Disclaimer: I don't own anything here (except for Al) and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.

On Wednesday night, Tim drank several glasses of water and went to bed before sunrise for the first time since he arrived at South Padre. As a result, he woke up before noon on Thursday, feeling more clear-headed than he had in days. He was even able to get some breakfast in the motel's diner, which was his first hot meal in a week.

Energized by a hearty breakfast of pancakes and the good weather, he took George for a long walk on the beach. The waves were working their magic on his mind and he was able to just be for a while, without thinking about anything much at all.

Tim was looking out across the water when he suddenly felt George leap forward and grab a bright blue Frisbee off the sand. A small tan and white dog danced in front of them, yipping and yapping, clearly upset that his Frisbee had been stolen. Tim had to smile – the Frisbee was nearly bigger than the other dog after all.

He could hear a voice calling for the dog and a woman scrambled over a sand dune and slid down the other side.

"Boomer! Come here, Boomer."

The dog snarled one last time and then trotted over to the woman, who was rapidly making her way toward Tim. She had short, spiky red hair and was wearing some kind of loose, flowing dress thing. Sort of like a hippie, Tim thought. She walked up to him and smiled, her hand held out in greeting.

"Hi, I'm Megan."

"Tim." He shook her hand, nearly squeezing too hard out of habit, but he caught himself just in time.

"Why don't you let your dog off the leash so he can run around with Boomer?"

Tim hesitated. "We've just started obedience school – his recall isn't great, to be honest with you."

"He'll be fine – he'll be so busy chasing Boomer that when I call Boomer in, he'll be right behind."

Tim still looked skeptical.

"C'mon. I've been throwing that damn Frisbee for ages. I need a break." Her smile was warm and inviting.

He crouched down and unclipped the leash, then watched George race off after the little dog.

Megan sat down in the sand, her knees up so she could rest her elbows on them. Tim followed suit, watching in amusement as the dogs frolicked near the water's edge.

"So, how long you been here?" asked Megan.

"What's today?"

"Uh-oh, if you don't know what day it is, then you've been here too long."

Tim grinned. "They all just run together."

"This is a vacation for you then?"

He shrugged. "Something like that. I just needed some time away. How about you?"

"Been here two weeks, got a job at one of the hotels. Going to be here for the whole summer."

"You live in the hotel then?"

"God no. I'm staying at the campground. Got an Airstream – not much space, but it's all mine."

Tim nodded and looked away from her. He was finding that talking to her was easy. This was the longest conversation he'd had in a week.

"Hey, if you don't have any plans, you want to come over for dinner tonight?" Her smile lit up her whole face and Tim felt his breath catch in his throat. He'd always been a sucker for beautiful, genuine smiles.

"Yeah, that sounds nice." He turned his head and looked at her through his hair, which the strong Gulf breeze was blowing into his face.

The dogs returned, racing up the beach. George flopped down in front of Megan for belly scratches.

"He's a great dog," said Megan. "Young Irish Wolfhound, right?"

"Yeah. How'd you know? Most people think he's some sort of fully-grown mix."

"My brother had one years ago. This guy must be what, about a year old?"

"No, he's only about 7 months."

She whistled. "He is going to be enormous. Where'd you get him?"

"He was a Christmas present."

"Wow," said Megan with a grin. "Someone must really love you."

Tim looked down. His shoulders hunched as he realized why he was so comfortable with Megan. She had the same easy-going, joking manner as Al.

"Shit." Megan drew the word out into two syllables. "You're taken, aren't you?"

He nodded and looked up. The way she was still leaning toward him, her gaze tracking to his mouth, made him think that his being taken probably wasn't a deal-breaker for her.

"You know, about dinner, now that I think about it...." Tim stumbled over the words, trying but failing to find a graceful way to back out. He let the sentence hang unfinished in the air.

She sighed and stood up. "Look, Isla Blanca, site C171. Blue pickup with an Airstream. Say, 7 or 8, if you change your mind. And you can bring your dog."

Tim laid down in the sand and just stared at the sky for awhile, then returned with George to his room. He picked up his phone and tried to write a text message to Al.

"Al, Just wanted to let you know that I..."

What, though? What was he? How did he finish that statement?

...am still alive...but so drunk most of the time that I can barely feel it.


...am so sorry...for leaving because I miss you so much I can't breathe.

....haven't cheated on you....yet.

In the end, he canceled out of the message, put his phone back on the table, and turned the television back on. He looked up at the clock when his stomach rumbled around eight o'clock and thought of Megan's offer. Then he opened another beer and changed the channel.