A/N

Annkathrin2511 Well, revealing how things will end would be telling! So, I guess you will just have to keep reading to find out. As for contraception... I doubt they are even thinking of that when they get their groove on :) Though there will be a scene in a later chapter dealing with the topic... somewhat.

\A/

"Well?" Archangel asked his assistant as they walked back to the helicopter.

"Things are evolving a lot faster than I'd anticipated. In fact, I have a feeling there's another element in play; an element that is completely nebulous to me."

Michael stopped dead in his tracks, forcing Marella to look back at him. He snapped his brows together. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I reckon it's a good thing. So was telling Hawke he shouldn't be with her. It will only make him more adamant. It will likely take a while before he will feel the need to push her away again."

"What do you recommend?"

"Leave them alone for a bit. As I expected, things have already become intimate between them. The fact that Dumaine nearly succeeded in killing Liona must have been enough for Hawke's defenses to lower to the point he realizes he wants her. More importantly, it made him act on it."

"Won't his, eh, issues, get in the way again?" Michael asked as they closed the last distance to the helicopter.

"They will. I'm sure of it. We need a catalyst that will make him consciously choose her. That's really what commitment is… a conscious decision. The pushing and pulling is merely Hawke acting on his fears, subconsciously choosing to avoid a real attachment."

"How do you propose we achieve that?"

Marella chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. "We have to make him fight for her. Nothing life threatening, just, an event that will make him see that if he doesn't act, he'll lose her. Perhaps you could offer her a job at the FIRM?"

That made Michael chuckle. "Only if you want to see me dead! No, I don't think that would be wise. I doubt Liona would consider working for us after what's she's been through with Dumaine. You must have seen her response when I asked her if she could save the data. No, the only way to get access to her particular skill set is through Hawke."

"It wouldn't necessarily have to be a job as a programmer," Marella suggested. "I'm sure we could find her something to do."

Michael shook his head. "Even if Liona would accept a position, I think Hawke would let her go and try to forget about her, considering what happened with Gabrielle. And he'd never forgive me for that. No, the threat can never be tied to me. Hawke is too stubborn to even want to see I'm trying to help him. All he will see is another betrayal."

"We have some time yet to think of something."

An enigmatic smile curved Michael's lips. "I think I have an idea. Make an appointment with Zeus for me. It's about time I confronted him with my suspicions about the real reason we don't get good intel on St. John."

"Sir?"

"Just leave it to me, Marella."

\A/

The sound of the helicopter leaving must have woken up Liona, because soon he heard noises coming from upstairs.

String walked around the kitchen table to lean back against the much larger one he used for dinner and looked up in the general direction of his bed, as if he could see right through the wooden railing and the ceiling.

It didn't take very long until Liona appeared. String watched her as she descended the stairs and his breath caught in his throat. He had a feeling that, despite Archangel's misgivings, Marella did 'sanction' a relationship, otherwise she would not have given Liona this dress.

Even though the dress was, indeed, white and rather plain, it still had his mouth salivating and his pants feeling a full size too small. The supple fabric clung to every curve until it flared around her knees and the deep v-neckline was tantalizing.

When she gave him a hesitant smile, String knew she'd rediscovered her bashfulness around him. He gave her an encouraging smile. "Mornin'."

"Good morning." She walked over to him and seemed unsure of what to say. "Did you sleep well?"

A slow grin spread on his face as he remembered her writhing in his arms the other night. "Yeah. You?"

The tone in his voice betrayed his thoughts and her cheeks started to bloom pink. "Yes," she admitted.

String wanted to reach out for her, but Michael's words still rang in his ears. A seed of doubt had been planted. "Lio, have I pressured you into somethin' you don't really want?"

A myriad of different emotions darted through her eyes, until her eyes snapped gold fire in a pale face. "Is this going to happen every morning, Hawke? Because I don't much care for it."

For a moment String couldn't get past the fact she'd called him Hawke. She was angry. And that confused him, just briefly, until he remembered the last few evenings… and mornings. Then he gave her a little smile. She didn't like him withdrawing and pushing her away, so it felt like a safe assumption that the strong feelings he had for her were at least reciprocated in some way, if not in kind.

"No, this one's on Michael. He thinks I'm too much of a mess to be with." He sighed deeply and bent his head. "Too damaged and jaded."

He could feel her step closer and then he felt the light pressure of her forehead against his. "What do you think?"

"He could have a point." String squeezed the words past the lump of self-condemnation blocking his throat. "And I'm an asshole for doing this to you… The pushing and pulling back. What if I can't stop doing that?"

"Do you want me in your life, String? Or is this just-"

"No!"

She pulled back, her eyes widened in alarm and only then he realized how she must be interpreting his outburst. String banded his arms around her waist. "Whatever you were gonna say… this means a lot more to me than just."

Liona looked up at him and he could feel the tension ebbing from her body. "Then I don't care about the rest."

String cupped her face. She was a beautiful, sweet innocent who made him feel alive again. "You might later."

"Maybe, but then that burden will be mine. Just as the decision is now."

"What decision?"

She stood on tiptoe, bringing her face – and lips – closer to him. "To be with you."

String closed the distance and captured the lips she so sweetly offered him. Then something happened… Hope, joy, and one of the tenderest feelings he'd ever felt in his life, surged in his chest with the same force as Airwolf shooting forward on the burst of the turbos. And then he started laughing.

Liona gave him a dubious look and all String could do was clasp her to him tightly as he gave in to helpless laughter. An unfamiliar eagerness pulsed through him and… so much energy he thought he could die!

He released her abruptly, feeling a sudden need to expel some of that giddy excitement. String marched to the door and threw back a look over his shoulder. "I'm takin' a dive. Can you leave me a towel?"

It was either that or making love with Liona in ever nook and cranny of the cabin for God only knew how long. And, no matter how enticing that was, he wanted to start giving her something back for all she'd given him.

She answered him with a smile and a nod.

The moment he dove into the water of the lake, his senses screamed at the barbarity of the sudden blast of cold. He ignored the outrage of his body and with powerful strokes he swam some distance away and then back again. By the time he climbed out of the lake, his body was still buzzing with a pleasant amount of energy, though the cracks in his bones no longer appreciated the cold of early morning swims.

When he grabbed the towel, he noticed it was warm. When he got dressed, his clothes were warm as well.

He found Liona sitting in front of the fireplace, trying to keep a fire going. He grinned at the sight. She looked up when she heard him approach and gave him an apologetic look. "The fire keeps dying on me…"

"How did you get the towels and my clothes so warm then? That was really nice, by the way."

"Thanks. I, eh, used a lot of newspaper."

String chuckled at that and nodded at the fireplace. "Want me to show you how to build a fire properly?"

The smile she gave him got his blood pumping and the cold in his bones forgotten. He sat down and raised a brow at her. "Are there any newspapers left?"

She worried her bottom lip. "Not many," she then confessed.

"Go on then, get me one."

As Liona walked to the kitchen where he kept his stack of old newspapers, String searched the small wood pile next to the hearth for a few small branches and twigs and set them aside, along with a few decent logs.

When she returned, String started to rip the newspaper in small shreds and he started to explain.

"The basic idea is that small pieces like twigs, matches, or newspaper, burn faster than somethin' big. So we start with that." He broke a few of the thin branches and started to create a small tipi-like structure. "You wanna make sure there's enough space between the pieces. Fire needs air as well as fuel."

He placed the big logs right on top of the small structure. "Stuff newspaper underneath the andiron. Strips… don't just crumple. And then you light it." String used a long lighter to set the newspaper shreds on fire. Soon the flames licked up around the thin branches and, instead of dying out, the fire grew larger and larger, until even the big logs were ablaze.

Their eyes met and String decided that she looked magnificent in fire light. She was right there, within arm's reach and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to lean down and kiss her softly. Liona tilted her head to give him better access and he pulled her into his arms to introduce her to a different kind of kiss. Easy, warm, consoling. Lips gently sucking on lips. Tongue meeting tongue. A kiss between lovers, simply enjoying and relishing the sensation, with the hint of a promise that more was to come later. A last gentle peck on her lips and then he pulled back, smiling down at her.

"How about I make us some breakfast?"

"Can I watch?" she asked hopefully.

At first he thought it a strange request. Until he remembered that her life had been vastly different from his. She didn't know a thing about cooking. Or how to handle a grease fire. And he'd called her an idiot for it. He sure felt like an idiot himself now.

"Sure," he said, pulling her to her feet, "you want eggs?"

"Yes!"

He smiled and decided that he could not change the way he'd treated her before and he didn't want it to cast a shadow on their budding relationship either. Perhaps it was best to not ignore what happened, but to treat lightly. "And bacon?"

Her eyes went wide and her bottom lipped drop. Flashes of gold ignited and at first he thought she'd get angry. Then a puckish grin spread on her face. "Only if its not cremated."

He guffawed at her comment. "I'll do my best," he said with a chuckle.

String then proceeded to show her how to work the large stove, which seemed far more intimidating than it really was. He took the dish with the eggs he'd cracked earlier and started to whisk. He took out a few skillets and showed her how to bake bacon.

"Dom says it's better if the bacon is room temperature, but I forgot to take some from the fridge."

When he pressed the bacon down with a bacon weight, Liona asked him why he knew so much about preparing meat if he didn't eat it.

"I don't eat red meat," String admitted as they both took place at the kitchen table, "and I don't often get people over, but, when I do… they usually like to eat more than just vegetables. Also, there's Dom and Tet. You'd be surprised how picky Tet can be about his steak."

"Why don't you eat meat?" Liona asked leaning against the kitchen counter. "Is it principle?"

"Nah, just intolerance for pork meat. Gives me really bad cramps to the point of nausea. At some point I got wary of eating red meats period. I eat chicken sometimes, but nothin' beats fresh trout from the lake."

He smiled at her, then was silent for a bit as he studied her face. "Lio, what kind of food did you get to eat when Dumaine held you?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Just normal food I guess. Soups, mashed potatoes, fried fish, pasta."

"What kinds of fish?"

"The fishy kind."

That made him chuckle. "I hope not! But, really… what kinds of fish?"

Liona suddenly found the soft crackling bacon much more interesting then him. "I don't know. They never specified."

String heaved a deep sigh. The more he learned about her time as Dumaine's captive, the more appalled he became. "Come on, surely you've had salmon?"

He could see her swallow convulsively. "Maybe. I- I wouldn't know."

"How about meats?"

Now she smiled a little again. "Yes. I had bacon, meatballs… burgers! And… um… sausages. And ribs, I had ribs."

"But not pork tenderloin." He stated it as a fact, because he already knew she hadn't recognized the meat when he put it in front of her.

"No… not that."

"How about steak?"

She didn't reply… and his temper flared.

"How about lamb, Lio? How about veal, rabbit, turkey, game? Or some doggone chicken!" He punctuated 'chicken' with a slam of his fist on the kitchen table making Liona jump in her seat.

"Chicken!" she blurted out on a sob. "I had chicken."

He got up so fast his chair tumbled over.

String paid it no attention when he pulled Liona into his arms and crashed her against his chest, burying his face in her hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I ain't mad at you. I'm angry at that son of a bitch!"

Her tears were slowly making a wet patch on his shirt and he raised his eyes to high heaven in despair. String gently rubbed her back and tried to use a bit of humor to lighten the mood. "At least tell me you know what a carrot is."

"I know what a carrot is." Liona sniffed and leaned back in his arms to look up at him. "Though I've never had as many as in the last few weeks."

He laughed a little at that. "I do like carrots. I like vegetables overall."

The tension was ebbing from her shoulders. "I'd noticed that already. Can I just say though… I'm not very fond of that purple plant vegetable thing."

String didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "A purple plant vegetable thing? That's helpful."

He chuckled at her pout. "I think you mean eggplant."

"Eggs don't grow on plants!"

His shoulders started to shake when he tried not to laugh at her, but Liona noticed anyway.

"Please don't make fun of me," she pleaded with him, "it makes me feel stupid."

Very gently, String cupped her face and peppered her lips, her cheeks, even her nose, with tiny little kisses. "You are anything but stupid. I just think you're too cute for your own good sometimes and you make me laugh. It feels good… laughin' again."

His lips found hers and to his delight she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull herself closer to him. As he kissed her deeply, a vague thought started drifting in his mind – how lovely it was, how incredibly sweet, to kiss her like this and to hold her in his arms. He pressed his forehead against hers. "I better check on the bacon and get the eggs going, or chances are I'm having dessert before breakfast and dinner," he told her softly.

"Dessert?" Her voice was soft, so was the look in her eyes… part gold, part green, like a pure cut titanite gem.

String smiled down at her. "Yeah, you on the table."

Understanding dawned in her eyes, her pupils dilated a bit turning her eyes to liquid gold. "Do you often like to have dessert before breakfast and dinner?"

"Hell, yes!" he groaned. "Now stop lookin' at me like that or we'll have cremated bacon and eggs for breakfast!"

After the breakfast they just barely got to eat, String carried her over to the table to have dessert before dinner anyway. The remainder of the day was pure bliss, for both Liona and String. So were the following days after that. Days in which they saw no one but each other.