A/N: A very long chapter - and the second to last one, too. The next/last chapter will be pretty short, though. So enjoy this length! Thank you so much again to all wonderful people reading and reviewing this!

EDITED

The afternoon was warm and sunny, like every other day had been over the past few months. Wispy, feather-like clouds floated across the sapphire sky. Looking up, Daine felt the warmth shine on her face, and she soaked in every drop she could. Summer was her favorite season, she decided. Because it was always warm, it was always bright; animals were always around. Flowers bloomed and children laughed – it was impossible not to enjoy summer. She was sitting at a white, circular table in the center of a broad courtyard, sipping iced tea and watching people pass by, jogging in the park or walking dogs or simply relaxing in the sunshine. There were lots of full, chattering tables around her; people tending to congregate at the courtyard to buy tea and lemonade. The park was mostly open grass up to the sidewalks by the road, where busy cars sped from traffic light to traffic light with the occasional screech or honk. Scattered here and there in the park were thin, lanky trees, mostly scraggly-looking oaks. A few dirt paths zigzagged through the field. Almost all the park-goers were strolling along the paths, though a few ventured into the well-watered grass, playing catch with their kids and shouting happily. Daine swirled her straw around in her tea, making the ice cubes clink and glimmer. The taps on the glass made a sound like a piano key with every turn. Across the table, Numair leaned back in a wrought-iron chair and grinned at her, his dark eyes sparkling. All of a sudden, the park disappeared around her. Putting her elbows on the table, Daine leaned forward and rested her chin her hands, smiling back at him as she did so. Numair dropped his chair back down to the ground, and he leaned forward too, bringing their faces inches apart. Without warning, he lifted his hands to cup her face, and he kissed her, his lips curling into a smile as they eased gently over hers.

When they broke apart, Daine raised her eyebrows at him, suppressing a smile of her own. He was usually reserved around her in public; he knew what people thought. But this was different, for he was completely at ease, holding her hand without any concern or anxiety. "What was that for?" murmured Daine, speaking coyly into his shadow. Their faces were still playfully close, and Numair's eyes glittered with amusement.

"Because I love you," he said brightly.

Daine laughed, shaking her head. Numair only kissed her again, this time lingering longer before he pulled away and grinned even more broadly. "Love you too," replied Daine.

Numair picked up her hand, rubbing small, gentle circles into her palm. He didn't let go as they sat together, watching people pass and keeping an eye on the sun as it inched its careful arc through the sky. Turning her head, Daine squinted across the table. For all of them time that she had known him, there had been something lurking in the back of her mind, like an ocean creature that did not want to emerge from the deep. "Numair?" she asked, the word slipping out before she really had time to decide what she was going to say.

"Yes?" He tilted his head in question, but Daine looked away, down at their twined fingers, then away from that, too. With her free hand, she traced a path of moisture from her glass to the rim of the table, running damp fingers along the cool edge. She watched her own hand and spoke.

"How come you never asked me?"

"Asked you what?"

"You never asked what happened to me, or where my family was. When we first met, I mean."

Frowning, Numair reached out a hand and lifted her chin, so she was looking at him once again. The sparkles in his eyes had faded into a gentle light. They held a glow of concern, caring, sympathy, and everything else, all at once. Daine blinked, and Numair continued rubbing her palm, speaking casually for all that his serious eyes were fixated on her. "I figured… that if it was something I needed to know, you would choose when you wanted to tell me."

"When Onua asked me, I told her."

He considered this. When he moved his hand from her face, Daine didn't look away. "Were you never curious?" she asked quietly.

"I always wondered. I was always curious – but I wanted you to choose, you know?"

Daine nodded. "Yeah, I know." She rubbed at a dark spot on the table, pressing so hard that her finger started to feel raw. Sighing, she fished an ice cube out of her drink and held it against her fingertip, waiting for the sting to go numb. Daine closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and broke the barrier that she so often placed between herself and her memories. "I lived in a country-type area. Not in the big city, but not in the middle of nowhere, either. Just – rural. Bit like a ranch. With my mom, her dad – my grandfather – and my animals. I had a lot of pets; I had two dogs, three cats, two horses, and even a mouse that stayed in the basement. And Cloud, of course. I never met my father." She looked up, then back at her fingers. Numair reached out and brushed a strand of hair off of her face.

"When I was thirteen, in the summer there were at least four big forest fires in the woods around us. But we didn't go anywhere. Some people left because it was so hot and smoky, but we stayed. Grandda didn't like to move. It wasn't really a problem for a while, not until the very end of the summer, when most places started to get cool again. It was still too dry at home, and another fire started, this time close to us. We didn't know what to do. We should've left, like a lot of people did. There were state department guys on their way, we heard, but not fast enough. So we went down to the basement and waited. We thought that was the safest place. There wasn't much wood there, not like the rest of the house."

Even though the air was warm, she shivered. She dropped the ice cube and rubbed her arms instead, trying to keep herself warm. It wasn't good to feel cold on a day so sunny. She had to keep talking; it was easier now that she had started. "But then the smoke started coming through the crack under the door. We knew we had to get out, there were no windows or anything in the basement, so we had to go up. My mom opened the door – and there was fire, everywhere. Everything was gone. And I… I don't remember much, just the heat and flames and smoke. I don't know how I got out. I was holding Cloud, and my mom pushed me towards the front door. Somehow… I was outside. But they were still in there." She paused, shutting her eyes tight again.

"Daine?"

"I'm okay," she whispered. "Cloud and I – we tried to go back in. But everywhere there was fire; I got burned again and again, but I couldn't stop." Her arms moved to her sides, rubbing a place right above her waist where she could still see the fire's mark. "I kept trying until my someone was there. He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back from the door, away from the flames. He burned himself to do it. And I thought at first he was there to help. As much as I could think. My ma, my grandda, all my animals… all except Cloud, they were in there. In the fire. Even the horses, in the stables. I couldn't help them. But the man – whoever he was – he pushed me to the ground and stood over me. I had time to look around and I saw that none of the trees around my house was burning. Just my house. He pulled a lighter and a box of matches from his pocket, and he had a backpack with a thing of gasoline in it. He dropped them on the ground beside me and wrapped my fingers around the lighter."

Now Numair moved. He rose from his chair and came over to her, pulling her onto her feet and into his arms. Her words became muffled against his chest, and Daine was grateful.

"I don't remember what happened next. I just know I saw the police and firefighters. They were coming to me. I didn't trust them, I knew what it all looked like, and I couldn't – I couldn't face it. I ran. Into the woods, as far as I could – they couldn't chase me, nobody one knows the forest like I did. I ran away from it all. I left them."

The arms around her tightened. Numair's voice was low and quiet, ridden with pain. "Daine…."

"I didn't know what else to do," she said breathlessly, looking up at him. She could feel the silent, slow tears on her face, and she didn't try to stop them. "I had no one and I didn't want to leave everything I knew. But someone – that man – I don't know why he started the fire. But I knew they'd be looking for me instead. I had to keep running. I ran away, scared and helpless."

"You weren't running away."

"Then what was I doing?" Daine's voice caught in her throat. She looked away from him, biting her lip and cursing. "I didn't do anything to help them. I didn't even try."

"You were protecting yourself," he murmured, brushing his thumb across her cheeks, wiping away the tears. "There's a difference. You tried, Daine, you did everything you could."

A moment passed, where the sounds of the park and people around them seemed to come back to life. Birds were cawing and chirping from the tall trees, and laughter and little snippets of conversations floated through the air. Even the buzzing insects grew louder. Daine sighed, resting her head back on Numair's chest. She was aware of people watching them, but only in a small, distant part of her mind. The rest of her didn't care. "It doesn't matter anymore," she said slowly. "Not now. It's over. It's forgotten about."

"It always matters, Daine. Always."

Daine closed her eyes. She knew that.

"I'm glad you told me," murmured Numair from above her, his voice soft and gentle.

"Yeah," she said. "Me too."

She woke covered in nervous sweat, breathing hard like she'd just run a mile. She gasped in mouthful after mouthful of cold, clean air, the scratch of smoke lingering in her throat. Flames danced in her vision, then vanished, the darkness impenetrable.

I'm scared. I'm lost, alone, terrified. There has to be someone – somewhere – nowhere –

Everything was hot, burning; her side stung, and she winced. Cold rushed over her as she shook her head fiercely. The memories fought back, and she let out a small cry, barely able to maintain the wall against them. She felt the tips of the fire trying to push through to devour her.

I won't let them. No – it won't happen, it hasn't happened –

Suddenly strong arms enveloped her, and she curled into them at once, letting her shelter chase away the pain. Gentle words whispered against her ear. She closed her eyes and listened, letting the memories wash away.

"You're all right, Daine. It's over. I'm here."

She opened her eyes, and there was no more fire, no more pain, no more fear.

He was there.

"If you keep this up, we'll have an aviary in here sometime soon," said Numair, very dryly.

"Two birds doesn't make the place an aviary," retorted Daine. "Numair, he's hurt. I can't take him to the shelter, the dogs and cats would tear him apart. Cloud's fine with birds, but the others aren't so much. Please, Numair?"

She wasn't just holding some injured songbird like she was the last time, though. That little bird that she'd gotten a few weeks ago was hopping on the kitchen counters at the moment, its hurt foot bound in a tiny bandage, tiny wings fluttering to help it move. For some reason, it never tried to fly away. But the animal in Daine's arms now was far from a cute, harmless sparrow. Sharp eyes seemed to pierce daggers at Numair, the frightening sight made complete by a vicious-looking beak and powerful claws. Numair didn't know how Daine managed to hold the thing. It was some sort of hawk, or more likely a falcon, based on its size and coloring. It was mostly grey, with a white belly and darker flecks around the wings and face. Daine was cradling it like a baby. There was something wrong with one of its wings. It was twisted at an odd angle, and when Daine shifted her arms, the falcon cried out in pain. Daine winced at the sound. She looked up fiercely at Numair once more. "Please, Numair! You've got to help me. You can't just let him suffer."

"Fine, fine!" consented Numair, holding up his hands in defeat. "Of course we can try and treat him, but – you know he can't stay."

Daine didn't look happy, but it she seemed to decide not to press the matter until the falcon's wing was properly set. Numair located what supplies he could and handed them over to Daine. With the gentle hands of a natural, she laid the falcon down on the table and spread its wing, careful not to strain the broken bones too much or pinch any feathers. She took the gauze Numair had brought and slipped it in diagonals around the feathers and bone. Every now and then, the falcon would screech in pain, and Daine would bend and whisper gentle words to calm him. It was astonishing, how easily she handled the animal, talking to him as if he were any other human. Numair smiled widely when she was finished, the bird's wing bound firmly to his body so that he couldn't move it and injure it further before it finished healing. Daine lifted the falcon on her arm again, wearing an extra shirt around her wrist so the talons didn't hurt her. One of his old shirts, Numair noticed bemusedly.

"There," Daine said soothingly, brushing a finger across the top of the falcon's head. "That wasn't so bad, now, was it?"

"He looks happier already," Numair agreed. Daine nodded, and Numair noticed that she, too, looked far more cheerful than she had before. He walked over and held a cautious hand out to the falcon, looking up questioningly at Daine before moving any closer. Daine nodded. Numair ran his fingers over the falcon's smooth feathers, surprised at their softness.

"I had already washed him up a little before I came in," explained Daine. "He wouldn't feel so pretty if I hadn't. Careful, don't touch the underside of his neck."

Numair yanked his fingers back as the falcon snapped at him. "Thanks for the warning," he said dryly, but Daine just laughed and patted the bird.

"See, you two are kicking it off already. Please, Numair – you have to let him stay until he'll better. You let Twig stay."

Twig, the little sparrow still on the counter, hopped up and down on one leg as if to confirm Daine's statement. Numair sighed and attempted to explain. "A sparrow is completely different than a falcon, Daine. How could we give it the care it needs? Falcons are protected as a threatened species. It's illegal to be found holding one."

"It's a he, for one thing. You and your issues with illegal things. It's really annoying, you know."

"I'm sorry if my inclination to obey laws bothers you," Numair said shortly. Daine glared at him, and he threw up his hands again, relenting. "Look, I just don't want to end up with cops at our door, all right?"

For a moment, she didn't respond. Then she broke eye contact, glanced out the window, and then at the floor. Her shoulders slumped, and the falcon let out a soft cry. "Fine," Daine said, her tone flat. She sighed resignedly and looked back up. "You're right. I'll call that shelter that's for threatened and endangered species."

Numair blinked. She never gave in that easily. "Daine – are you sure?"

"Yeah, of course I'm sure," she said shortly. But Numair wasn't fooled – there was something else she wasn't telling him. He could see it in her eyes.

"Daine," he began slowly, "what's the matter? What made you change your mind so fast?"

"Cops," she muttered without looking at him. "I hate cops. Policemen, law enforcement officials, anyone like that."

"Because... of your home?" Numair asked carefully.

"Not just that. That's part of it, though."

"What's the other part?"

"I hate seeing cops. I hate the way they look at you," she said at last. "When you're with me, I mean. It's like they think you're some stalker, or one of those damn perverts they tell little kids about in sex-ed movies. It's stupid. We've passed them in town before and they always look at you like that."

Numair blinked. "That – that bothers you?"

"More than anything. It's people who don't know anything about you making wrong assumptions, and they're too close-minded to think they might possibly be making a mistake," she spat, glaring at the ground. After a moment, she sighed, shifting the falcon so it rested more comfortably in her arms. "I'm ranting. I'll call the shelter."

"Daine, wait," Numair said suddenly. "I've changed my mind. We can keep the falcon, if you want."

"What?"

"I know you can take of it. And we'll just take our chances on the police."

"Him, not it," said Daine, frowning at Numair. "But, Numair, I just said - "

Numair placed a hand over her lips and smiled. He stepped close to her, careful to still give the falcon and its claws plenty of breathing room. But he held Daine's face in his hands and looked right into her eyes, serious now. "You, my dear, are the most amazing woman any man could ever dream of having. Cops annoy you – because you want to defend me. If you feel that angry – on my behalf – what right do I have to deny you this? If you want to keep the falcon, you can. If the cops come and start glaring at me, you can happily kiss me right in front of them and then laugh at the looks on their faces."

Daine stared. Her expression changed, but slowly – the stubborn anger melting smoothly into grateful amusement. A smile twitched at the corner of her lips. "Thanks, Numair," she said grudgingly. She raised herself on her tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, prevented from doing more by the extraordinarily patient bird still cradled in her arms.

"You're very welcome," called Numair as Daine walked away to put the falcon in a soft pallet-like nest thing that she'd set up on the table. Most of its contents were, again, Numair's old shirts. When she'd made sure the bird was comfortable and getting ready for a nap, Daine walked back to Numair and tugged on his shirt, a gleam in her eyes.

"I should probably get over my annoyance with the cops," she said thoughtfully. "It's not like they can arrest us. You, I mean. Other than for keeping the falcon. That can be my fault, but you - you're not a bad person. They've got nothing against you."

"Not a bad person?" Numair pulled Daine close to him, his hands settling around her waist. He titled his head so that their noses barely touched; just a sliver of space remained between them for air to pass through. "I honor you for your faith in me. I can be bad, you know."

"Really?"

"Very, very bad. If you want me to be."

Daine grinned against his lips. "Good," she whispered. "Being bad is good every once in a while, after all."