A/N: LookingforNirvana broke my heart a little with the comment about 'giving up.' No friends! I haven't given up. (but the prodding did cause me to post what I had—so kudos!) Life is just busy, but the fun kind of busy. Plus it's hard to write now that the weather is warmer and I want to be outside in my free time. I'm not going to apologize for my glacially slow pace—you were warned ahead of time—but I will continue to thank all of you for patiently sticking with me. I'm so excited for all the new followers who have found this story and the loyal crew who has encouraged me so much thus far! Gracias and enjoy!
Mac and Dick pulled over for gas on their way out of town. Dick ran inside and got some drinks and some ice for the cooler.
Alone, Mac checked her phone. 5 minutes before, Logan sent her a text that read: 'If you're still with Dick, don't let him get drunk before dark. Rough morning.'
Mac's mind reeled. How did Logan know she left with Dick? That she would still be with Dick? What happened this morning that was important enough for Logan to pause his reunion with Veronica and warn me about Dick's drinking?
The floppy haired blond with a huge grin returned to the Jeep and began to load up a cooler. Mac saw a couple of beers first and gasped at Logan's prophecy. She was slightly mollified to see he also bought a few waters and sodas. When Dick looked up at her while pouring on the ice, he misread her quizzical look, he simply said, "No fridge," with a shrug.
She made a mental note to honor Logan's request, no matter how odd.
Fifteen minutes outside of Neptune, the Jeep slowed considerably and turned onto a gravel road alongside the Pacific Coast Highway. Mac, who had been reclining with her feet on the dash enjoying the scenery and the sun, sat upright. Once Dick turned onto the PCH, she knew it was 30 minutes until the next town so she settled in. Mac was too tired to care how far away Dick's grandfather's home was. If a pre-nap nap occurred, all the better.
Their abrupt and unplanned stop jostled Mac completely awake. She looked at Dick who was concentrating on navigating a narrow access road. A self-satisfied smirk was creeping along the corners of his mouth.
"Where are we?" she asked, her voice drowsy.
"At my grand-dad's," he said, as though this were an explanation. "Uh, find something to hold onto, Mackie."
Mac couldn't process any of this. Why had they turned onto access road toward the ocean? How were their even access roads on this side of the cliffs? Wasn't it just straight down-rocks, trees, then water?
The Jeep forcefully bounced along the narrow path that hugged the cliff. The road suddenly became more uneven with large dips and potholes. She instinctively grabbed the rail above her as well as the door, then realized Dick had tried to warn her about the rough road.
"You okay?" Dick asked her, not taking his eyes off the road.
"Yeah. Dick, what—"
He slowed down almost to a stop. "Hold on," he told her as he carefully took a hairpin turn and then began descending the cliff in the other direction.
Mac held her remaining questions in. Where ever they were going, Dick needed to concentrate. They took 3 more hairpin turns as the Jeep zig-zagged down the mountain. When they finally drove away from the highway on a gravelly drive beside the cliffs, Mac saw they were approaching a large gate on a flattened patch of land about halfway down from their entry point. A sign on the gate read "Private Property. No Trespassing." Dick stopped the Jeep about a foot away from the gate and turned off the engine. He took his keys out of the ignition and struggled to remember which one of them unlocked the gate . He hadn't been here in months. He hadn't needed to come until today. Dick laughed to himself when he realized Logan had been celibate as long as he'd been away from The Cliffs.
Once he had the gate opened, Dick thought about tossing the keys to Mac and asking her to drive the Jeep past him and he would lock it up behind her. Seeing Mac's confused, freshly awake state, he decided against it. Dick hopped in the Jeep, drove it a few feet, but left the engine running as he took off the gate key. He climbed out, closed the tall iron gate again, locked it, and then looked at Mac.
"You ready for this?" he asked with a smile.
"You drove me down a mountain and locked me in behind an iron gate, I seriously doubt it, Dick. But let's go."
As Dick drove on the scary make-shift one lane (but thankfully flat) road that followed the curve of the steep rock cliffs, Mac tried to envision what kind of secluded mansion was going to be beyond the next blind curve. As they rounded the corner, Mac looked around and saw nothing. She saw the expanse of relatively flat rock they were driving on amongst the rocky cliffs, but no house at all. Dick drove the Jeep to the center of the football field size of flat rock and parked the car.
"We're here," Dick said proudly.
Mac looked around to make sure she wasn't missing some home carved into the rock, some bat-cave entrance, anything except the rock wall to her right, the flat space they were standing on, and the rocky drop down to the ocean on her left.
"Your grand-dad's?" she asked contemptuously.
"He owned it. So, technically," he said simply.
"Dick, I want to apologize for anything mean I've ever said—or thought—about you."
He laughed as they both got out of the Jeep, "The heights scared you that much? Now you're clearing your conscience?"
"Nope. It seems as though you've brought me out to the middle of nowhere to kill me. I figured 'no time like the present' to try to get you to change your mind."
A chill went through Dick's spine. He looked at Mac and saw that she was giving him her trademark sarcastic smile, but something about hearing her say 'kill' after the story he heard from Logan about Cassidy that morning made him react involuntarily.
"No, you're safe for today, Mackie," he teased, pushing away those thoughts. Could she be scared of him? Hoping she was as at ease with him alone as she looked, he said, "We're just here to sleep."
"Uh, look around, Dick, I don't see a plethora of Sleep Numbers or Tempurpedics. You got a comfy nest in one of those caves?"
"Hey, I never promised any beds."
"You didn't?" she asked. "Well, you said it was your favorite place to sleep. So?"
"So, you just assumed I meant a house with beds. This is better. Follow me," Dick said as he lifted the cooler from the back of the Jeep and flashed Mac a big smile. He took the towels, the sweatshirt, and a tarp from the floor of the Jeep in his other hand and walked to the edge of the cliff facing the ocean.
She held out her hands to take the clothes, but he rolled his eyes like she was crazy.
Dick led her to the edge of the flat rock the Jeep was parked on to get a better view. Mac's knees turned to jello when she peered over and saw the sixty foot drop. Dick noticed and quickly let go of the towels as he grabbed Mac's elbow to stabilize her.
"Whoa, there Mac. Be careful," he said seriously as he helped her back away from the edge. She looked a little shaken. Neither knew if it was from her close call or the fact that, since graduation night, they both had nightmares about perilous drops.
When they had taken a few steps away from the edge, Mac, finally fully awake, took in the vista. Sixty feet below, a pristine white sandy beach spread out before them at the base of the cliffs. The water was electric blue and the sky was cloudy but bright. No one was around for miles.
"Dick," Mac breathed, "this place is unbelievable." She looked over at him in awe.
Seeing she was completely safe, he released her and said, "It's even better from the bottom, Mackie. Follow me." Dick led her down a steep walking path towards the water.
After the third time she stumbled in her flip-flops on the rocky passage, Dick, who was leading the descent, turned back to her and said, "Am I going to have to leave this stuff here and carry you down, Klutzy?"
"You could try your luck," Mac bit back, "but I remember promising Logan I would end you if you picked me up again."
Dick laughed thinking about how mad she was when he had taken her purse at Dog Beach. He stopped and put down the cooler and the bundle of cloth he was carrying.
"I would hold your hand, but…" he motioned to all the stuff, now spread out on the ground.
"I haven't had all my shots, Dick."
He made a put-out face, but picked up her right hand by her wrist, did a ballerina twirl while holding it, turned back around facing down the cliff. Then, over his shoulder, he slapped her hand onto the middle of his back.
Surprisingly, she didn't remove it as he bent down to pick up his things.
When they started walking down the cliff again, Mac did find it easier to balance holding onto him. Imagine that, I'm relying on Dick.
"I haven't had cooties since fourth grade, Ghostworld."
"Cooties are the least of my worries, Dork Wad."
But Mac didn't stumble anymore.
They reached the base of the cliffs and stepped onto warm white sand. Mac's hand slid from between Dick's shoulder blades to his low back as she reached level ground with the tall man. She had, even in those short minutes, grown accustomed to the feel of his muscles beneath her hand. Mac didn't realize the situation was awkward until Dick straightened his back and smiled back at her.
She gave a frustrated sigh as she wrenched her hand away from him quickly to which he responded with only an amused chuckle. Then he took off.
Mac saw that Dick was walking towards the only man-made object within a 10 mile radius of this gorgeous beach and she froze.
He was walking toward an enormous hammock strung between two palm trees.
"Dick?" Mac said, annoyed, "there's only one hammock."
"You're not a snuggler?" he asked with a look of feigned concern. "Kidding!" he said when he saw her look of terror mixed with embarrassment. "I'm kidding Mackie," he said again, more softly. "You are going to take the hammock. I brought the tarp and the towels for me." He paused for a second, then asked, " Is this okay?"
She considered that her five minute warning. Mac looked around. She had to admit, this private beach was ideal for napping. Waves, wind, warmth. "It's perfect," she said finally as Dick dropped the cooler in celebration, "but I'll take the tarp and the towels."
When Dick looked as though he would protest, Mac said, "The hammock looks great, but it's in the sun. You know I'll burn. Let me take them over here to the shade. I'll be out in a few minutes."
"Yeah, you're probably right," he said, sounding disappointed, but Dick helped her unfold the tarp and spread out her towels on the sand under the shade of the cliffs. He walked over to the nearby hammock, brushed off the scarce debris, and hopped up landing on the hammock with his legs stretched out and his hands behind his head.
Mac watched all this while critiquing herself. How could someone so large and crude move so gracefully? She was so little, but felt like she, as he pointed out, was such a klutz.
Almost as soon as she curled up on her side, finally stationary since she left the Grande, sleep was threatening to take over.
Dick watched her curled up form from his comfy hammock and two things struck him: how beautiful she was and how small. He couldn't believe he had never truly seen her beauty until That Day, but since then, he had been a wreck. A wreck for her. Though he had to go through several months of intoxication followed by several months of denial; he was finally understanding not all of his behavior could be attributed to his brother.
Her size made him begin to fret again. Beaver had been small too, but Mac was even smaller. That's what bullies did, they picked on people smaller than themselves. Dick should know. Now, as he watched her, his stomach turned imagining awful things Beaver could have done to her. A new feeling of hate for his brother—something different than the ashamed feelings he had about the bus kids and about Veronica—was coming over him.
"Dick," Mac said quietly, still staying in the fetal position on her sandy bed.
"Yeah Mackie?"
"Quit staring at me. You're creeping me out."
"I wasn't staring," he said, his voice faltering and showing how tired he really was. He purposefully turned his body away from her, as much as it dismayed him. 'Creeping her out' was the last thing he wanted to do. "I was just looking." Whatever that meant. Logan's advice of 'Look, don't touch' was getting him in trouble.
As soon as he turned away from her, sleep took him as well.
It felt as though he had only closed his eyes for a second when he was awoken suddenly. But Dick knew from the fatigue that settled in his limbs and the haze that clouded his mind, it had been much longer. An hour maybe.
"I'm cold."
Mac's voice registered. Pulled him from the deepness of sleep rather than let him float up peacefully.
It was her frailty that startled him awake.
He craned his neck up at her; she was now standing beside the hammock. In one fast movement, Dick swung his legs to the side of the hammock facing her and sat in it like a chair. He put his elbows on his knees and rubbed his eyes awake with fists like a toddler.
"Okay babe, gimme a second. I'll take you home." Babe? It was too natural. Too quick. Dick knew he needed to reign in his emotions.
"No," Mac said certainly, to both the offer and the nickname. He looked at her now and saw she was wrapped in a sandy beach towel. Dick thought her grumpy demeanor and pitiful wardrobe—still his pajamas—made her even more adorable. He was smart enough not to say so.
"The wind picked up," she began to explain, "and my shady spot turned into the Mojave at midnight. Now I'm covered in sand," she finished piteously, still drowsy from sleep herself.
"Take that off," he said as he took her cold sandy towel and traded it for his warm sweatshirt pillow. Dick managed to stay relatively sand free as he flung away the offending towel. Mac shivered briefly, but already felt better in the sunlight by the hammock.
"Put it on," he commanded. She looked at the sweatshirt questioningly, but after brushing off any sand remaining on her arms, she seemed pleased when she finally pulled it over her head.
"Why don't you take the hammock and I'll sleep out by the water," Dick offered.
"No, Dick, just scoot over," Mac said motioning to the hammock.
Dick smiled a mischievous smile. "You are a snuggler? I knew you'd come around Mackie."
"Don't be a jackass about it," Mac said as she sat cautiously beside him and Dick proceeded to lie back down. "I just know you're a bigger baby that me, and if you get covered in sand after lying on the ground we won't hear the end of it.
"Plus, I'm still too tired to hike back up that path," she continued as she lay down on the hammock with her feet facing Dick's head. He frowned at this arrangement pointedly.
As they lay side by side, Dick didn't know what to do with his long arms. With a glance, he asked if he could place his left arm, the arm that was pinned against her body in their hammock trough, around her legs. Mac relented with a sigh, her feet now near his armpit and his arm and palm resting against her leg.
Electricity went through her body, originating from his hand. It continued and intensified the longer he lingered. Mac didn't know what to do with those thoughts, didn't want to register them, and absolutely didn't want Dick to know she was having them. She thought frantically for a second about removing his large hand from her leg, but couldn't bear the thought of having to articulate what she was feeling. To have to say why she needed to switch up their arrangements.
Instead, she went for a distraction. "Your legs still have salt on them," she was already thinking this absently as she looked at the long tan legs next to her face.
Dick thought this was funny, but instead of smoothly reminding her he hadn't had a shower since surfing—man, how long ago was that?—he rudely said, "Yeah, well your feet are dirty," as he playfully pointed to all of her toes.
Mac kicked away his hand lightly and said, "I was dancing barefoot on someone's disgusting floor. And then he made me walk down the Grand Canyon in flip-flops."
Dick chuckled, "I'll have to talk to the staff about mopping better."
She harrumphed, but after being settled for a few minutes tucked in together, listening to the ocean, swaying with the breeze, Mac felt herself relax fully.
"It's nice, isn't it?" Dick prompted, knowing the charms of this place had enticed her. Hoping she would respond affirmatively to him and not just the setting.
"Mmmhmm," she murmured, getting close to dozing off again.
Now Mac didn't know what to do with her left arm, the one next to Dick. Every time she started to drift off on this peaceful southern California day, her arm would drop from where she held in the middle of her lap to his abdomen. Damn gravity. And his hand on her leg was burning through her. She couldn't sleep like this. After her arm fell to him the third time, Mac sighed in frustration and rolled away from him.
Neither was asleep, but Dick took his time extricating the hand that was now trapped under her thigh. Mac didn't mind how slowly he moved either, but she felt both sadness and relief when he did.
"You can't just roll over you know," Dick said breaking the silence.
"What?" Mac asked groggily, "Why?"
"'Cause now your ass is in my line of sight and all I can think about is what number you are on grade my ass dot com," he said honestly.
"Dick," Mac said as though she was talking to a child, "most people just close their eyes when they are trying to sleep."
"Oh they were closed, Macalicious, but then you got cold, and climbed up here with me, and kept wiggling around, and now I've got a nice view and a puzzle all at once." Mac was too tired to move or even cover up her backside in shame. "C'mon, tell me. Who are you? # 624? # 757? I know you're on your own site."
"I just might be, but either way I'd never tell," Mac said, all the while hoping he wasn't thinking of # 285. "Regardless," she came back colder, "Close. Your. Eyes. Dick."
"Fine," said Dick as he rolled away from her, knowing closing his eyes wasn't an option.
Mac and Dick lay there uncomfortably with their butts in each other's backs for a few minutes, when Mac finally said, "Oh for Pete's sake," as she crawled up the hammock to point her head and feet in the same direction as Dick.
"I'm not cuddling with you," she said half joking, half serious as she turned over. Now they were lying back to back.
"You're not?" Dick asked. She could hear him smiling from her side of the hammock.
"No Dick," Mac said sourly. "I know your magic hideaway has a we're-the-last-people-on-earth kind of feel to it, but even if that were true, you'd still not be getting into my pants."
Mac could feel Dick shrug as he said, "Whatever, Mackie. I already got you in my pants."
Waiting for a punch line—please be a joke and not something gross—she propped herself up on an elbow and rolled her head toward him with a 'you'd better explain yourself' look.
Instead of explaining, Dick pinched her—his—pajamas and pulled on them as if to say. 'See? I got you in my pants.'
Though she refused to laugh out loud as she rolled back, Dick was pleased to feel Mac's silent shoulder shakes of confined giggles.
Their backs warmed each other and when they were silent again, both Mac and Dick thought of Cassidy.
Neither had touched willfully more than just in passing since That Day, and their closeness now made each think of the boy who was gone.
Mac missed him. Then she felt guilty for missing him. Then she thought of how different the boy beside her was from his brother.
Dick missed him. Then he felt guilty for missing him. Then he got mad when he thought of his brother hurting this precious girl beside him.
Both slept hard, better than they had in months.
A/N: next up, the second half of this day. It was all going to be one chapter, but it was getting too long. After that, the whole gang returns. Please and thank you for going easy on my slow posting!