Leopold walked Sarah out to the deck, savoring every moment he got to spend with her on his arm. He guided her through the crowd, earning jealous, disbelieving looks from nearly every man younger than him, and a few older. Ladies eyed Sarah closely; some appeared taken aback by her beauty, while others were quick to sniff and turn their heads, muttering crude insults under their breaths. Her stride remained confident, her smile serene as she ignored them all. She leaned a little closer to Leopold; they glanced at one another every now and then, each look longer than the last. For a moment, he imagined he'd spotted Javier and Arthur, and changed his direction for another, less crowded section of the deck. He would have been proud to show off the charming, enigmatic Sarah Huang, if he wasn't aware of the heckling he'd be in for. His stomach dropped, however, when he heard an unmistakable voice call out to him.

"Mister Strauss!" Leopold stopped cold. Sarah looked up at him, her expression crossed between confusion, and amusement. "Mister Strauss, why, I thought you'd jumped overboard and swam to shore!" Josiah laughed, crossing the deck from the railing, and giving him a good-natured pat on the back. His laughter abruptly cut short as he noticed Sarah hanging off the Austrian's arm. "I see I'm sorely mistaken – you've made a friend!" He took Sarah's hand gingerly, bowing gracefully as he brought it to his lips. "Josiah Trelawny. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss…?"

"Sarah Huang," she giggled, placing her hand back on Leopold's arm. "The pleasure is mine. Leopold, is this your friend that will be competing tonight?"

"No, that would be Arthur," he mumbled, casting glances over his shoulders, hoping not to see Arthur or Javier approaching. He breathed a small sigh of relief when no one else was coming towards them. "Have you uncovered anything, Josiah?"

"Nothing just yet, my good man. But, all in due Time! Now…" The Englishman leaned forward, a coy smile touching his lips. He lowered his voice so that no one else could hear. "I'll leave you two alone – I know the look of a man who wants his space." Pulling back, he straightened himself out, adjusted his cravat, and tipped his hat. "I bid you adieu! Try not to have too much fun!"

"Oh, I'm sure we will," Sarah remarked, earning a startled look from Leopold as Josiah walked away. His face flushed, and she laughed, reaching up to pat his cheek. "I tease, dear."

"Don't tease me too much," he chuckled, walking her up to the railing. "I might think you're being serious."

"And what if I am?" She leaned against the rail, back to the water, staring up at him in anticipation, her smile daring him to challenge her.

"Then I suppose we'll have to find out what that entails." He settled on the railing by her side, their arms brushing together. "But, I must confess, I'm just happy to be spending Time with you. I never imagined this is how my day would go."

"I'm happy to be here with you, too." She rested her head on his shoulder, slipping her hand into his, lacing their fingers. His heart leapt, and he couldn't stop himself from grinning like a buffoon. He all but ignored the heat, swampy air, and shrilling insects. Instead, he welcomed the intense sunlight, enjoying the warmth, and the way it gave Sarah's skin a soft glow. She peered up at him, scooting even closer. "Won't you tell me more about yourself?"

"What would you like to know?"

"Anything you're willing to share."

"For you, that would take more Time than we have."

"Then, choose a direction, and run with it."

"Okay…" He pursed his lips and exhaled; the first thing that ran through his Mind was of the dance they'd shared, and the music that was played. Before he knew it, they'd launched into a discussion about their favorite composers. Sarah favored Bach and Vivaldi, and he, Beethoven and Mozart. Despite their differing tastes, they had no trouble agreeing that all four composers were worthy of being deified. Leopold had to admit that he was biased about his favorites, due to having grown up where the legends had died. Sarah also adored the music of Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina; she had a weakness for harmonies, and the way a choir could light up a cathedral. Leopold understood the sentiment, and agreed with her, having frequented Mass as a boy only to hear the church choirs grace the halls with their Angelic voices. When asked, he told her that he'd never dreamed of joining one – he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, let alone coordinate with so many other vocalists. That got a laugh out of her. He wondered if she sang, and she did, but she wasn't about to do it at random in public.

"That'll draw more attention than I'm prepared for!" She laughed, shaking her head. "Maybe someday, I'll sing for you."

"Do you think we'll see each other again?" Until then, he'd never even considered it. He knew her plans, and she knew he was an outlaw, but every part of him desired her presence in his life. He wouldn't ask her to go with him and join Dutch's gang, and he also wouldn't suggest leaving with her – there was too much that could happen to both of them in such scenarios.

"I do, Leopold." This took him by surprise; he watched her with raised eyebrows, eagerly waiting for her to elaborate. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "I don't think we'll be apart for very long."

"But, what of your plans to head West?" He shifted uncomfortably, debating whether or not to divulge the gang's current predicaments. "I've been heading further and further East over the last few months."

"Oh, I'm still going West," she nodded, then locked eyes with him. "But I'm always going to be a Wanderer. I'll make my way in every direction, eventually. The only difference this time, is that I'll hopefully have a home to return to."

"I hope you do, too." He unconsciously pulled her closer to him, and she nestled up further against him. He bit back a dreamy sigh as their hips and legs pressed together, his heart skipping a beat. "Tell me, Liebling, it can't just be about that hidden tribe you want to help – why do you wish to settle in the desert?"

"Have you ever seen a desert sunset?" She beamed at him, her eyes turning sort of misty. "Or breathed in the clean, dry air? Have you ever felt hot rock and sand between your fingers, and under your feet?" She waited, and chuckled when he didn't answer. Words refused to escape him as he observed her; he could vaguely imagine what she was attempting to portray, but he was far more interested in her adoration for a world he'd not yet known. "Have you ever watched a beautiful cactus flower blossom under a full moon, and a sky so dense with stars, you'd swear you were swimming in Eternity?"

"No, I can't say that I have." He grinned, then, a twinge of heat touching his cheeks. "But you make it sound like Heaven."

"To me, it is." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and his heart followed.

"With you, anywhere would be." He blurted it out faster than he could think it through, and his breath hitched in his throat. The urge to run and hide nearly overpowered him, but he remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the fear that he'd just blown his only chance.

"Oh, you're sweet, Leopold," Sarah giggled and sighed, catching him off guard. Although hesitant, he met her eyes, and couldn't help but give her a timid smile. The burning desire to kiss her returned full force, yet still he held back, content to wait and see what may happen. "So, tell me more about your travels."

Without thinking about it, he chose to tell her of the voyage from Europe to New York. Beginning in Vienna, he and his uncle took a boat down the Danube, until it ended in Germany, then joined a caravan of traders and travelers to West France. The road was long and hard, and the weather bounced mercilessly back and forth between warm, temperate, unbearably hot, and severe thunderstorms. Many of the travelers, also on their way to claim their fortunes in the Brave New World, had not the constitution to endure the rough conditions along the road. Leopold himself had been lucky to have survived. He'd fallen ill about halfway through the French countryside, running a fever so high, a few onlookers prematurely mourned his passing. His uncle had never lost Faith, however he, too, could not hide his concern completely.

He described crossing the Atlantic to the best of his ability, leaving in every detail, so long as he could remember it. Involuntarily, he gripped her hand tight when beginning to tell of the "thing in the water." The memory of those entrancing blue marks, and that wide, toothy grin haunted him yet again as he recalled the sighting. He shivered, shaking his head violently in a vain attempt to push the image from his mind. Sarah pulled him closer, rubbing small, gentle circles between his shoulder blades, coaxing him to breathe steady. When he looked at her again, he swore he caught a hint of sadness in her eyes, but it vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, sighing softly. "I've never told anyone about that before. You probably think I'm crazy."

"Not at all," she assured him, still rubbing his back. "I've had strange encounters, too."

"What frightened me the most, was that it smiled at me. On one hand, I'd never before, or since, seen such a magnificent creature. On the other hand, to this day, I've never been so terrified in all my life." He glanced at Sarah out of the corner of his eye; her cheeks had reddened slightly, and she gave him a tiny smile.

"So…besides the creature, what was your voyage like?"

"Long and arduous. We were told it would only take up to a month to cross the ocean, but it ended up taking two. Extreme changes in the weather knocked us off-course twice. Rationing food became almost impossible – for as diligent as we were about it, by the middle of the second month, at least half of the surviving passengers went to bed hungry each night. Disease sprung up among a few families, and they had to be quarantined. Only a small handful survived. Every day, for the last two weeks, we had at least one burial at sea. When my uncle and I reached New York, out of seventy-five passengers, only thirty-six remained."

"My God, Leopold…!" Sarah gripped his upper arm, getting him to look her in the eyes. That sadness had crept back in, and all he wanted was to drive it away in whatever ways he could. He turned to face her, watching the tears form in the corners of her eyes, and placed his hands on her shoulders. She stiffened slightly, and he wondered briefly if he should take a step back, but she made no suggestion that his approach was unwelcome. Instead, she surprised him by moving a little bit closer.

"Don't look so sad, Liebling, please." Leopold offered her a relaxed smile, hoping to reassure her that all was well. "It was long ago, and I made it."

"Leopold," she sniffed, visibly fighting back tears. "Just about all you've told me today, about your life, has been full of so much suffering and sorrow. How am I not to feel pained for you?"

"You don't need to…" His voice trailed off as he watched the first tear fall. Her emerald eyes blazed, fierce and defiant, against his insistence.

"But I do!" She tilted her head back, meeting his gaze fully, and closed more of the distance between them. Another tear fell, and Leopold's heart squeezed itself painfully in response. "No, I don't need to…but that doesn't stop me from experiencing it, anyway."

"But, why?" His hands left her shoulders, instead cupping her cheeks.

"I just do, Leopold." She closed her eyes and sighed, silent tears streaming down over his fingers, and under his palms. His heart screamed at him to do something, anything, just to vanquish her sadness. He contemplated asking her for another dance, but something told him it wouldn't be enough this time. Again, he fought the temptation to kiss her full on the lips; he glanced ever so briefly at them, noting how they were pursed, and just barely parted, as though inviting him to try. His breathing turned shallow as he looked again, and felt himself leaning forward. He stopped himself, though, as an unwelcome thought crept into his Mind.

What if she finds out about all the dead debtors from over the years? She's such an Angel, there's no way she'd ever want to speak to me again. And if she asks…I couldn't lie to her. He stood bolt upright, staring down at Sarah's tearstained, yet serene face. His heart sank as the words replayed in his head; he wiped her tears with his thumbs, nearly on the verge of shedding his own. It only happened rarely, but whenever his conscience decided to rear its head over his line of work, it made him feel acutely ashamed. This time, however, hurt far worse than any previous lapses in his constitution. He contemplated making something up, in order to excuse himself, but he stood there silently, still brushing Sarah's cheeks, hoping to find some peace of his own in her tranquil state.

"Forgive me, Leopold," she sighed, placing her hands over his, effectively breaking the melancholic spell that threatened to overtake him. He came fully back to the present moment, emerging from his Mind like a diver in desperate need of air. Emerald eyes, fringed with wet lashes, fluttered open and met his once more. "I never meant to upset you."

"You haven't." Letting his hands drop from her face, he wrapped his fingers around hers and gave a gentle squeeze. "It hasn't all been hardship and strife, you know. Meeting Dutch was one of the best things that's ever happened to me. Hosea and Arthur, too." He gave her a broad grin, and she perked up a little. "Over the years, they've given me much to be thankful for. The gang is my family," he paused for a moment to chuckle. A grin began to tug at the corner of Sarah's lips. "My big, crazy family! I may not be strong, or good with a gun like some of them, but anything I can give, well…they give me all the reasons I need to get up every morning."

"You must really Love them." Finally, that radiant smile returned to her face! Her eyes lit up, and he breathed an internal sigh of relief.

"I do." He nodded. "I'm not the best at expressing it, I just hope they know it."

"I'm sure they do, honey." She turned her head, looking out over the water. Taking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes, then exhaled slowly. "And they Love you, too," she muttered softly. He almost asked how she could know that, but she turned back to him with a flirty little smirk that sent a hard shiver down his spine, and a quick jolt through his heart. "So, Leopold…how would you like to play another game?"

"M-more blackjack?" He stiffened, eagerly anticipating her next words. Part of him hoped it would be blackjack – their near-match in skill and luck kept the game interesting. However, a far more adventurous part of him wondered what else she could possibly have in mind.

"No, not blackjack," she giggled, leaning a little closer. Once more, her perfume overtook his senses. He unconsciously shuffled forward, the edge of his coat brushing against her breasts. They locked eyes for a moment; a hard shiver rocketed down his spine. He shifted on his heels, glancing over his shoulder, momentarily self-conscious of potential nosy onlookers. Upon being convinced there were none, he looked to Sarah again. She tilted her head slightly to the side, and that devilish smirk turned into a playful grin. "Hide and seek."

"Hmm…who will hide?" He returned her smile, anticipating her response.

"You choose." Of course – he'd almost expected that.

"Oh, but that would depend on the stakes." He decided to push his luck a bit; brushing his fingers against her waist, he waited to see how she would react to his touch. Her eyes flickered down to his hand, then back up to meet his. She merely smiled, and gave him a tiny nod. His heart leapt as he caressed her, pulling her a little closer, keeping his eyes trained on hers. "What are we playing for, Liebling?"

"The last chance to decide the course of the evening." She leaned flush up against him, holding onto his shoulders, and standing on her toes to place her lips to his ear. He shuddered, sliding his hand down to her hip. Her voice dropped, turning smoky and seductive, giving him chills. "And the winner can choose anything." Her perfume was becoming intoxicating; he placed both hands on her hips, holding her against him. She hummed softly, her breath gently teasing his ear.

"Anything at all?" His breathing became shallow and staggered, his heart thudding wildly as he began to imagine making Love to her. He gulped as his slacks started to tighten, and hoped she wouldn't feel anything out of the ordinary. It was then that he realized how easily he could have taken her somewhere quiet and been alone with her. She would have done as he asked, since he'd won their game of blackjack. However, he decided that he would only want to if she actually wanted to as well.

"Yes, dear. Anything." She sighed softly as she pushed her hips into his, paused, and then gave a low chuckle. "So…who's hiding?"

"Why not you?" They turned their heads to meet each other's eyes once more. This was the closest their lips had been all day, and he nearly threw caution to the wind to kiss her. His mind raced alongside his heart; he fought with his desire, finding it harder each passing moment.

"Very well." She pulled away abruptly, leaving him reaching out, grasping at the empty air where she'd stood. In an instant, the spell had been broken – the suave, sultry voice and expression left her completely, and was replaced by a bright smile. "Give me ten minutes to hide. You'll have one hour to find me. If you run out of Time, or if you give up, just go to the bar. I'll meet you there." With that, she spun on her heel and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him dumbfounded, and a little frustrated. Still, he grinned, eagerly awaiting the outcome of this game, whatever it may be.