A/N: Here's the next chapter, it's longer but one after will be shorter. I've done some whitewater rafting and canoeing in Pennsylvania, so this is based on some of my experiences; again I can't promise it's one hundred percent accurate. Remember, you must imagine the accent.

Chapter Two

After asking around, the old diner Stella had been talking about was easy enough to find. It was about a quarter mile down a dirt path off the main road—apparently providing a good place for adventure-seekers to start their day. The Squirrel Cage, the sign out front read. There were several beat up trucks in the parking lot already. One had a lawnmower in the back, and another had a canoe. He entered the diner, to find it laid out in the typical style, with a counter and some booths, and a sign reading "Have a Seat We'll be Right with You." A jukebox in one corner, and restrooms he'd rather not see on the other side of the room. Stella had a booth off to the left and waved him over.

"Hey," he began as he took a seat, across from her. And pulled a menu out from behind the napkin dispenser. A moment later a middle-aged waitress with big, frizzy, bright red hair came out from the kitchen. She looked over to their table, spotted Johnny and made a bee-line for the powder room.

"What the heck is her problem?" Johnny asked a little uptight. "Did I scare her?" He wondered silently if the waitress had recognized him. He hadn't wanted to blow his cover that fast. Stella just laughed, letting her head fall back; big, happy laughter.

"She's checking her make-up," she explained finally. Johnny's eyes got a little wider and he snickered a little with her. Another moment later and the waitress emerged from the ladies room with more lipstick and rouge than any woman had the right to wear.

"Hey Stella," the waitress began.

"Hi, Rosa," Stella offered kindly with a slight wave. "What do you want to drink, Johnny, orange juice okay?" Johnny cocked an eyebrow. Stella was taking his order? Since when had she been the waitress?

"Orange juice is fine," he began cautiously.

"And how 'bout pancakes?" She suggested. "Or would you rather have the scrambled eggs?" Now he was very confused.

"Pancakes sound great," he said, setting his menu back behind the napkin dispenser pointedly.

"So two glasses of orange juice and two orders of pancakes," Stella told Rosa, who jotted some sort of waitress short hand down on her notepad, and headed back towards the kitchen.

"Now what was that about?" Johnny asked, barely above a whisper.

"Don't worry," Stella assured him. "Rosa never deals directly with first-timers." Johnny's brows knitted.

"Come here often?" he asked in his typical ribbing way. Stella nodded.

"My dad used to bring me here all the time," she offered. Another waitress came out with two glasses of orange juice. Another ten minutes passed before Rosa emerged from the kitchen with two plates full of pancakes.

"Thanks," Stella offered as Rosa set the plates down and left, and they started to dig in. "Could you pass the 'serp?" She asked motioning towards the small container of maple syrup.

"You mean, the syrup," he teased, picking it up and pulling it out of reach. "Say 'syrup,' syrup."

"Can I please have the 'serp?" She shot with a slight giggle.

"I'm sorry," Johnny mocked playfully, as he poured what was left of the syrup onto his own plate. "There's not going to be any syrup for you until you can say it right."

"Hey, Stella!" A man entering the restaurant called over. Stella waved, and as Johnny turned to look at him, she quickly switched her plate for his, and when he turned back around and looked down at his plate, he found it was lacking the flood of maple goodness.

"Hey," he snapped friendlily, waving his fork pointedly at Stella, as she laughed, stuffing her face. "Not cool."

After they had finished eating, they had a short war over who would, in fact, be paying the check, only to end up splitting it straight down the middle, before heading out to Stella's truck. She grabbed a wet bag and slung it over her shoulder and they pulled the canoe out of the back of the truck.

"Get the paddles," Stella instructed as she hoisted the canoe up over her head to take it down to the water. Johnny took the two paddles and with a sigh of content went to follow her. He took note of how her tank-top clung to her curves deliciously, and how the shorts she wore were just tight enough and just short enough to leave him gagging for more.

Stella set the canoe down on the small shore line and they both pulled on life vests and helmets. Johnny took a seat on the bow of the boat to help Stella in. She gently pushed him off as she tossed her bag and the paddles into the canoe.

"I don't ride shotgun," she told him pointedly, before straddling the bow of the canoe. "I'll steer. You get to be the powerhouse." Johnny thought about it a minute and shrugged, getting to his feet again.

"I can live with that," he agreed, giving her a mock salute. "Permission to come aboard Captain."

"Get in," she returned with a slight laugh, rolling her eyes. "Stay low." He crouched down as he headed to the back of the small boat, sat down, grabbing the paddle. She climbed in and pushed off and turned them around to head into the water.

"Remember if you fall out, keep your feet up," Stella warned as the water began to speed up. "I'll swing back around to pick you up."

"Thanks," Johnny took note blandly.

Fossil Falls was the first rapid up. A series of three short falls heading around a tight curve. They were jostled in their seats every time they went over the edge, and they both had to paddle hard to keep control until they reached the calm water at the bottom.

"That was fun," Johnny began.

"It was a start," Stella answered, smiling. "The Washing Machine is up next, keep to the left, there's fewer rocks, and we'll stay out of the whirlpool."

"Come on," Johnny returned. "I didn't come down here to take it easy."

"Okay then," she agreed craftily. "Hard to the right." And she gave the canoe a little kick to the right, and they were both paddling again. As they approached the torrents the canoe started to turn towards the whirlpool. Stella turned them back sharply as they entered the white water, but the back end of the canoe fishtailed and slammed into a rock as they lurched forward, then slammed into another, and one more broadside. This time Johnny was thrown out of the boat. He slid over a few more rocks before the water calmed. He remembered not to try to stand up, as Stella turned around and grabbed his paddle out of the water.

"You did that on purpose," he yelled, doggy paddling over.

"It's not my fault you weren't paddling hard enough," she called back. "Now, just grab that center spoke there and just: one, two, three, pull." Johnny grabbed the bar, and Stella grabbed the back of his lifejacket and they both managed to get him back in the boat. He flopped in, belly down, and just laughed hysterically with Stella for about five minutes before getting back into his seat.

"We've got one more set of rapids," Stella explained. "This is actually the one where I got thrown out of the raft, my first time. The raft ran over me, and my ankle got caught."

"Good to know," Johnny started as they paddled towards the white water.