Smiling to herself, as the sunshine began to fill the front parlor at Gull Cottage, Carolyn stretched out her hands before tackling another dauntingly blank piece of paper. Throughout the morning, ideas for a new story proved elusive, mainly due to the way her mind kept returning to the lovely events of the previous evening, once the criminals who had broken into their home were roughly escorted back to jail.
She had not entirely understood the full meaning of his response after she had agreed her need for independence did not require the Captain to always 'stand aside'. In fact, as she recalled the moment when she looked up at him, saying, "If you ever again feel the need to help, please be my guest." She hadn't realized that the 'help' he had in mind was so personal, so very, so completely. . . "satisfying" she whispered aloud.
Looking down she rolled her eyes, seeing the overlapping hearts she had doodled on the page of the notebook on her lap. "This is never going to pay the rent," she muttered wadding the page up into a ball and tossing it near the wastepaper bin, "wish there was a way to put my real life adventures into print, now THAT would be a story that would sell, but even Feminine View might reject it as too 'racy', she grinned to herself.
Rolling another piece of paper into the typewriter again, she gasped feeling his invisible hand on her shoulder, and a long nuzzling kiss along her neck. "If it's racy you have in mind, my dear," she heard him whisper, "perhaps. . ." Startled as Martha opened the front door, she turned quickly and felt the Captain disappear at the same time. Shaking her head, she thought how much she preferred, or rather they both preferred their changing relationship as equals, sharing challenges and moments of happy teasing. "As well as other interesting activities," she muttered while beginning to type again, Sighing, she rejected the page, wadded it up and smiled as Scruffy grabbed it to add it to the growing pile in the wastebasket.