String introduced Liona to a variety of experiences that were absolutely new to her.

From long hikes in the nearby forest, to watching a deer and her young fowl up in the mountains, to a lazy swim in the lake, to horse riding lessons, to making love out in the open on the docks because String swore to her he'd be able to hear someone arriving before they could be spotted.

He'd been right about her. Liona was not shy about her body or being naked in front of him. In the past years of knowing that people were looking at her, even when she was taking a shower, it had killed any sense of shame in her naked form. Never having seen a man naked before, until recently, had sparked an interest in his body though that String found oddly titillating and stimulating. At his encouragement, soon Liona also felt no shame in showing her desire or seeing his.

For them, communication became something that far transcended mere language. They communicated in the way they made love. They communicated in silence through gentle touches and tender glances and they communicated when they played the Strads.

Even a single kiss could convey a thousands words.

After years of avoiding human contact, String now couldn't get enough. The closer the better. The more intimate the better. Even though he made sure to fill their days with plenty of activities that had forever been denied to her, desire flared so quickly and easily, it started to give String some pause. Yet, it seemed that while he might crave the physical contact, she was starving for it. They both had years of catching up to do.

One day she came down from the loft, bold as brass, not a stitch of clothing on her, and started playing the violin. When he raised an inquisitive brow, she simply said it would save her time. Then she invited him to join her with the cello. Only, the moment he wanted to sit down, Liona scratched the bow against the strings creating an awful ear bleed inducing sound. She gave him a pointed look and her intention burst upon him like gunfire.

He felt a bit faint when he pulled his warm sweater over his head, welcoming the blast of chilly air against his bare skin. There was little he could do to hide the very physical response of his body to the entire situation. Liona said nothing, merely waited for him to get ready. By the time his dark gray cargo pants landed around his ankles, his entire body felt taut with anticipation. When he first drew the bow across the strings, he could feel his fingers tremble, both of his hands clammy with sweat.

Her lips curved into a knowing smile when she heard the first notes of 'Kashmir'.

When the last note faded and their eyes locked, the result was so explosive that String actually came to believe it was possible to die of pleasure.

Their days of bliss ended when Dom radioed to say he was flying in. Still, when the old man walked into the cabin, Liona was very happy to see him and she rushed at him for a hug, trying to not let him drop a box of groceries. "Aw, what a welcome!" Dom gave her a toothy grin. "Your sweet presence is enough to warm any man's heart."

His grin disappeared and he looked up to where String was standing near the railing, buckling up his pants over a maroon shirt. "Except maybe for his. I hope he's treated you better these last few days."

Liona couldn't repress a smirk when Dom made sure he was loud enough for String to hear him. String merely gave him a lopsided grin and soon came bounding down the stairs.

"It's good to see you too, Dom," he said with such an easy smile it made Dom stop dead in his tracks and a confused look crossed his weathered features. He quietly set the box down on the kitchen table.

"Well, at least you seem to be in a good mood. And so does she. Things are better then?" He sounded so hopeful that it made Liona laugh.

"Yeah, things are better." String gave Liona a wink and then nodded at the box. "Thanks for bringing that up. It slipped my mind I was low on stock."

"Yeah, yeah. Mind telling me why Mr. Clean approached me about eh… that thing… and not you?"

String raised a brow at his best friend, a mischievous smile hovering on his lips. "What thing, Dom?"

Dom's bushy brows raised so high they nearly disappeared under his red 'SA' cap. "Well eh, you know… the thing!"

String shrugged his shoulders. "I really don't know, Dom. There are lot's of things. What thing do you mean?"

It was so clear that String was baiting Dominic, that Liona had to muffle a chuckle with her hand.

When Dom rolled his eyes up while muttering, "Mama mia!", she nearly dissolved in a fit of giggles.

"The thing, String! That involves the Lady!"

"A thing that involves a lady? Now you do have me intrigued."

"Oh, come on String! You know perfectly well what I mean!"

Only when it looked like Dominic was about to pop a vein, did String finally decide to end the man's agony. "Dom, you don't have to talk in code. Lio knows you mean Archangel, she knows about the Lady," – He turned to look at Liona – "That's, eh, our nickname for the helicopter."

String turned back to Dom again. "Even if she can't always know every detail about every mission… You don't have to use code whenever Mr. Clean wants us to do something that involves Airwolf."

At first Dom looked mutely between them. "Oh," he finally said. Then his Italian temper flared up. "Why didn't you say so to begin with? Kept me yappin' about a thing!"

String chuckled. "I was just messin' with ya."

"Messin'? Since when did you start with a'messin'?"

"Since he found his funny bone," Liona said. She then gave String a look. "And his cheek bone."

The smile vanished from String's face and Dom sucked in a sharp breath when String turned his scowl on Liona. "That is not even slightly humerus."

Liona nearly choked and String's lips twitched suspiciously. When Dom said, "Huh?", they couldn't help themselves and burst out laughing. String clapped a hand on Dom's shoulder. "Let's go outside, Dom." He turned to Liona. "Will you take a few steaks from the fridge? I'll start dinner in a bit."

"Sure," she said, still smiling and watched as the two friends stepped outside.

Outside String walked to the wooden railing of the front porch and leaned on it, waiting for Dom to join him. "What did Archangel want?" he asked, not ready to tackle the subject of his relationship with Liona just yet.

"Straight to business, huh? Well, that can wait. I'd much rather talk about what's going on between you and… her."

The serious look on Dom's face made String feel slightly uncomfortable. Michael's reservations were still fresh in his mind. Then he reminded himself that Dom adored Liona so he couldn't have any objections to the two of hem being together.

"I think you already know."

The older man sighed deeply, a slow grin spreading on his face. "Finalmente! Il ragazzo ha visto la luce!"

"Dom, please." String hated it when Dom started venting in Italian, which he didn't understand.

His friend gave him a fond smile. "Ah, kid, I was just saying you finally saw the light! I'm happy for you, String, I really am." The smile vanished. "Even though I know things won't be easy. You both lug around a lot of ghosts."

String contemplated this and he knew Dom had a point, so did Michael. Still, it was easier to chew on 'it won't be easy' than 'you can't' or 'you shouldn't'. He knew that several days of bliss was not enough to counter years of darkness. Sooner or later they would both have to face their demons again. "Yeah, I know," he finally said.

"Just, do right by her, will ya? Because I know you, String. I've seen how you were after Gabrielle. I know you'll want to keep Lio hidden from the world so nothin' will happen to her."

"I am not keepin' her prisoner, Dom! And I don't plan to either. She makes her own decisions. If she wants to stay, she can stay. If she wants to go…" His voice caught. "I won't keep her from goin' if that's what she wants. But you can bet your life I will do my damnedest best to make sure she doesn't want to."

"You think she's the one?"

String shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, Dom, but I'd sure like to find out. More than anything."

Dom turned to him and soon String felt the weight of his friend's hand on his shoulder. "Then let me tell you this, kid. You are not cursed, never have been. You just started to think you were..."

There were tears glistening in his friend's eyes when he gazed back at the cabin. "In there I saw a young man I once knew. Someone I used to love very much. But things started to happen, terrible things and that man…" – His voice cracked and his huge body trembled, tears starting to well in his eyes – "that man disappeared and there was nothin' I could do to bring him back."

String winced slightly when the tight grip on his shoulder became a painful squeeze.

"But she did it. She brought him back, String. And for that I will always love her. But, once you start down this road, you can't give up! You can't go back to clamming up and running away and- and- pushing everyone else out of your life. She deserves more than that. And so do you."

Relieved that his friend was on board, String sighed deeply and he nodded his head. "Yeah..." That really was all he could think of saying on that. Another fortifying breath and then he raised a brow again. "What did Archangel want?"

"Ah, Mr. Tighty Whitey wants us to test fly a computerized version of Airwolf. Somethin' like that. It's designed by Dr. Robert Winchester. That name should ring a bell!"

"Robert Winchester? Yeah, I know him. What does he have to do with anythin'?"

"I don't know, String. All I know is he created somethin' and Mr. Clean wants us to test it. No harm in showing up and play trained pony for a bit."

"Maybe."

"Ah, but not a one trick pony!"

They both laughed and got back inside where String prepared them a simple dinner of steak, mashed potatoes and buttery peas. Whereas he simply stuck to the veggies.

During dinner it was mostly Dominic and Liona that did the talking. String poured the three of them a glass of wine and, without really thinking much of it, handed them the glasses.

Dom took an appreciative sip and continued his story. How he and Alan – String's father – had once run off with the clothes of a certain lieutenant they didn't like. The 'gentleman' in question was having a rather steamy rendez-vous in a lake with a local hottie.

String had heard the story too many times to still find it as amusing, but he loved how much it made Liona laugh. She picked up the glass and took a sip, and instantly spat it back out. There was such a comical look of disgust on her face, it sent String and Dom into a fit of laughter.

"God, what is that!" she complained, scrunching up her nose.

"Sorry Lio," String said laughing, "I completely forgot you never had wine before."

"This is wine? The stuff you like so much?" The incredulous look on her face made them laugh even harder.

"Aw, did our baby have her first taste of wine? And didn't like it? Aw…" Dom teased her.

"Let me get you somethin' else," String said and he chuckled when he saw Liona sticking out her tongue to Dom.

After dinner the three of them moved closer to the cozy fire. String and Liona on the couch and Dom sat himself down in one of the chairs. His eyes instantly fell on the wooden standard that carried St. John's violin.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, pointing at it, "Ain't that…?"

String gave him a crooked little smile. "Yeah. It's St. John's."

Dom turned his head back at him. "I'm surprised you looked it up."

"Lio plays. I told her she could use it. You know, 'til…"

"Of course. You play?" Dom directed the question at Liona.

She was snuggled comfortably in the curve of String's arm and she gave Dom a nod. "Yes. Playing was about the only thing that kept me sane, that and a memory, when I was… you know…"

"Oh, right..."

An awkward silence stretched between them until Dominic started to chuckle. "He never did like it though. St. John, I mean. Playin'. Oh, the excuses he used to invent not to have go to his violin lessons. When he returns, he might even let her keep it."

Strings was really grateful that Dom said 'when' and not 'if'. "Yeah," he agreed, "it's still his to give though."

Again silence stretched between them, though now more a contemplative one, rather than awkward.

At some point, Dom raised his eyes to them, a hopeful look carved in his face. "Do I get to hear you play somethin', Lio?"

"Only if String wants to join. I- I found out that playing with two is, is so much better than playing alone."

The look she gave him made his throat constrict and he silently agreed. Nothing ever felt so wonderful. Well… almost nothing. The gleam in her eyes told him she knew what he was thinking.

"A-hem…?"

They both looked up at the same time and found Dom, still sitting there, a wide spread grin on his face.

With a light chuckle, String pressed a quick kiss to Liona's neck. "I'll get the cello."

"I guess that means I will get the violin."

She rose to her feet and soon she stood in front of the fireplace, her nose crinkled up in thought. Then she smiled and started playing. String didn't know the song and he had a feeling that Liona didn't really know either. It was a really nice melody though. Sad and sweet at the same time.

He let her take the lead for a moment, to get a feel for what she was going for and then jumped in.

Improv all the way.

Half way through she shifted to something else and before he knew it, they were playing their own little rendition of 'What a wonderful world' then shifting to other songs their hearts created in the spur of the moment. Violin and cello. Their notes hugging and touching each other. Lifting each other. Making love and in the end… dying.

They were looking at each other when the last note faded away.

"Santa Maria Vergine!"

String and Liona looked away from each other, the spell broken, both of them staring at Dom who had a look of shock on his face. He awkwardly got to his feet and both String and Liona put the instruments back in their stands.

"Well, kids, thank you for a lovely evening. But, eh, I'll be headin' home now. Need some peace to quietly bawl my eyes out." He chuckled a bit and quickly gave Liona a big hug. He clapped String on the shoulders.

"Don't forget. Bright and early tomorrow."

"I'll be here, Dom," String assured him.

"Yeah, but will you be up?" Dom gave them a suggestive waggle of his brows that made them all laugh again.

Instead of returning to the couch, String dragged some cushions from the window seat and settled them against the stone hearth. When Liona nestled against him, he let his lips trail against her temple. "What memory were you talkin' about earlier?"

"H-mm?"

He dragged her hair to the side so he could trail a path from her temple to the column of her neck.

"Earlier… you said playin' was about the only thing that kept you sane. That and a memory."

A blush bloomed on her cheeks and crept up all the way to her ears. "It's nothing… it's- it's silly really."

"Tell me."

"You are not going to let this go, are you?"

String chuckled and nuzzled her neck. "No."

"Fine… It's embarrassing though. Because, you'd think I would cling to the memories of my parents, my sister, my brother. And, in a way I did. But, whenever I was in a really dark place, it was not them I would think of."

He kept showering her neck with little kisses, so she wouldn't get stuck in that awful past, not when he was right there.

"Something happened when I was really young. My parents took us camping to a family camping site. Very rustic. Middle of nowhere. And, I don't really remember what- what happened. Just that one moment I was poking around with a stick in some mud and the next… some of the other boys ganged up on me."

The words triggered a long forgotten memory and he raised his head from her neck.

"Leave her alone!"

He shook his head to dislodge the memory, but his mind kept conjuring images of a little girl, siting in the mud, covered from head to toe in thick black muck…

"They threw mud at me. Smeared it in my mouth even. And they started whipping me with branches and all the wile they were…

Laughing. A group of burly looking ne'er-do-wells were laughing while tormenting a little girl.

She was crying loudly and not in a position to defend against five much larger kids.

String gave his brother a look and St. John nodded at him in understanding. Then they charged in. St. John was older, larger, stronger and faster. He cleared the wooden fence first. String was so angry at what was happening, he practically snarled when he jumped the fence just a moment later.

"One of them had just shoved another handful of dirt in my mouth. I was hysterical and couldn't stop crying. And then, when all seemed so dark and hopeless and I felt so small and scared and alone… I saw two older boys jumping over a nearby wooden fence. One of them started yelling..."

"Leave her alone!"

String barreled into the group of kids while St. John rushed over to the little girl. Though the other boys were several years younger, they formed a pack and they were a vicious lot, but String was too angry to care.

"Yeah, you run away, you bunch of sissies!" he yelled, when they suddenly took off.

He then joined his brother who was busy removing mud from the girls face, hair and mouth.

String leaned down, his hands on his knees and he looked at the girl, a big smile on his face, even though his entire body felt sore. "Hello, little bug."

St. John started to laugh when the dirt revealed long tresses of golden hair. Her eyes were tinged with green, but in her sorrow and fear, they were huge golden orbs, a bit like a bug.

"Looks like we have found a little 'gold' bug."

"I don't really remember the rest. Just that moment that one boy jumped the fence, with this angry look on his face. And the other one kneeling next to me, helping me to get rid of the dirt from my mouth and my hair and my face. I know they said something but… it's a blur.

"I remembered feeling safe though. When all seemed hopeless, they were suddenly there. I clung to that image…" Liona gave an embarrassed chuckle. "I kept hoping that they would come charging in again and save me one more time."

String closed his eyes as more and more forgotten memories washed over him. Memories of that last carefree summer he'd buried because they hurt too damn much. He saw images of his parents flash through his mind. How happy they'd been that summer. He also remembered how he'd often wondered about the fate of that little girl; if bullies ever targeted her again. For some reason, fate had brought them back together.

"One of them did," he said and even to his own ears, his voice sounded strange.

When Lio turned around in his arms to look up at him, String – for the life of him – couldn't understand how he'd not recognized their little gold bug. Then he smiled to himself because he suddenly understood why he'd had that sudden urge to read that book from Edgar Allan Poe. And why from the very start he'd felt the overwhelming desire to protect her. Somewhere on some subconscious level, he had recognized her!

He wrapped his arms around her and let his gaze drift over every curve and line of her face. Then he smiled. It was definitely her.

"Those boys you were talkin' about." String swallowed, his arms tightening reflexively about Liona. "That was St. John and me."

Her eyes grew big as saucers, her mouth widening into an astonished O. "You and-and…?" she stammered.

"St. John. He was the one who got you cleaned up."

"Oh! Oh!" Liona struggled upright. "I- I met… St. John?"

"Yeah." String couldn't help but think how much his brother would love this… if he'd ever get a chance to find out. "He called you gold bug."

"So that's what he's saying in my dream! I-I can never remember. And you… you chased after them."

"Still have the scars to prove it." He chuckled softly at the look on her face.

"I don't remember what happened after that. Do you?"

Oh God, he was starting to! So many memories he'd tried to forget because he believed them to be too painful. He nodded slowly. "That camping site you mentioned was at the far end of this lake. Place closed down years ago though. We took you back with us in our boat. Here- right here, Mom gave you a bath."

Her eyes were swimming with tears and he could see how Liona swallowed convulsively. "That was here? Why, why don't I remember?"

"It was a long time ago." He caught her staring at a large wooden desk, where once an organ had stood. "That's where Dad played for you, to soothe you… You were cryin' so hard for your mom. St. John and I had to row back and look for your family."

Liona started to sing the words of that song, so achingly familiar and looked up at him with questioning eyes. String nodded at her. "Yeah, that's what he played. I wondered why you were singing that particular song."

"It's my comfort song," she whispered.

He nodded again, his throat thick with emotion. "Yeah. You stopped cryin' hearing it. Dad loved playing that piece."

"Why didn't we see you again after that summer?"

String pressed his forehead against hers. "A few weeks later, the last week of summer vacation…"

"Your parents…"

"We didn't go back to the cabin for quite a few years. Dom took us in."

"I remember that Ariel kept looking for you each year, for your brother, but I- I can't remember if she ever mentioned your names."

"Your sister." String smiled, remembering the huge crush he'd had on the girl, even though he forgot her name. Ariel... with her long, lush, pale blonde hair, round laughing face, a cute upturned nose, full lips. Ariel, who'd followed St. John around for the rest of that summer, trying her best to get him to notice her. But St. John had been at that age where he thought all girls were lame. Except maybe for their little gold bug.

"Where did you go?" he asked after some time, "We didn't see you again either."

"I don't remember myself," Liona admitted. "But, Mom told me I was so upset, she took me back home and let Dad finish the holiday at the camping site with Ariel and Thomas."

"Thomas…" A vague memory surfaced of a young boy with a mop of unruly, curly brown hair. They'd spent quite some time fishing together: St. John, Thomas and himself. "I remember him. He was a nice kid. Damn, I forgot so much about that summer. More than I even realized."

More things started to make sense now. Like why Leander Tergesen had looked so surprised when String introduced himself, before that look of surprise turned to a look of shame. String realized that, even though he hadn't recognized the man, Leander had recognized him. And the shame of what he had done, kept him from revealing they met before.

He now also understood the implicit trust Leander had shown to have in him. The trust that he'd be there for his daughter again, when she would need him even more than the first time.

Suddenly String started to laugh and he cupped her face, raising it to his. "So, basically I have always been the man of your dreams."

"I guess so," she admitted with a soft smile.

Then a realization hit him with the force of a sledge hammer… She was his. Always had been, even when he'd all but forgotten her. Not once had she belonged to someone else. And now he'd make damn sure she never would either.

Without saying a word, String got to his feet and he lifted her in his arms, then carried her up to the sleeping loft bridal style. He spent a good portion of the night making love to her, as tender, gentle and sweet as he could, exploring every inch of her body and leaving not a patch of skin untouched or unloved, until Liona was half-mad with need. String gave himself, all of him, with unselfish determination, moving his body in the ways that gave her maximum pleasure, fighting down the demands of his rampaging desire as she shuddered beneath him until he could feel her climax.

Only then did he crush her to him and finally allowed himself release.

That night, his dreams were filled with images of his parents. St. John… Happier times when his dad played the organ and sometimes the three of them played together… even though St. John absolutely sucked with the violin. The images of his dreams were set to the music of his father playing the finale of Symphony number 3 by Saint Saëns. And there was an image of a golden girl, happily smiling up at him.