Thailand.

She's taking me to Thailand.

It only took fifty-two hours for her to request leave from work for the both of us, make all of our travel arrangements, and pack everything we could possibly need.

She is an incredible woman.

Our family and friends couldn't have been more supportive of our sabbatical. I guess I've been worrying everyone into the ground. It makes me sick with guilt...just another reason I needed to get away.

We're currently somewhere over the Pacific, cruising at altitude aboard her family's private jet. I've never been on one before and it's pretty much exactly like I've seen in the movies...except maybe better.

Constance Isles owns a popular art gallery in Bangkok; yet another international connection that this family harbors. Apparently, she has a big showing in a few days and the jet was already scheduled for the trans-pacific flight to deliver a few more pieces that will be on display at the event. Maura simply sent her mother a formal request to be on board and we were set.

We won't be staying in the city for very long. My travel partner has informed me that we'll only be there long enough to recover from our flight and experience a little bit of the culture. As far as our ultimate destination is concerned, I haven't been told much. Maura mentioned a few names of what I assumed to be cities, but I don't know for sure.

Speaking of Maura, she is currently sleeping in my lap.

Well, her head is in my lap anyway.

Since leaving the jazz bar a few nights ago she has kept as close to me as she is logistically, physically, and emotionally able. She's held my hand or linked our arms when we walk. When we sit together she either has her head on my shoulder, her hand on my thigh, or settles herself close enough that she can lean her body against mine.

She's been staying at my apartment and riding around in my car with me. The only times I've been separated from her are when I'm in the bathroom. Even then, she'll sometimes talk to me through the door.

It's like she's afraid that I'll run away if she gives me the chance.

I wouldn't...couldn't really. The thing is, I need her. I didn't realize how dead I had become until she reached me through the tangled web of depression that I was caught in.

Her touch has become my redemption; her presence my salvation. She is a lifeline that I am using to climb back into myself. And so, I don't complain about the constant touching, even though I'm sure she expects me to, I just enjoy it.

We moved to the jet's couch a few hours ago. It didn't surprise me when she grabbed a medical journal, sat down next to me, put her feet up on the cushions, and leaned her back against my side to begin reading.

She claimed to be 'incredibly fascinated' by the article, but she was asleep within five minutes of opening it. I gently slid her down to a more comfortable position; the end result being that my thigh is now her pillow.

I've lost track of the time while taking the opportunity to unabashedly stare at my own personal sleeping beauty. I let my fingers play with tips of her hair and I smile to myself. I'm so grateful. I've made a lot of bad decisions in my life, but somewhere along the line, I must have done something inherently right.

This person is my best friend and I care about her so much. I love her.

I'm in love with her.

The thought doesn't shock me anymore; it's something I came to terms with not long after we established our friendship. However, I resist the overwhelming urge to pursue something more.

Denying my desire for her is like keeping an exotic flower from blooming. The bud is rare and wonderful just as it is...it's unbelievable that it even exists. If opened, its beauty would be beyond words. The happiness and pleasure that it would bring would be indescribable.

But once a flower has blossomed, it is more vulnerable and fragile...and it inevitably begins to wither.

I cannot risk such a scenario with our friendship. I would rather enjoy it as the rare and wonderful bud that it is, than have the audacity to want something more and doom it to an untimely end.

My life without her is inconceivable, so, I keep myself in check. I outwardly love her as much as a best friend should and inwardly love her with an intensity that often causes me physical pain.

Her brow furrows and she starts mumbling in her sleep. The look on her face becomes one of distress.

I use the tip of my pinky to gently caress the worry lines that have formed on her forehead and I quietly shush and reassure her that I am here.

Her face relaxes and she slips back into her peaceful slumber.

I've put her through so much, especially over these last several weeks. I doubt she's gotten much more sleep than I have. She's probably just as tired as me, only she cares more about hiding it from the important people in her life. I know that she has just as much healing to do on this trip as I do.

I will dedicate myself to her needs as much as I'm sure she will dedicate herself to mine.

We will fix each other.

I spare a glance at the little T.V. screen that shows the aircraft's location in its flightpath. Looks like we're about halfway to our destination.

As I resume combing my fingers through silky locks of spun copper and gold, I feel a wave of complete and utter contentment wash over me. Suddenly, I am hit with a craving for sleep that I can't deny.

I support my friend's head as best as I can while I stand up, then snag a nearby pillow to gently set her back down on. I intend to find another location that will allow me to stretch out and I turn around to begin my search.

Before I can get more than three steps away, I hear Maura whimper my name.

I spin back around.

She's still asleep, but the expression on her face is heart wrenching. It looks like someone just ran over her puppy.

She becomes more restless the longer I stand and I make a quick decision. It's risky, but I think it will help both of us rest better.

The couch is wide, so I don't have to scoot Maura over very far as I carefully climb over her. I end up laying on my side; my body sandwiched between the back of the couch and the form of the woman in front of me.

I'm slightly pressed against her, but I manage to keep my hands to myself.

Our interactions as of late have been more intimate than I would normally allow, but at this moment I am much too happy to care.

My couchmate settles once more and releases a satisfied sigh. She whispers a word and I'm not sure if it is a request or command.

"Stay"

Request. Command. It doesn't matter...because I will. I do.

I close my eyes and revel in the contact we are sharing.

Her touch has become my redemption.

Her presence, my salvation.

My eyes stay shut and my face relaxes as dreams of our coming adventures take shape in my impending unconsciousness.

The last thing I remember before succumbing to physical and mental exhaustion is feeling Maura turn on her side to face me and place her hand on my hip.

She is a lifeline; an avenue through which I can reclaim myself.

She really is an incredible woman.

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews, favorites, and follows! I'm thrilled that you are reading the story, but when you sacrifice your own time to respond to my attempts at writing...I am truly honored. -SJR