If someone had asked her where she wanted to go in life, what countries she desperately wanted to see, what new experiences she wanted to have in her travels, riding up a cliff on the back of a broken down donkey in sweltering heat of an island in Greece, would not have been on the list. In fact, if Veronica never had to see a donkey-ever again, after they got where they were going of course, she would be a happy camper. Never, actually would probably be too soon, and she had a feeling that the donkey felt the same way.

"You do know that there's no other way down, right?" What? Glancing over at her companion who lazed as comfortably on his own donkey as he would on his Lazee Boy, she scowled.

"You know, honey," She cooed, sugary sweetness that she did not feel oozing out of her lips. "When I said, 'for our Honeymoon you can pick anywhere in the world for us to go! Anywhere at all!' I was thinking more along the lines of deep sea diving in Barbados, white water rafting in the wilds of Canada, sitting on the beaches of Morocco drinking something with a little red umbrella in it." She was well aware of the fact that her voice had gone shrill, but she was fairly certain her donkey had ticks and that one of them was now resting on her thigh. Fabulous. "Where is my little red umbrella, Logan? Where is my beach? The last time I went to the beach, there were no freaking DONKEYS." She'd been trying to keep her voice low. The locals had already been so kind to them, even though the language barrier was a tough one to cross and she didn't want to seem like an ungracious twit. But at the mention of the word donkey, the man driving hers glanced back in excitement.

"Oh YES! Donkey good, eh?" He called, waving his hat merrily and not particularly looking where he was going.

Veronica felt her stomach dropping just a little father. They were riding up a gorge. A very rocky, very dangerous looking gorge-and there didn't seem to be a guardrail in sight.

"I hate you." She muttered to her husband of all of 72 hours before looking forward to her driver and smiling as prettily as she could. "Yes, donkey good!" She called back, and she was fairly certain that even the non English-speaking donkey laughed at that.

"Veronica, look around. It's beautiful here. There's peace, there's quiet, the view is-"

"What are you going to do, Logan, when the hovel that we're staying in has no electricity? Or how about the fact that we don't speak the language?" Her hiss was venomous, her eyes cutting, but instead of going green, as she'd expected, his smile only brightened.

"I don't need electricity for what I have planned." His eyebrows danced comically, and if her shirt hadn't been sweat-glued to her back and her hair hadn't expanded to the size of Mt. Olympus (ha, ha) she would have laughed. She distinctly heard the words 'good lover, eh?' from the drivers in front of them, and felt her stomach drop again. This was not what she had planned.

"Do you know what I had planned, Logan?" She asked, her question a bit more pointed than she'd expected it to be. "Nice, comfy pajamas. A bed without a mosquito nets, a heated pool maybe. Not to be RIDING UP THE SIDE OF A FUCKING UNPROTECTED CLIFF ON THE BACK OF A DONKEY." There were suddenly many more people around than she'd anticipated. Both the drivers turned back to look, and there were washerwomen on the side of the road above them whose eyes narrowed at the sight of her. Her face, if possible, colored even more, and she hid her head in her hands, exhaustion roaring through her.

"Veronica, Veronica, it's Okay. Look. Look out there. Look at the view." She didn't want to. She really didn't want to, but his voice sounded so struck. So…unjaded that she couldn't not.

So she did. And it took her breath away.

"Are we that high up?" She breathed, her eyes as wide as saucers as she turned back to look at him, not even bothering to wait for his response before turning back to look. The sun was only now setting; it's red gold haze comfortably sinking against the horizon. She didn't think she'd ever seen something quite as beautiful.

"This probably wouldn't be a good time to develop a fear-of-heights complex, yes." He continued, oblivious to her awe.

"Shh." She whispered, leaning her hand back to touch it to his lips. "It's beautiful." His lips smiled against her finger, his eyes focused on her instead of the beauty of their surroundings.

"It certainly is." A beeping sound from above them claimed her attention suddenly, and she was treated to the sight of what appeared to be a large box with wheels turning the unprotected corner above their heads, going faster than any car she'd ever seen. The drivers seemed unfazed.

"Logan." Her voice was as cold as ice, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Yes, Veronica?"

"That was a car."

"Fascinating little things aren't they?" He murmured back, his lips tipping in the knowing smirk she'd known for years.

"You said that there were no cars." She was bordering on hysterics again, tears jumping to the corners of her eyes, and he wondered briefly if this was A Sign. Veronica was never this emotional, and he wondered if possibly-no. That wouldn't be possible.

"I never said there were no cars." He tried to make his voice as innocent as possible. It didn't seem to be working very well, because in an instant the tears were gone and her eyes were narrow again.

"Down there," She pointed wildly below them, her sudden gyrations frightening the beast below her. "You said that the best way up was by donkey. DONKEY. And now apparently there are little cars that do it? In what universe is an old, smelly DONKEY better than a car? Cars have air conditioning and reclining seats and doors. Cars most definitely have doors. Donkeys! Not so much."

"I believe I said that the best way to take in the sights would be by taking the scenic route aided by the local color. You don't get more colorful-or more local than this." His voice didn't sound as amused as he'd been pitching for, and he bit his lip as concern filtered from his eyes. "Wanna switch?"

"What? Our tickets? Our Honeymoon? YES."

"Donkeys?"

"What? Is my donkey bigger or something? I know you're competitive, but I'm littler than you. You win in the height department."

"Yours looks more comfortable than mine." His eyes widened and his bottom lip sagged in a way he knew was irresistible. It was why she'd married him, after all.

"Right, I see. It's our Honeymoon and instead of being," She paused as she leaned over to him, as unstable in her seat as ever. "Naked and sweaty," She let her lips close over the words and felt a rush of satisfaction as his eyes flashed. "I'm clothed and sweaty. And I have a feeling that for the next three weeks that we're here?" Her voice was low and her eyes hooded as they gazed into his. "You're going to be naked and sweaty alone." Her lips were just inches from his face. Not even inches, actually and if he just leaned up, just a little, he could touch his lips lightly against hers. He chose for the stronger route. "OH MY GOD, LOGAN! What are you DOING?" She screeched as he dragged her from her mount, thumping her on the ride before him and sinking his lips on hers. She couldn't even hear the drivers laugh. "What…" Her breathing was labored when he let go of her, her breath came out in quick, sharp bursts. "What the FUCK was that?" She asked after a moment, her eyes slowly refocusing.

"I hadn't kissed you all day. I missed your taste."

"I-" He leaned forward and look her lips again, simultaneously placing his hands on either side of her as they took the last sharp turn before getting on to the main road. "Right," She murmured against him, and this time couldn't help hearing the words 'young love' thrown around. Her cheeks flamed the color of apples, and she hid head face in his chest so that she wouldn't have to face forward and see.

"We're almost there, Veronica. Try and turn around." His voice was low in her ear, and even though she didn't like his tone, she didn't want to move away from him.

"It's too dark to see anything."

"They have a great candle on the ledge system. It works really well for those non electricity having types."

"I'm comfortable here."

"And to think you said you hated donkeys." She sat up at that, her eyes narrowing even though a smile played across her lips.

"Actually, I didn't. I believe I said I hated you." She murmured in the air before his lips.

"Twice," He responded and kissed her again, with no ulterior motives this time. His lips were cool against hers, his fingers light as they played with the hem of her shirt. His driver's cough broke their embrace. Turning, the man said something she could swear Logan didn't understand, and when he only nodded smiling when they came to a halt, she was surprised.

"I didn't know you spoke Greek."

"I don't."

"So he could have said, I want to rape your wife and pillage your bounty and you just nodded and smiled to it."

"Something like that."

"Great." She muttered, frowning as he slipped off the donkey's back easily, coming around to her side and extending his hand.

"He also said, 'we're here, please give me 50 Euros.'"

"So you do speak Greek. Why would you lie to me, Logan?"

"Did you hear me doing any speaking?" He called back once he'd settled her on the ground and had walked a few feet to where the two men stood, holding the reins of the donkeys. She distinctly thought she heard him say something in very bad accented Greek. She frowned.

"Our drivers say good night, Veronica. And that," He paused for a moment, a light chuckle tipping from his lips. "And that your theatrics were quite amusing. They wanted to know if you were an actress, preparing for the show. One of them swore he'd seen us on his satellite."

"Yeah, probably ducking from the press."

"It's a distinct possibility."

"So did you tell them, I'm the son of a multimillion dollar murder and my wife is the girl from the wrong side of the tracks?"

"No, I said my wife had been in porn and didn't like reliving that part of her past."

"WHAT?"

"Or that, y'know, you were Grace Kelley's great granddaughter and didn't like your identity known to the public."

"I can deal with being royal." She smiled, her first smile of the night, he thought, and he extended his hand as he began to walk."

"Where are you going?" She called, her voice small in the dark.

"To the hotel. You may want to stay out here, but the miges are even more ferocious at night."

"The me yes? What?" He sighed good naturedly, his hand reaching behind him to rub at the back of his neck.

"The flies, Veronica. You thought they were gross on the way up, but they have their own little conferences at night."

"So miges is the word for flies."

"Right."

"And you know this because…?"

"Veronica…"

"Oh, I get it." Her eyes were suddenly angry and for the life of him, he didn't know why. She hadn't even seen the disgustingly romantic rose petal-champagne combo he'd had ordered to their room yet.

"Get what, Veronica?"

"You were here, a really long time ago, right? And you met some girl…and what? You brought me back to impress her? Show her uptight father that you could do better? After all, I am Grace Kelley's great granddaughter after all." She started walking down the hilly path, in the complete opposite direction of the hotel.

"You're not really Grace Kelly's granddaughter."

"Yeah, but you know how Greeks talk."

"I do?"

"Why did you tell them I was Grace freaking Kelley's grand daughter if you didn't have an ulterior motive?"

"Because I didn't want to explain that I was Aaron Echolls' son." His voice sounded tired, as if, not the length of the day, but she alone had stolen his spirit from him. It wasn't a fun feeling. "Yes, that Aaron Echolls." He continued on a sigh, his eyes hooded and dark. "Yes, I'm the son of the beloved movie star who didn't kill that underage American slut. Yes, I disagree with his acquittal. No, actually, I'm not sorry he's dead, and has been for 10 years. In fact, I think there should be a parade." He grinned sardonically, shrugging his shoulders slightly in the light wind. "Frankly, my dear, I don't know that much Greek."

"But you do know some."

"Yes."

"And there's no girl."

"There's no girl, Veronica. I-" He stopped, a sense of a realization he hadn't thought possible dawning over him. He couldn't help it, he laughed.

"What?"

"I forgot all the others when…I forgot all the others when I met you." Her eyes were wide; this is uncharted territory for them, even though Lilly had been gone for over a decade.

"Oh." She responded, unexpected tears shining on her cheeks. He brushed them away with the pad of his thumb, extending his other hand out to her again.

"Are you ready to go?" She nodded, clutching his hand, tight.

And when they rounded the curving staircase, she gasped. A glittering blue pool sat in the center of the champagne tiled patio, white metal lawn chairs spread haphazardly around it. Her eyes widened as she turned and saw little white stone houses twinkling back at her. There were a few poolside, and as they walked further in, she noticed the gorgeous stenciled seascape on the ground.

"This is…" Her voice trailed off and she couldn't stop looking around, her eyes dancing with delight. "This is possibly the most beautiful place I've ever seen."

"God, Ronnie, had I known you were so easy, I would have taken you to the Camelot for our Honeymoon."

"Very funny."

"I think so. Although I'm not too sure how my ass looks in armor. We should totally check it out." Veronica couldn't help but laughing. She laughed so hard that she forgot where they were, she laughed so hard that it didn't matter, and then she realized that as long as she was with him, it really didn't matter.

"I love you," She blurted, her eyes wide as she glanced over to him. He shrugged his shoulders, his smile clearly evident, even in the night.

"I know."