The car wound its way between the pines as it followed the track to the picnic spot. Rita for once was forced to keep her undivided attention on her driving leaving Marco free to admire the scenery in peace. Birds sang above them as they flitted from tree to tree and his sharp eyes made out a fox peering at them behind a bush. Happier than ever before he leaned back breathing in the clear air. You've been in this country almost three years, Almeida, and this is the loveliest spot you've ever visited. It's like you imagined paradise to be. He knew his feelings were greatly influenced by the presence of his companion who turned her face momentarily to grin at him.

'It's real beautiful here, isn't it?' she pressed.

'Sí,' he agreed. 'You got a spot in mind to pitch the tent?'

'Just leave it to me!' she told him, driving a little slower. 'You'll love it!'

He nodded; aware he would love any spot where they could spend three undisturbed days together, able to hold hands openly without the need to maintain a constant vigil for anyone who might be acquainted with Rita. 'Enjoy the warmth,' he teased, slipping his arm round her shoulders. 'You won't be getting much of that in Greenland!'

Rita sighed unhappily. 'It's not as though you'll be here,' she protested, wishing he could accompany her on the cruise.

'No. I must go home; my parents will be expecting me. There's always a lot of work needs to be done in the summer,' he explained lazily. 'They need me!' The final sentence was said cheerily masking his envy at her holiday plans. Get over it, Almeida. She's got the money and you don't. If you're honest, you'd love to see Greenland but you'd be real cold there. And there'd be no one to help at home… 'Anyway, it's only two months,' he said, squeezing her hand. 'Then you got a year of me again!'

They fell silent at his final sentence, neither willing to broach the subject of what would follow once they completed their degrees. Rita forced her attention to the road shrugging all her concern about the future aside. There was another year before them to enjoy, another year of sneaking around behind her mother's back to meet Marco, another year of proof reading his assignments and accompanying him to Cubs games. She grinned at the final thought.

'Hmm?' he questioned, watching her. 'Spit it out, Rita. What have you got planned this time?'

'There's another game on the weekend,' she said, watching his face from the mirror. As expected he rolled his eyes and groaned aloud.

'Not another one! You can't expect me to attend again.'

'I can and I do,' she insisted, her eyes sparkling. 'Who else would I go with if not my boyfriend?'

'Your brother!' he replied, swatting a mosquito that had found its way inside.

'I like to go with you,' she teased, throwing him a look that melted his heart. 'And I love baseball, so you'll come watch! You know the rules now. Besides, our kids might like the game. You could be bringing them in the next ten years.'

Marco's eyes widened as he searched her face. Seems she still wants you, Almeida. He nodded slowly. 'Okay, I'll come with you.' You'll go anywhere with her, Almeida, you both know that! She just needs to name the place.

'You know you'll have to take our sons to baseball practice as well,' she continued, watching his horrified look in pure joy. 'It's the father's job,' she concluded while he nodded grimly.

'In that case, I hope we have girls!'

Rita reached forward swatting him on the thigh. 'We'll have both! I'm naming them, remember?'

Marco nodded, chewing his lip. 'I never forget anything, querida! Ouch.' He caught her hand as she swatted him again. 'You're not supposed to beat me up before the wedding. I might just do a runner!'

'You're going nowhere,' she told him firmly, narrowing her eyes. 'Hey, you talk too much. I nearly missed our turn!'

'Hah,' he cried, justifiably indignant. 'I've been talking!' She reversed rapidly, Marco glancing anxiously from his wound down window. 'Watch out, querida. The trees won't move!'

Rita glared at him and they moved forward, turning the car between two trees on a rough track left by larger vehicles in the grass. 'Are you saying something about my driving, Marco?'

He shook his head. 'No. After all, they managed to fix your car so well in the garage it looks new! Not your fault that electric pole refused to move! Ouch,' he yelped as she pinched his leg. 'Rita, that's it. I'm definitely escaping now. I mean, have you considered it from the pole's point of view. There it was, minding its own business standing in the same spot for years and you reversed into it. And you know what? I don't care what the city thinks, it's dangerous tilting like that now. It'll definitely hit the next driver who crashes into it. So querida, I don't think you should try parking there anytime soon. Ow ow ow…'

'For your information, Marco Almeida, I was in a hurry that day,' Rita defended herself. 'I was rushing to meet you. This is ridiculous, you know,' she concluded gloomily. 'After these holidays I'm going to speak to Papa.'

Marco regarded her dubiously. 'If you're sure it's the right idea,' he said grimly. 'Things haven't changed all that much, sweetheart. I'm still a Mexican student with very little money.'

Rita squeezed his hand, her eyes filled with love. 'I don't care how much you got, Marco. You'll earn more once you graduate.' She stopped the car and he gasped in awe at the sight that met his eyes. A shallow brook gurgled into the lake surrounded by weeping willows. Tall pines towered beyond them having the appearance of a dozen magical paths that led into the forest. Knee high grass stretched to the brook and a myriad grasshoppers sang. Rounding a tiny headland he saw the lake, a family of ducks swimming in a line. Moved, he returned to his friend.

'It's beautiful,' he agreed. 'Nobody can even see us from here. We're alone.'

'You better believe it,' Rita replied. 'We didn't drive all this way to see others. Aren't you going to give me a hand with the stuff?'

Marco shrugged, eyeing her. 'I don't know, am I?'

Rita hissed at him, and he backed off, laughing aloud. 'What did you say?'

'I said I surrender, I'm coming. You're cruel, you know, making me work at siesta time!'

'You'll get your siesta once you set the tent up,' she decided, pointing to a sunny patch. 'Set it up there, will you? I'll get the things.'

He opened the tent, placing their bags of clothes inside while she spread a rug on the grass under a willow. Knowing she was watching he forced himself to ignore the lunch preparations as he struggled over to her with the box of food. 'I got everything set up, Rita. Is there anything else you'd like me to do before I have a siesta?' he teased.

'Yeah, eat,' she said, laughing at him. 'Sit down.' She opened a box of salad and pushed the packets of sandwiches over to him. Mouth watering he selected a ham sandwich, leaning against the box to munch it. Rita searched through the remaining packets till she discovered her favorite egg sandwich, whereupon she settled beside him, her head on his shoulder. Marco slipped his arm round her, raising his eyebrows.

'Comfortable?'

'Aha,' she replied lazily, shutting her eyes to tilt her face towards the warm sun.

'Did you complete your assignment about the Declaration of Independence?' he inquired, finishing his sandwich and picking a second one at random from the dwindling pile.

Rita shook her head, opening her mouth to explain but dissolving into peals of laughter instead. Marco narrowed his eyes, watching her in amusement as she sat beside him shaking with laughter, the half eaten sandwich jerking in her hand. 'I couldn't…' she began, shaking her head rapidly as she dissolved into fresh gales of merriment.

He shook his head, unable to prevent himself joining her laughter. 'Okay, Rita, what did you do this time?' he inquired lazily. 'You got something to confess again. I swear you got more character than a hundred others!'

Rita stared at him and swallowed a little juice, making a concerted effort to explain. 'Remember the book I had, the one I was using for the assignment?' He nodded patiently. 'Well, it was one of those in heavy demand that wasn't supposed to be borrowed from the library, and I knew I'd need it the next day too, so I…'

His eyes narrowed to tiny slits. 'What did you do with it, querida? You didn't smuggle it out?' he questioned.

'No. I done better. I hid it somewhere! I took it down to the accounting section, and I put it between two thick accounting books. It was the logical thing to do, Marco. Will you quit looking at me like that?' She slapped his arm. 'I really needed that book one more day! Anyway, no one doing accounting would take that book, and no one doing history would know where I hid it, so I was sure I'd have it the next morning, except…'

'What?' he inquired, intrigued. 'One of the accountants actually decided to read a little history?'

'Oh no, get real! No, what happened was silly really. I forgot to make note of the shelf number, so I couldn't find my book either. I kept going round and round…I remembered it was near some fire extinguisher, but there were quite a few…' Marco shook his head at her, chewing his lip to hide his gathering amusement. 'And as I was searching this librarian came. You know they never come when you're actually looking for something, but now she came alright, and asked can she help me with anything. I said no, I'm just browsing.'

Marco spat his mouthful of cheese sandwich out in a hurry before he could choke on it, the tears of amusement sparkling in his eyes. 'Hijole, Rita! That was terrible,' he groaned, pulling her towards him. 'You got zero consideration of others. Didn't your parents teach you how to share?'

She gave a slight shake of the head. She's honest, at any rate. They probably haven't! 'You got a punishment, querida,' he said gently, turning her to face him. 'You're gonna spend the rest of your life sharing your stuff with others! Just wait and see! We all get our worst weaknesses thrown at us.'

'You missed your vocation,' she murmured, half asleep in the warm sun. 'You should've studied psychiatry. Anyway, let's have our siesta.' Without further comment she curled up on the rug and shut her eyes.

Marco shook his head at her and packed the food away before it could spoil after which he curled up on the opposite end of the picnic rug. Grasshopper chirping lulled him to sleep. Why can't it always be this warm round here?

Icy drops of water hitting his nose from a couple of inches above him shocked him awake an hour later. Rita knelt above him splashing him from a bucket, her eyes sparkling with fun. Using his military training he reached out to grab her without opening his eyes more than a crack. Her split second reactions proved faster than his. She leapt to her feet giggling, backing away behind the trees. 'Wake up.'

'You just wait, Rita Torres,' he called, scrambling to his feet in mock indignation. 'You're gonna regret waking a sleeping Mexican. That's one thing you never, ever do if you hope to have a long life.'

She gave a squeal of fright as he advanced towards her, turning to run. Marco chased her between the trees, slowing to allow her to keep her distance whenever he approached too close as he enjoyed the game immensely. There was something primeval chasing the most beautiful girl he had ever seen through the woods, something that set his heart pumping when he eventually caught her and swung her into his arms, gasping for breath as he ignored her pleas for mercy, dumping her into the lake. 'Cooled down yet?' he questioned, unwisely bending forward to watch her gasping in shock. The next instant he felt his arm yanked and he toppled forward into the icy water himself, landing on top of her.

The unexpected drenching took his breath away. Rita watched him from a distance of a couple of feet, apparently acclimatized. 'Cold, is it?' she teased.

'Cold as the grave,' he groaned, rubbing the water from his hair.

'You need to get moving to warm up,' she told him swimming to join him. 'We'll have a race, Marco. Over to that log and back. The one who touches the bank first is the winner, and there's absolutely no cheating allowed.'

'But I'm dressed,' he protested in futility as she had already set off.

'I'm wearing mine too,' she yelled, swimming as fast as she could. Marco set off, determined to catch up with her, but her swimming was a lot better than his and she beat him by a full minute, laughing in triumph. 'I won.'

He nodded grimly, helping her out of the lake. 'You did. The winner's got to cook tonight! That's the only reason I let you win, Rita!'

'Rubbish,' she exclaimed indignantly. 'You just made that up now. You're a sore loser, Marco. Tell you what; I'll cook if you find me enough logs to light a fire.'

'Somehow, you always end up with the better deal,' he complained good naturedly. 'I'll do that as soon as I find a dry t-shirt!' He rummaged through his belongings dressing outside while she dressed in the tent, unable to resist staring at him as he stripped. Eye to the unzipped crack she watched him fling his wet clothes in a pile on the grass, rubbing himself with a worn towel. Mesmerized she allowed her imagination free rein, trying to picture what it would feel like to be made love to. A slight gasp escaped her as he bent to retrieve his dry clothes and the moment was ruined. Quick as a flash he pulled the towel round himself, turning to glare in her direction. 'Rita!'

'I'm just, I was only, I didn't see…' she stammered, embarrassed into incoherence.

'You were watching,' he said, turning crimson.

She chewed her lip guiltily hoping he wouldn't pack his bag and leave.

'You're terrible,' he said, beginning to laugh. 'Just how would you feel if I had taken a peek at you?'

Thrilled, really! Such a shame you're so honest. She shook her head speechless.

Marco's eyes narrowed as he read her thoughts, his heart racing. 'I'll go collect those logs,' he mumbled, throwing his shoes on as he hastened away before he could show her his own growing desire. Get a grip, Almeida. If you can't control yourself better than that you'll have to take a dive into that icy lake again! It was fully twenty minutes before he trusted himself enough to return, laying the logs into a circle and lighting a fire. Face turned from her he fussed over it, blowing on the tiny flame to encourage it to spread. The fire burned steadily before he risked a glance in her direction noting her shiver in the breeze.

'You're cold,' he said gently, pulling her over to the fire. 'Sit there and warm up. Hey, your hair's wet.' He found his towel, rubbing her thick hair a few strands at a time. 'You don't want to end up with a cold and spoil your Greenland cruise.'

Her heart ached at the slight tremble in his voice. He was obviously going to miss her as much as she missed him and suddenly the thought of not seeing him for almost three months was more than she could bear. A slight sob escaped her.

'Hey, you'll have fun,' he whispered attempting to comfort her. 'Think of all those ice-bergs. They looked great in that brochure.'

Rita shook her head, too cold to wish to consider ice-bergs.

'Your t-shirt's wet,' he announced, running a finger along her back. 'It's soaked, querida. Your hair must have dripped on it. Why don't you go change?'

Rita nodded, sniffing. She was halfway to the tent before she paused, rushing back to him. 'I don't want to go to Greenland without you, Marco. I don't want to spend even one day without you,' she wept, sinking into his arms.

Startled he hugged her towards him, stroking her hair and muttering comments about how quickly the time would pass in her ear, all the while aware she couldn't possibly hear him through her sobs. He wished he knew how to cheer her up as he hated the flood of tears that poured over his fingers. 'Shh Rita,' he whispered, terrified he would weep himself at the thought of not seeing her for the entire summer. 'Where's your bag? You need a dry t-shirt.'

'I didn't bring anymore,' she sobbed, burying her face in his neck. 'I was packing when mom got home…' There's no way she would've believed I needed more than two for a day's babysitting little Tom. She flushed, aware that she had indeed lied to her mother, a serious lie this time. Miguel, the proud father of a two year had agreed to back her up and pretend she spent the weekend babysitting, shaking his head at her. "Enjoy the day with Hobo!"

'I'll lend you one,' he said, fumbling through his bag in gathering despair at the sight of his faded clothes. He selected a red t-shirt that looked reasonable and handed it to her. 'Put it on.'

Rita appeared too upset to do anything at the moment, reaching her arms up like a young child. Marco swallowed, his heartbeat increasing again as he pulled it off her. Shaking hands held out his own t-shirt to her, pulling it over her head as she settled on his lap. His lips touched her neck of their own volition and kissed her, moving lower. She shivered in his arms, snuggling closer to him. Her face turned towards his and he grasped her arms, kissing her passionately as he lowered her onto the rug. Her arms reached for his hair curling it onto her fingers. 'I want…' her hands tugged his own t-shirt. 'I want you, Marco. Properly.'

He gazed at her startled, his excitement rising while he struggled to fight it down. 'Querida, it's wrong.'

'Hiding you from everyone for two years was wrong too. I'm so sorry, my friend. I should've just told them all where to go,' she said breathless, her cheeks a little flushed. 'Can you ever forgive me?'

'There's nothing to forgive,' he insisted, watching while she pulled his shirt over his head. Heart pounding he drew her closer to him looking questioningly at her. 'You real sure?' he whispered, aware he would indeed need to submerge in the icy lake for several hours if she changed her mind.

'Yeah,' she whispered. 'I want you.'

Gentle fingers caressed her while he leaned forward, kissing every inch of her body as he removed her clothes.

Marco ran his fingers through her hair as they sat together hours later, his eyes on the dark lake before them. A crescent moon bobbed on the surface surrounded by stars and the reflection cast by his dying fire. Her hair was slightly damp to his touch, her body warm in his arms. He swallowed as he hugged her, aware she had cast a spell over him he would never be able to break free from. Not that he wanted to. Rita Torres had his heart and he would love her till his dying day. Staring at the moon he resolved to buy her a ring and present it to her before she left for her vacation, even if she chose to hide it.

Rita shifted slightly, laying her head against his chest. Her gaze followed the tops of the trees waving in the breeze as she relived every minute of the previous two hours. She trembled slightly as she recalled the passion he had aroused as he kissed her, his strength and gentleness as he had taken her, his words of reassurance as the two of them merged together. She would follow him to the end of the earth if necessary.