The sky is an achingly clear blue and the edges of the horizon are drifting out of sight when he finally appears. Alone; his ship is a dark smudge against the edge of the sky, nothing more.
He drapes his arms over the sides of the dinghy, laughing. "I'm not entirely sure this is within the rules."
She smiles crookedly at him. "I'm not entirely sure I care in the least." She reaches out to touch his naked shoulders, warm skin thrumming under her fingers. Two years. It has been two years, and their son has learned to talk and there is so much to tell him and...
Her fingers dig into his skin and then she is hauling him, soaking wet and bare, into the little boat. He smells of smoke and salt.
"Pirate," he whispers against her mouth, falling into her.