In which Draco drives Ari up the wall...

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Thetis left me to ponder her words, but I had made my decision. Once it was made, I realized that I had never seriously considered sending Draco away. He had been willing to give his life to save mine—he couldn't have known that I held favor with the gods. I owed him my life. I wouldn't give my life my life in return—I doubt he would appreciate that very much—but I would share it with him until I died. I was sure of that, at least.

As the sun began to sink toward the horizon, I slipped off the rock and into the water. I swam back to shore and, instead of putting my clothes back on, I headed for a nearby stream where I washed away the salt. The mountain water was even colder than the sea and left me shivering and gasping. I eyed my dirty clothes with some distaste, but it was getting cold and I couldn't go home naked.

When I got home, I smelled food cooking and suddenly realized that I was starving. I bolted upstairs and changed into pajamas, then flew into the kitchen. Papou was there with theio Parasko, theia Voula (my dad's sister), and Christo. I hugged each of them and then fell on the bread and salad with gusto. When the meat was ready, I devoured that, too. My relatives looked in with mingled astonishment and amusement, but didn't interrupt. When I was finished, I leaned back with a contented sigh.

"Okay, you can talk to me now," I said.

"Uh...how was England?" Christo ventured.

"Aside from the fact that John MacTavish wasn't actually John MacTavish, it was great," I said. "And, before you ask, I can't tell you much else beside the fact that he's dead and won't bother us again. The fraud, I mean."

They weren't happy, but I was in no mood to negotiate. Instead, I told them about the fancy parties and nasty women and how Draco had only recently discovered coffee. They roared with laughter as I regaled them with tales of the Ketworth sisters and exclaimed over the education I had been receiving. When I asked how Draco was doing, Yiayia said he had woken up long enough to have some soup and then fallen asleep again.

When Christo and his parents went home, Yiayia asked if I wanted to go see Draco and I hesitated. I was still sort of coming to grips with my decision and with everything that had happened. I felt like seeing Draco would make it all true. I wasn't sure if I was ready for that yet. I ended up on the couch with a mug of tea and a blanket. I lay awake even after I finished my tea. As tired as I was, I couldn't sleep.

As the clock crawled toward midnight, I tossed and turned and finally had to admit to myself that moving around probably wasn't the best way to fall asleep. On the other hand...with a feeling of mixed anticipation and trepidation, I padded upstairs and down the hall. I gently pushed the door to my room open and saw that Draco was sitting up as if waiting for me. I noted with relief that he was still covered with the sheet.

I stopped, unsure of what to say. He didn't say anything either.

"How are you feeling?" I finally asked.

"Better," he said softly, and held a hand out to me. I moved forward without hesitation and took it. "Are you alright?"

"I couldn't sleep," I said lamely. He tugged my hand gently and I sat down next to him.

"I don't know how you saved me, Ari," he whispered, a little unsteadily. "And it's more than I deserve, but I'm grateful. I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

"You saved my life, I saved yours," I said. It came out more stiffly than I meant it to. "We're square."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, releasing my hand and looking down. "I'm so sorry, Ari. For everything."

"I know," I said, throat constricting. Why was this so hard? Why couldn't I just say it?

"You have to believe me—I never wanted to hurt you." His voice was ragged. "I wanted to marry you. I would have found a way to keep our children safe. I wouldn't have let them become slaves. I had all sorts of ideas for escaping and disappearing to someplace where they would never find us. I--"

"You wanted to marry me?" I asked, my voice barely audible. "You don't anymore?"

Draco looked up, startled, and I blushed and looked away. Had I come to the wrong conclusion? I knew he cared for me, but did he not care for me in that way? Maybe he had wanted to marry me simply to keep me safe. Maybe he felt like he had to atone for what he had done. Maybe--

"I do," he whispered, pulling me tightly against him. "Very much. And I'll ask you as soon as I feel like a man again—not a rag doll."

I sighed in relief and smiled against his chest. "I can wait. You're going to need your strength to handle my family."

Draco chuckled. "Should I be concerned?"

"Not yet," I replied. "But I would advise you to hurry up and get better because they'll all be here within a few weeks. Every last one of them."

"What for?" Draco asked curiously.

"Easter, of course."

"Oh, my. Will there be a lamb roasting in the front yard?"

"Yep. And a goat. And probably a few chickens." I yawned widely and said, "I love you, Draco," as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"I love you, too," he murmured, stroking my hair.

Draco lay back, carrying me with him. He kissed me softly on the forehead and tucked my head under his chin before heaving a huge sigh and falling asleep. I took a moment to enjoy the feeling of his arms wrapped firmly around me, then followed his example and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

The next morning, I found that Draco and I had something unexpected in common. Ever since I was little, I would shift and turn and roll over in my sleep. Sometimes I moved around so much that I'd wake up with my head at the foot of the bed or with my head and feet hanging off the sides. It drove my cousins up the wall when we were kids.

The same was apparently true of Draco. When I woke up, I was lying with my head wedged in the corner of the wall (my bed was settled snugly in the corner of the room) and one foot dangling off the bed. Draco was curled on his side with his arms draped loosely around my waist and his head resting on my stomach. And you know what? It wasn't all that uncomfortable.

"We're going to need a bigger bed," I murmured to myself, combing Draco's hair back with my fingers.

He stirred and peered blearily at me through slitted eyes. "Mmmph."

"Good morning to you, too," I said with a smile. "How do you feel?"

His only reply was to groan and close his eyes. Frowning, I put a hand on his forehead. His fever was back. It wasn't bad, though. And he was perfectly lucid, thank God, so I could explain about Tylenol. I moved to get up, but he tightened his arms around my waist.

"Draco, I have to get up," I told him.

"Stay here for a little bit," he insisted groggily. "Your stomach's nice and soft."

"It is not," I gasped indignantly. "I'll have you know that I have abs of steel, mister."

"Soft," he muttered rebelliously.

I flexed my abs to prove him wrong and slipped out from under him. Scowling at me, he grabbed a pillow and punched it a few times before shoving it under his head. I shook my head and went to get a glass of water from the bathroom. When I came back, I nearly dropped the glass. Draco had kicked off the sheets and was sprawled on his stomach, giving me a very clear view of—well, everything. With my face flaming, I marched over and jerked the sheets back up. Draco rolled over and glared at me.

"I was hot."

"You're also stark naked," I snapped. "Pig."

"Poxy cow."

"I think I liked you better when you were delirious," I told him, shaking out two pills. "Here, swallow these."

"What are they?" he asked suspiciously.

"They'll make your fever go down," I said. "Take them with water and swallow them whole. If you think you can handle it, that is. If not, I'm sure I can find some children's Tylenol somewhere."

Draco gave me a dark look but accepted the pills and the water and swallowed them without complaint. Then he lay back and closed his eyes. I shook my head and went downstairs. Yiayia was up and making breakfast. She smiled mischievously at me when I came in.

"Sleep well?" she asked.

"Very well," I replied, knowing it was no use pretending.

Yiayia hugged me, beaming. "He's the one, isn't he?"

"Yes," I said, laughing shyly. "Although sometimes I wonder why I even bother. He's worse than Christo in the morning."

"Oh, dear," Yiayia said, eyebrows raised. "That is impressive."

"That's one word for it," I agreed. "'Infuriating' works, too."

"Well, have some breakfast," Yiayia said. "I want to hear all about him. I don't suppose he speaks Greek?"

"No," I admitted. "But he does speak French and Russian. I'm sure he'll pick up Greek without too much trouble."

"Does he dance?"

"He dances very well—not our kind of dances, but he can learn. He sings, too. And he rides and fences—and he's a boxer."

"He certainly looks fit—or he looks like he's normally fit," Yiayia amended.

"He is," I said. "He's really an amazing man—at the moment, an amazingly cranky, rude, boorish man, but amazing nonetheless."

We chatted for a while about Draco and about various family members who would be arriving soon. I went back up to check on Draco periodically and give him either tea or soup. We tried giving him something a little more substantial, but he threw it up. This continued for a couple of days and it was wearing us both a little thin.

"I'm hungry," he said peevishly one morning.

"I'll make you some soup," I said automatically.

"I don't want soup."

"I don't care if you don't want soup," I informed him. "I'm not going to clean up a huge pile of vomit just because you don't want soup."

"I didn't throw up yesterday."

"You had soup yesterday," I pointed out.

"I am not eating any more soup." There was a steely edge to his voice that did not bode well.

"Well, then I guess you won't have any breakfast, will you?" I snapped, tying my running shoes, which I'd had to dig out from under the bed.

I ran out into the warm spring morning and grinned in spite of my irritation with Draco. It was such a beautiful day that nothing seemed to matter anymore. It didn't matter that Draco's morning crankiness lasted well into the day as a result of prolonged bed rest (he hated being cooped up as much as I did) or that the most physical contact I'd had with him after that first night was taking his temperature or that the most romantic—or even civil—thing he'd said to me since then was 'you look like you could use a shower'. None of that mattered. Really.

I came back after my run feeling refreshed and much calmer. Until I walked into the kitchen to find Draco, barefoot and bare-chested, raiding the refrigerator. He looked up at me with an expression of mixed guilt and defiance and clutched a loaf of bread protectively to his chest. I rolled my eyes and held out a hand. The loaf slid from his grasp and flew to my hand.

"If you want solid food that badly, I could put some meat and potatoes in your soup," I offered. "A little bit, anyway."

"Your grandmother said she would," Draco answered. "I want to come running with you tomorrow."

I blinked. "Excuse me? This is the first time I've seen you out of bed. Forget it."

"I'm coming with you," he growled. "Or I'll go by myself. I have to get out of this house."

"Is there something wrong with this house?" I asked, eyes narrowing.

Draco glared at me. "You know what I mean."

"Fine," I said after a moment. "But I'm not slowing down for you."

Draco nodded and smiled suddenly as if nothing was wrong. "I can transfigure your necklace back now, if you like."

"It's about time," I huffed. "I've been washing the same two outfits over and over for three days."

"How many times do you need to wash something?" Draco protested. "It couldn't have gotten that dirty."

"You puking five thousand times a day helped the process along considerably," I said pointedly. "Let's go upstairs, shall we? I don't feel like lugging my suitcase up the stairs."

We went upstairs and I took my necklace off as Draco reached under the pillow for his wand. He took the necklace from me and put on the floor before pointing his wand at it and muttering something under his breath. The cross turned into a tiny miniature suitcase. He waved his wand and muttered something again and the suitcase grew to its normal size. I pounced on it and ripped it open.

"Clean clothes," I said rapturously. Suddenly I noticed Draco setting something else on the floor. It looked like a key chain. "What are you doing?"

"Getting my clothes," he said, as if it were obvious. "I can't very well meet your family like this."

"What do you mean, meet my family?" I asked. "Easter's not for another two weeks."

"I'm having dinner with you and your grandparents and your cousin and his parents tonight," Draco said casually. "Your grandmother said so."

"She did?"

"Yes," Draco said, nodding and waving his wand. "And I told her I was going to marry you. She seemed pleased. I still need to ask your grandfather, though."

"Really."

"I thought I would do it tonight after dinner," he continued conversationally. "In private, of course."

"Aren't you forgetting someone?" I asked in a slightly strangled voice.

Draco looked up with a puzzled look on his face. "Am I?"

"Oh, I don't know... me, for instance?"

"Sorry, I should have clarified," Draco said. "I'm going to ask your grandfather for his permission to ask you to marry me."

"Aren't you taking it for granted that I'll marry you?" I asked a little huffily. "I mean, you seem to have this all planned out."

"I—what?" Draco stared at me incredulously. "What are you talking about?"

"You're talking about this like it's all settled and you haven't even proposed," I said accusingly. "And you said I was smelly."

"I did not! And anyway, didn't I say that I'm asking your grandfather first? I can't very well propose and then ask his permission to propose, can I?"

"You did so say I was smelly. You said I could use a shower."

"I threw up on you!"

"And a proposal is supposed to be romantic and a surprise—this...it's like planning your own surprise party." I glared at him. "You've been a complete bastard for the past three days and now you're acting like asking me to marry you is no big deal."

Draco stared at me like I had grown an extra three heads. Then he scowled and kicked his trunk open.

"I'd like to see how well you handle being locked in one room with nothing to do but vomit and eat soup," he snapped, rummaging around in his trunk. "Forgive me for not having the roses and love sonnets ready."

"A civil conversation would have been enough," I shot back. "Every time you open your mouth lately, it's to whine or say something nasty."

"Excuse me, I do not whine," Draco growled.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot," I said sarcastically. "The English term is 'whinge'."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," Draco groaned, sitting on the bed.

"Fine," I spat, and turned on my heel. I passed Yiayia on my way out and snarled, "I'm going running."

I ran out into the sunlight for the second time that day and had to run for a considerably longer period of time before I cooled off. By that time, I was hot and sweaty so I headed to my beach to greet my friends, the Nereids. I dove into the water and they cavorted around me as dolphins and seals or as beautiful young women or mermaids. I laughed right along and did my best to keep up with them. We were playing tag when a new nymph, Kanake, swam up in dolphin form. She looked distressed. "They're back," she said (to this day I have no idea how they could talk in animal form). "They're at the caverns again."

"Who?" I asked, confused. "What caverns?"

"Maybe Ariadne will know what they are," another nymph exclaimed. "Let's take her with us."

The others clamored in agreement and I took hold of Kanake's dorsal fin. The others all took dolphin form as well and we sped off into the ocean. I wasn't afraid; as long as I was touching one of them, I would be able to breathe—and I knew they wouldn't let me come to any harm. Thetis would have their heads.

When we finally stopped, we were much farther from shore than I'd ever been with them. Thankfully, we were near enough an island so that the rocky bottom wasn't dangerously deep. I peered around, looking for what they were talking about, and saw it. Or them, actually. There were three ... creatures ... poking around the rocks as if looking for something. I moved forward and Kanake moved with me. What were they?

I got close enough to see them clearly and almost lost my grip on Kanake. They were people—mutated people. They had webbed feet and hands and gills. There were two males and one female. I noted with some confusion that they were all wearing bathing suits. In fact, the girl's bikini was really cute. I found myself wondering where she got it.

Wait a minute. Two men and a woman. I thought back to that night in London and felt a small shiver of fear. Were they looking for me? Were they mad that I bit one of them? No, that didn't make sense. Even if they somehow made a connection between me and the wolf, how could they have traced me here? And why would they be looking for me underwater? No, I decided. They weren't looking for me. But what were they looking for?

"Let's go back," I said to Kanake. "I have no idea what they're doing. They're human, though. I don't know why they have gills, but they're human."

"We should tell Father," someone said nervously. "They shouldn't be here."

"Take me home, first, please," I said firmly. "I should tell Draco. He might have some clue as to what they're doing."

"Oooh, tell us about your Dragon," another gushed. "Thetis says you're going to marry him. You're going to invite us, aren't you?"

The rest of the ride home was spent talking about Draco, which alternately amused and irritated me. I was still kind of mad at him. Guys can be such morons sometimes. The worst of it is that they're completely oblivious. I swear, some of them could sleep with their girlfriend's sister and honestly have no clue that they did anything wrong. It's like being mad at a four year old.

When I got back to the house, I took a shower and put on a light dress for dinner. I wiggled a little, enjoying the swishy feeling of the dress. I loved wearing dresses and skirts. Everything else was so... confining. You know, if it weren't illegal to walk around naked, I probably would. I hate how some clothes restrict your movement or are itchy and hot and uncomfortable—the world would definitely be a better place if it were one huge nudist colony. I mean, Hitler would have been a much happier person if he could just—mm—let it all hang out every once in a while.

Okay... that was probably too much information. We'll move on with the story. Draco joined us for dinner and smiled charmingly at my family and me. I smiled blandly back as I helped my grandmother serve the food. There was a sort of awkward silence as my relatives tried to curb their natural inclination to ask him—well, everything. Being nosy is what Greek people do best. They see no problems with asking you what you do for a living, how much you get paid, what your social security number is, whether you've had sex with your secretary, etc. My plea for privacy was more serious than you might realize.

"So how did you and Kahtia meet?" Voula finally asked.

"Kahtia?" Draco asked in confusion, then looked at me. "Oh, Ari. I was her uncle's intern."

"I thought Kahti said MacTavees was a crook," my grandfather said, scowling.

I was tempted to let Draco fry in the sizzling pan of Papou's wrath, but then I remembered that, despite his recent bout of Moronic Male Syndrome, he was the man of my dreams and my one true love and all that. I gave Papou his food and patted his shoulder.

"Draco got me away from him," I said reassuringly. Not strictly true, but close enough. To satisfy my family's need for drama and to help Draco out, I added in Greek (I didn't want Draco to think I had forgiven him so easily) "He almost died trying to save me."

My family nodded appreciatively and beamed at Draco, praising him loudly and enthusiastically. This, at least, they understood. The circumstances didn't matter when it came down to it. He had saved my life—that was enough. Papou clapped him on the back and Yiayia kissed him soundly on both cheeks, as did theiaVoula. Christo and theio Parasko shook his hand vigorously. Draco smiled and nodded, but I could tell he had very little idea of what was going on. I observed his discomfort and laughed inside. Hah. Squirm, you insensitive little cockroach.

On the upside, Papou would most definitely give his permission for us to get married. That was something. Meanwhile, Draco was winning over my family with every word he uttered—and I noted with amazement that a lot of them were Greek. He must have had an amazing ear for languages. I mean, it wasn't like he was talking in complete sentences, but he knew several phrases and picked up even more as the meal progressed—and his accent wasn't bad at all. As the night wore on, I found it harder and harder to stay mad at him. Eventually I gave it up. I'd never been able to stay mad at him for long; trying to start now would be a bust.

After dinner, I noticed that Draco was looking a little pale and sent him up to bed—in French, so his fragile male pride wouldn't get hurt. He went without argument and my other menfolk went to do whatever it is men do for fun. Theia Voula and I helped Yiayia clean up and we chatted.

"What a nice boy," theia Voula said approvingly. "I thought you said he didn't speak Greek, mama."

"He doesn't," I answered for my grandmother. "He just has a really good ear."

"And a really good everything else," my aunt added with a mischievous grin.

"Theia!" I squealed.

"Kahti is going to marry him," Yiayia said proudly. "He's going to ask Christoforos's permission soon."

"He'd better ask soon," I muttered, and they laughed.

"You know who else is getting married?" theia asked. "Lazaros Dounas and Roula Chrysanthopoulou."

"It's about time," I said excitedly. "When's the wedding?"

"Mid-may," theia Voula told me with a sigh. "It will be beautiful."

I'd grown up with them and it had been obvious that they were going to get married and have lots of babies since they hit puberty. I was a few years younger, but it was still glaringly obvious. Of course, this meant that I couldn't have my wedding in May. That kind of sucked. On the other hand, if I waited till later in the year, there would be figs and peaches and plums and tomatoes and all sorts of yummy things for the party.

"Thinking about your wedding?" theia Voula asked, chuckling, and dried her hands. "Well, I have to go—why don't you stop by tomorrow, Kahti? I have some sketches I want you to look at."

"I will," I promised. My aunt was a seamstress—and a damn good one, too. People came from all over the place to have her make wedding dresses, tapestries, traditional costumes for parades and dancing exhibitions—you name it. As she left, I noticed Yiayia looking at me with tears in her eyes.

"Ah, kouklitsa, I'm so happy for you. I wish your parents could see you now."

I smiled sadly. "Me too. Yiayia, why didn't my mother's family keep in touch after she died? I didn't even know I had an uncle until right before Baba died."

"You don't just have an uncle," Yiayia informed me. "His wife was one of your mother's three sisters."

"I have three aunts?" I exclaimed. "And none of them ever contacted me?"

"Well, John MacTavish's wife died years and years ago before you were born," Yiayia explained. "Poor Rothoula was crushed when she heard. As for the other two—one was a complete hag but the other was such a sweet girl. They were very close."

"So what happened to her?" I asked.

"Dead," Yiayia said sadly. "And they only saw each other once before she died."

"Why?"

"Your mother never really explained why," Yiayia said with a frown, "but her sister made her leave England—for her own safety, she said. Rothoula never said what was wrong. In any case, her sister came to her wedding and that was the last time they saw each other."

"Did you meet her?" I asked. "What was her name?"

"Krini," Yiayia said with a little smile. "Well, that's what we called her—it's so hard to say English names. She said she didn't mind. I remember I laughed because she had bright red hair and your mother's hair was so pale. They both had the same pretty eyes, though. You have your mother's eyes."

"But my eyes are hazel," I protested.

"It's close enough," Yiayia said dismissively. "And anyway, the shape is the same—and the expression. She always looked like she knew something no else knew and thought it was funny."

"You knew her well?" I asked, feeling a little jealous.

"Oh, yes," Yiayia said. "She and your father used to visit every summer, just like you do. I think she liked having our family since she couldn't see hers. And she was part of the family. We all miss her."

"Draco will be part of the family, won't he?" I asked. "He lost his family, too."

"Of course he will, koukla," Yiayia assured me. "Everyone will love him—if only because you love him."

"He's not Greek, though—do you think that'll be a problem?" My dad always said I could marry whoever I wanted, but I knew that everyone was hoping I would marry a nice Greek boy.

"It's okay, we'll make him Greek," Yiayia said dismissively. "Your mother turned out fine. If it weren't for her hair, no one would have guessed she wasn't Greek."

"Yiayia, do you have any pictures of her?" I asked. "We didn't have any—Baba said it hurt too much."

"I think I can find something," Yiayia said. "Why don't you go to bed? Your Dragon said you've had a bit of a rough day."

"What?"

"He told me about your fight," Yiayia explained. "Now, you need to remember that he's very sick and cranky and uncomfortable. I'm not excusing him—I straightened him out, don't worry about that. Just try to be patient. If he's still being a vlakas when he's healthy, then we can think about more drastic measures."

I laughed and went upstairs to change. When I peeked into my room, however, Draco wasn't there. I pushed the door open and looked around. I shrugged. Maybe he was in the bathroom. I changed quickly into a pair of boxers and a tee shirt and took my hair out of its clip before going back downstairs to my bed (the couch). I wasn't really sleepy yet, so I found my stash of DVD's, popped in French Kiss, and curled up with a pillow and a blanket.

Charlie was just telling Kate that he was leaving her for some French ho-bag when Draco walked in the front door, grinning like a loon. As I sputtered incoherently, he swept me up in his arms, blanket and all, and swung me around.

"What are you doing out of bed?" I demanded indignantly. "And where were you?"

"I was asking your grandfather's permission to marry you," he replied. "And he said yes."

Even though I knew there was virtually no way that my grandfather would say no, this bit of news still made a little balloon of excitement pop inside my chest. I grinned and hugged Draco tightly, pressing my face against his chest. I was going to get married. It made me feel kind of dizzy.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked curiously.

"Um...giving you a hug?"

"No, I mean, the box with pictures," Draco said. "What is it?"

"Oh, it's a movie," I told him. "Like a play, only on screen."

"Oh," Draco said. He sounded intrigued. "How does it work?"

"You know, I learned about it in physics, but I don't remember a thing," I said. "It's powered by electricity, though."

"Electricity," Draco said with a nod. "That's the Muggle substitute for magic, right?"

"I guess you could look at it like that," I shrugged.

"Can I watch it with you?"

"Are you sure you want to? It's kind of a chick flick."

"What's a chick flick?"

If he didn't know what a chick flick was, I wasn't going to tell him. "Oh...mmm...nothing. Sure you can watch it with me. It's a great movie." We sat down on the couch. "It started already, but not too long ago."

"What's going on?"

"Okay, so that's Kate. She's an American citizen living in Canada with her fiancée and she's waiting to get her Canadian citizenship. He had to go to Paris for business and he wanted her to go with him but she's afraid of flying and can't leave the country until she has her citizenship. So right now she's flipping out because he just called her to tell her that he's staying in France with his new girlfriend. Who is a big fat whore, by the way."

"She's fat? How do you know that?"

"Well, she's not really fat—she's supposed to be a complete babe, but I don't think she's that pretty," I said. "I've seen this movie a million times."

"So why are you watching it again?"

"Because I like it. Now, shut up and watch the movie."

We watched the movie and Draco loved it. He agreed that Juliette wasn't that pretty, but I think that was because he didn't want to get in trouble. After French Kiss, we watched Star Wars, which he didn't really understand, but he liked the fight scenes. He appreciated Mr. and Mrs. Smith very much and assured me that I was much prettier than Angelina Jolie.

And then we watched The Notebook.

I had this theory that guys were just the product of their environment and that a completely objective viewer who had never been exposed to high school culture (like Draco) would be free to enjoy and appreciate the movie. Or that highschool guys were just too immature to grasp the concept of such a deep, undying passion and that a man of culture and refinement and maturity (like Draco) would see that it really is a beautiful, wonderful story. Or at least that said innocent man of culture and refinement wouldn't know any better and watch the freaking movie with me.

No.

It's true—The Notebook truly is reserved for those who lack testicles and those who like testicles too much. Five minutes into the movie Draco started moaning and groaning about how stupid it was. I made him sit through it and he completely ruined the ending by complaining that Noah didn't even get to shag his wife before she died.

After that, I was too tired to move so we just lay there and talked while Draco rubbed my feet. I, who had never had a foot massage before, was practically swooning with pleasure. It was wonderful. Especially since I'd run about ten miles that day.

"What's this from?" Draco asked, tracing the scars on the back of my leg.

"Oh, that?" I said dismissively. "A girl spiked me in a race last year."

"What do you mean, spiked you?"

"When we race, we wear shoes with metal spikes on the bottom," I explained. "It helps you go faster."

"That sounds kind of dangerous," Draco said, frowning.

"Nah," I yawned. "They're only really sharp when you first put them in. I have plenty of scars, though. There are some nifty-looking ones from when I tried pole-vaulting—I landed funny and spiked myself so that I have the pattern of my spikes on my thigh. I decided to stick to running after that."

"Were you good at it?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "I miss it. The competition, I mean. I hold the county records for the four hundred, the four hundred hurtles, and the high hurtles. I wasn't too shabby at the eight hundred and the sixteen hundred, either. Maybe someone's broken my records, though. The season must have started by now."

"I'd like to see you race some day," Draco mused sleepily.

"I don't know how that'll happen," I said sadly. "But hey, you can race me tomorrow."

"I don't think it'll be much of a race," Draco muttered, and yawned. "Good night, Ari."

"Just stay here," I said as he moved to get up. "You make a good foot rest."

"Alright." Draco settled back and I was just drifting off to sleep when I suddenly remembered something.

"Draco!"

Draco jerked awake. "What? What's wrong?"

"I forgot to tell you; I saw those people—the Golden Trio or whatever—they were poking around underwater trying to find something. And they all looked weird—they had gills and webbed feet. It was really gross, actually. The nereids took me to see them because they didn't know what they were doing. I couldn't figure it out, either."

"Nereids?"

"Sea nymphs."

"Oh. Are you sure it was them?"

"Not certain, no. But who else would it be?"

Draco ran a hand through his hair thoughtfully. "I just can't think of what they might be doing. I mean, there's very little chance that they know we're here, so I doubt they're following us."

"When they broke into your room in London they were trying to find something but they didn't know exactly what it was," I said. "Maybe they're looking for a weapon or something."

"Maybe," Draco said doubtfully. "Do you think you could take me to the place where you saw them?"

"Um...possibly," I said cautiously.

I'd have to ask Thetis. And I would have to explain about being able to see the gods. But then, if I was marrying him, I'd have to tell him sometime, right? Shit. He'd think I was insane. Maybe I should tell him after the wedding? No, that would be cowardly. I may be a big wuss sometimes, but that just wasn't fair.

"Ari? What's wrong?"

"Draco...if I tell you something will you promise to believe me?" I bit my lip and looked at him anxiously.

"If you promise that it's true," he replied equably.

"Well—have you wondered at all why you survived the curse?" I asked.

"Only about three hundred times a day," Draco said, sounding a little exasperated. "Why? Do you know?"

"I healed you," I blurted and added, very quickly, "Apollo helped me."

"Who's Apollo?"

My mouth clicked shut on what I had been about to say and I glared at him. "Who is Apollo? Who is Apollo? What are you culturally inept or something? The god of reason, light, music, healing, athletics, the arts, prophecy, archery, law--"

"That's not what I meant," Draco said. "I know who he's named after. But who helped you?"

"I told you," I snapped, blushing beet red. "Apollo. The god, Apollo."

"You're saying that the Greek Sun God helped you heal me?" There was a ripple of disbelief in his voice—and amusement, perhaps?

"Actually, he's not the sun god; Helios is. And yes, he did."

He looked like he was trying to contain a smile. "Ari, I'm not belittling the power of prayer, but--"

"I'm not talking about faith healing," I said, fairly calmly (I thought). "I mean Apollo was there. I asked him to heal you, but he said I had to do it."

"You mean to tell me that he was actually, physically there," Draco said slowly. "Apollo. The god."

"Draco, you promised you'd believe me," I reminded him, struggling to hold on to my temper.

"You want me to believe that the gods actually exist," he cried. "That's kind of asking a lot, don't you think?"

"You said yourself that you should have died," I shot back. "You said there was no counter curse, no chance of survival. And yet you did survive and you don't know why. Well, I just told you."

Draco was silent for a moment. "If they're real, then why doesn't everyone know it?"

"I don't know," I said with a shrug. "I've always been able to see them. Maybe it's something about me or maybe it's because they want me to see them. But they do exist and they don't like it when mortals get uppity. So watch it."

"Then why hasn't one of them zapped the Dark Lord with a lightening bolt or something?" Draco argued.

"They're Greek gods, not British gods. Their power lies here," I explained. "There's magic in the land and the sea and the air; I can feel it. I don't think it's the same kind of magic that you use."

"And these nereids," Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I take it they're not just mermaids."

"No," I confirmed. "Minor deities, all of them. Tomorrow I'll take you to see Thetis and she'll decide whether you're allowed to swim with her nymphs."

"Is Thetis a goddess?" Draco asked wearily.

"No, she's a nereid," I said. "But she married a mortal thousands of years ago and had a son. Achilles. Whom she'll no doubt compare you to with great enthusiasm and little mercy."

Draco groaned. "This can't be happening."

"You know, for a wizard, you're very narrow minded," I commented scathingly.

"Alright, alright, I believe you," Draco muttered. "Let me go to sleep."

"No you don't," I grumbled mutinously. "But you will. The gods will see to that."

Draco snorted in reply and patted my foot. I shoved my toe in his nose and then curled up into a ball, thinking dark thoughts. Even though I was miffed at Draco for not completely believing me, I was kind of worried. No doubt Hermes would take this as an opportunity to wreak havoc. It would be just like him to dangle Draco over a pit of molten lava by his toes or something to make sure Draco acknowledged his divinity.

"Oh, come here," Draco cried exasperatedly, pulling me across the couch and settling me so that my head rested on his chest. "I can practically feel you sulking over there. Look, if you say it's true, I believe you. I can't really wrap my mind around it yet, but I trust you. Now go to sleep."

"You're just saying that because you want to go to sleep," I said accusingly, but it was half-hearted at best.

"No, you're just saying that because you're mad at me and you want to punish me through sleep deprivation."

"No, if I wanted to do that I wouldn't argue with you—I have other methods."

"Well, arguing with me is doing a pretty good job of it at the moment," Draco said grumpily. "Just go to sleep!"

"Fine," I mumbled, then grinned and waited a few minutes before saying, "Draco?"

"What?" Draco moaned.

"Do you think we're soul mates?"

There was a beat of silence. "You are an evil, soulless harpy. If you weren't my fiancée, I would despise you."

"I'm rather fond of you, too," I murmured, and cuddled closer. "Goodnight, Draco."

Draco sighed in defeat. "Goodnight, Ari."