane has slipped his mind. But his heart supplies what his memory has forgotten. 'Becky, I'm not a psychic. I don't know what the future holds in a year or a decade or even an hour. But whatever comes, I want to be by your side. I want to turn to you when I'm happy or sad or confused, and I want to be that person for you too. I love you, and I'm going to love you every day for the rest of my life.'

Tears well in her eyes, and she sniffs as if she's fighting them back. 'Brick…'

He drops to one knee. When he pulls the ring box from his pocket, she blinks rapidly and wipes at her cheeks. 'Becky Howard, will you marry me?'

'Yes! Yes, of course I will.'

He slips the ring on her finger, but before he can rise to his feet, she joins him on the ground, kissing him before pulling away with a watery laugh.

'All I know about being a wife and a mother is what not to be,' she says, 'but I want to work it out with you. I love you.'