Author's note - things are rolling right along smoothly. Sorry, I have been lacking on Jackson and Melissa, but you all must know these things take time. So, be patient. Because…I'm not sure how they're gonna work out…and thanks for the Beaver praise again. I enjoy writing his character too. Because I don't have to channel anybody. He's completely mine and that makes it easier to write him. Glad everybody likes him tho. And! If you don't, please tell me and let me know why.
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"I want to get something straight," Melissa said abruptly. Jackson glanced up from the folds of the blankets he was now staring at. "I want to know exactly how you feel about me, Jackson."
Jackson was quiet for a moment. "Alright."
"Because I'm tired of feeling like I'm being led on. I'm tired of feeling like you don't return my feelings and -"
"Melissa," Jackson interrupted. "I said okay."
"Oh," Melissa said quietly. "You don't like me, do you?" She asked. "You just act like maybe you do so I don't get too upset, right?"
"No," Jackson said. "I like you," he said. "Okay? I like you. A lot."
"Really?" Melissa asked, perking up slightly.
"Yes," Jackson answered. "I do really like you, Mel. You're my best friend. I just don't know what I'm going to do with that. I don't what to do next. I mean -"
Jackson was silenced as Melissa leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. Everything stopped as Jackson and Melissa became so intimate that they didn't hear the door crack open. Jackson and Melissa pulled back slightly, enough to get some air. "This clears things up quite a bit," Jackson breathed.
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"I wouldn't look at you twice if I wasn't stuck on a boat with you," Beaver told Taylor.
Taylor shrugged. "Is this how you homeless kids woo girls?" She asked. "Because, let me be the first to tell you, it's not working."
"You're not my type," Beaver continued. "You're preppy. And snobby. And worst of all…you're rich."
A grin slid across Taylor's face. "I thought the whole jist of you poor people was to go toward the money. I don't get it."
Beaver shook his head. "Taylor." Beaver sat up straighter, but Taylor moved across the bed to sit beside him. "Taylor, seriously. You're making me very uncomfortable."
"Aren't you just the cutest thing," Taylor murmured, pinching Beaver's cheeks.
Beaver swatted Taylor hands away. "I am not."
"Yes you are," Taylor argued. "You're adorable."
Beaver looked appalled. "I beg your pardon!" Taylor inched closer. "Wait, what are you doing? Seriously, back up." But Taylor had already pressed her lips against Beaver's and Beaver could reject her no longer. He faded into the kiss, and they moved together as one. Taylor tasted good, despite how long she'd lived on the beach. And Beaver was unfamiliar to Taylor. He was rough but considerate and inexperienced. It was adorable.
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"Daley, can I talk to you?" Nathan asked, approaching Daley slowly. "In private?"
"Sure," Daley said as he led her into a separate room. "What is it?"
"We'll be home in two days," Nathan began. Daley nodded in agreement. "So now that we're getting back into civilization, I think we should talk about us."
"Us?" Daley asked.
"What is this between us, Daley?" Nathan asked. "I like you and I know you like me. What's holding us back?" Daley opened her mouth but a shout from the captain's cabin interrupted her before she could answer Nathan. Nathan and Daley filed out of the room in quick order.
When they returned to the captain's room, Eric was on the ground and Rodney was pressing a gun against his head. "Is that my gun?" Nathan asked, entering the room.
Eric gave an uncomfortable laugh. "Yeah, about that -"
"No it's not," Rodney interrupted. "It's my gun."
"What are you doing?" Daley asked. "Why? We're two days away from shore. There's no where for you to run to anymore."
"We are approaching a small port outside of Washington," Rodney announced. "I will make my leave and you guys can keep the boat."
Daley shrugged. "Okay."
"No," a voice said from the doorway. Four heads turned to see Jackson filling the doorway, Melissa not far behind him. "You're not leaving us."
"That's touching," Rodney murmured. "Keeping me close, hm?" He gripped Eric's shoulder hard, ramming the gun against his head with more force. "But you don't have much choice. Do you? Again."
Jackson shrugged. "Kill him. And then what? Pick each of us off, one by one. You're still not running away. We are going back together."
Rodney shook his head, shifted his gun and fired off a round. Eric gave a cry before he realized it wasn't he who had been shot. Each pair of eyes attempted to follow the direction of the gun. But they didn't need to because Taylor collapsed behind Melissa. "Damn," Rodney whistled. "I was aiming for the Chinese chick."
Beaver had caught Taylor and lowered her to the ground and now he knelt over her, putting extensive pressure on her wound, which was just on her arm, but without adequate care, she could die. "It's okay, Taylor," Beaver murmured.
"I'm bleeding," Taylor gasped. "I can't the pain. Why can't I feel it?"
"Endorphins," Beaver told her. "They reduce the pain in the body. It's a defense mechanism, Taylor. It's a good thing." Beaver licked his suddenly dry lips. "It's not because you'll probably pass out soon but…" Beaver squeezed her arm tighter, feeling the blood slip between his fingers. "I'm not gonna let you die, Taylor."
Taylor reached up with an arm, tracing the line of Beaver's chin. "I know you won't," she murmured, her eyelids threatening to close. Beaver caught Taylor's hand before she let it drop. He squeezed it hard. "Stay with me, Beaver..."