A/N I know that it's been a while, and I'm sorry for that. I know that this post sucks, and I'm sorry for that too. I would've had this up sooner, but I couldn't get logged in. The next chapter is the last chapter of this story, so please stick around until then. And of course, please review if you do read. Enjoy!

"Marissa, it's time to wake up…"

Marissa shook her head and refused to open her eyes. If there was one thing she loved, it was her sleep. She heard a soft laugh and then felt extremely soft lips on her neck. "Come on, time to get up…" He murmured against her skin, making her completely melt into his embrace. Ryan continued to lightly kiss her neck, and then started to slightly nibble, causing a low moan to emanate from her throat. His hands ran along her side and up to her chest, taking one of her breasts into his hands. She let out another long moan and he turned her face so that he could lean in and kiss those luscious lips of hers. After giving her a kiss leaving her wanting more, he pulled away and said, "Now that you're up – I have a surprise for you."

She slowly opened her eyes and stared into his own amazing blue ones. "What surprise would that be?" She asked with a flirtatious smile on her face.

He shook his head and laughed. "Nothing like that." She gave a playful pout and he leaned in to peck her lips quickly. "I made breakfast," he announced after a minute.

She raised her eyebrows and he turned to reach for something on the nightstand, then pulled a plate with bacon, eggs, and toast and handed it to her. She grinned and said, "Great sex and breakfast in bed – I think I must be dreaming."

He just smiled and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "If you're dreaming, I don't want you to ever wake up."

She ate her food and fed him some as well. They laughed and played around, and when she was done he went to put the plate back in the kitchen while she used the restroom. When he returned she was back in bed waiting for him, so he smiled and climbed in next to her. He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned into his embrace, softly kissing his lips. After a few minutes of light kissing, she pulled away and searched his eyes. "I want you to know that I don't do this a lot – or ever."

"What? Show up on some guy's door and tell him you love him, or sleep with him afterwards?" he joked, but stared into her eyes with a very serious expression.

"Both," she admitted softly. She was quiet for a moment before saying, "I hadn't done that in a long time."

He leaned in and kissed her. "Good." He pulled back and then said, "So I called in sick today. When's your first appointment?"

She sighed and said, "At three."

"When's your last?"

"Eight. I should be done at nine."

He nodded and said, "That sounds like a plan. I have some work I need to catch up on, especially if I'm going to be hanging out with you all day."

"What makes you think I want to spend the whole day with you?" She teased.

He rolled his eyes and said, "You know you can't resist me and my charm."

She laughed and kissed his chest. "I love you," she said with a smile.

He nodded and kissed her hard on the lips. "I love you too."

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The next week was spent sneaking around. Summer knew about their relationship of course, but Marissa was afraid to let the people in the office know. She'd clearly broken her ethics by having sex with and falling in love with Ryan, and even though she didn't necessarily regret it, she wasn't ready for the whole world to know how badly she'd messed up. And she had, even if she liked to tell herself she hadn't.

But for the most part they spent the next week in a state of bliss. Switching back and forth between their homes every night, they spent all of their free time together. Nights were spent doing a variety of things: taking a walk, watching a movie indoors, going out to eat, attempting to make dinner for themselves. They were really happy together, something that both of them had wanted for a long time.

One night Ryan found that he was watching some chick-flick for the third time that week. He wrapped his arms around Marissa and breathed in her sweet vanilla scent. She leaned into him and he rested his hands on her hips, his fingertips playing with the skin right under her shirt. Soon she found that his lips were on her neck and his fingers were inching their way up under her shirt. "Come on, I really like this movie," she weakly protested as he started to suck on her weak spot.

"We've already seen it," he reminded her, and continued his assault on her body. Not that she really minded all that much. There were worse things than having Ryan Atwood's hands and lips caressing your body…

One night they decided to talk about their future together. Both were naked in Ryan's bed yet again, and Marissa's fingers were making circles on his chest as he gently ran his index finger up and down her back, causing goose bumps to flare at his touch. Marissa suddenly looked at him and asked, "Big or small family?"

He pondered this for a second before saying, "Um, small I guess…"

"More boys or more girls?" She asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

"Well, as long as they're healthy, I don't really care," he replied honestly with a shrug.

"Hmm, public or private school?" She asked after a minute.

He had to think about this one. "Well, they both have their benefits. Private school is more serious I guess, but I don't want my kids to grow up to be snobs like most people in Newport." He thought of Oliver Trask and shuddered.

Marissa picked up on this. "Hey, what's wrong?"

He sighed and said, "It's nothing."

She rolled her eyes and perched herself up on her elbow so that she could look into his eyes more easily. She stared at him for a moment, and when he didn't add anything else onto his short statement, she sighed herself and said, "Ryan, you seem to forget that not only am I your girlfriend, but I used to be your therapist. I know when you're lying. You start to tense up and you won't look me in the eye." She put a hand on the side of his face and turned it so that he was forced to stare into her eyes. She lowered her voice and softly asked, "Now are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

He sighed once again and said, "Thinking about private school makes me think about what jerks guys were when it came to Oliver. It makes me wonder if when I have a kid someday, if they'll be the jerk, or the victim."

"What if they're somewhere in between?" She asked softly, resting her head on his chest again.

He slightly shrugged. "Is that even possible?"

"I like to think so."

He looked down at her and smiled slightly. "What sparked all these questions?"

She blushed slightly and said, "You're going to think I'm weird."

"I already think you're weird, so you can tell me," He joked, earning him a playful slap on the chest.

"That so wasn't funny, but I'll tell you anyways," she said with a small smile. She turned so that she was looking up at his ceiling fan and said, "I don't know what really made me want to ask them. It's just something to wonder about, you know?"

He nodded and said, "Yeah, they're pretty important to think about. What about you? You never told me what you wanted in a family."

She smiled and turned to him. "That's because we want pretty much the same things, except I want one boy and one girl for absolute sure."

"A boy and a girl, huh?" he asked with a smile.

She nodded and sheepishly said, "I've always dreamed of it."

"Well thank you for sharing your dreams with me," he said softly, leaning in to kiss her gently on the lips.

She continued the kiss, and then pulled back and let out a content sigh. "I'm happy," she suddenly blurted out. "Really and truly happy. And I'm never happy…"

"How come?" he asked curiously.

"How come what? That I'm happy, or because I'm never usually happy?"

He thought about it and then replied, "Both, I guess."

She shrugged and said, "I'm usually not happy because I'm always so worried about people. I know that I shouldn't be, that I'm supposed to leave my work at work, but I wonder about my people sometimes. Like that one girl that killed herself…sometimes I try to think of ways I can help people get back on track. Believe it or not, worrying about other people and trying to take care of them can take a real toll on somebody." She gave a weak smile and then said, "But I'm happy now because of you, or rather us. Together."

He smiled and said, "I'm happy too." He leaned in and pecked her lips again. "Do you think we'll ever get tired of this?" he asked, running his hands up to her breasts.

"Mmm, I hope not," she murmured, letting out a small moan, losing herself to the wonder that is Ryan Atwood's hands.

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She should've known that something would happen. She was never this happy, and though it had stuck in the back of her mind there were consequences she had to pay for loving Ryan, she hadn't really given it much thought.

One day she was at work going over the file of a schizophrenic male when she heard a knock at the door. "Come in," she called out, not tearing her eyes from the file until she heard a familiar voice.

"So I keep having this dream, and I was hoping you could tell me what it means," she heard Ryan say, a smile in his voice.

She looked up and offered a broad smile. "Okay, what's this dream?" she asked with a raise of her eyebrows.

"I believe we need to sit down as we would in a session," he said, feigning seriousness as he sat down on the couch and crossed one leg over the other.

She rolled her eyes and gave a small laugh, walking over to her chair and sitting down in it. "Okay, now, tell me about this dream of yours."

"Well, I'm here on this couch and talking to you," he began, trying to keep a straight face. "And then suddenly you come over to me and sit down on my lap…"

"Oh do I now?" She asked with a raise of one eyebrow.

He nodded enthusiastically and said, "Yes, you do. Anyways, so you sit on my lap and then suddenly you just start to talk about all this stuff with the mind that I don't understand, but I start to get really, uh, excited…cause your hands are moving down my body…"

She bit her bottom lip and walked over to him, taking a seat on his lap. She started to mess with the top button on his shirt and asked, "Like this?"

"Well, yeah, kind of, but you start to kiss me…"

She leaned in and pressed her warm lips on his neck, lightly nipping the skin. "Go on…"

"Well, I think you can guess the rest. What does the dream mean?"

She giggled a little and moved her lips to his mouth. "I think it means you are a very horny man, Mr. Atwood."

He laughed and kissed her back, leaning her down on the couch. "That may be so, but I am your horny man, Ms. Cooper."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," she joked, undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt and untucking it from his pants. He started to run his hands up under her shirt and his lips down to her neck. She moaned a little, encouraging him to continue.

Suddenly she heard another knock on the door and quickly pushed Ryan off of her. Suddenly Detective Harper walked in and -taking one glance at her slightly wild hair, frazzled eyes, and Ryan's unbuttoned shirt and obvious arousal- decided that things had gone too far. "Mr. Atwood," he said, giving Ryan a disapproving look, but avoiding Marissa's eyes.

"Um, I was just going to go, so uh, I'll um, see you later?" Ryan asked Marissa, although he realized he probably should've just left.

She nodded and avoided his gaze, feeling like she'd been caught making out by her mother. "Okay."

When Ryan was gone, she stood and smoothed her shirt down, then ran a hand through her hair, hoping it wasn't too bad. She looked at the detective who was staring at her with disappointed eyes. She was officially caught. "I'm sorry for just walking in…" he offered.

"It's fine. I've never given you a reason to need to wait before. It is my lunch hour…" she said quietly, avoiding his gaze.

He nodded and said, "Yeah. " It was silent for another minute before he said, "I thought you weren't supposed to do that…"

"Do what?" She asked, finally looking into his eyes.

"Get involved," he said, giving her a hard look. When she didn't say anything, just looked at him guiltily, he said, "I told you from the very beginning you were too involved. "

"I don't remember that."

"Obviously not," he retorted.

"Well it's not like it's your business anyways," she said defensively. "What I do with my life is my business. You're not even a psychiatrist!"

He rolled his eyes and said, "You're right, I'm not a psychiatrist, and it probably isn't my business, but the thing is that our jobs are sometimes closely related. I have a messed up guy that I find, and I bring them to you. Simple as that. But you're obviously not to be trusted."

"Those rules aren't really that serious. I mean, sure, I said I would remain ethical and not get involved, but that doesn't mean I can't be trusted…" She protested.

"As far as I'm concerned it does," the detective said with a long sigh, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger. "Look, how do you expect people to take you seriously when you're off screwing your ex-client? People are going to start talking, especially in this town."

"I'm not off screwing him, it's more than that. I love him," she said angrily. "And you have no right to barge in here and accuse me of being a slut!"

He rolled his eyes and said, "Look, I'm just telling you how it is. You wanted to get with that guy, and now you did, so get ready to own up to your mistakes." He turned to leave, and when he was at the door he turned back and ended by saying, "Oh, and by the way, I came to see if you would take on a case for me. This boy was found abandoned and all alone. He won't sleep or eat, and the lady at the orphanage keeps telling me that there's no one that can get through to him or help. They've brought in specialist after specialist, but nothing seems to work. "He gave a bitter laugh and said, "I thought about you immediately, but now I have to wonder if you're going to go 'fall in love' with him too."

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She spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about what the detective had said. Sure he'd been out of line, but what he said was true, and that's what annoyed her the most. How could she have been so utterly stupid and fall in love with Ryan? She'd been told numerous times by a bunch of people, she'd read the ethics books, she'd agreed to it all – and yet here she was now.

Ryan came to pick her up from work and immediately picked up on her rather somber mood. "That bad?" he asked quietly, leaning over to peck her lips.

She nodded and sighed. "I basically got called a slut. He questioned my credibility."

"Well, screw him," He said with a smile. "You shouldn't let him get you down. Besides, he's just a detective, what does he know?"

"He's more like a psychiatrist than you think. We're both supposed to analyze people, the only difference is that he does it to see when people intentionally lie, and I do it to make people see the lies they tell themselves," she said with a sigh, leaning her head back on the seat. "My career is ruined."

Ryan started to drive back to his house. "Hey, you can't be that pessimistic. "

"It's true though," she softly said. "And I only brought it upon myself."

"Don't talk that way," he said, reaching over to take her hand, lacing their fingers together. "It's going to be okay, alright? We'll make it through together."

She just nodded and looked out the window, seeing the world in an entirely new, more depressing, light.

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That night they went to the movie theater together and saw some movie that she couldn't really remember afterwards. Throughout the whole thing she just thought about her current problem and a way she could solve it. After a while a plan started to form in her mind, and even though she knew it would be hard and painful, she could see it as her only real choice.

They ate dinner at a nice and cozy little restaurant. He ordered a large bowl of spaghetti and she ordered some lasagna. They shared a bottle of wine and she requested that they eat outside since it was such a beautiful night, so they sat there with their faces illuminated by the moon, stars, and flicker of light from the burning candle in the middle of their table. She held his hands and looked into his eyes, watching the way they lit up when he talked. She let him do most of the talking, just wanting to hear his sweet voice, trying to savor every word he spoke, every time his lips moved, every smile or small hand gesture he'd make.

That night when they got back to his house she pulled him down on the first available soft surface she saw, which happened to be his couch, and they made love on it over and over again. She was never able to get enough of him, even after he got tired and drifted off to sleep, she still stayed and stared at him, memorizing every feature of his so that she could bring it back and use it when she thought about him. She'd always remember his sandy blonde hair tousled and looking completely adorable yet sexy after they finished their latest round of sexual endeavors. She'd always remember the way his eyes looked right before he entered her, and the way they looked right as he pulled out. She'd make a point of locking it away and never forgetting, no matter how many days or months or years went by.

And it was that night that Marissa Cooper stood, got dressed, kissed Ryan's cheek for the last time, and then after only leaving a note, said goodbye.

Dear Ryan,

I know you don't agree with me, but there's no way you can possibly understand what I'm going through. Ever since my dad and sister died, I've felt the need to try to save someone in respect to them. Being a psychiatrist is the only thing I've ever really wanted to do, and I can't stand the thought of having to give that up. I'm sorry, but it's a big chunk of my life, and I can't just ignore it.

I never should've fallen in love with you, but I don't really regret it. This past week with you has been amazing, more amazing than any other week in my life. It makes me wish that I didn't have t do this, that I could have both you and my job, but I know that if I have one, the other won't get as much attention. There's a rule in the books that says a therapist can't have sexual encounters with their client until at least two years has gone by and they've done a thorough evaluation of the affect it would have on the client. Being with you would be selfish of me, Ryan. Asking you to wait for two years would be extremely selfish, and I can't do it. Besides, I think that my reasons for wanting to be with you are more based around what I want and what I need than what you do. You need someone that's always there for you, that can love you in a way that I can't right now.

But I really, truly, completely love you. Never doubt that, because it's true.

Please don't come looking for me. I don' t even know where I'm going just yet.

Goodbye.

Marissa