Author's Note: I realise this chapter is quite short, but they all do vary in length and circumstance, and the next one is quite long to make up for it :) Hope you enjoy, and thankyou to those who review, I really appreciate it even though I know the fandom's not as big as it was. :)

Two: All I Have to do is Dream

Days like these make his death worth living.

They lay under a tree in the local park, far away from the eyes and ears of anyone. She curls into his side the best she can, transfixed as usual by the sight of him in a new light: his blacks and yellows and blues thrown into the brightness of a summer's day. He can't feel the grass beneath him but he can hear it rustling beneath Suzy, can smell its distinct fresh cut sharpness and that's good enough for him. He stretches languidly, like a cat in the sun, marvelling at being out underneath the weight of a blue Australian sky. He barely misses England anymore; the dull grey of London is just a distant memory. He's been dead for five years. They have an established routine now, however patchy it might feel sometimes. Aaron is no more than a blip on the radar. Suzy had tried to keep him around, because she thought it would be better for the kids…and because she liked his company, even if she couldn't love him. But in the end, she realised that even Verity and Elvis weren't crazy about him. They had a politely fun time together, and it was comfortable, and that was it. They never asked if they should call him dad, and Verity stopped talking about what might happen if Suzy married him. She hadn't known what it was, exactly, but there was a spark missing. Maybe he'd been a crutch for them in a time of need, when having some kind of normal father figure eased the pain of being a family member short. All she knew for certain about the whole affair was that she'd hated lying next to him in the dark when Henry's absence was as much an accusation as anything.

Now, she goes on dates every month or so to ward off suspicion – but really, she tells everyone, I'm happy on my own. I don't need anyone. That's not true but it's better than saying the man she needs is invisible to anyone else. She's gotten much better at keeping herself from looking insane. After all, they've been doing this for long enough now. They don't go spiriting. She's too afraid of it since the last time and he won't let her do that to herself again. Instead they go for walks in the park, spend days on the beach, go to the movies. She buys a head set so that she can speak animatedly to him and look like she's just on the phone. They do most things a normal couple would do, except they are never seen together. It doesn't bother Henry as much as it used to, now that they can go out into the world together. Suzy is the one who'd found it the hardest, dodging questions from the kids and snapping at her sister when she got too pushy about it. Eventually they'd learnt to give it a rest, and now she and Henry have settled into their own pattern, as normal as life with a ghost can be.

"I dreamed about you last night," Suzy tells him distantly. "You were real."

"You mean I was alive," he protests.

"Does it matter?"

"Suzy," he clucks his tongue reprovingly. "I don't have much. I have to cling to whatever I can. Yes, it matters that I was alive rather than real."

"Okay then, you were alive," she concedes, shifting closer to him, the blades of grass tickling her cheek where his jacket should have done so. Now, she's more than used to the chill that comes when she's touching him. "It was wonderful. Everyone could see you."

"I don't remember that."

"No…I don't think you were there. I was dreaming about you, not with you. But everyone loved you. You were part of the family."

He grins lazily, repositioning his sunglasses against the glare. "What did the kids think of me?"

"Verity called you weird…but she said it was a nice kind of weird, like I am," she laughs.

"And Elvis?"

"He couldn't understand how I found such a cool person to be with."

It's his turn to laugh, earnestly and appreciatively, until it meets the tail end of regret.

"Shame I missed that one," he ventures, clearing his throat.

"I'm sure there'll be more," she reassures him, but he still looks sulky. She decides to take his mind off it. "That one in the pool went pretty well," she says slyly.

He grins and thinks of cool water rushing over hot skin, lips and hands and the privacy of big umbrellas. "I'd say it went very well," he replies smugly, "Shame we can't have more like that."

"I think the swimming probably triggered it," Suzy ponders, basking in the glow of his smile. She closes her eyes and remembers him sitting, unbreathing and bone dry, at the bottom of her new pool. His eyes follow as she floats around him, hair billowing in the current she's created, skin luminescent with the filtered light from above. They don't take their gaze from each other, and it's an intimacy beyond what they'd feel even in bed. "Maybe we could try that again," she breathes out, feeling a sudden heat.

"I look forward to it, Darling."

Now the air around them is charged with electricity, and she regrets bringing it up. He shifts restlessly against her for a while before sitting up to put space between them. Suzy pushes herself up too, hand falling on her necklace. He catches the expression on her face and gives her a sharp look.

"No, Suzy. Stop thinking about it."

"I wasn't thinking about spiriting," she replies defensively.

"Sure –"

"I wasn't! I was just wondering…why can't we just…you know, go to that first place like we used to?"

"What first place?"

"Well, before we knew about spiriting. We touched the medallion and went to that dark place…and then a dream…and that was it. What's wrong with that?"

He ponders it. "We never know what's going to happen though…"

"But it's never been anything bad, has it? And we'd be able to touch each other…" she bites her bottom lip, imploring him to agree. The sun has addled her brain and it's easy to imagine the heat she's feeling is coming from him, not the weather.

Henry puffs out his cheeks, considering. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt…what, you want to try now?"

"Yes," she answers firmly, already holding out the medallion for him to reach. He tries to think responsibly for a moment longer, to hold back because Suzy can't seem to manage it at times like these. Even if she is still afraid of losing time, he knows her well enough to know how easily she gets swept up.

"Just a dream," he affirms carefully, "Make sure we don't go too far, Suzy."

"I know."

"And check the time first."

"It's two fifty-six."

Suzy blinks slowly as if calming herself, but her mind is already adrift in a world that contains a Henry she can hold. Her expression is so full of adoration that he can't help it, he grins back at her in the last second before they're both ripped away from the real world.

Around and around they spin: an eternal circle in a shadowed world where tree branches screech in the whirling wind and they have to hold on or be lost. Suzy laughs, dizzy, the sound being torn from her throat and cast into the abyss as she squeezes Henry's hands tightly. His eyes burn like the moon on fire, his smile white-hot. His head pounds with the pressure of noise and nothingness that presses into his ears, the closest thing to a heartbeat he'll ever feel again. Struck with a sudden idea he lurches forward, breaking the circle, and grabs her by the waist and kisses her. The world spins madly ever onwards, a cacophony of light and sound and their lips meet with tender grace, the eye of the storm. He steps closer, their feet tangling together and just like that they trip and fall into sudden blackness. She tries to scream with the sensation but Henry keeps his mouth pressed to hers, swallows the sound, relishing it. It feels like years are passing by as they fall – and a brief moment of panic sees them both wondering if that's what's happening – until a ground comes into solid view and Henry has just enough time to twist so that he takes the fall with Suzy above him. It doesn't hurt, just knocks the breath from his lungs – breath he doesn't possess – and he gazes star struck into her face for a few dazed seconds.

Suzy's grinning, her cheeks flushed and hair a mess. Somehow, even though they've come to a stop, it feels like they're still spinning – the air around them rushes and whistles; their stomachs lurch as if the ground has been ripped away. She tries to speak but can't. She tries shouting but it sounds like white noise. There's nothing to see beyond each other's gaze – literally, nothing – just shadows. Trembling, she twists her fists into Henry's jacket and doesn't bother trying to stand. Henry doesn't mind. He repositions his legs so that she fits easily between them, her arms resting on his chest. His head is still lurching like an ocean, and as another wave surges forward he propels himself upwards and catches Suzy's lips. When they kiss, it seems to keep the spinning at bay. Time is of the essence. They don't waste it by dwelling on the sudden dead silence; they fill it with the sound of scraping clothes, ragged breaths, whispered words. All the things they don't usually get to hear. The silence is pressing in on them now, the shadows crawling closer. The dream is telling them it's time to go. They resist. Suzy steals his breath away, presses her forehead to his. Their heat is tangible, the air around them suddenly solid. Henry gasps under the pressure, digging his fingers into the crook of her elbows and then –

And then he feels nothing. Again. They're back in the blaring sun, his hands clenched against blades of grass that slip right through him. His body feels nothing, but as Henry grins at Suzy his heart bursts with enough emotion to make up for it.

"The time," he pants, catching his non-existent breath. "What's the time?"

Suzy sits up beside him, flushed with the heat of his kisses from another world, and checks her watch. "Ten past three," she announces happily. "Perfect timing. I have to go pick up Verity."

She gets to her feet, dusting off her clothes. And although he loathes the idea of leaving their rendezvous point, Henry follows along with a smile on his face. The sensation of her body lying over him is still fresh in his mind, and they catch each other's eyes every so often. Maybe it's his imagination, but he thinks he can almost feel the sunshine on his back. Yeah, he thinks with no semblance of sarcasm, pretty fucking perfect, as they share this lovely day.