Montserrat is as gorgeous as every other Caribbean island Beth and Shane have visited, but none of the others will ever come close to the joyous beauty of also having other people around them. She expected to be wary and introverted with so many strangers, but it's hard when everyone she meets is so genuinely happy to see two more survivors come into the safe haven. It makes her wonder if this is how the prison felt for folks like Bob or Michonne, who had been in the wilderness far too long.

Beth knows well before the two weeks up that Shane wants to stay. The undercurrent of tense watchfulness that he's borne since he found her in that veterinary clinic in Atlanta eases away with each day that he explores and gets to know their new community. He settles in easily, sticking to island duties while they're officially deciding, although she's not surprised to overhear he's being recruited for the scavenging crews.

The St. Maartener giving today's recruiting speech flashes Beth an apologetic grin when she takes the seat at the outdoor patio table where Shane is already done with his meal. "I am not trying to steal your man away from you," Theo immediately soothes. "To be honest, my crew would be happy to have you both."

Theo is young enough he at least doesn't make the assumption Beth and Shane are married, like many older folks on the island do. Neither of them makes a correction when that happens. She can't speak for Shane's motivation, but she figures a ring and a ceremony are pretty much just window dressing at this point, considering how she feels about him. Instead, Shane turns her way. "Everything good at the hospital?"

Nodding, Beth smiles brightly. "I'll be going back after supper. Gillain hasn't had her baby yet, but Dr. Rolle thinks it'll be by nightfall."

Being offered an apprenticeship of sorts at the hospital is one of the things that has Beth inspired to stay for certain. She has a scattering of knowledge from helping her father at the prison, but it's not enough. While he had a lifetime of veterinary skills to transfer into human patients, she needs more details. Becoming a doctor probably isn't her endgame, but qualifying as a nurse seems eminently possible.

There's a flicker of concern in Shane's expression before he turns back to Theo. "We'll talk it over, but I think Beth's pretty set on her medical training."

Theo shrugs and gathers his empty plate as he stands. "You know where to find me if you decide working off-island is good for either or both of you."

Once the man wanders off to flirt with the lady working dish duty at the restaurant turned community cafe, Shane turns to her. "I'm not sure I feel comfortable being away for possibly days at a time yet. It's not that I don't think it's safe, or you can't kick ass perfectly well by yourself…" He trails off, sighing.

"Do you know how weird it is to be half an island away from you?" She thinks of how at the clinic today she kept wanting to turn and say something to him, only to remember he's on a crew helping prepare fields for planting. "I think it'll be a while before we're ready for putting spans of water between us, too."

He looks so boyish in his relief that she isn't taking offense that she leans in and kisses him, hands cupped against his face. This late in the day, she can feel the texture of his stubble along her palms as she caresses his face. Her food's getting cold, though, so she reluctantly ends the kiss with a playful press of her lips to the bridge of his nose.

"I'm thinking maybe we should move off the Iris," Shane suggests once she's had time to eat a few bites. "Not far, just Davy Hill, maybe, or Brades. It'd be closer to the hospital for you and give the dogs a yard that's officially theirs."

Considering she's been thinking about permanency here herself, it isn't surprising that Shane's on the same page. Being too far from the Iris is almost as anxiety-inspiring as being away from Shane. She suspects one or the other of them will be going down to check on their little home daily. The harbor is nice, but it's still not as protected from waves as some of the other places they've been. The dogs are allowed free run of the island, but neither of them really like the pups ranging like that.

"I can check in with the council office and see what's available," she offers. With the bicycle she already uses, there's nowhere on the inhabited part of the island she can't reach within an hour or so. Learning to ride the mountain bike has been entertaining, and pedaling the hills is still stunning at times, but she's in good shape and will only get better in time.

Shane agrees, relaxing beside her in a drowsy sort of quiet as Beth eats. The dogs find them as she's finishing, with Muffin and the puppies following Shane back toward the Iris. Biscuit lingers, tail wagging happily when she tells him to follow her. She thinks he misses being around her all day since some of her practice riding hasn't been compatible with even a dog of his size and athleticism keeping up.

The baby doesn't arrive by nightfall as predicted, but the healthy baby girl does make her appearance by nine. Dr. Rolle allows Beth to catch the newborn, and it's both the most wonderful experience she's ever had and the absolute worst. The physician gives her a ride back to the marina afterward, once the young mother is tucked up with a nurse to oversee any problems.

"You're awfully quiet tonight," Rolle comments, glancing over to Beth in the dark as he puts the dusty mid-nineties model Suzuki Samurai into gear. Few people on the island are authorized to use the limited number of diesel engine all-wheel-drive vehicles, but all three physicians are among them.

"I miss my baby," Beth confesses, surprising herself. Although Judith is listed in her official file with the council as her adopted child, her little girl is not someone she's discussed with anyone else on the island. Grief overwhelms the sense of joy about Gillain's new daughter, and Beth can't stop the small sound of distress that escapes her even as she tries not to cry.

Rolle's voice is kind and soothing when he replies. "How long ago did you lose her?"

How long has it been? Sometimes it seems like forever; sometimes it seems like she can still see that psychopathic bastard with Michonne's blade at her father's throat.

"Four months."

The trip isn't long, especially in the SUV, so Dr. Rolle is pulling into a parking spot at the lot up above the marina as Beth replies. She could make her escape with a quick goodnight and go curl up next to Shane's solid warmth and cry to her heart's content. It wouldn't be the first time, nor would it be the last. But instead, she twists her fingers in the hem of her shorts and starts to talk.

"Her mother died when she was born, and somehow, she just ended up mine to care for. We got separated when our community was attacked, and when Shane and I tracked down our people…" Finding worse things in this world than what happened to her father makes Beth's gut churn with remembrance, and she can't get the word cannibal out. "They were all dead."

"I'm sorry. I know it's poor consolation, especially as much as I've said it in the past two years." Rolle sighs, fingers gripped on the steering wheel tight enough for his knuckles to go white, and Beth knows he probably lost someone close as well. Everyone has these days. "How old was she?"

"Seven months old." Never allowed to see her first birthday, which Beth realizes abruptly is less than a month away. It sends a renewed surge of loss through her, along with a different urge. She doesn't voice it to Dr. Rolle, not yet, and reaches out to open the door. "I need a few hours in the morning to find permanent quarters for us."

The doctor accepts the change of subject and nods. "That's fine, and I'm glad to hear you're deciding to stay. We'll have you qualified as a nurse in no time."

Beth thanks him and goes around to lift her bike off the rack on the back of the SUV after letting Biscuit out of the back seat. Waving as he drives off, she eyes her canine companion as they head down toward the docks and the Iris. "I want a baby," she tells the pit bull, who whines softly in response to her mournful tone.

She loves Shane, and there are probably a few chapters in her nursing psychology text that could be written over their relationship and her wish to have a child with the man who was the biological father of her adopted daughter, but she doesn't care. No child could ever replace Judith, but to have another baby to love?

There's nothing she can imagine that would be better than that.

The little wooden cottage that Shane now calls home is bright and cheerful, which he suspects was why it attracted Beth. It also lacks the formal architecture of some of the other places they browsed through from the list she was given, which is what appealed most to Shane. After months in small living spaces like the boathouse near Atlanta, the skoolie bus, and then the catamaran, the simple place feels more like home than anything else would.

The kitchenette in the living area works nicely for them when they choose to eat at home instead of the community cafe, and lounging on the veranda among the banana trees with its ocean view allowing them to glimpse the island of Redonda in the distance is an enjoyable way to end their days. It's not the peaceful quiet of the Iris's decks, but it's not the busier hubbub of the apartment buildings elsewhere on the island, either.

"Are they really bringing back guano from Redonda?" Beth asks him as she passes him one of the glasses of chilled limeade she's holding. Rather than sit in the other lounger on the verandah, she takes a seat in front of him after he moves his feet to allow her to settle with her back to his chest.

"We got several loads hauled into the fields today, but they unloaded it all down where they're building up the compost," Shane tells her in amusement when he sees her nose wrinkle. "Thought you were a farm girl. Shouldn't natural fertilizer be something you're comfortable with?"

Beth giggles, turning just enough he can see her profile. "You forget I used to be in charge of the chicken coop back home. Bird shit stinks to high heaven."

"I'm guessing you aren't going to volunteer for garden duty anytime soon then?" he teases. He doesn't mind the heavy physical work he's been doing, and it'll feel even better come harvest time. The climate here is prime for growing things, and there's plenty to glean off other islands from crops gone wild, but food will always be a concern in their world.

"Not likely. Between the hospital and the militia training, I'm gonna be busy forever, it seems like."

That's another advantage of the island. Shane did his best to round out the haphazard survival and weapons training Beth had before he found her in Atlanta, and when she assessed in with the actual military folks who reviewed each person's capability, she passed all the basic qualifications. But the lost battle at the prison still echoes in her memories, so he wasn't surprised one bit when she signed up for further training. In the three weeks since they moved off the Iris and into the cottage, she's alternated days between the hospital and the modified boot camp.

Shane suspects catching Beth off guard will be a hell of an accomplishment for anyone in the future. He doesn't comment on her drive to improve her skills, content that she makes her own decisions in that area. Instead, he just dozes a little after setting his glass on the table next to his lounger, content to have her relaxed against him in the early March evening.

That gets interrupted by a feminine giggle. "You should go to bed."

"Mmm. Probably." That means making her get up and then moving himself, and even though he was up before sunrise, he misses times like this with her. Blinking in the fading sunlight, he laughs softly. "Your birdies are visiting."

Beth freezes, turning her head slowly to watch the hummingbirds that flit among the colorful flowers they have hung along the veranda. A few battle over the feeders Beth has hung out, swooping gracefully through the air as the light catches on their colorful feathers.

"There are so many of them here. I used to watch them back home. Mama kept feeders out in the winter for the ones that wintered in Georgia instead of further south. I wonder if they were confused, once the feeders were gone." Her tone is wistful enough that Shane tightens an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"I'm sure they figured it out. Maybe went a bit further south than usual or something."

It's one of the many mysteries their new world poses, seeing how animals adapt to the lack of man. Walkers still complicate things, especially up on the mainland or larger islands, but down here, where the weather encourages fast growth and the remaining people have removed walkers as predators? He imagines many of the islands around them will reclaim their wild nature quickly.

"Gillain told me today that her people used to say that the spirits of people you love will live on in hummingbirds. Her mother laughed a bit before she told me that they symbolize rebirth and spread new life in the world."

Considering how much time Beth spends with the young woman and her baby, Shane isn't surprised that she's picking up on local cultural tales. "They're certainly vibrant enough for either legend."

Beth's fingers tighten in the fabric of his shirt unexpectedly. "Tomorrow would have been Judith's birthday."

His breath catches at the abrupt admission. It's a date he should have known already, but the part of him that still rages with guilt and grief that he walked away from his daughter has always stopped him. Most days it is just easier to recall that she was born as winter gave way to spring, but Beth doesn't have the luxury of not knowing that specific date.

"Do you want to take the day off together?" he asks, voice husky with a turmoil of conflicting emotions. The selfish part of him knows that hard work in the fields would keep his mind from festering with the knowledge, but he loves her too much to leave her to endure her own renewed loss alone.

"Yeah." It's voiced so quietly that he barely hears her, and the feeling of dampness against his shirt isn't surprising. He pulls her as close as he can in his arms, rocking as she cries as hard as she did that terrible night after Terminus.

The fact that the breeze off the sea dries his own tears is something he just doesn't worry about.

Beth falls asleep in his arms, but it doesn't take much effort to lift her and carry her inside. She's put on muscle that she didn't have before, but sometimes he thinks she's still as light as one of her beloved hummingbirds. Settling her in the bed, he starts to move away when she stirs, reaching up to grip his arm and pull him back.

"I know it won't stop hurting," she whispers. "Judith, everyone, they're never coming back."

Unsure of what response she wants, he nods, kneeling next to the bed so that he's on eye level with her. The bedroom is too dim for him to make out the blue of her eyes, so they're darker as her face twists with some sort of primal emotion.

"I want a baby," she urges, a note of desperation in her voice he's never heard before.

"Beth, I don't know that it's a decision you should be making right now." His voice is too firm in his panic as his mind maliciously reminds him of just why Beth raised Judith and not Lori. He flinches when she frowns.

"I didn't make it right now," Beth tells him softly. "I've been thinking about it for weeks."

Since Gillain had her baby, Shane would just about bet for the timing. He reaches out to brush the loose blonde hair back from Beth's face. "Why didn't you mention it sooner?"

"I didn't think you would agree, even though we have doctors here. It would be safe. As safe as it ever was anyway."

Swallowing hard, he leans in and rests his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. He knows she's right, and normally, he'd argue that they've only moved from friends to lovers for less than three full months. But old-world timing surely can't compare when they spent four months alone with only each other to rely upon. There's a sense of hypocrisy in the back of his mind when he thinks of the world ending and what happened with Lori, but he pushes it away. What he did then has no bearing on his life with Beth.

She lets him think, cupping one gentle hand against the nape of his neck, and that point of contact anchors him long enough to sort his thoughts. Her hand falls away when he raises up to look at her again, but before he answers, he claims a kiss. It's slow and sweet, a physical expression of love neither of them has stated out loud yet.

"Marry me."

Beth's eyes widen at the words that slip out as soon as his lips leave hers. He's so close he can see her pupils dilate, the darkness overtaking the paler iris.

"Do you mean that?"

Although he hadn't planned on those two words being what came out of his mouth, now that he's said them, he knows it means it as intensely as he's ever meant anything in his entire life.

"I do. I love you, Beth. I want everyone to know that." His smile isn't the usual confident one when he tries to reassure her, but she smiles in response, and hers? It's fucking breathtaking, and he doesn't need words or her kiss to know what her answer is.

Shane still isn't sure about the idea of a pregnancy and the risk of losing Beth, or even worse, Beth losing another baby to shred her tender heart further. But tying himself to her as permanently as life allows now? That much he can promise her for now.

A/N: Next chapter will still be on the island, but we'll finally see the a reason to send them north to Virginia.