so i lied, I couldn't wait to get this chapter up for you guys.

Disclaimer: I own nothing at all. THe poem is by Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae of the Canadian Army. he wrote it after the battle at Flander's Field. He actually wrote it, hated it and started to throw it away when one of his fellow soliders picked it up and told him to keep it.

also a big thank you to BEAVERBOYXD, he helped me out with the Canada Day stuff. However, i didn't use as much as i thought i would, i hope you guys enjoy it anyway!!

Chapter 11: The First Summer

"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer"~ Albert Camus.

I told myself that it would just be for the summer. We'd be stupid and seventeen again, but just for the summer. I wouldn't let it go past that time that Emma left for school; it wouldn't be fair to either of us to drag it out.

Life went on though, strangely. Dee and Paul came home from their honeymoon, Emma continued with her job at the Wong's and I kept up with the job I always had during the summer; Dee and I tutored the older kids in the district for the University exams. Everything settled into a rhythm, a pattern that we all began to rely on.

But I forgot about silly things like rules and school and the pattern when Logan got off work and it was just the two of us, laughing or talking about everything and anything. Any extra time we had, we would spend it together, it didn't matter where (whether it was my kitchen counter, back patio, backyard, or even his apartment) as long as we were together.

Now that everything (Well everything on his side) was out in the open, he told me all sorts of stories, some funny, some sad but very few happy stories.

"In Flanders Fields the poppies blow…" I read out loud.
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields…So you knew John McCrae?"I asked when I had finished and pointed to the name on the page. "You met him?" It was a few days after Canada Day and Logan'd shown up after Emma'd left for work. We didn't do a lot of going out; mostly it was what we'd done before the wedding, just being together. He saw all my books and had been asking what I was reading. So I pulled out my favorite book of poetry and showed him.

He checked the name again. "Yep. I met him there."

"At Flanders' Field?"

He nodded. "Nice guy. Good doctor."

"How did you meet him?"

"Victor and I were on our way out and our platoon had to be checked out by the doctor. After he was done, the doctor sat down by the campfire we'd built and he wrote it all out. Took one look when he'd finished and threw it away. I grabbed it and told him to keep it."

"You saved it?"

He nodded again.

"You do realize that this is my favorite poem right?"

"You've only told me a hundred times."

I shook my head. "I can't believe this."

He only smiled and pushed a few strands of hair behind my ear.

I, on the other hand, admitted that I'd once been proposed to and was engaged for about a week before I called it off.

"What happened?" He asked.

"I just realized that I couldn't go through with it. That I was holding on because I was scared to let go. Mom was getting really sick and Emma was crying every night." Almost without my knowledge, his arm was around me. "I didn't love him."

"What was his name?"

"Patrick. Patrick McMinn."

He snorted. "So, he was a leprechaun."

"He was not! He was very cute and plenty tall."

"How'd you meet him?'
"University. We were both going to be teachers. He got a job in Quebec. He's still there, I think."

He was quiet for a second.

"Hey." I kissed his cheek. "I'm not with him now, am I?"

"I supposed not." And he smiled at me and made my heart melt a little. But moments like that always made it harder. On a subconscious level that would take hold of me at some point later that night, railed at me that I knew that it was going to end, that I would be the one who would break his heart into a thousand pieces. Those nights, I would curl up into a ball under my covers; half wishing that I wouldn't wake the next morning and in the next second hoping with all my heart that my first request wouldn't come true. `

I forgot who I was who he was, on days when the sun would dip low and the birds would sing. It was a whole new world to see and live in. We weren't Kayla and Logan, I wasn't a horrible demon bitch who was lying to him all the time, and he wasn't a poster child for post-traumatic stress syndrome, we simply were on those Saturdays. We would find our way out into the backyard and lay down in the sun to forget the world we were living in, hoping against hope that we would be reborn into more. I always slept on my stomach, my head on my hands and he was on his back, his hands beneath his head.

Sometimes I would doze off and then wake up suddenly. I'd blink and when my vision cleared I looked over at him to see his eyes on me, a smile on his face. "What?" I murmured, rubbing my eyes.

"Nothing," he motioned for me to come closer.

I did and he reached over and untangled a few leaves from my hair, his fingers lingering, moving softly across my scalp, threading the strands between his fingers and tracing the outline of my ear.

Logan always did everything with such deliberateness, such precision. Even this little action seemed planned and measured; careful of how to keep his strength in check at all times. He insisted that he had to. He claimed to have been an animal, a wild uncontrollable monster that was just as likely to turn on a friend like he would an enemy.

"I know you'd never hurt me…" I informed him one late July Saturday.

By this time, I had looped my arm across his chest and he'd wrapped one around my shoulder. He liked to keep a hold on me when he told me about his brother or himself, as if to remind himself of where he was, who he was now.

"I might." He lifted up his hand into the sunlight to inspect it.

"You wouldn't."

"Kayla…" he sighed, getting ready to launch into the Kayla-why-are-you-so-stubborn-speech.

"No, I know you could. The potential is there." I said. "I mean I could flip out on you and stab you with a kitchen knife."

"Which wouldn't do much," he chuckled.

"Making a point here." I held up a finger to silence him. "My point is; I'm well aware of the fact that you can hurt me, I don't think you could actually do it."

He frowned and looked down at me." I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm not talking about wanting to, or not wanting to. I'm talking about crunch time and the fact that you wouldn't be able to do it."

He chuckled, and it rumbled through his chest. It was a comforting sound like the house settling while you try to fall asleep. I always closed my eyes to appreciate it. "Why is that?"

I shrugged. This was the part where I stood up on my hands, leaned over and kissed him until our discussion was the last thing on his mind.

I knew the real answer and so did he. But neither of us would admit why because there wouldn't be any hiding after that. There wouldn't be an easy way out, a summer. If we admitted it, summer would last forever and it couldn't be. I couldn't let it.

There were some days I wished it could be so, especially when we kissed and he would slide his hands up under the hem of my shirt, press his thumbs against my hipbones and hold me tight against him. Or when he'd murmur my name in my ear when he hugged me after we hadn't seen each other for a few days. It worried me how much I wished time would stop right at those moments. But those moments always ended and others came. More insistent, more heated.

Once, I found myself undoing a few of the buttons on his shirt and slipping my hand down the back of the neck as I felt the top of his smooth broad back beneath my fingers. He rested his forehead in the curve of my neck, whispering my name over and over.

I always came crashing back to reality, realizing that we couldn't be doing this. We'd agreed not to while Emma was there.

Emma was another problem. She was always on my back, asking questions about us.

"So, do you love him?" She asked one day while I was dropping her off at work.

"I don't know, Emma."

She rolled her eyes. "You never do."

"It's not one of those things you just know. You have to get to know the person first."

"Wow, you really suck the romance out of it, don't you?" Emma giggled.

"And what would you know?" I asked her.

"I know it's not a decision that you make, it just happens. You are resisting at every turn and I don't get why."

I only sighed. "Emma…you'll understand when you get older."

Even though I didn't want to see it, I was falling harder every day. Every day, I waited until four o'clock, anxious as a cat in a dog pound, until Logan got off work and every night, I had to pry myself away from him. We got so few hours that I didn't dare waste them.

But the day came when it was time for Emma to go back to school. We loaded up the Beast, as we'd taken to calling it and drove down to the Calgary train station.

We were both quiet, neither of us wanted to mark the miles as they passed. While, I realized that I'd survived last year's absence, I still didn't like it and that became apparent when she was getting ready to board. We both burst into tears.

"Don't forget me," she begged as she gripped my t-shirt between her fingers.

"Oh honey," I laughed through my tears. "I loved you first." And it was true. I could remember the first time I saw her.

Christopher had grabbed me from the babysitter's early in the morning and drove me to the hospital. I asked question after question about my mother and new baby sister.

"What's her name?" I wondered.

"Emma Renee Frost." Christopher replied, a note of pride in his voice.

"It's pretty,"

"Just like her."

I remembered walking into the maternity ward, my sneakers sounding extra loud against the linoleum. Christopher led me down a hallway and then opened a door.

"Mama!" I cried; I'd missed her more than I realized.

"Shush, Kay." Mom chided gently as Christopher lifted me onto the bed. In her arms was a little pink bundle. "Do you want to meet your sister?"

I nodded, fascinated by the seemingly-intricate folds and swirls of the pale pink baby blanket.

Mom lifted one flap and there was Emma, a blond curl over her forehead.

I reached out and took one of her tiny fingers in mine. Miraculously, her fingers closed over mine and held tight, as if she was afraid to let go. In that instant, I loved her more so than I had anyone else.

"But you have this whole new life," she whispered. "And so do I. Nothing'll ever be the same."

"No, it won't. It can't be." I kissed her forehead. "But I won't ever love you less."

"What if you marry him?" She was six again as I held her in my arms.

"I'll still love you first."

Emma nodded and dried her tears. "I should go."

"I love you. Always have." I reminded her. I'd loved her from that first moment when her tiny little fingers gripped mine.

"Always will," she promised and hopped on the train.

I waved to her until the train was gone from sight, feeling my heart being torn in two. I couldn't let the summer end; I realized and went to the closest pay phone.

I threw in a few coins and dialed.

He picked up on the third ring. "Hello?"

"It's me," I whispered, the tears had leaked into the back of my throat and I couldn't talk any higher.

"Did Emma leave?"

"Yeah, I'll be home in an hour."

"I'll get the Chinese."

"Key's under the mat."

"I know. Be careful."

"I will."

We never said goodbye on the phone, but we hung up at the same time and I headed for my car.

I made it home in record time and as promised, I could smell Chinese as soon as I walked into the house. I set down the keys and my purse in the hallway and followed Paul McCartney's voice into the kitchen, where Logan was waiting for me on the counter.

He hopped down and held out his hand. I took it and pressed my face into his neck, breathing deeply to control the tears.

"Long day?" he wondered.

I grinned despite myself. "Very."

"I got your favorite."

I looked behind him and smiled again. I reached up and looped my arms around his neck. "This is what I want."

He grinned and kissed me, his hands pressing against my hip bones squeezing just enough to send electric shocks up and down my spine. His hands moved upward until they rested on my ribcage. He paused; this was where I always backed off and said: "No, we can't."

But I kept kissing him, kept winding my hands through his hair. I let one trail down and start to yank at his shirt. When I heard the buttons ping across the linoleum floor, we stopped as if we'd been struck by lightning.

"I don't want to stop," I admitted in a single breath.

"Then don't." We didn't speak again for a long while.

The shifting shadows of the trees made strange shapes on my ceiling. The shifting blue and black shapes were comforting and I was tired but wasn't ready to give into sleep, not yet. Amazingly, after all things considered, I was just drowsy, the good kind.

I glanced down to see Logan's serene sleeping face and I couldn't help but smile too. I pressed a kiss to his neck and extracted myself from his arms and grabbed the shirt I sort of ruined from off the floor.

I padded out to the bathroom and poured myself a glass of water, absent-mindedly braiding my hair back from my face. As I finished the glass and wandered back to my bed and Logan.

I'd only been gone a minute or two, but, apparently it was enough to send him into an all out nightmare.

He growled names in his sleep: "Stryker! Victor! No! NO! Stop! Don't!" and thrashed until he awoke with a gasp and sat up.

"Logan?" I called softly from the doorway as not to scare him too much.

He blinked twice and then seemed to remember where he was. He looked over at me, eyes wide with horror.

"Babe? Are you okay?" I sat down slightly behind him and placed a gentle hand on the center of his back. "Was it as bad as it looked?"

He grinned shakily at this. "I don't know. How bad was it?"

I pressed my lips to the base of his neck before I answered. "You were shouting about Stryker and Victor…You kept saying 'No' and 'Stop' and 'Don't'."

He let go of a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Just as bad then."

I looped my arms around his waist and was quiet. A moment passed, then another and I felt his hands cover mine. We sat there, just breathing deep until:

"Why are you wearing a shirt? If I remember correctly that was one of the first things to go." He twisted around with that cheeky smile of his.

"This is yours." I rolled my eyes. "I didn't want to wear you know…nothing…I was thirsty and it was close."

"Didn't you pull all the buttons off?" His hand hovered over mine where I was holding it closed. "In a hurry to get it off me?"

"Don't be smug!" I growled. "They were in the way. Besides," I slipped it off and ran my hand over his collarbone and then down his chest. "I haven't had nearly enough of this."

"Can I ask you something?" I wondered later still. The sun hadn't come up yet but it would in a few hours.

"What?" Logan asked looking down at me.

"Why did you rescue me that night in the bar?" I pressed my chin into my hand as I looked up at him.

"What was I supposed to do?" He laughed. "Let you get taken advantage of?"

"Really! I'm being serious, here!" I poked him hard in the ribs.

"Fine," he sighed and kissed the scar on my forehead. "Fine. Remember after your accident and our little altercation in front of the Chinese restaurant?"

"Yes, I remember it very well."

"What did you say I had…? 'A whacked sense of honor'?"

"Wait! So, I'm a damsel in distress to you?"

"No…" he sighed. "You're quite capable of taking care of yourself, and Emma, and Paul, and Dee and me all by yourself."

"Well," I ran my hand up over his collar bone to his cheek. "I'm glad I have you now. It's not so lonely."

"I'm glad to be of service."

"Can I ask you something else?"

"Shoot."

"Does this..?" I pointed to us. "Does this make you happy?"

He tightened his hold on me and sighed dramatically. "Do I have to prove it again?"

"No…" I pressed a hand to his chest to stop him from moving much more, I was really quite comfortable. "I just know how much you worry about control and…" I trailed off.

He didn't say much at first. "It does worry me," he admitted finally. "With the nightmares and all…but," he tilted my chin up so I had no choice but to look up at him. "I'm in if you are."

I grinned. "I'm in…." I replied with a yawn as I sealed both of our fates for good.

The next chapter is going to be vera vera intresting!

Peace out guys!!!! and remember R AND R does not stand for rest and relaxation!