Ah...this is based on a lot of things, really. But mostly it was just to develop the relationship further. Enjoy!

Folding his arms across his chest, Vaughn tapped his foot edgily as the crowd praised Chelsea for winning the Summer Crop Festival. Part of him wanted to approach her, to congratulate her as she deserved. But the other part of him – the part that was currently winning – was still too uneasy to confront her. Four days was not long enough to think about that fateful evening.

At first, he was dreading the trip to Sunny Island, still unsure of what would happen between him and the farmer after what took place at the Fireworks Festival. But knowing he could never explain to Mirabelle why he wouldn't come to the island, he convinced himself that the two of them did need to talk. If anything, he deserved an explanation for her behavior that night.

Except, even now, he still couldn't bring himself to speak with her. Especially since he had the feeling that she was avoiding him…

And he couldn't help the familiar twinge of resentment as he watched the girl pleasantly chatting with Elliot and a guy who, like most people on the island, Vaughn knew nothing of but his name: Mark.

Honestly, he knew the irritation he felt was unreasonable; they were simply talking. But for some reason, he couldn't control feeling so troubled by it.

That, along with everything else he was feeling, prevented him from moving toward her, even as she looked up and caught his eye from across the crowd. They stared for a moment, frozen in place despite the activity going on around them. Then the girl blushed and glanced away, muttering something to her companions before running off.

He watched her cross the bridge and disappear from sight. He knew where she was going, and he easily could have followed her. But instead he remained where he was; waiting for what felt like hours before finally leaving the meadow. He walked slowly, in case she wasn't far enough ahead of him – luckily, he never saw her. As he entered West Town, he hesitated for just a moment, then headed down to the beach.

He wasn't surprised to see Denny fishing at the docks; he didn't show at the festival, and the diner wasn't open on festival days, so there weren't many other things for him to do. Vaughn walked along the sandy shore slowly, reluctant to draw the other man's attention. Denny always insisted on trying to strike up a conversation when they were both at the beach, and sometimes he would go ahead and humor the fisherman; tonight, though, he didn't feel much like talking.

Unfortunately, as Denny turned and noticed him draw closer to the water, he grinned and spoke up, "Hey!"

Vaughn reached for the brim of his hat, tipping it in response to hide the roll of his eyes.

"How was the festival?" Denny asked as Vaughn stood beside where he sat on the docks.

The cowboy shrugged. "Fine, I guess," he grunted. "Chelsea won."

Denny's grin broadened, and he nodded in approval. "Awesome! I knew she could do it."

Vaughn returned the nod, watching as the waves lapped against the shore. For a few minutes, only silence passed between them, and he hoped that those were the only words that they would exchange.

However, he knew that wasn't the case when Denny spoke again, "You okay?"

Surprised by those words, Vaughn glanced at the fisherman. "Yeah," he replied. "Why?"

Denny shrugged, focusing on his fishing line. "I dunno. Just looked like you had something on your mind."

Frowning, Vaughn turned away from him and exhaled sharply through his nose, planning to ignore the fisherman…

"Is this about Chelsea?"

…only to be immediately drawn back into the conversation.

Somehow – though he wasn't sure how – he managed to keep his stoic expression as he looked back at Denny. As casually as he could, he asked, "What makes you say that?"

Denny shrugged again. "Chelsea's been kinda down for the last few days, too. I've tried asking her, but she just kept saying that she didn't wanna talk about it."

Vaughn nodded, slowly sitting beside the other man. He felt reassured knowing that Chelsea hadn't talked about what happened that night with anyone else before talking with him, but he knew that he also owed her that same courtesy. So, trying to avoid the topic, he decided to voice something else that was on his mind.

"Do you talk with Chelsea often?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, I guess." With a small sigh, Denny reeled his line back in just to cast it back out. "Sometimes she comes by at night, so we usually fish together and chat. It's a lotta fun."

The familiar wave of anger started to build again, but Vaughn's slow breathing kept it under control. He just couldn't believe how irritated he felt when he thought of the time Chelsea spent with other men. Granted, he knew he wasn't the most cheerful person in the world, but he just couldn't understand why this bothered him to the extent that it did.

Denny's voice pulled him out of his thoughts again as he asked, "Are you and Chelsea having a fight or something?"

Vaughn started to shake his head, but stopped. Thinking for a moment, he then replied reluctantly, "I don't really know."

The fisherman glanced at him with a puzzled frown. Reeling in his fishing line once again, this time he placed the rod on the docks next to him and turned to give his full attention to Vaughn. "Do you need to talk about it?"

Drumming his fingers against the wooden port, the cowboy sighed. He couldn't tell Denny what happened that night; he wanted to talk with Chelsea about it first and figure out what happened…what would happen now. And since she never mentioned it to anyone else, it wouldn't be fair for him to do so. But…the whole thing unsettled him enough that he actually wanted to talk to someone about it.

And with his lack of dealings with people, a little advice probably wouldn't hurt.

Vaughn stared at the ocean, determined to avoid Denny's eyes as he said slowly, "Something…happened between Chelsea and me…And I don't think either of us knows what to do about it."

Denny blinked, cocking his head to one side. "Good or bad?" he wondered.

Vaughn shrugged. "Hard to say."

Folding his arms over his chest, Denny inhaled deeply as he thought for a moment. Then he said, "Well…what do you think about what happened?"

With a frustrated grunt, Vaughn turned his head slightly away from the other. "I don't know what to think about it," he replied. "If anything, I'm confused. I don't know why it happened, or if I should do anything about it…or if she even wants me to do something."

"Have you tried asking her?"

Vaughn rolled his eyes. "I haven't really had the chance. I'm not here most of the week, and I didn't have a chance today because of the Crop Festival. Not to mention she's avoiding me, which means she might not want to talk to me."

Denny glanced out at the ocean. "Well," he said slowly, as though turning the words around in his mind, "apparently, you don't wanna talk to her either."

The cowboy turned and glared at the other man. "Why would you say that?"

Not intimidated by the cold gaze, the fisherman answered calmly "Because if you really wanted to talk to her, you'd be with her right now instead of me."

Vaughn's scowl deepened, but only because he knew the other was right. He was just as guilty of avoiding the farmer as she was avoiding him. But what could he do? He didn't have much experience with relationships, and this was a problem that he wasn't sure how to handle it. It was really irritating.

"So…" Vaughn sighed, "what now?"

"Well," Denny started, "the way I see it, you can do one of two things." He held up one finger. "One: You can leave it alone, pretend it didn't happen, and maybe someday you two will forget it."

Subconsciously, Vaughn licked his lips as he thought of the Fireworks Festival that night. "I doubt that'll happen," he retorted.

"Then you go with the second option." Denny held up a second finger. "You do whatever you can to figure out what's going on. Talk to her about it, 'cuz if you don't, things could get really bad."

Thinking about it for a moment, Vaughn then nodded. The whole situation made him uncomfortable, and not having the answers he needed just aggravated him. And from what Denny told him, Chelsea was just as miserable about this as he was. Talking to her about it couldn't possibly make things any worse.

"Fine," he finally said, rising to his feet. "I'll talk to her tomorrow."

Denny grinned. "Sounds like a plan."

There was an awkward pause as Vaughn looked down at the fisherman. Then, tipping his hat slightly, he muttered, "Thanks, Denny."

"Good luck," he heard Denny say as he headed back up the beach towards town.

Inhaling deeply, Vaughn slowly released it in an unsteady sigh. Hesitantly he approached the familiar house – once again larger than the last time he visited – as all the different things he wanted to say raced through his mind. Maybe it would be better if he let her speak first…

Standing at the door, he steeled himself and mustered all the composure he could manage. He raised his hand to knock, but didn't get the chance when the door suddenly opened.

"Whoa!" Mark exclaimed, stopping short to avoid running into the cowboy. Looking up at Vaughn, he rubbed the back of his head with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, man. Didn't see you there."

Vaughn simply stared at the shorter blond man for a moment, then slowly looked up to see Chelsea standing in the middle of her house; the surprised expression she wore on her face matched his own.

The silence that followed soon became uncomfortable, and Mark laughed a little nervously, scooting around the cowboy. Glancing back at the girl, he said, "Well, uh…see you later, Chelsea."

Vaughn watched as the other man hurried away, whistling cheerfully as he left the ranch. Turning back to the farmer, he met her wide sapphire eyes with narrow uncertainty.

"Vaughn…" she said softly.

Shaking his head, he turned and left.

Adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder, Vaughn slowly made his way through town. It was very cool that last summer evening, and the clouds that gathered above indicated that it might rain tomorrow. He vaguely wondered if it would start raining while he was still at sea.

He slowed a little as he neared the beach, glancing up at the moon. There was still a little time before the ferry arrived, and he debated whether or not to head to the farm and see Chelsea before leaving. After what happened that morning, he spent the entire day in the forest lost in his own thoughts. And the realizations that he came to calmed him down immensely while, at the same time, brought about a whole different set of problems. Trying to sort through it all took the rest of the day, and before he realized it the day was over before he had the chance to talk with the farmer.

As he approached the docks, however, he saw that it wouldn't be a problem.

Under the light of the moon, he could make out the two familiar figures on the harbor; Denny stood, fighting to reel in his line while Chelsea knelt down with a net, ready to scoop up the catch. They were both laughing, and he could feel the familiar spark ignite in his chest.

He stood, watching them as the fish was finally defeated, and Denny held it up proudly as Chelsea clapped her hands together. The fire within him grew, but he simply sighed and turned to leave.

"Hey, Vaughn!" Denny's voice froze him in place, and he forced himself to turn back around. Though the fisherman was the one who called him back, he glanced at the farmer, her eyes wide with surprise.

His feet moved of their own accord, slowly approaching the two on the docks. "Hey," he replied automatically.

"You waitin' for the ferry?" the fisherman wondered, resting his fishing rod against his shoulder.

"Yeah." Vaughn glanced at the female farmer again; slightly embarrassed, she blushed and turned away.

"I see…" Denny said slowly, looking between the two of them. Then, with a grin, he reached down and picked up his bucket of fish. "Guess I didn't realize how late it was. Better get to bed so I can get up early tomorrow. See you guys later."

They both looked up in alarm as Denny turned to leave, but Vaughn managed to catch the other man wink as he bustled off to his house, closing the door behind him and leaving them alone on the beach. He wasn't sure whether to thank the fisherman or to kill him.

A heavy silence settled over them, and he turned to look out at the ocean. A gentle wind blew overhead and sprayed a light mist; shivering, the girl wrapped her arms around herself.

"Vaughn…" she finally said softly, and he almost didn't hear her over the hiss of the waves, "what happened this morning…with Mark…it's not what you think."

He shrugged. "What you and Mark do is your business, not mine."

She looked up at him. "He's studying to be a rancher, too. He came over and asked to look at my ranching tools, so I showed him how to use them. That's it."

He studied her curiously. "Why do you feel like you need to explain it to me?"

She blushed, unsure as she averted her eyes. "I…I just…" She swallowed nervously. "You just seemed so…angry this morning."

He grunted. "I was," he replied. "But not for the reason you might think."

He felt her puzzled eyes focused on him, but he ignored her question as he cleared his throat. Then the girl sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Vaughn…" she said again, "about the Fireworks Festival…"

He tensed slightly. "Yeah…?"

Her blush deepened, and she played with her fingers fretfully. "I'm…I-I'm sorry about…that. I didn't mean to make things uncomfortable like this."

Vaughn turned to face her. "So what did you mean?"

Chelsea frowned, shaking her head slightly. "I…I don't know."

He growled in frustration as he folded his arms over his torso. But he inhaled deeply, working to keep himself in check before speaking again. "I need to ask you something…"

She glanced at him curiously. "What's that?"

His foot tapped against the dock restlessly as his mind worked to find the right words. "What…" he began slowly, "what is your relationship to…the other guys on this island?"

She stared at him silently for a moment, blinking in surprise. "The…other guys?"

He nodded. "Denny, Elliot, Mark, Pierre…all of them. What are they to you?"

She frowned a little, looking up at the dark sky thoughtfully. "Well…they're all great guys, and they're fun to be around. Elliot's family kind of took me in when we first got stranded on this island, so he's kind of like a brother to me. Mark, I told you, wants to be a rancher and comes to talk to me, and sometimes he'll help me with the chores around my farm. Denny and I hang out around here sometimes, and we catch fish together and he tells me about some of the places he's been, and the fish he's caught. Pierre shows me little things to help me cook, and sometimes when I've been working all day, he lets me drop by for dinner."

"What about that jungle boy?" Vaughn asked. "Shea?"

"Shea…" she said slowly, tapping her chin with her fingers. "Shea…doesn't ask much from me. He doesn't care about the island's reputation, and he doesn't expect me to win fame for this place. He's happy if I win a festival, and he's upset if I lose, but it's just because of how I feel. When I feel so overwhelmed by all the things I have to do, I can always head over to him to relax and forget for a little bit. He's a great friend." She smiled a little. "They're all my friends…just like everyone else around here."

He hesitated for a moment, fiddling with the brim of his hat. "Everyone?" he asked.

She paused, turning toward him with uncertain eyes. "Well…" she said reluctantly, "it started out that way…"

"So what changed?" he wondered.

"I…I don't know." She crossed her arms, shivering again – though this time it wasn't because of the cold. "When we first met, I really did want to be friends."

He waited, but when she didn't continue, he gently prompted her, "And now…?"

Chelsea blushed again, looking down at her feet as she whispered, "Now, I think…I want something more…"

Silence once again fell over them, interrupted only by the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. His heart pounded against his chest, sending heat coursing all throughout his body. His wide eyes watched as she fidgeted nervously before him, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally spoke again. "Look, Vaughn…I am…sorry that what happened at the Fireworks Festival made things so…weird between us. But I'm not sorry that it happened. Even if that's all that comes from it, I don't mind. I just hope that you and I…that we can –"

He cut her off as he slipped his fingers underneath her chin, tilting her head up to look at him. Her cheeks darkened, and her sapphire eyes widened in surprise. He answered her by simply leaning forward and gently pressing his lips to hers.

He felt her body stiffen, but only for a moment before she relaxed; her hands moved between them and tightly gripped the front of his shirt, almost desperately. His arms wrapped around her waist, gently pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. He could feel her heart beating rapidly, keeping perfect time with his own.

The booming echo of a horn shattered the moment between them, and they both pulled away to see the ferry approaching the docks.

He kept his eyes on the looming boat, trying to avoid the misery shining in her sapphire eyes. "You're leaving now?" she asked, her grip on his shirt tightening.

Sighing softly, he placed his hands on hers, gently easing her grip on him. "I have to be in the city tomorrow," he replied. Still, even though she'd released his shirt, he continued holding her hands.

Though she tried to look angry, she could only muster a little pout. "That's not fair…"

He smirked a little. "I'll be back in a week."

Crossing her arms, she released an exaggerated sigh. "I didn't make you wait that long!" she complained, but he could hear the teasing in her tone.

The walkway to the boat was lowered, waiting for him to embark. He hesitated, glancing at the girl. She gave him a small smile, and he tipped his hat before slowly walking onto the boat.

It felt almost immediately that the walkway was pulled back up and the boat shoved off the harbor, floating farther out to sea. Vaughn stood on the deck, his eyes remaining on the beach where Chelsea stood and watching until she was completely out of sight. Then, with a sigh, he pulled his hat lower over his head as the familiar frustrating spark light his chest, sending hot flames flowing in his blood.

Because of his lack of real relationships, it had taken him so long to recognize the truth behind these familiar sensations. But his time in the forest today showed him that the anger he felt was never toward Chelsea, or even to the other men that she interacted with. The resentment was always pointed at himself.

All this time, and only now did he finally realized how much he wanted to be just like them. He wanted to be like all those other guys who lived on that island, who had the chance to see Chelsea every day…who had the chance to get to know her, to talk with her and laugh with her, and spend time with her every day…

He wanted it…but it was something he felt he would never have.