April 3, 2005
Quincy, California

It was broad daylight the first time Neville kissed her.

The sky was dark blue; the sound of a particularly loud lawn mower reverberated through the air as she lead him to their destination. Josie's palms were sweaty. She had never actually brought anyone here before – never wanted to bring anyone here before.

Neville must have noticed her distress as they crossed the lawn, because he reached out a hand and wove his fingers between hers. Josie gave him a hesitant smile as they walked along the immaculate green lawn, dotted by rows of inlaid granite snuggled close to the ground.

Her heart pounded loudly against her chest – so loudly she was sure Neville could hear its strangely rapid tattoo. He gave her hand a quick squeeze as she slowed their pace. Without a word, he pulled her close to his body, brushing back a few strands of hair from her face.

Josie's breath caught in her throat. His eyes – such beautiful eyes – scanned her face as his head bent closer.

Oddly, the thought that his lips were impossibly soft flittered across her brain as he gently pressed them against hers. Her hands went up to clutch at his arms, trying to hold herself up as her knees went weak. He nibbled lightly at her lips, tasting faintly of cinnamon, and Josie pressed herself closer to him, wanting to taste more.

And then, as suddenly as it started, it ended.

Neville pulled back from her, panting slightly. He reached up to cup her face, a small smile crossing his face as she slowly opened her eyes to look at him. With a small, "thank you," she took his hand and pulled him up the grassy path. Neither said a word as she drew him closer to the spot.

Rutledge
Nathan J. and Claire R.
Nov. 11, 1953 Aug. 16, 1956
Feb 15, 1995
Beloved Mother and Father

"Mom …Dad," Josie started, a slight hitch in her voice. "I've… I've brought someone to meet you." She squeezed his hand and brought it up to her chest. "His name is Neville, and… I think you would have liked him."

oOooOooOo

April 3, 2005
Quincy, California

Josie knocked on Neville's hotel door. In the time it took for him to answer, her brain went through an entire litany on why this was a bad idea. Those thoughts, however, evaporated as soon as he opened the door.

"I – ah." She licked her dry lips as she tried to string her rehearsed speech together. "I hope you don't mind," she finally started, "but it seemed silly to have two different rooms, when one would suffice. Don't you think?"

"You – you want to sleep? In here?" he stammered out.

"If that's okay with you?" she asked hesitantly. "If it's not, I can – I can go and get the other room back."

"No," Neville said with a little more force than he intended. In a softer tone he said, "No, you're more than welcome."

"Are you going to let me in, then?"

Neville's face flushed a bit as he moved back from the doorframe to let her in.

"The – there's two beds in here," he said softly as she passed him. "Pick which ever one you'll feel most comfortable in."

Josie turned to him, so close she could almost feel the heat of his body. "That will be easy," she whispered, stepping closer to him. "Which one are you in?"

Neville's eyes darkened at her pronouncement. He reached out and pulled her against his chest. His mouth descended on hers in a brutal kiss, so unlike the first one they shared earlier in the day. Josie let out a gasp of surprise, but that didn't stop her from returning his kiss. Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked against her lips. It surprised Josie that he would be this courteous of her needs, that he would stop and make sure that this was what she wanted – no one had before.

She reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life, Neville," she whispered softly before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his head down for another kiss.

oOooOooOo

April 29, 2005
Bryce Canyon, Utah

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Josie hissed out, reaching above her head to grasp the rock as she hoisted herself upwards. She could feel Neville's hands cupping her ass as he pushed her up, and had she not been hanging from a rope forty feet off the ground, she might have enjoyed his hand placement a bit more.

"As if," he grunted, pushing upward, "this is any worse than the bungee jumping thing you talked me into."

"Hey, that was a controlled adventure, there was no sweating involved, and definitely no climbing up the side of a mountain with only sheer strength and a thin rope," she panted. Her foot scraped along the side of the rock as she pulled herself up to the edge.

"Ha," Neville snorted, scrambling up after her. "No sweating involved? Somehow, I don't see jumping off a bloody building as an adventure with no sweating involved."

"In technical terms it is. You needn't climb all the way up to the top of the building, and the way down is a breeze. This is nowhere near as easy – not only will do we have to climb up, but we have to scramble all the way down again."

"True – but isn't this view worth it?" he asked, plopping down on the rocky edge beside her.

"The view might be spectacular, Brit boy, but I'm still not at all convinced the climb down will be worth it."

"How about the company, then?"

Josie pulled a bottle of water from her side holster, popped the top open, and took a long drink. She wiped the back of her arm across her lips as she handed the bottle to Neville. He took it, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"You're not going to answer me, are you?"

He lifted the bottle to his lips and Josie's eyes were drawn to the column of his throat. Her mouth felt suspiciously dry as she watched his throat work; unconsciously, she licked her lips. His lips lifted in a smug smile.

"If you're in the mood for that," he said in a husky voice, "I think we should probably head down again. I think it would be quite uncomfortable to do that here – unless you're feeling dangerous, that is?"

"Do you honestly think I'll be up to that? After you put me through this? There are muscles I didn't even know existed that are sore right now, Longbottom."

He leaned in close to her, his warm breath fanning across her check as he whispered: "I could always soothe those aches for you."

Josie turned her head towards his. "You are completely incorrigible," she whispered back before letting her lips meet his.

His face was nicely flushed when she pulled back.

"I think I'm ready to head down," she told him in a husky voice. She rolled over onto her belly and slowly pushed down off the side. "Don't take too long in getting down; I might not be in the mood later."

Neville watched her slide down the edge and pulled on the rope to inch down.

"You're a tease, Josie Rutledge," he yelled out, just before following her down over the edge.

On the way down the belay anchor securing Josie to the rock face failed, causing the belay gadget to pull taut just before it too failed. Josie felt the harness tug at her body, and she jerked a bit, her waist taking the brunt of the bruising blow. One minute she was following Neville down the face of the cliff, the next she was falling through the air. It barely took a second. She landed badly on her side, the force of it knocking the wind from her.

"Josie." Neville's strong voice broke through the hazy fog of pain. "Josie, listen to me."

Josie tried to focus on the sound of his voice, but every part of her body ached. She could feel him tugging at the harness, and she bit back a sharp gasp of pain as he removed it from her.

"I know it hurts, baby," Neville said. It sounded like a whisper to Josie, he sounded so very far away.

"Josie!" he shouted. "I need you to stay awake." She felt his fingers on her jaw, tilting her face towards him. "Your body is going into shock."

Everything felt cold, and all Josie wanted to do was close her eyes and sleep. Maybe then the pain would stop.

"Josie – damn it, Josie – stay awake," Neville hissed. She could hear him searching through his backpack for something – she wondered idly if he had brought a cell phone.

"I need you to drink this, Josie," he said in a ragged voice, pressing something against her lips. "Drink this for me, luv – it will help." A thick liquid filled her mouth, burning it. She tried to turn her head away but Neville held her still, forcing the stuff down her throat. "Shush, baby, I know – it's horrible stuff, but it will help," he whispered close to her ear.

"Hurts…" she gasped out, as soon as he lowered the bottle.

Neville brush his hand against her cheek. "I'm sorry luv – so sorry," he choked out. His hands brushed down her body, and Josie grunted as his fingers probed along her rib cage.

"Josie, hon, your ribs are cracked – I think they might be broken, and I think you've damaged your spine. I don't –" he broke off with a sob. "I don't know if there's any internal bleeding."

Josie vaguely heard him riffling through his backpack again. It was such an effort to stay awake – she wanted nothing more than to fall into the blackness.

"Josie!" Neville's fingers dug into her chin. "Josie, you need to stay awake. I need – Josie do you trust me?" Josie's eyes focused on his face, and she wondered why he was crying.

"Please, Josie," he sobbed. "Do you trust me?"

"… trust you," she gasped out, before her lids slid closed.

The next time she opened her eyes, Neville was crouched above her. He clutched a long slender stick in his right hand while chanting something in a low voice. It sounded vaguely like Latin. Josie wanted to laugh; he looked so silly, standing above her with such an expression of hard concentration on his face.

He noticed her eyes on him. "Everything will be all right in a moment, luv," he whispered as he ran the stick down her body.

Her brain felt foggy. Her body no longer felt as if it had been broken in two, though it tingled in a strange fashion. Her mouth was bone dry, and she licked her lips, trying to draw out some moisture.

"Wh – what are you doing, Neville?" Josie asked in a raspy voice.

"Shush, luv, I can't fix everything," Neville muttered, "but I can at least make you more comfortable."

"Neville – " she gasped out, "I – what – how are you –"

"Just trust me, Josie." He placed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I promise, I'll explain everything later – but right now, just trust me."

oOooOooOo

A/N:

Okay, after a moment or two of panic over the "oh my god, someone else is using the same idea as me," thing, and well, obsessively reading the first two chapters posted, I want to point y'all to another cool rendition of u The Ghost and Mrs. Muir /u posted by ancientgirl. It's actually a HG/SS fic, titled The Ghost and Mrs. Krum, and so far it's pretty good, so go on over and read it. Yeah I know… silly to be in a panic, but, yanno – this is sort of my baby – the fic I'm proudest of, and for some weird reason I thought only I had this idea (stupid reasoning).

This chapter has been edited -- the full, complete version is posted at Lumos, ThePotionsMaster(dot)net, my blogger, and eventually to Owl when this fic get's caught up there. The only thing you're missing is the sex scene between Josie and Neville.

Thanks to Rachel W (who is not only a talented writer in her own right, but an incredibly cool lady with a killer southern accent) and Mark (my sick psychotic British friend who keeps trying to put a little bit of Brit into me – yes I said it was little :oP) for all their help in chasing away my misuse of commas and blatant American jargon.

An informational site on what can go wrong in any given climbing situation:
http(dot)www(dot)nps(dot)gov/yose/sar/climbsafe(dot)htm