As my cold continued, along with this new writing experience, it struck me that through certain scenes these two characters were not only finally exploring each other, but beginning to bring their love into other areas of their home. In this way they could provide more sacred memories in order to heal the past. Association with bad experiences tend to keep most people away from almost anything: songs, certain individuals, choice of media, and certainly places.

How Barnabas and Josette could embody their home with the love it required was to create new and better experiences, however intimate, into these zones. Couples do get a bit of thrill passing by certain areas they've made love in, not just the bedroom, of course. That's when I realised there was one place that needed to be cleansed in this way beyond all others. So, I would deeply appreciate some feed back on this chapter. Very curious if it's hit that mark. I find it quite profound.

I do re-read this one and felt it was important... and of course, she would *have* to dare him to do it. ;)

Chapter _: A Very Warm Night On Widows Hill

Tony Peterson and Carolyn Stoddard had been relaxing late one evening on a bench near Widow's Hill. As one can imagine, the romantic tragedy of that place can bring a kind of terror that sparks certain yearnings to those in love. Of course, they settled in from holding hands, to making out, to certain second-base activities… until… Mr. Peterson's eyes wandered toward the cliff and noticed movement, like two animals wrestling twenty feet from the edge.

"What is it, Tony?" Carolyn asked, almost out of breath, "what's stopping you?"

"I—think…" he raised himself back to sitting position and adjusted the lapels on his somewhat ruffled coat, "… there… is… someone over there…"

Carolyn sat up in turn and gasped at the sight. "Hmm, that's rather far away from where we're sitting… but, even under blankets… I think I know who…" Her voice trailed off in uncertain dismay.

"Meeee too," Tony Peterson responded, "and I'm not… sure… we… should… be…"

"Watching them?" Carolyn said, beginning to smile, "well, it won't cool us off to do so, that's for sure!"

"I, well," Tony uttered, "haven't they been married for a while now? You'd think the honeymoon age would have tempered down at this point."

"Not with those two," Carolyn started to giggle, "They've been waiting QUITE a while, so I've gathered."

Tony looked to Carolyn and shared her amusement, "Carolyn Stoddard. You certainly are sounding mischievous right now. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Likely," she answered, "but let's just think it. Besides, I'm sure they'd hear us creeping up if we were to play such a prank. AND I don't have a whoopee cushion stashed away in my pocket, do you?"

"They must be out here for more than it being a warm night. Best leave them to it."

And, of course, Tony Peterson was correct.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

The evening had started, much the same as most. David's studies had long concluded, and dining had commenced. Drinks before the fire at Collinwood had gathered a few of us to talk of old times… some bad memories, but more good ones that had been happening, which was such a comfort.

Barnabas and I slowly roamed back home to The Old House, and we caught a glimpse of Willie Loomis walking hand in hand with his sweetheart through the woods. They were so fetching, and clearing the air of those places that had been plagued with sacrilege and savage deeds. His final understanding of love, I thought, watching the two walking through the brush and trees was an amazing accomplishment I could only put to him.

"Well," said my Mr. Collins, "that is a sight. It's very warm tonight, indeed. Good to see him calming down."

"Or rather," I added, "getting worked up?"

We continued into the house, and sitting on the davenport, I expected us to simply hold close, and I to rest my head upon his shoulder. It started out that way, and he stroked my head. But something in that first kiss, when I turned to face him, lit a thrill of adventure and the next thing I knew, it had turned passionate. I wrapped my arms around his neck and shoulders as we went on and felt his hands massage the top most sides of my ribs just below my arms. It only made matters worse as I thought mad things.

"Somewhere else needs to be cleansed," I breathed as our lips parted.

"Where, my dearest?"

"Would you allow me my choice?"

"Anything, anything at all for you," he answered, stroking my face and hair.

"A bad place, a tragic edge by the sea," I said.

He seemed to stop breathing as he stared at me. An indefinable look crossed his face, "Maggie Evans," he finally said, "You can't mean that."

"Why not," I said, staring him down, "we've already kissed there."

His hands rested on my shoulders and he brought his chin in, looking up at me, "I don't want to disappoint you… but I don't exactly share your enthusiasm for it. Besides, it's dangerous."

"For us as we are now?" I asked, lowly.

"That's a lot to ask," he answered, just as low.

"You forget, mon démon, I'm the one who's asking. And it's a lot for me to brave asking."

"You've always been brave, my dearest."

"And you haven't?" I kissed him, tenderly.

"One doesn't wish to boast," he sighed with a smile.

I took his head in my hands, resting two fingers around both of his ears, "I dare you, Barnabas Collins. I dare you to make love with me on Widow's Hill."

To this, I saw a blink, with some sparkle of anticipation. Then he threw a fervent kiss into me as his answer.

.*.*.*.*.*.*