The next day, as the clock struck noon, we all gathered outside for the Chicken match. The Count and Gavin were to climb as high as they could up the main mast...and I was terrified for both of them. I had thought long and hard about Gavin's statement from the night before. 'You forgive me in your own time.' He was willing to wait, and that made me not want to prolong the rift in our relationship. However, I couldn't, in good conscience, just forgive him on the spot. Not after what he'd done. So, I would side with the Count during this ordeal, and I would beg God for the safety of them both.

Dave equipped a bull horn to announce the event. He said, "Alright! Whoever climbs furthest is the victor! May the best man win, and the biggest chicken lose!" I had decided to stand rather alone so that no one would hear if I happened to let out a tiny cheer for Gavin as well as the Count. "Are we ready? Then let the ascent commence!"

"Come on, Count!" a few of the others called.

The climbing went without incident for quite a while. Then, when they were probably about 200 feet or more off the deck, the Count slipped and nearly fell. He hung on with sheer upper body strength. "Gavin, don't let him fall!" I cried.

"Help him!" Carl roared.

Gavin stopped and waited for the Count to regain his footing. They appeared to have a conversation, then they started climbing again. "What are they doing?" Harold exclaimed nervously.

"You're idiots!" I yelled up at them, hoping they heard. "This is stupid!"

Even Dave got on the bull horn and said, "You guys, don't be stupid! Enough is enough! You've proved your point!"

"Quentin, do something!" I said.

Quentin just shrugged at me and replied, "All he did was have sex with someone's wife...sorry, Simon. Nothing personal." Simon and I both glared at him.

"If you fall, you will die!" Dave continued. "Oh my god."

By this point, Gavin and the Count had both reached the highest point possible on the mast. Both of them paused, took a breather, and then slowly, both of their heads turned to look at their respective beams. Then, much to our horror, they started making their way out to the very tips. "GET AWAY FROM THE EDGE, YOU SILLY BASTARDS! THIS IS MADNESS!" I shouted.

"The one who stops climbing is the winner!" Angus said.

They got out to the edge, and suddenly, their shouted conversation could be heard. "What do you say now?" the Count asked.

"I say, I know a chicken when I see one, and I'm looking at one right now!" Gavin answered.

"That didn't help the situation!" I cried.

"Adios, amigo!" Gavin called before promptly jumping off.

"GAVIN!" I shrieked. He hit the water and we all ran to his side of the boat.

"Man overboard!" Angus said.

"Is he alright?" Felicity asked.

From above, the Count could be heard complaining, "I don't even like Simon! Cry baby! CRY BABY!" Then, he too jumped off with a yell of, "TUTTI FRUITY!"

I screamed and covered my face with my hands. They were both dead. I was sure of it. Then, I heard Gavin's groans as he was yanked back on board, and the Count's gasps from out in the water. I couldn't make up my mind who to go to, so I stayed put. Finally, when they were both hauled back on the ship, we assessed the damage. Gavin had a broken leg, and the Count had broken his arm and two fingers. Dave, who, ironically, actually proved himself somewhat useful as a doctor, managed to set the bones. Felicity was getting the Count's arm in a sling and I asked her if I could help in any way. "Yeah, go wrap Gavin's leg up. Make sure it's tight, ok?"

"Yeah...alright." I took the wrap from her, and moved to where Gavin sat with his leg propped up.

"You here to be my nurse?" he asked playfully.

I smiled a little. "Yeah. Pull your pant leg up." He did so, and I sat down to work. As I gently wrapped the stuff around his leg from his knee down, I said, "You're an idiot. You know?"

He smiled. "I know. Was that you screaming my name like a girl?"

"Yeah," I chuckled. "Unfortunate part of being a girl, when you scream in terror you tend to sound like one."

"Were you really terrified?"

"I was. I thought you were dead. Both of you."

"Naw. Not me. I'm gonna live forever."

"Cocky son of a bitch, aren't you?"

"I've never known a better one." We fell silent for a little while, and as I neared his ankle, he asked, "Have you forgiven me yet?"

I paused, unsure of what to do or say. "I'm getting there," I eventually replied.

"I really am sorry, Chelsea. It was stupid of me."

"You don't have to tell me twice. I'm just concerned about how Simon will feel. I don't want to forgive you too quickly. For his sake."

"I get it. I do."

"Good. So, are you and Count going to make up over the radio?"

"I think that's the plan. Your lordship?"

"What?" Count answered.

"The lady wants to know if we're going to call truce on the radio."

"I believe so...if you're up to it."

"Oh, I'm up to it." They shared a smile, and I could almost feel myself getting put back together a little. No longer would I be torn every which way imaginable.

Once they were bandaged up, we got them down to the studios to do their bit. Simon and I sat in the outer room, doing inventory on the records. The Count began it. "Ladies and gentlemen of Great Britain, Abraham Lincoln once said it is the measure of a man when he can admit when he's wrong. And I have been catastrophically wrong." He looked over into the adjacent studio and gave Gavin a salute which Gavin returned before speaking.

"I would also like to take this opportunity to apologize to a dear friend of mine...Simon." He looked out to where we were sitting and did the kiss his fingertips thing again. I looked at him, then looked at Simon. With a small and almost reluctant smile, Simon nodded in acceptance. The smile that split my face was completely unavoidable. Gavin smiled too, and finished, "Finally, everything on board is going to be just...fine." He then started a record, gave the Count a nod, and turned to hobble out of the studio.

Simon got up to get some more records, and I took that moment to get Gavin's attention. I mouthed, "Thank you," and he gave me a smile and a nod. I smiled back as he left.

Simon came back and read off the title of the record so I could make sure it was on the list. As I scribbled it down, he said, "It's alright."

"What you talking about?"

"It's fine that you forgave Gavin so quickly. You obviously can't stay mad at him. Hell, I can't even stay mad at him..and I'm not head over heels in love with him."

I froze, but quickly recovered. "What are you going on about?"

"You know full well what I'm going on about. Gavin doesn't know you well enough to see the way you look at him. The way you talk to him. I'm your best friend, Chels. I know these things."

I shook my head. "You've only known me about three more months than he has."

"It was long enough. I'm telling you. Maybe you haven't even realized it yet, but when you do, I'm going to say I told you so."

"I am not in love with Gavin Cavanaugh! I don't even know what love is really."

"Love is whatever you feel when you look at Gavin."

"Just shut up and read off the next record. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Just because my wife left me after 17 hours, it doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about when it comes to relationships."

I winced. "Simon, that's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant. I'm just saying, you're in love with him. The sooner you realize that the better off you'll be."

I smiled and looked up at him. "Really?"

He returned the smile. "Absolutely."