Disclaimer: Totally not mine. Wished it was tho... sigh... GAbby rocks!

A/N: Anything in italics represents thought. Also, the time format goes as Days:Hours:Minutes. (Note the story's title, lol!) This is sort of an 'addition' to my previous story "The Coffin..." So if you haven't read that, it's not a big deal, b/c I'm sure you'll still be able to follow. (Hopefully!) ;-)

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Chapter 3

He sat there, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them... watching as the sun bled into the ocean. The sky was various shades of indigo and purples, mixed in with some grey, and streaks of pink and gold. The deeper, darker colours made him smile and think of Abby. He was sure she would appreciate how they smoothed out the horizon and crept along, like dark arms wrapping around you. He heaved a deep sigh.

9:14:25...

A slight breeze blew up... for half a second, he swore he could smell the unique blend of flowers and gunpowder that was Abby's signature home-made perfume. But then the breeze drifted away, and the scent was carried off with it. He shook his head. He was losing it... now even the wind was going to make him think of her!

9:14:32...

He sighed again. He didn't know why he was staying. There wasn't anything for him here. He needed to be there... where she was. He couldn't help it. He was a greedy man. He wouldn't expect her to be his, but he would damn well remain her friend, and in her life, and she would never be rid of him that way. He needed to go home. He could work on his boat, while she sat there in the basement with him, telling him all about her latest date, and asking his opinion on whether she should wear the red or the black dog collar and... He sighed once more. Yea, he was definitely lovesick over her... but he didn't care. Just as long as she was near, he'd be happy. He had no other choice.

9:14:48...

He could hear music far off... he recognized the song... some band from Toronto that was supposed to be Industrial music, but he thought it sounded awfully pop-like. He remembered fondly how Abbs had shivered and vehemently denied any such thing, and then lectured/introduced him to the joy of... damn... what was their name again? He knew the song... or at least, if his hearing wasn't going, he did.

The tragic comedy divine,

Paints the way to peace of mind.

Leaving shallow lovers far behind.

Past uncertainties combine.

Bringing tears to sleepless eyes.

Memory runs the course of time.

Blood runs cold beyond the violet prison, for violent visions.

And so the broken record plays, as you throw us away.

We're never enough,

We're drowning in clichés.

So desperate to love,

We're twisting every word they say.

So we sleep through the days.

Within the heat of passions war,

Lust is spilled upon the floor.

Staining red the wasted metaphor.

The selfish need for something more,

Claws in vain at closing doors.

Scarring faces once adored.

Tracing circles in the violet prison, for violent visions.

And so the broken record plays, as you throw us away.

We're never enough,

We're drowning in clichés.

So desperate to love,

We're twisting every word they say.

So we sleep through the days.

He smiled. The Birthday Massacre! How could he forget a name like that? The song made him think of Abbs. He looked around, to see where it was coming from. He saw the London girl and her boyfriend… they were having a picnic down the beach… he was chasing her around, and she was laughing, head thrown back, enjoying herself. Damn. She looked so much like Abbs.

9:15:00… give it up, old man. Let go.

He looked away, a slight lump in his throat. Friend. He was her friend. And he would go home, and be her friend, and... Damnit. He wanted to hit something... he wanted to go to her and make her understand that she belonged with him. He would do anything for her... he would cherish her always... he... wasn't worthy of a beautiful woman like his Abbs.

"They say everyone has a twin... most people though, never meet theirs. How cool is it that mine is just down this beach? Think I should go over there and say hello? And check the tunes, Gibbs. She's got TASTE. So... um... miss me?"