Disclaimer: I do not own Jane or Kurt or Blindspot. Writing about them is simply the outlet for my obsession.

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, but between my short Rich Dotcom inspired detour last week and the fact that I've been visiting MonkeyPajamas for the past few days, it took me a while to get a chance to finish it. Meanwhile, we did watch 30 episodes of Blindspot straight, which took 23 ½ hours (the 29 episodes that are out as of right now, plus an extra viewing of 109… because there was no WAY we were ending our binge with 206). And yes, we are crazy. Anyway, I hope this chapter was worth the wait. There are a few left, but not many.

When Kurt walked back into the bedroom after brushing his teeth, already wearing his pajamas, Jane was sitting on the bed, also changed for bed. Her legs were crossed in front of her and there was an uneasy look on her face, reminding him of when he'd walked into the room just before they'd gone to bed the night before. This time, however, the stuffed zebra sat in her lap. Her eyes were down, whether focused on the zebra or the bed he couldn't tell. As he closed the door, turning the lock, she looked up slowly. The swirl of emotions that was happening inside her was as plain as day just from the look on her face, and he smiled at her reassuringly.

He walked around to the other side of the bed and pulled the covers back as far as he could while she sat on the other side of them, then simply crawled up onto the bed to sit on her left, slightly behind her. She didn't say a word, didn't turn to look at him, simply continued the slow motion that he now saw her left hand moving in as she stroked the zebra's back. He couldn't help but smile at her, knowing all he needed to know without being told.

Without a word, he put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently, moving inwards until he'd reached her neck and then back out again. She hadn't said anything and still hadn't looked away from wherever she had focused her attention, but the tension he'd felt in her shoulders was slowly draining away. He could tell that once again, she was tired. According to the clock, it was after midnight, which meant that it was Sunday. He was nearly certain that this hadn't escaped her attention, and that on the contrary, it probably had a lot to do with her silence.

Finally feeling her relax slightly as his hands stopped moving but remained on her shoulders, he leaned his face close to hers and spoke quietly near her ear. "That's just not the same with your shirt on, is it?" he asked mischievously, then watched as she turned her head towards him almost immediately. Her face instantly grew pink, and a surprised smile and wide eyes were his reward. He chuckled, glancing down for a second and then back up at her. She was shaking her head at him, almost laughing.

"Taken out of context…" she began, still shaking her head, but decided that the rest of the sentence was unnecessary.

"Hey, it's the truth, isn't it?" he asked innocently.

She made a face, knowing that he had her on a technicality, then looked away from him. Before her mind could go to any of the places that it might have, however, he'd shifted so that he was sitting beside her at a 180 degree angle, and pulled his arms around her tightly, pulling her left shoulder and her head to lean against his chest and then kissed the top of her head. She'd let go of the stuffed zebra and now scooted herself closer to him as he pulled her in the rest of the way, so that in a second she was curled up in his lap. She breathed in and out slowly, her eyes closed, trying to calm her racing heartbeat.

"It's Sunday," she said quietly.

"That doesn't matter," he replied, his voice soft and reassuring. Still, he could feel her reluctance to believe him. It wasn't that she didn't want to believe him, it was more that she couldn't.

He reached forward and pulled back the covers from her side of the bed, then managed to move the two of them off of the part of the blankets that they were sitting on just enough to pull them out from under him. Next, he somehow maneuvered them into the middle of the bed and scooted down slightly so that when he loosened his grip on her, which he did only reluctantly, they were both able to slide their legs easily under the blankets. Before she knew it, her head was on the pillow and she was staring up at him as he lay propped up against his right elbow, only inches separating them.

After several seconds of staring into each other's eyes, so that he was confident that he had her attention, he tried again. "It doesn't matter what day it is," he told her sincerely. "I love you. That's not going to change." The look on her face told him that she couldn't fully believe him, however.

She knew that her face was betraying her, and she hated it, but she couldn't help it. How could a person make that kind of a guarantee? No one knew the future. No one knew what kind of secrets another person held, or when or where they would be exposed. She knew that from painful, first-hand experience. And yes, they'd promised not to have secrets from each other anymore. And yet…

It wasn't that she thought that he was keeping things from her. She believed that those days were over. But… how could he make a guarantee on his feelings? Once upon a time, she would have believed that kind of statement from him without question. But despite the intangible connection they'd had so long ago, still everything had fallen apart – and that was putting it very diplomatically.

"You can't know that," she whispered, looking down at such a sharp angle that her eyes appeared to be closed.

He hated that she couldn't completely believe him, but he knew that hehad done this to himself, with his own actions, and that it was up to him to now reassure her the best he could. Beyond that, all he could do was to try to continue to prove it to her, as many times as it took. He put an index finger under her chin and lifted her face back up to look at him. She didn't fight it.

"Maybe not," he conceded, looking into her eyes, "but I'm as sure of it now as I am that my name is tattooed on your back. That has to count for something, right?" He reached down and found her right hand with his left under the covers, bringing it up to his chest and pressing her palm flat against his heart. The gesture was familiar and comforting, reminding them both of the long ago time when things had been, relatively speaking, simple between them.

She let her hand rest against his chest, feeling his heart beating as her own racing heartbeat gradually slowed, returning to normal. They continued to watch each other carefully for several minutes, until she finally smiled up at him. "I love you," she whispered. He smiled back at her, leaning forward to kiss her, releasing his left hand from on top of hers on his chest, replacing it with his right.

His left hand moved to the back of her neck, his thumb moving slowly against her skin. He remained very conscious of following her lead, and when she leaned back slightly to catch her breath, he did the same, the hand on her neck moving slowly upwards to the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair. She continued to smile at him, and this time she was the one to lean forwards towards him, just the slightest bit more urgently. They didn't break apart again for far longer that time, and when they finally did, her heart was racing again, and she was out of breath. Not that that was difficult, because he seemed to have no problem taking her breath away.

Looking at him intensely, the gears in her mind began turning in earnest. She knew that it was terrible timing, but her thoughts couldn't help but flash back to her mistakes in the past, to Oscar, to her regrets… Not that she thought that she would in a million years regret anything she might do with Kurt, only what she had done to him already… But still, that didn't stop her brain from bombarding her with questions that she couldn't answer, with what ifs that she couldn't refute.

He watched the look on her face go from blissful to, within seconds, that look that she got when her brain was moving too fast and she was sabotaging herself. Her mind was an intensely complicated place, this much he knew, but their connection allowed him to also know that the best way to soothe her was to do exactly what he was doing – looking into her eyes, remaining close but not asking for anything, and maintaining contact with her – her hand was still under his, pressed against his chest. His left hand moved back down, out of her hair and back to her neck, his fingertips moving lightly across her skin and grazing the top of the oil derrick tattoo that stuck out above the neckline of her t-shirt. He couldn't see it from where he was, of course, but could feel the tiniest bit of a difference from the skin around it, where her skin was raised slightly.

Jane bent her head forward, sighing with the effort of her thoughts, and he leaned his forehead towards her until it rested on hers. No words were necessary for this exchange, it was simply understood. He would have done anything for this woman, and yet really, all she required was a little extra compassion and understanding, things that he could easily provide. She asked so little else of him.

"We should get some sleep, I'm going to drag you out of bed early in the morning," he whispered, his forehead still leaned against hers.

"I'd like to see you try," she replied just as quietly, her eyes having already drifted closed.

"Oh, just you wait," he promised. "What was it you said on the beach? That you know my weaknesses? Well I know yours, too." He felt the movement of her forehead against his as she chuckled quietly.

"Well, that sounds interesting," she said, yawning. The movement of her face as she yawned was enough, since they were so close together, to press her nose against his, and he smiled, raising his face enough to be able to kiss her gently, leaning back slowly a minute later.

"Good night, Jane," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, thinking that he could lie there and look at her all night, if only he didn't need to sleep himself. His left arm dropped to drape gently over her waist, his left hand resting on the skin of her lower back in the space where her t-shirt and her pajama pants met.

"Good night," she whispered back, already half asleep.

It felt like only a few seconds later that she felt herself waking up, somehow now in a different position. Now she was facing the opposite direction and Kurt was pressed behind her, his left arm again draped over her waist, this time pulling her close against his chest. She smiled, still half asleep and wondering what had woken her, thinking that whatever it was, this wasn't a bad way to wake up, if waking up was necessary. But what had woken her up?

And then suddenly, she knew, because he was doing it again. She felt him slowly kissing the back of her neck, very gradually moving upwards. "Are you awake yet?" he whispered.

"If I say no, will you keep going?" she asked, partially joking and yet… also partially serious. She felt the rumble in his chest as he chuckled against her, moving around the left side of her neck to kiss the bird tattoo, and then up to her ear, where he whispered, "See? I know your weaknesses."

"I'm not up yet, and I know yours, too," she replied, turning over to face him, bringing her face in line with his so that suddenly she didn't even have to move in order to kiss him, which she did. She could feel him smiling into the kiss, and she had a feeling that she was doing the same. It was more than a few minutes before she could force herself to lean back, looking at him with interest.

"What are you smiling at?" she asked him, knowing that her smile matched his.

"I was right, I know how to wake you up early," he replied triumphantly, suddenly rolling toward the opposite side of the bed and pushing himself up to sit on the edge. She flopped over onto her back, scoffing playfully.

"I was tricked," she murmured, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to laugh. She'd have thought she'd have been grumpy to have been woken up at – she checked the clock – 5:00am, but apparently he'd performed some kind of magic. Before she knew it, he was standing beside the bed looking down at her, still smiling the same goofy smile that she imagined was also on her face.

"Come on," he told her, holding out a hand. She pushed the covers off of her slowly, stretched, and then reached for his hand, still outstretched towards her. He pulled her up, not stepping back, and she suddenly found herself standing very close to him.

"This was a lot easier than I expected," he said, leaning down to kiss her quickly, pulling back up again almost before she realized what was happening. The look on her face then could only be described as a pout, and he laughed.

"Later," he said, winking at her. "Right now, go get ready."

"Do I have time to shower?" she asked. "I feel gross from all the sand yesterday."

"If you hurry," he told her, leaning down for another peck on the lips.

"Well then stop kissing me," she said as he stood up again.

"Excuse me?" he asked, his eyes suddenly wide.

She rolled her eyes at him. "If you want me to get ready quickly, then stop kissing me and let me get ready," she clarified, swatting at him playfully.

"Oh, okay," he said, pretending he had misunderstood her previous request. She shook her head at him, putting her hands on his chest and then pushing him back. She took what was probably the fastest shower she could remember, realizing only after she was clean that her clothes were all still in the bedroom. Only her red bikini was in the bathroom with her, having been rinsed and hung up the night before. Unsure of whether their day would involve the beach or not, she decided to put it on anyway. It couldn't hurt, after all, and that way she was walking back into the bedroom in more than just a towel.

Feeling very self-conscious, she let herself back into the bedroom. She had the towel wrapped around her over her bikini, the red straps visible on her shoulders. It was silly, really, because how many times had he already seen her in that bikini? And besides, she knew that he liked seeing her in it. She gritted her teeth and walked towards her bag to retrieve a set of clean clothes. He looked up at her from where he was laying on the bed and smiled appreciatively.

"Ahhh, one more chance to see the bikini," he said, getting up from the bed and walking towards her. She smiled shyly, then unwrapped the towel from around her, bent her head forward and wrapped it around her wet hair as she stood up, looking back up at him with a grin. He stopped just within reach of her, putting his hands gently on her hips.

Smiling and knowing that she suddenly had the upper hand, she shook her head at him. "Don't you need to go shower or something?"

"I do," he agreed, stepping closer to her, "but you're distracting me again."

"Hey," she said, pretending to be serious. "You got me up this early to go somewhere, I think, so you can't afford to get distracted." He looked at her in mock disappointment, imitating a sad four year old with a protruding pouty lip, hanging his head down to his chest.

"Later, remember?" she whispered, at which he brightened right back up again. "Right now, go shower."

"Yes, right, I'm going," he replied, forcing himself to remove his hands from her hips but still grinning at her. She shook her head, turning toward her bag and leaning down to pick out some clothes, catching the towel that had been wrapped around her head as it fell off with her change of angle, and finally hearing him leave the room.

When he emerged from the bathroom a little while later, she was sitting on the small sofa by the TV, the green bag beside her. "Ready when you are," she told him.

"Good," he replied, "because we need to get going." She stood up and walked towards him as he walked forward, so that they met halfway, then walked to the door together.

"Is there sunblock in that bag, just in case, for later?" he asked.

"Yep," she replied in amusement, as she tended to when sunblock was mentioned. She refused to think about the fact that it was the last day something like that would be necessary.

Kurt stopped and wrote a note for Sarah, leaving it on the kitchen table, lest she wonder where they had gone when they eventually woke up, then they were on their way.

The route they took was familiar – they were heading straight for the beach. Jane wondered what exactly they were doing that required them to be up so early, but was surprised to find that she really wasn't as tired as she'd expected to be. She still felt a sort of glow from their adventures last night – from the whole weekend, really. It was going to be hard to go back to reality again after everything that had happened, even if things worked out between the two of them… She forced the thought from her mind.

"Are you going to tell me what we're doing yet?" she asked him as they walked.

"Soon," he promised, squeezing the hand that had taken up its now familiar spot across her shoulders. She shook her head at him, but just smiled. Whatever it was, she was sure that it would be worth the lack of sleep. If nothing else, she certainly didn't mind the extra time with him.

Jane couldn't help but notice how strange it was to walk the now familiar route and not see any other people. The only other time that had happened had been in the pouring rain. Now, the weather was perfect, but the city was still asleep. They could hear the sounds of the water even before they reached the beach, along with the calls of seagulls in the distance. It was very peaceful.

When Kurt headed straight for the stairs that led down to the beach, Jane's curiosity threatened to get the best of her. Still, she waited. They walked toward the water, stopping mid-way down where the sand was still slightly loose. She hadn't even noticed that he had a towel under his free arm, but he let go of her for a moment and spread it out in front of them, perpendicular to the water, gesturing towards it.

"Have a seat," he told her. She smiled, putting the green bag down in the sand beside the towel, and then sitting down near the front. By now, she had figured out what they were doing. He sat down on the towel behind her and without a word, only a knowing smile, she scooted herself back until her back was against his chest, one of his legs on each side of her. He wrapped his arms around her at her shoulders without hesitation, and she felt the now familiar blissful happiness flood her system once again. There wasn't anything else in the world she needed just then.

"It's a harder to get a good view of the sunset here on the east coast," he told her, speaking near her ear, "but if we can get up early enough, we get the sunrise."

Color was already filling the sky, announcing the sun's impending arrival, though it wasn't yet visible. She just nodded absently, leaning her head against his arm. Her eyes drifted closed, and almost immediately he was in her ear again.

"Hey, you're not sleeping, are you? Because that's not allowed," he admonished her playfully.

"Nope, not sleeping," she replied without opening her eyes. "Just… enjoying the moment."

"Well, make sure you enjoy the moment with your eyes open," he reminded her. "You don't want to miss the sunrise."

"Okay, okay," she replied, forcing her eyes open again, then turning around far enough to look at him. "See? They're open."

"Good," he replied, "Now… look." She turned around to see the sun just beginning to peek above the horizon, a shining sliver of light emerging from the ocean – or so it seemed. There were no clouds in the sky to obscure it, and she realized too late that sunglasses would have been helpful.

"Wow, it's really bright," she said, squinting slightly.

He chuckled at her. "Well, it is the sun," he said. "It's bound to be bright."

"Shut up," she told him fondly, leaning against his arm once more.

After that they sat quietly for what felt like both a long time, and simultaneously not nearly long enough. Both of them were partially lost in their thoughts, neither one wanting to acknowledge that it was now only a matter of mere hours until they would be heading for home.

Finally, Kurt leaned his chin against her shoulder and said, "I know a place we can go for breakfast. Sarah told me everyone recommends it here. It's only a few blocks." Jane just nodded, looking ahead. She felt the beginnings of anxiety in her stomach, and hoped she'd be able to eat. Up until now she'd been able to push thoughts of going home out of her mind, but the closer it got, the more real it was. At this point, there wasn't much more room for denial, no matter how hard she tried. "They open at 7:00," he added.

"What time is it now?" she asked with some effort.

He didn't miss the heavy sigh that accompanied her words. He had his phone in his pocket, and he slowly unwrapped his right arm from around her so that he could take it out to check.

"6:45," he said. "We could walk up there now and they'll be practically ready to open when we get there."

"Okay," she said quietly.

"I think you'll feel better with some coffee in you, at least," he told her, sensing her mood and kissing her cheek before slowly letting his left arm also fall away from her. They both stood up and he shook the sand off of the towel, folding it as Jane opened their bag so that he could put it and his phone inside. He then took the bag from her and put it over his own shoulder, switching from her right to her left and draping his arm across her shoulders for the walk across the beach.

Soon after that, they found themselves at the restaurant, an older looking building with windows all across the front, on 23rd Street between Atlantic and Pacific Avenues. It was called Doc Taylor's, and they arrived with five minutes to spare before the restaurant opened. They were surprised to see many other people were up early with the same idea.

"Popular place," he murmured. Jane just nodded. They stood on the sidewalk near the door, looking around at the other people waiting, Jane's head resting on his shoulder.

She knew that she shouldn't be sad. After all, it wasn't logical to be sad after the weekend she'd had – it had been the best one, by far, in all of her still limited memory. Still, she'd quickly become so addicted to this – what she had right at this moment – Kurt's arm around her, standing so close to her, the feeling of being carefree and, surprisingly enough, the fact that even though she loved her work, she actually did like having a break from chasing down criminals after all…

Never in a million years would she have guessed that she would have any of those things, much less that she would have liked it so much. She'd spent so much time telling herself that she didn't need anything from anyone else – enough time that she'd actually believed it – and this reprogramming of her feelings that Kurt was doing… it was addictive. And of course, it was also scary, despite his reassurances. It might not have been nearly as much fun to have nothing to lose, but it had been safer.

The front door of the restaurant opened and the people on the sidewalk began moving forward in small groups, everyone slowly making their way inside. When Jane and Kurt were seated inside what appeared to be a somewhat older, large beach house that had been converted into a restaurant, the momentary distraction from her thoughts faded and she felt worry begin to eat at her again.

Their waitress quickly supplied coffee and left them to look at the menus. Jane stared absently at hers on the table in front of her, her chin propped up on her left hand, her elbow on the table, as the lack of both sleep and caffeine, which had not yet been absorbed into her system, hit her. The fingers on her right hand drummed unconsciously against the table as she sat, reading through the whole menu and yet having no idea what it had said.

Finally, Kurt reached up and covered her hand with his, stopping the drumming noise of her fingers against the table, squeezing gently. She looked at him in surprise, as if she'd forgotten that he was there. "Do you know what you want?" he asked. When she stared at him blankly for a second, as if completely surprised by the question, he chuckled and added, "to eat."

"Oh," she said, feeling herself blushing and looking down at the menu. "No, um…"

"You've been reading the menu for almost five minutes," he told her patiently. "Or… looking at it, at least…" She knew that she was busted, that there was no point in trying to deny it. He simply knew her far too well.

Taking a drink of her coffee, she finally looked up at him. It was one of the few times that weekend that he had seen sadness in her eyes. "I'm just… not very hungry," she said quietly, looking down into her coffee and then, for something else to focus on if nothing else, taking another drink.

He was still holding her right hand under his against the table, and he picked it up so that he could lace their fingers together, squeezing firmly. "Jane," he said softly, conscious of the fact that despite the fact that it wasn't crowded yet, they were still in a restaurant. He waited until she looked back up at him, and suddenly the words he was going to say, that it was going to be okay, seemed inadequate. The look in her eyes was haunted, and even without understanding exactly… he did. Instead, he just stared into her sad, green eyes, hoping that like so many other times, his would speak for him.

She hated to end the weekend like this, to end it as anything other than happy, because that was how they'd spent it. Suddenly, though, she was so full of so many different emotions, and they jammed up inside her, making her unable to explain what was wrong. Luckily, she got the feeling that as usual, she didn't really need to.

"You need to eat something, okay?" he said quietly, and she nodded. Yes, she would eat a little bit, at least. Taking another sip of her coffee, she forced a small smile onto her face, or what she hoped at least resembled a small smile, looking across the table at Kurt. After all, how could she not smile when she had someone like him looking back at her with such obvious concern? That's what she told herself at least, and she felt a little better.

They didn't say very much as they waited for their food, and when the waitress brought their orders – scrambled eggs and a bagel for Jane and pancakes, bacon and eggs for Kurt – they concentrated on eating and watching each other, as if the other might disappear into thin air if they looked away for too long. The waitress had attentively refilled Jane's coffee every time it was even half empty, and eventually she lost track of how much of it she'd had. She did know, however, that she was feeling better by the time they finished eating. Kurt had insisted on paying, and they walked back out into what was shaping up to be a beautiful, hot day.

Outside, the sun now higher in the sky and the quiet of dawn replaced with the bustle of morning in a beach town, they stood on the sidewalk to discuss their next move.

"So we have," Kurt checked the time on his phone before replacing it in the bag, "about three hours before we need to head back to the house." She nodded, swallowing hard and willing her mind not to run away with her. "Anything you'd like to do?"

Smiling determinedly, she shook her head. "Nothing in particular," she replied. "I feel like we've done it all."

He nodded in agreement. They certainly had done all of the most obvious things, anyway. "It's a beautiful day," he said. "We could just go up and walk along the boardwalk. We may even have time to walk all the way from one end to the other." She looked at him oddly, as if she couldn't figure out whether or not he was joking. "I'm serious," he said, "Basically, at this point we either go somewhere and sit, or we walk around, right? And we're going to be sitting in the car all afternoon, so… we may as well walk."

When he put it like that, it made a lot of sense, actually, and she nodded in agreement. "Okay," she said, "why not?" It didn't really matter what they did, as long as they were together, after all.

"Still," he said, leaning closer to her for no other reason than he wanted to, "whether or not we're on the beach, we should still put on sunblock." She nodded, knowing that his assistance wasn't required this time, since her back was still covered by her shirt. No, the only part of her she could use his held with was on her face – which really wasn't even necessary as much as something they could use as an excuse to make contact with each other.

Doing my own sunblock is… a disappointment… after all the other applications, she thought, frowning at the thought. He winked at her just then, and she blushed slightly, because of course he knew what she was thinking. He always did.

"Let's go up to the boardwalk and find a bench to sit on to take care of that," he suggested.

"Sure," she replied, and without any further communication they simply moved towards each other, Kurt on the right, Jane with the beach bag over her left shoulder, each with one arm wrapped around the other.

The sidewalk wasn't quite crowded, but it definitely wasn't empty, and she took a deep breath, steadying herself. She was already a little emotional today, and she hoped that she wouldn't run into anyone as nasty as that woman on the beach the day before… or if she did, that she would at least handle it better. When it came down to it, all she could do was her best, just like anyone else with any other problem. She pitied anyone who messed with her when Kurt was around, and the thought made her smile. Not that she couldn't take care of herself, because they both knew that she could easily do that. That didn't stop him from being extremely protective, however. For the most part, it was cute.

On the boardwalk, they passed several benches that were occupied before finding an empty one, and sat down quickly. She took out the sunblock and they got to work, exchanging glances that led her to believe that he was thinking the same thing she was – this isn't nearly as much fun as the other times. She finished with the skin not covered by her shorts and t-shirt, then quickly smeared sunblock across her face, leaving more than a few globs of white behind. By accident, of course.

As expected, he finished his own sunblock and turned to face her. Without a word, their routine now established, he leaned forward and brought a hand to her cheek, smoothing his fingers across her skin. Even though it hadn't been long since their last skin to skin contact, she couldn't help but lean into his touch, feeling that it had still been much too long. She only realized that she was grinning at him when she glanced up at him and saw him grinning back at her. Of course, he finished his task much too quickly, even though she could tell that he was trying to take his time.

He lowered his hand reluctantly, and she handed him the sunblock bottle she'd been using so that he could spread it just as halfheartedly on his own face as she had on hers. As she raised her right hand to spread the sunblock on his face, she felt his right hand on top of her left, sitting on her knee. His smile was making her slightly dizzy, and she had to concentrate intensely on what she was doing. He leaned his cheek slightly against her hand, just as she had done against his.

She finished rubbing the sunblock into his face much too quickly, as he had with hers, and drew her hand back from his cheek slowly. With their time ticking down, every second suddenly felt more important than the one before. Despite the fact that she knew that this was silly, because she knew that he wasn't going to disappear into thin air when they got back to New York, the feeling of panic was back in her stomach once again. Taking a deep breath, she looked down at his hand, which was still covering hers, sitting on her knee. Almost as if on cue, he squeezed her hand, his fingertips brushing against her knee below it.

"Come on," he said quietly, "let's walk." She nodded, avoiding his eyes and forcing herself to stand up, hating that that meant relinquishing the contact that they had. She looked down at the ground for only a few seconds before she felt his arm wrap around her shoulders reassuringly, and she felt just a little less panicked. They set off down the boardwalk to the right, where the street numbers went lower, toward the pier and the amusement park. Those first eight blocks were familiar, since they had now walked them several times.

They passed the familiar landmarks and continued, finding the crowds slightly thinner as they got closer to where the boardwalk ended at 1st Street. When they reached the end, there was a rocky overlook, the land broken by a narrow channel of water that went inland a little ways to what looked like a marina, many boats docked there. On the other side of the water, the shoreline continued, just beach without boardwalk, and large beach houses set just far enough back to be safe from a normal high tide, but close enough to the water that the views must be spectacular.

They stood and looked out along where the coastline continued into the distance, then slowly turned around to see the giant, colorful, handicapped accessible playground that had been built at this end of the boardwalk. Though they'd been known to play on playgrounds like kids themselves – at least the one in her neighborhood, anyway – neither of them felt like playing just then. They turned around and started back towards the other end of the boardwalk in silence.

They'd only gone a few blocks when Jane slowed and, without a word, walked to the railing along the right side of the boardwalk and leaned against it heavily, staring out at the water. The view really was beautiful, and for a moment she was lost in it. She couldn't even have said exactly why she had stopped when and where she had… she'd been alone in her head with her thoughts for quite some time now, and her actions weren't necessarily something that she could explain.

Kurt, ever the intuitive one when it came to Jane, simply followed her head, having been tugged along to the side of the boardwalk. He released his arm from her shoulder and instead, stood close behind her, his hands on either sides of hers on the railing.

"Everything okay?" he asked from behind her left shoulder. She nodded unconvincingly, staring at the water, sure that if she looked at him he would see that she was simply saying yes to try to convince herself. His right hand left the railing and he leaned back very slightly, his hand going to the space where the back of her neck met her shoulders, and his thumb stroking back and forth against the top of the oil derrick tattoo sticking up above her t-shirt. She felt herself relax, tension actually seeming to flow out of her through his hand, and for a second, she closed her eyes and just enjoyed the sensation of his hand against her skin.

He didn't say anything, because what was there to say? After all, he'd said everything he could already, trying to make her believe that it would be okay. It wasn't that she didn't believe him, he knew, more that she couldn't, and not for a lack of wanting to.

Moving the neck of her t-shirt down slightly with his thumb, he ran his fingers lower along the oil derrick tattoo, then let his fingertips disappear below the soft cotton of her shirt's neckline, moving slowly an inch or so before coming back up her neck to visible skin. He wasn't sure who liked this more, her or him. Finally, laying his hand flat against the base of her neck, he moved around her on her left side, maneuvering so that he was as close to being in front of her as he could be, leaning in close enough to her face to see the war of emotions that reflected her thoughts.

"Nope," he whispered simply, which made her turn to look at him in confusion. Now his face was in front of hers, and he was at the right angle to lean forward and kiss her – which he did, just slowly enough and yet just intensely enough.

Her mind was suddenly blank, and she couldn't quite remember what had been bothering her, what had been making her thoughts spin out of control… the thought felt like it was there, but just out of reach, and she couldn't say that she was disappointed that she couldn't retrieve it. On the contrary, she thought, good riddance to whatever had been upsetting her. Too soon, though, the kiss was over and he was leaning back, looking at her intently. This time, she looked back at him, feeling overwhelmed by the emotion she saw in his eyes. It said more than any words might have.

After nearly a minute of looking at each other, almost without blinking, her face finally relaxed and she smiled, looking more like herself than she had in several hours. "That was quite a pep talk," she commented quietly.

He raised an eyebrow at her mischievously, glad to see that he seemed to have coaxed her back out of her head, back to where he could reach her. "Let's go back down to the beach," he said. She looked at him in surprise, as if she was trying to figure out what he was thinking.

"Tired of walking?" she asked, though her smile told him she was actually asking something else without doing so in so many words.

A grin spread across his face and he angled his head to the side, making a face and replying "I guess you could say that." She shook her head at him as they headed for the nearest stairs down to the sand. They were still fairly close to the far end of the beach, which was less crowded than the section that they'd been sitting on throughout the rest of the weekend. There were still other people there, but it was noticeably quieter and she felt like there were fewer eyes on her, which she liked.

Partway down to the water, Kurt spread out the towel perpendicular to the shore, as he had that morning, and Jane sat down on the right side, slightly toward the front, stretching her legs out in front of her so that her feet were in the sand. They had one towel between the two of them now, unlike their other days on the beach, but she certainly didn't mind having him closer to her. As she sat there, he leaned back and stretched out along the left side of the towel, his left arm folded behind his head, his feet hanging off the end into the sand. When she saw that that was what he was doing, she scooted back, closer to him, but remained sitting up, looking out at the ocean, leaning forward slightly.

It was a matter of seconds before she felt a gentle tug at the bottom of her t-shirt, and then his fingers on the skin of her lower back, moving in a pattern that she recognized as him tracing the tattoo lines that he must be able to see from the angle that he was sitting and the small amount that he'd moved her shirt. She turned and looked at him over her left shoulder, leaning towards him slightly and smiling in amusement, finding him looking up at her with his little-boy grin, looking extremely proud of himself.

"This is the beach," he said innocently. "You're overdressed."

She twisted the rest of the way around slowly, and when she stopped moving she was laying on her left side, propped up against her left arm, leaning over him with her face close to his. "Is that why you wanted to come down to the beach?" she asked, almost laughing.

He looked back at her, pretending to be surprised at the suggestion. "Oh, I just love the beach," he said innocently. "But, you know, you're just overdressed all of a sudden."

Her eyes narrowed playfully as she leaned closer to him. "Are you telling me for a third time to take my shirt off?" she whispered so that no one else but him would hear her.

Looking straight into her eyes, he replied, "Do you need help? Again?"

She bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. He was much too good at this game they were playing.

"Well," she replied, looking away and pretending to think about it. "I will need sunblock, I suppose, if all that skin is exposed."

"I can certainly help you with that," he replied quickly. "I've been practicing. As a matter of fact, I think I've gotten pretty good."

"Oh, you think so, huh?" she grinned. "Who told you that?"

He looked back at her in feigned surprise for a second, pretending to be hurt, then the mischievous look returned to his face. "Oh, you know…" he said casually. "That hot girl I was telling you about earlier."

"And she said that, did she?" Jane asked, raising her eyebrows skeptically.

"Well, no… but she was thinking it," he replied.

"How do you know?" she asked, slowly leaning back down towards him.

"Well," he began slowly, as if he was considering the question, "I never heard her complain, and she certainly looked happy when I was done…"

Jane couldn't help but smile, unable to keep a straight face any longer. She leaned down farther until her face was only inches above his. "I was," she whispered, holding still where she was, knowing that both of them were just barely suppressing the urge to lean forward for a kiss.

"Then take your shirt off," he whispered, at which point she dissolved into laughter, her head falling against his neck, her left arm just barely stopping her from collapsing completely against his chest… not that that would be a bad thing, she thought…

Finally recovering the power of speech, she sat up part way and looked back down at him once more, shaking her head. "So romantic," she murmured, unable to stop smiling as she peeled off her t-shirt, now very glad that she'd thought to put on her bikini when she'd gotten up so many hours ago.

He winked at her and sat up, reaching for the sunblock. "Lay down," he told her, which she did, not needing any more convincing, and settling on her stomach. She had moved as far to one side as she could, trying to leave him some room. She lay with her head facing him, on her right, but her eyes were closed for the moment. The sound of the sunblock cap was familiar, as was the funny sound the bottle sometimes made when the lotion was squeezed out, especially now that it seemed to be close to empty. She heard him rubbing his hands together, and then they were on her shoulders, moving slowly.

The best thing – or one of the best things – about where she was in that moment was that there was no room for thoughts of anything else. After all, how could there be? The only thing she could think about was him as his hands moved along her skin. Somehow, it was both completely innocent – enough so that it could be done in public, and even arguably something that was necessary – and at the same time extremely intimate. Her eyes remained closed, and she could feel the smile on her face as the sun beat down on her, his hands continuing their work.

When he reached the base of her lower back, where her bikini bottom began – and this time, her shorts, which she hadn't taken off – she felt him shift beside her, and for a few seconds, his hand left her back. She opened her eyes to see where he had gone, only to discover than he was now lying beside her, on his right side, propped up on his right elbow.

At that moment, his hand was on her lower back again, where it had been not a minute before, and resumed its movement. The difference was that now he was no longer rubbing in sunblock, but simply tracing her tattoos – though he was doing so with several fingers together, in what she imagined was supposed to appear to anyone who happened to look that he was rubbing in sunblock… She didn't really care very much how it looked to anyone else at that moment, honestly, because there was no way she was going to stop him.

She didn't even remember feeling sleepy, but all at once she was waking up, still feeling him tracing his fingers across her back. A smile spread across her face almost involuntarily, and she opened her eyes to find him looking at her intently.

"Did you have a nice nap?" he asked.

"Yes, thanks," she replied. "I didn't mean to… Someone just lulled me right to sleep."

He smiled at her, looking back down to where his hand was slowly tracing the lines of ink across her back, then slowly back up at her. "Ready to head back?" he asked reluctantly. He knew what her answer would be.

"No," she said emphatically, closing her eyes again. Maybe if I pretend it doesn't exist, reality will just go away, she thought to herself.

Shaking his head, he looked down at her. So much had changed over the course of the weekend… Looking back now, he couldn't figure out how it had taken him so long to realize how he felt about her. No, not just to realize how he felt about her, but to do something about it. But that didn't matter now, because now that they had taken this step, there was no going back – even though neither of them quite knew what that would mean for them.

"Come on," he said, leaning forward to kiss her, which made her instantly open her eyes in surprise for a second before closing them again. When he pulled back, her eyelids fluttered open slowly once again, and he saw the familiar mix of love and anxiety on her face.

"It's going to be fine," he whispered once again, running a finger along her cheek. "I promise." They looked into each other's eyes for a few long seconds before he added, "After all, we've been through worse."

She had to admit that there was certainly no denying that. No matter what might happen to them, possibly for the rest of their lives, it was likely that they would be able to say they'd been through worse – both of them separately, as well as the two of them together. And so, vowing to herself to remember that, she sat up and reached for her shirt, tugging it back over her head, then standing up slowly and stepping off the towel as he bent to pick it up and shake it out before putting it back in their bag. The fact that Kurt had rubbed sunblock on her so that she could almost immediately put her shirt back on was not lost on her… but nor was it especially important.

As she stood there, looking around at the sand at their feet, something caught her eye. It was a glint of color, something tiny and red. She took a few steps toward it and then bent down, digging her fingers slowly into the sand to retrieve it. Kurt saw her hunched over, looking at something, and wandered over to see what she'd found.

Her face was full of awe when she turned back towards him, her fingers curled around something in her palm that he couldn't see.

"What'd you find?" he asked curiously, stepping towards her.

She looked up at him, her face full of amazement, and then held out her palm, slowly uncurling her fingers. He wouldn't have recognized the small shard of red before that weekend, but after the past few days, he recognized the small fragment in Jane's hand as sea glass. Red sea glass, the only color she hadn't found in the bin at the shop on the pier. One of the ones that was apparently the rarest and most difficult to find, which she'd just found on a beach that supposedly didn't have any sea glass to be found.

"Wow," he said, putting his hands around hers on both sides and moving his thumbs slowly across her skin. "I thought there was no sea glass on this beach."

"Well we're by the ocean, so I guess it's not impossible," she replied, still very much in awe herself. "But the woman in the shop had said that there wasn't any sea glass on this beach… and that it's rare to find red at all… What are the odds?" She was staring at the small piece of glass in her hand reverently, still in disbelief.

"Well," he chuckled, "you'd have to ask Patterson about the odds…"

She elbowed him gently in the side as she closed her hand around the sea glass, shaking her head. "Stop," she chuckled.

"You can add it to your collection," he told her. "And this is one your really did find on the beach." She just nodded, slipping the small piece of glass carefully into the pocket of her shorts, then wrapping her arm around his lower back, leaning against him. The sea glass had only momentarily distracted her from the real issue at hand, the fact that it was nearly time to leave.

"What time is it?" she asked him.

"11:15," he replied. "Time to head back." She just nodded, letting her head fall against his shoulder as he put his arm around her and they started walking back toward the boardwalk.

Their pace back to the beach house was slow but steady, and he couldn't help but notice that she held onto him a little tighter than usual. This didn't surprise him. On the contrary, he felt the same inclination, and found himself holding onto her just a little tighter as well.

Somehow, they would make it all work out.