So that whole biweekly thing didn't work out. But hey, at least now I'm overcoming some writer's block. Enjoy this little chapter!

Oh, also: OMG OVER 700 REVIEWS. YOU GUYS. OMG.

Also also: I missed the fic's three-year birthday. This thing is olddd. :P

Also also also: CHAPTER FIFTYYYYY

CHAPTER STATS

Word Count (excluding A/N): 1229

Date Updated: 3-5-13

Current Review Count: 704

The remainder of Chelsea's stay at Vaughn's apartment was surprisingly smooth—except for the problem of sleeping arrangements.

The subject didn't even seem important until it was well past ten o'clock and Chelsea was fading fast. Vaughn had all of one futon when it came to sleeping utensils, and he usually used it as a bed himself. Naturally, Chelsea put up a fight when he offered it to her, saying she didn't want to impose. And, of course, he argued back that she was in no shape to be sleeping on the floor.

Lucky for him, she was almost too tired to keep her eyes open, so the solution was to simply wait a few minutes before she was out like a light—on the futon.

He sat in his recliner, the darkness of his apartment not nearly as overbearing as it usually was. The room felt so much less empty and removed, and it was all because of the addition of one petite girl. He could hear her deep, rhythmic breathing mixed with the faint sounds of the busy city below.

He'd never really realized it, but her presence alone had a measurable effect on him. Here she was, entirely unconscious and in the lowest spirits he'd ever known her to be in, and she still made the apartment that much more alive.

He leaned back, the weight of the day finally getting to him. The initial fluttering in his chest at her proximity was calming and he relaxed into the chair. The only other time he and Chelsea had been in a situation like this was during that snowstorm a season earlier. That was before he'd realized his feelings for her and he was beginning to trust her, back when he was just confused and still pretty angry with the world. But here, now, with her just near him, knowing how he felt about her, it was different.

For the first time in a long while, he felt truly at peace.

Ooo

The morning came faster than Vaughn would have liked. He woke up before the sun, as usual. Chelsea was still curled up on the futon, her face calm and content—except for the multicolored bruise painting her cheek. He grimaced. He should have prevented that…

"Mhhmm," Chelsea hummed, her body stretching out.

Vaughn quickly averted his gaze from her face and continued brewing a pot of coffee.

Ooo

Chelsea's eyes fluttered open, and she instinctively shot up, unaware of her surroundings. Her eyes were still foggy from sleep and she could barely make out a tall figure in the darkness, moving across the room.

The pain in her cheek coupled with the confusion at her whereabouts gripped her with terror—her throat made a quiet, strangled, scared sound against her will. The figure froze and turned towards her. She felt her heart stop. It was that man—the man from the alley—she was sure of it. What had happened? Why couldn't she remember?

The figure was getting closer and closer and she didn't know what to do, so she took as deep a breath as her constricted lungs would allow and screamed.

"Shhhhh!" The man shushed loudly, "Goddess, Chelsea!"

Chelsea froze again—she knew that deep drawl...

"Vaughn?"

The light from a lamp suddenly filled the room and Chelsea found herself staring into the startled, tired eyes of her favorite cowboy.

"What's the matter with you?" He asked, but he sounded more concerned than hostile.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what—I—I thought you were that man—"

Vaughn's face wavered. He hadn't thought that she would be traumatized by the alley incident—but, now that he thought about it, he really should have expected it. She was strong, but she was still a normal girl.

Her eyes looked up at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, Vaughn."

"Don't be," he said, looking away. His heart hurt for her.

Where was this sympathy yesterday? He really could have used it instead of the irrational nerves and anger he'd been feeling. If he'd been this calm then, he probably wouldn't have needed Riley to intercede for him.

He glanced back at her warily. Her small smile made him feel warm all over.

Ooo

"Chelsea!"

Chelsea smiled apologetically at the teary-eyed blonde as she burst through the door to Vaughn's apartment, crushing her in a massive hug.

"Hey, Julia."

"I was so worried, Chels!" Julia said, pulling away momentarily. Her eyes widened suddenly, her gaze dropping to Chelsea's cheek. "What happened to you?"

"It's nothing," Chelsea shrugged, urgently glancing over to Vaughn for help.

"The boat's gonna leave soon," Vaughn mumbled, unsure what she wanted him to say.

Julia turned back to face him, crossing the room. She spoke in a hushed voice as Chelsea went to get her rucksack. "How did she end up here, Vaughn?"

Vaughn thought about lying to her, but something in Julia's worried gaze made him realize that she was Chelsea's friend, too. Everything Vaughn had felt when he heard Chelsea had left, she had felt, too. But it wasn't his information to share.

"She'll tell ya," Vaughn sighed. "Just give her time."

Julia eyed him strangely for a moment before smirking. "You're acting strangely civil."

"Would y'prefer that I snap at you?" Vaughn scowled.

She let out a laugh. "There's the Vaughn I know."

"Alright, Julia," Chelsea said, joining the others in the kitchenette. "I'm ready to go."

"I told Mama we'd meet her at the docks," Julia said with a nod. "We shouldn't keep her waiting long."

The door to the apartment opened then, surprising everyone. Riley stumbled inside, out of breath. He saw the three of them and relaxed.

"Good, I didn't miss you," he panted. "Chels, get over here."

Chelsea and Vaughn exchanged a glance before she crossed the room to Riley. The lanky man gave her a sly little smile and pulled her into a tight hug, surprising her.

"He'd kill me if he knew I told you this," Riley muttered urgently into her ear, "but he likes you, Chelsea. He really, really likes you, and don't ever think otherwise."

He pulled away then, giving her a brilliant smile and walking over to the others—paying special attention to Julia, it seemed—leaving the farmer by herself, stunned.

Her heart skipped and she never really realized just how much she wanted to hear those words.

Ooo

The four of them made it to the docks with just a few minutes before the boat was scheduled to embark. Julia and Riley had been engrossed in flirtatious conversation the entire time, and Vaughn and Chelsea had walked behind them in a comfortable silence.

Mirabelle waved at them from the deck of the boat and the four of them stopped at the gate. Julia got out the tickets and Riley pulled her in for a hug. Chelsea watched as she pulled away, clearly in a giddy daze, and headed to the gate.

Chelsea turned to Vaughn, smiling up at him. "Thanks again, Vaughn."

"Anytime," he said, tipping his hat to her.

"See you Wednesday?" She asked brightly.

He nodded, not bothering to try to conceal his small smile at her enthusiasm.

She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his torso. He stiffened only for a moment before she felt his warm arms return the embrace.

Chelsea smiled. Riley was right.

A little filler-y, and very short, but I wanted fluff and this is what I got. Mushy Vaughn. LOL. I can work with that. Thanks for reviewing! Love you all. Here's to another update soon.