The lights of Sunset Beach faded into the horizon, becoming no brighter then a distant memory. Gregory fussed with the map for a few minutes, and then satisfied he hopped up to the wheel of the boat and showed her his heading. "North seems more logical this time of year, so we're headed south."

He set down the map in front of her at the wheel and ran his hand up her neck slowly. Sighing as she leaned into his touch, Olivia looked up at the stars again, searching for the moon. "South it is then."

Gregory favored her shoulder with strong fingers. "You're okay up here?"

"Of course." Olivia promised, finding it much easier to smile her then had been on land. "But what are you going to do?"

He dropped down to the deck. Calling up to her as he disappeared into the cabin. "Make dinner."

"Make dinner?" She repeated to herself, unable to keep from laughing. "What would your firm say?"

The night didn't answer. The ocean whispered something but it was addressed to the stars instead of her. Olivia moved her fingers thoughtfully over the red maple wheel of the boat. Their boat, their refuge from the world. The one place they didn't fight and that must have been why they hadn't taken it out together in so many years.

The wheel was still warm, like she remembered it. It was the kind of wood that absorbed emotions, took memories and kept them at her fingertips. She slid her hands over the wheel, looking for the little gold plate that held Gregory's promise engraved into the metal.

"A chuisle mo chroí." The metal reminded her. Her father's favorite phrase of old Gaelic. Her father, Thomas the poet, would have loved seeing it on the sailboat. He would have loved Gregory, at least the private side of him. Thomas Blake seemed almost present again on the boat. As if he could chide her for not visiting more often, the wind ran cold through her hair for a moment.

"I'm sorry dad, I guess I don't talk to you as much as you'd like, do I?" Olivia paused, trying to call her father's face into her memory. It had been so many years since she'd seen him. "What am I doing? - How am I is the better question." Shaking off the last bit of foolishness she felt talking to the ocean, Olivia smiled gently.

"Now, I'm happy. It's a little blissful moment stolen between the threats on my life, but I'm happy. And you shouldn't worry about me. You know how little it takes for me to be content. You taught me that, to hold on to every little thing that makes me smile." She checked the compass and adjusted the heading accordingly, listened to the sails hum in the soft wind.

"Gregory's been good to me." The waves smacked the bow of the boat, growing louder as the wind picked up. "I know I don't always have the nicest things to say about him, but you should believe me now. He's been so good to me. He reminds me of my own strength, shows me how to find myself and holds me when I can't."

For nearly an hour she talked to him, unburdening everything she had been holding on to. Telling Thomas about Gregory's father and how terrible he was, how Gregory scared her sometimes until he stopped himself. "It's like his father's still in there somewhere buried inside of him. And I don't know what do dad, I just watch. I wait for the ice to leave his eyes. He can be so sweet sometimes."

She blushed, caressing the curve of the wheel. "When he looks at me I understand those poems you liked to read to me when I was a girl. All those words about love and destiny weren't real to me until I met him. Gregory's just-"

Olivia bit her lip, trying to find what she wanted to tell her father. Gregory stopped her musings was he climbed up behind her. "Finished dinner."

He laughed when she jumped, dropping strong hands to her shoulders. "Talking to yourself?"

Olivia reached for his hand and smelled it, trying to decipher from the scent what he'd made for dinner. "Talking to my dad. I feel like he can hear me on the boat."

He brushed his fingers across her lips, spiking her curiosity about dinner even more. "I'm sure he can always hear you Liv. Come on, I've got dinner all set downstairs."

She set the wheel, locking the boat on her course. "It's sweet of you to cook for me."

"I love cooking for you." Gregory explained softly as he shut the upper door. "I just haven't-"

"In years!" Olivia teased as he pulled out the chair to the little table in the cabin and sat her down. "Years and years." Still shaking her head, she let him close her eyes as he set dinner in front of her. "Why did you stop?"

Gregory removed her hand from her eyes and let her examine his offering. Thin strips of chicken arranged in a fan over white rice, sautéed vegetables in bright shades of yellow and green. He ignored her question, turning back to the little gas stove in the kitchen to prepare his own plate. "See if you can guess what it is."

Olivia waited for him to sit down to try her dinner. "You must have given Rose a very complete list."

"I had a few requests." He replied cryptically as he settled "I tried to think of things you'd like."

"Ginger." She guessed around the first bite, smiling.

Gregory nodded, pleased as he mixed all of his food together in a pile on his plate. "Ginger, cloves, garam masala and tumeric." He explained around mouthfuls. "Rose keeps the spices stocked."

Olivia paused, looking up to catch him watching her eat. "I like it."

"I thought you would." Getting up, he dumped the rest of the vegetables on his plate along with the rice. "Do you want more chicken?"

Thinking of the food he had already gone through in the time it had taken her to decide she liked the vegetables, Olivia started laughing. "How hungry are you?"

He took that as a no and added the remaining chicken to his plate. "Starved. While I was cooking I realized I hadn't eaten anything since this morning. I'm going to start looking at your dinner if you don't finish it soon."

Toying with a piece of zucchini she stopped pushing it around her plate and pulled her plate closer to her. "I might be slower then you, but I'm still eating it."

"Feeling better?" He asked softly after a silence filled only with soft whir of the propane lantern over the table and the quiet scrape of silver against their plates.

Surprised by the question, she looked up from the neat shapes she was making with her rice. "I don't know what you mean."

Dropping his empty plate into the sink behind him, Gregory rested his arms on the table and watched her play with her food. "You were pretty miserable this afternoon."

"Someone threatened to kill me-" Olivia didn't meet his eyes. She never could when she was lying. Instead, she covered fear with defiance. "I think I had a right to be upset."

"I'm not disputing that Liv." He kept his voice neutral, low and calm. "I was just concerned."

"I'm fine Gregory." She dropped her fork to the table angrily, eyes starting to glint. "You don't need to patronize me."

Though he tried to hide it, his involuntary smile only served to further infuriate her. In an effort to make peace, he stood up. "I'm going to go drop the sails, case it rains."

Olivia glared after her for a moment. Closing her eyes, she decided he was just worrying, as he always did. Letting her breath out through her nose, she opened her eyes again. "Do you want me to help?"

He turned around on the ladder, looked at the rice still on her plate and shook his head firmly. "You finish your dinner. I'll be right back." Gregory climbed out onto the deck, immediately noticing his suspicions of rain were correct. The sky had clouded over completely and the water had passed beyond playful. The waves chattered against the hull, anxious for arrival of the rain. He detached the rope from the main sail, letting it fall and curl around the low beam. The wind had picked up too, blowing in cold from the open ocean to the west.

The rain started just as he finished the foresail. Thankful for that bit of good fortune, Gregory still relieved to duck below deck out of the building downpour. While he was above Olivia had finally finished eating, and been thoughtfully enough to take care of the dishes. All of the sat drying in the rack by the sink. The lantern about the table was still there, but had been turned down a few notches. He shut it off slowly. Letting his eyes adjust to the darkness a little at a time. There was another light in the bedroom.

He navigated the darkness with practiced ease. Sliding the chairs back out of the way as he headed for the door to the bedroom. Olivia had the lantern on above the bed; she was in the small closet tucked in the bulkhead. Clothes, mostly his old ones saved for fishing, were tossed all over the bed.

"What are you doing?" He asked finally, picking up an old maroon Sanford Law sweatshirt.

"Looking for any of these clothes that might be mine." Olivia sighed heavily when she reached the back of the closet without finding anything. "Tell me again why we couldn't keep our luggage?"

Gregory started picking up clothes, folding sweatshirts and old pants. All of them softened by saltwater and age. "Because, Ricardo wants it to look like we're in San Francisco. Anyone watching him and Paula will see our things get dropped off there. They'll assume they brought us in underground."

"Couldn't I have packed more clothes?" She sat on the bed, pouting as she looked over the mud on her clothes from the ditch that morning. "I'm not going to be able to wear this at all. Look at it, it's messy."

Gregory had to admit he probably didn't look much better. He undid the collar of shirt, flew down the buttons and dumped it in a heap on the floor. Choosing a t-shirt from the pile of clothes he was replacing in the closet, he pulled it over his head. Once it had been black, something from a debate contest, now it was graying.

"You can wear my clothes." He offered gently. Dropping his pants to the heap with his shirt as he dug out a much abused pair of flannel pants. "It's just a week. No one's going to see you."

Olivia sighed, looking rather pathetic as she fidgeted with the wrist of her jacket. "I guess you're right."

He looked over the selection and picked out his Sanford class of '74 t-shirt. "I'll help you change if you like."

"I can dress myself." She replied defensively, but smiled apologetically as Gregory lifted the shirt as a peace offering. "Okay."

"That's the spirit kiddo." He lifted her jacket, pulling it gently free from her shoulders. She was right to be frustrated with her clothes. The blouse beneath her jacket was muddy too, and a little damp with nervous perspiration. She let him remove it, closing her eyes against the warm light of the lantern.

"You can hear the rain." Keeping her eyes closed as his fingers freed her from her blouse, Olivia listened as the gentle pattering rose in intensity, becoming a choir of droplets. "What did the sky look like?"

"Black." Gregory replied simply as he lifted her wrist to undo the cuff. "The kind of darkness that absorbs all the light."

Her lips curled upwards slowly. "It must be beautiful." He stripped her blouse from her shoulders, lifting her arms one at a time to free them.

"It is, in that awe-inspiring way of thunderstorms." Gregory agreed as he started to pull her camisole up over her breasts. He pressed a little hard, and she opened her eyes suddenly, catching both of his hands.

"That hurt."

Gregory's face softened immediately in apology. "I'll be more careful."

Olivia reached for him, resting her fingers on his forearm as her eyes slipped closed again. "They're sore today."

Careful to barely touch her, he lifted the white fabric up past the swollen curves of her breasts. After he pulled it free of her head, he kissed her cheek, slipping his hand around her back to release the clasp of her bra. Studying her nude breasts for a moment, Gregory remembered the last time she had complained of them aching. Sean was a lazy nurser, continually falling asleep before the pressure was alleviated. Running the straps down her arms, he freed her from her bra and dropped it to the floor with the rest of her clothes. Opening the neck of his t-shit with his hands, he dropped it carefully over her head.

"Now if you stand up for just a moment, I'll get you out of your pants."

Olivia giggled as she stood up. "That's always been your goal isn't it?"

He undid the internal and external buttons and eased them off her hips. Black panties, simple, unadorned by lace or designs. After all, wasn't she beyond trying to impress him? Allowing her to sit back on the bed, he turned the legs inside out getting them over her ankles, giving her something else to giggle about. Her knees were slightly dirty; mud had bled through from the wet grass. He brushed them trying to get them clean and forgetting all about how ticklish she was.

Olivia squirmed away, knocking him off the bed. Desperate to free her knees from his fingers. Laughing so hard she was gasping for breath, "Don't do that!"

Gregory stood up slowly, smiling down at her. Laughter brought a blush to her cheeks, a rosy note of warmth he missed when absent. "I forgot."

She sat up, folding her knees beneath her and using his arm to pull him down to the bed. "You used that excuse last time."

Tracing a hand down the bare skin of her thigh was almost as much fun as her knees. "I was just trying to get the mud off. But it can wait until you shower." He reached up for the lantern, turning it down to a faint golden spot of color. "Ready for bed?"

"I'm in bed." That throaty purr was in her tone; her hand flitted across his chest like a bird. "And I think I'm ready."

He advanced on her, just enough to push her back onto the pillows. "You don't have to be." His right hand went unconsciously to her stomach, wondering if his plotting had come to fruition after all.

Olivia scoffed playfully urging him closer. "I have to do something or get under the covers. I'm starting to get cold."

Gregory reached around her for the top edge of the blankets and pulled, her feet tumbled free from beneath her and he caught her legs, tucking them under the covers. He moved up again, snuggling up to her body with the blankets between them. "Olivia, you don't have to for me-"

Her eyebrows fluttered for a moment. She ran her hand through his hair, feeling the moisture from the rain falling all around them. The boat swayed gently in the swell, riding up and down. "Maybe it's not for you."

She patted the pillows next to her and he crawled under the blankets, wrapping his arm around her chest. Feeling both the softness of her stomach and fullness of her breasts with his arm. Watching the dark shadows move up and down the wall of the boat as the swell moved them. "I'm exhausted and I'm not ashamed to tell you I'm frightened. The only way I could be safe was to run away with you to the empty ocean in the middle of nowhere."

Gregory ran his hand over her stomach, both to reassure her and to further his own suspicions. Her body was different. Even in the week since she had been ill, there were subtle changes, as if she were ripening before his eyes. "You are safe."

He could feel the air rush from her chest as she sighed happily. "I'm safe with you. Maybe I want to feel how 'safe' I am?"

Her suggestive tone made him chuckle just under his breath. "I'm here for you Liv." He validated again. "You're my reason."

Olivia folded her arms over his, squeezing him against her chest. He heard the wince in her throat. Her breasts must have been terribly tender. "I love you." She rolled in his arms, turning to face him with that childlike expression that melted his heart every time she used it. "God, do I love you."

Leaning towards him, she closed her eyes, letting him find her lips. He could still taste the ginger in her mouth as he wandered the familiar territory. Gregory took sweet time with kissing her. Finding the sensitive places just under the edges of her mouth. The prelude to a moan as they parted was his reward. She knew he loved her, Olivia must have seen it because her face was relaxed, peaceful as he reached for the hem of her shirt resting on her hip.

Gregory owed her. The horrible morning at the studio, the miserable car ride back to the police station- not once had she complained. She hadn't made the logical jump that it was his fault, nor looked at him to accuse him of failing to protect her. "I love you too." He admitted it so rarely that those little words had a great burden of emotion to carry to her heart. Stroking the upraised curve of her hip, Gregory watched the pupils grow huge in her eyes. The circle of blue disappearing behind the black.

Her hands were on him, settling into his back as she pulled him closer. Gently, taking the speed of a contented man, he pushed her to her back, insinuating his legs between hers. "Should I tell you more often?" Gregory wondered as her eyes grew to fill his vision.

"You tell me every day." Olivia whispered back, trying to calm the quiver of her voice. She spread her legs, inviting him to continue his progress as his hands traveled up from just above her knees. His fingers rested a moment on the thin black fabric of her panties, testing her reaction. She arched her head back, surprising him as her body went flush with his. He removed her panties, letting them disappear into the sheets by their feet.

His flannel pants were next. The knot in the tired drawstring nearly fell apart at her touch, Gregory did the rest as he pulled free, resting his right hand in the hollow between her breasts. Even featherweight pressure raced through her nerves as he ventured across the sensitive territory. The old cotton slung to her skin as sweat began to seep through her skin.

Olivia needed to take his shirt off, she wanted the soft friction of the hair on his chest. As she reached down to it, he anticipated he wishes and pulled it free from his head. Smiling as he devoured her neck. Her anxious moan in response surprised even her. Her body was desperate for him already and he was taking the time to make every movement count. Even the shifting of his weight was carefully calculated, he was careful keep from crushing her into the bed.

Torn between the pain his touch brought and the pleasure that raced along with it, she guided his hand to her breasts one at a time. Letting him test the limits of her endurance. Olivia's breath was growing ragged already, her heart racing with the rain around them. The rocking of the boat moved them, taunting her as his thigh brushed between her legs.

The waiting was the kind of madness that made her want to scream at him in her frustration, but Gregory read the agony in the pitch of her voice. Each instant of denial brought her that much father then she thought she was capable of enduring. Her climax was a shuddering scream that left her head reeling. The heat of it bled down her body as he pulled the blankets back up to her shoulders. Her trembling made him smile that patient, calculated smile.

She reached for his face, surrendering to the quiet in his deep brown eyes. Gregory took her wrist, feeling the blood soaring through her veins from her still speeding heart. He pressed her hand to his chest, sharing the rush of his own heart. "A chuisle mo chroí."

A quiet tear ran towards her nose from one eye. "The pulse of my heart." Olivia whispered back. "Darling-"

Gregory hushed her with a gentle finger across her lips. "You asked me why I stopped cooking."

It took her a moment to remember back to their dinner, and she nodded, wiping the tear away from her nose. "You didn't tell me."

Taking her hand and holding it against his heart, Gregory let out a slow breath. "You stopped eating. After we lost the baby-"

Tears lined up along her eyelashes, fighting to be free of her eyes.

"You'd eat when I forced you, but you would have eaten anything I forced down your throat. Cate was just a baby, she didn't care." Gregory used the hem of his t-shirt to wipe her eyes before pulling it back on over his chest. "I coulldn't spend the time just to throw it away. I couldn't put my heart into something you didn't even taste."

"It became a symbol of how much we lost. How much died with our baby." Gregory pulled her to his chest, burying his face in her hair. "Everytime I watched you pick at your food, I remembered the light that was missing."

"I would have done anything- anything to get that light back." Gregory released her, sliding down the pillow to meet her eyes. "But I couldn't. I was so angry at myself. I failed you because I couldn't make you want that light back."

Olivia watched in quiet awe as the tear appeared on his cheek, glistening in the like of the lantern. "That light came back." He cupped her face in his hands, running fingers around the delicate bones of her eyes. "Your light came back."

It took her three tries to find her voice. Three ties to decide what she wanted to say. Olivia kissed him, putting the sweetness of his words into her lips and returning it to him.

As she lowered her head to her pillow, Olivia smiled impishly. "Does this mean you're making breakfast?"

Gregory nodded, feeling her cool fingertip remove another hot tear from his cheek. "Yes, I guess it does. A very late breakfast..."