Author's Note: You guys are the epitome of patience if you're still into this story. Thanks so much for the reviews and encouragement, they serve as a nice kick in the butt when I go completely remiss in my writing. I hope you guys enjoy this one… you definitely deserve it!

Haley had been prepared for a quiet evening at home to recuperate a little from the past few days, a time to recharge her batteries for the next round against Dan. Nathan, however, had a completely different idea in mind. They were finally alone and making progress, and he wanted to do something fun, something they'd remember no matter what ended up happening.

When he suggested that they get out of the house, she eyed him curiously but said she was up for it. She didn't ask what he was planning, and had the distinct impression that he wouldn't have told her even if she had. He had that look in his eyes—the one he'd had when he took her miniature golfing the first time, and when he'd surprised her with a weekend trip to the mountains, where he'd tried, rather unsuccessfully, to teach her how to ski. Haley experienced the familiar flutter in her stomach that always came with the realization that, whatever he was about to do and however it turned out, Nathan was doing it because he thought she'd enjoy it. Because he cared, and she mattered.

It was enough to make her grin as she went to their bedroom to get her shoes and a sweater.

They didn't speak much in the car, but it was a comfortable, easy silence broken only by one of Haley's CDs providing quiet background noise. When Nathan reached over to take Haley's hand in his free one, she turned to give him a smile and gently squeezed back.

She was even more delighted when he pulled into the parking lot of the park that was a little more than ten minutes from their home. They'd spent many mornings there together since they bought the house, just walking around when it was still cool and empty. Now, in the late afternoon, there were a few people milling around, but it was close enough to deserted that it felt the same.

As he parked the car, Nathan sneaked a look over at his wife and was relieved to see the childish excitement on her face. "I think we've been serious adults enough for a while. We deserve some fun."

"I agree. This is awesome, Nathan." She was nearly bouncing on her feet as she got out of the car, and felt a little silly for being so pleased with a simple adventure. But it was special, she reasoned. It was important. "You brought food!" she exclaimed in surprise when he pulled their old, slightly scarred wicker picnic basket from the backseat.

"Of course I brought food," he replied with a grin. "What kind of picnic would it be if we didn't have food?"

"A pretty lame one," she admitted, laughing. "And I'd be pretty grumpy in about ten minutes, because I was too nervous to eat lunch and I'm starving."

He loved that she was honest enough to say that, and it put him more at ease. Thank God he hadn't been the only one going out of his mind before his parents finally left and gave them a chance to talk. "Then let's find the perfect spot and we can eat."

"Sounds good."

The perfect spot turned out to be not at one of the picnic tables and benches but underneath a large oak tree, where only a few feet away little purple flowers sprung up among the grass. Haley watched, impressed with his foresight, as Nathan pulled a large blanket out of the basket—one of her grandmother's quilts, but she wouldn't complain about that now—and spread it out on the ground.

They stretched out on the blanket, resting next to each other with their backs against the tree trunk, and started to take out the food. The lunch was obviously hastily thrown together, and consisted of pretty much anything Nathan had been able to toss into the basket while Haley had been putting on her shoes. He'd brought real silverware instead of the plastic ones she kept in the drawer, and since they lacked plates they ended up eating out of the containers she'd stored the leftovers in. Personally, she thought it was wonderful.

As she set down her water bottle, Haley glanced over at Nathan and smiled contently. "So what's new with you, anyway? It feels like it's been so long since we've had time to really talk."

He ran a hand up and down her arm, as if soothing away the words that, though true, were painful. "It does," he agreed. "I don't know. I mean, I've got a couple new accounts at—" He trailed off, uncomfortable with the topic that had hurt them so much. "I heard that Jim and Megan next door are fighting. From what Michael across the street says, he's thinking about asking her to leave."

"That's too bad, I hope they work it out." She paused, absently playing with the blanket, and then chuckled. "You are all such gossipy girls. I swear you gossip more than the women do on our block."

"Hey! I was just checking to see what was going on," he defended himself with a laugh.

"Sure you were." She smiled up at him playfully. "You don't have to do that, you know."

"Do what?"

"Not talk about work at all," she replied. "It's a big part of your life, what you do during the day. I want to know what's going on with you, and that's a part of it."

"But it's just… what it's done to us—"

She shook her head, effectively cutting him off. "We let it get out of control, Nathan, and that was our problem. Until we're old and retired or we win the lottery, work is going to be there. We don't have to pretend it doesn't exist, we just have to… be here more, with each other."

"Okay." Obviously still cautious, he began to tell her about his newest client. When she reacted with honest interest, he loosened up a little. They discussed the work he'd done recently, the problems he'd encountered and the way he'd handled them, and then her work—her stories, her ideas for future pieces. He didn't bother to tell her that he scanned the papers constantly to check for her work and had read every article of hers published. There were a few awkward moments, namely at the mention of either Cassandra or Randy, but it was still them, like the way they'd been before.

It wasn't perfect by any means, but it was a step in the right direction. Sitting there with him, Haley could remember why she'd fallen in love with him in the first place. He could be funny and insightful and sweet, and when he relaxed around someone and really let his walls down, he could make them feel nothing short of amazing. After being away from him so long—emotionally if not physically—it was a rush to feel that way again, a pleasant blast from the past.

There was a hint of nerves in her stomach, the reminder that maybe she was making a big mistake by opening herself to him again. She had her apartment and had started to move on. Trying now and failing would be a huge setback.

She didn't care. It was worth it.

Nathan had put himself on the line when he told her that he wanted to try rather than give up. Haley figured that maybe she, too, could take a little leap of faith. Grinning, she pulled herself up from the blanket and looked down at him expectantly. "Come on."

"What? Where are we going?" he asked in confusion. Still, he didn't protest as she grabbed his arm and helped haul him to his feet, nor did he argue when she lead him into the sand of the playground area.

Haley turned her head just enough to shoot him an irresistible grin. "We're going to be kids again."

True to her word, they went adventuring in the empty playground like children who'd been granted a brief reprieve from school. They tried to outdo each other on the swing set, a contest that Nathan clearly won, but Haley insisted it was only because he had a longer body. A quick trip on the see-saw had them roiling in laughter even though there wasn't much actual movement, and Haley almost split her sides laughing when Nathan almost got stuck on the little kids' slide.

After they had enough sand in their shoes, they went back to the blanket and sat down against the tree trunk, Nathan holding Haley to his chest from behind while they enjoyed the cool breeze. "This feels nice," she whispered, snuggling into the warmth he offered her.

It did, Nathan realized. It felt wonderful to be sitting here, with his wife curled against him. It felt right.

"Nathan?"

"Yeah?"

She looked up at him, her chin resting on his chest. "I missed you."

His smile was warm and boyish, the smile that always seemed to hover somewhere between shy and sexy. "I missed you too, Hales." When their lips met, it was a sweet kiss, a kiss of remembrance, as if they were learning the taste of each other all over again.

It was also a promise of something to come, something more.