Author's note: This came out even fluffier than I intended it. I make no apologies!

I do apologize that it's a day late. I actually had it finished by a reasonable hour on Sunday, and then we lost phone and internet service and I wasn't able to post until today.

Naudrey song of the day: Iris, by the Goo Goo Dolls.

And I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

Thanks, as always, to everyone who's taken the time to review, fave, or follow.

He allowed her one day to wallow. He called the station to excuse them both and they spent most of the morning in bed, sometimes making love, sometimes just holding each other as he traced assurances onto her skin and whispered them into her hair.

Later they turned to Jack Daniels and Patsy Cline. She couldn't help but smile as he pulled the CD from a cracked and well worn case. Some part of her had always thought he'd been kidding about that. After they'd both had a few shots she pulled him up – "Easier to wallow from the floor," he'd drawled – and they swayed to the music. She couldn't help but think of his reunion, when he'd been reluctant to touch her and she hadn't wanted to let go, but hadn't been brave enough to say it. That certainly wasn't a problem anymore. His hands wandered, the alcohol perhaps making him a little fresh, and as mad as she wanted to stay at herself she still marveled at the way she came alive under his fingertips. She was glad to see him take what he wanted – especially when what he wanted was her.

The need for fresh air eventually drew them out to his front porch. He must have texted Duke for backup because there was a box of cupcakes waiting for them with a note that read: Cheer up. What do those old bastards know, anyway? She'd never tell him, but she had always found something pretty about Duke's handwriting, as if even the shape of his letters was putting on a show.

They sat on Nathan's porch swing – because Haven was that sort of town – and gorged themselves on chocolate and peanut butter, vanilla and strawberry, and a few other delectable combinations. Nathan tried to tell her they were too sweet, but she insisted he save her from eating the whole dozen herself. She kissed the frosting off his lip even though she knew he'd gotten it there on purpose, and then she snuggled into him to watch the sun set over the ocean.

There wasn't a picket fence – Haven wasn't that sort of town – but that gave Audrey an unobstructed view of how the lawn gave way to a rocky cliff that tumbled into the sea. She should have been able to see the lighthouse, but the shoreline was unbroken – another of her casualties, surely.

It was a mild March, which was still quite chilly in coastal Maine. The flannel jacket Nathan lent her dwarfed her frame, but it was like his arms were around her twice, and she'd already decided she was never giving it back. Her hands were lost in the sleeves, and the hem came nearly to her knees. She'd had to roll up the cuffs to eat her cupcakes, but as she pulled them loose she could feel Nathan laughing behind her.

"I look ridiculous, don't I?"

"Nah. Midget lumberjack's a good look for you."

She twisted back and was shocked to find that he was beaming. She finally believed, as her lungs stuttered and stilled at how handsome he was when he smiled like that, that he'd been telling the truth. As inconceivable as it was, he didn't blame her. That had been one of her deepest fears – that there was some seed of bitterness inside him and once it took root and he could no longer hide it she wouldn't be able to live with herself. But there was no way he could look at her like that if he blamed her at all.

"I love you," she told him, leaning back into his chest.

He didn't say anything, just tightened his arms around her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He hadn't said much all day. He'd just been there, a warm presence at her back, when no one else had ever bothered. His love for her was so clear in all his actions that her words felt inadequate. She'd have to come up with a way to repay him.

"Tell me everything is going to be okay," she whispered.

"Everything's going to be okay," he told her. He was as reliable as the tides. As certain as the sun setting before them.

"You really believe that, don't you?"

"Yep." His breath was warm on her neck as his hand carded through her hair.

She took a deep breath and released it slowly, imagining all her uncertainties dissipating with the air. "Okay." Now it was up to her to believe it too.

Life in Haven went on. Solving cases was much more enjoyable after Nathan took their reprieve to heart and stopped picturing doom around every corner. Though Audrey's guilt still resurfaced whenever someone in town treated her coldly, Nathan's presence was usually enough to keep it at bay.

One morning she pulled out her duffle bag and found it woefully empty of anything even vaguely resembling professional attire.

"I don't have anything to wear," she muttered mostly to herself as she scanned the room for something that wasn't too wrinkled to be presentable.

"We should do laundry tonight. And you should move in."

"What did you say?" Her head snapped toward his voice immediately. He'd just come from the shower, and he was shirtless and toweling his hair dry.

"We should do laundry," he repeated slowly. "And then we should get the rest of your stuff and bring it here."

She couldn't believe they were having this conversation when she could see all the muscles in his chest. "Whoa, Wuornos. You don't just spring that on a girl. Let's do some chores and then make a major life commitment."

He lowered the towel and smirked at her. "You've spent every night here since you've gotten back. You only go to your apartment to swap out clothes. Makes sense for you to move in."

"Yeah, but…" She couldn't find an end to that sentence. Could barely think at all with the way her stomach was suddenly churning.

The dread must have shown on her face. "Do you want to go back to your place?" he asked, sounding hurt and worried.

"No!" The thought of that made her even sicker. She'd gotten used to waking up with him always in reach, and she made a point to touch him so he could start each day feeling something. She didn't want him to wake alone either.

He dropped the towel and stood in front of her, settling his hands on her shoulders. "What are you afraid of?"

It was uncanny how well he knew her. She took a deep breath and tried to convey the panic as something intelligible. "I'm terrible at all this relationship stuff. Even before my life became a trainwreck, my life was a trainwreck. I've always been on my own. I've never lived with anyone who cared – especially not a guy. I'm a mess. I rarely have time for chores. I never dust – or vacuum. I let dishes pile up. I forget to pay rent."

He chuckled. "You really haven't lived with a man before. I'm not your grandmother, Parker. I'm not looking for a housekeeper. I don't give a damn about any of that as long as I wake up beside you." She could hear his amusement just as clearly as she could see it, and even though he was mocking her it soothed her somehow.

"Besides, from the way your clothes are strewn across my house, I already figured you were a mess."

She flicked him in the neck and he shied away, exaggerating the pain. But as soon as she started to laugh his hands were back, rubbing circles on her shoulders.

"You move in here, maybe James can stay at the Gull. It'll get him out of that awful motel."

The shockwave of nostalgia was unexpected. "I love that apartment."

"We could stay there then. James could move in here."

She stared up at him, shocked that he seemed absolutely serious. "You'd give up your house – and put up with Duke as your landlord?"

"Long as you were there with me."

His tone was brimming with sincerity, but there was something a little bit wicked in his eye. "You just want to remind Duke that we're sleeping together."

He smiled at her, and God, sometimes he made her feel like such a girl. "Would be a bonus."

Fear was loosening its grip, and she could begin to see the situation rationally. "It would be silly to give up your house." In truth her apartment was too small for two people, and she didn't need a security blanket when she had him.

"There are plenty of spare rooms. You can have one. Do whatever you like with it. Go there whenever you need some time alone to paint your nails or have a good cry."

"Wow. Obviously you've never lived with a woman before." But she stopped herself. She knew so little about his life in the years between the Troubles. "You haven't, have you?" she asked. She wasn't sure why the answer seemed so important. She should have wanted that for him – a normal life with a few failed relationships. But she didn't like the thought of him being rejected – or anyone else being able to lay a claim on him.

"Nah." He seemed a little wistful, and she placed her hands on his waist. He was always so warm, she couldn't comprehend how he couldn't feel it.

"Why not?"

She had wondered, long before she thought of him as anything more than a partner and friend, why a man as handsome and decent as Nathan Wuornos hadn't been snatched up long before his Trouble reactivated.

"Because I knew, as much as I tried to pretend otherwise, that the Troubles would come back. Didn't seem fair to start a life with someone when I knew I would ruin it."

She frowned, wishing she could tell him that wasn't the case.

"Besides, none of the other girls in Haven were you."

"That was terrible," she groaned, even as his cheesy words flooded her with warmth. Her fingers twitched on his skin, and she noticed something different in the way he reacted – a small smile crossed his face and he twisted away from her.

"You're ticklish," she crowed.

"Am not." His eyes widened, and she itched to prove him wrong.

"Parker," he warned, but her fingers were already moving up his sides. Soon they were both breathless with laughter. He eventually caught her wrists and trapped them against his chest.

"Move in with me," he repeated, boyish and beautiful and everything she didn't deserve but desperately wanted.

"You'll get tired of me," she admitted, her last and greatest fear.

He didn't even hesitate. "Not gonna happen."

It really was unfair that they were having this conversation when he was half dressed, she thought as she stared at his chest. "Everyone always does."

He lifted her chin gently. "Not me." He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, until it seemed they were breathing the same air and she could feel his promise down to her toes.

They did laundry that night. The next day after work Duke and James came over to the Gull to help her pack.

It was a little depressing how quickly they finished. The Gull had been more of a home to her than any other place she'd ever stayed, but it still took four people only a little more than an hour to box up all the belongings she'd acquired.

As the men tried to figure out how to get the piano downstairs she retreated to the deck, where she'd so often gone to gather her thoughts. She curled up on one of the Adirondack chairs, sad that it might be the last time.

Except for stepping into the Barn, Audrey had never found it so hard to leave somewhere.

It wasn't that she regretted her decision. When she looked at it objectively, Nathan was right – she'd already been living at his place since her return. She shouldn't be weepy over the fact she was relocating her clothes.

But the Gull had been important to her. She'd decorated, she'd thrown a Christmas party in July, she'd invited over friends and dates. She'd actually looked forward to going back there, knowing that staring out over the ocean or listening to the bustle downstairs would sooth her when life at the station was too heavy. She had started to build a life in Haven, and this was the place she'd gone to process it all.

Except she'd already left it behind without even realizing, because she had Nathan now. And that was inarguably better than solitude. But it was still unsettling to leave this, when solitude was all she'd known her entire twisted, never-ending life.

"You okay?" Duke asked, settling in the chair next to hers.

"Aren't you supposed to be helping?" she asked, tilting her head toward the truck. Nathan and James had gotten the piano out of the building, but it was still a long way from loaded.

"They got it," he said. "Besides, I had to get your present."

He handed her a narrow blue bag with a silver bow. She pulled out a fancy bottle of champagne.

"Thanks, Duke."

He grinned at her. "Least I could do for my favorite former tenant."

"Not just for this," she said solemnly. It was another thing she'd miss. Duke had been more than her landlord. He'd been someone to rely on – a listening ear and an extra gun and a short-order cook, all rolled up into the second friend she'd ever had. They'd still be friends, but now that she was moving in with Nathan they'd never be quite the same.

"You're not going to get all sappy on me, are you?"

"Maybe."

He leaned toward her conspiratorially. "I'll allow it, just this once. Only cause Nathan and James are down there."

She laughed, hugging her knees to her chest. "After we found out about the Hunter, I was a wreck. And you were always there, watching out for me. I'm not sure what I would have done if you weren't."

She could tell he appreciated the words, but in typical Duke Crocker fashion he didn't say that. But he didn't try to excuse them away, either. He looked out toward the lot where Nathan was hoisting the piano. "He taking good care of you now?"

She was sure her smile was sickening, but she couldn't temper it. "Yeah."

"If he stops, you tell me. I'll kick his ass. I won't even enjoy it. Beating on Nathan is no fun. But I'd do it."

"You won't have to," she assured. But it felt good, somehow, to know that he would.

The piano finally in place, James and Nathan began to secure it. The cadence of their voices carried, but she couldn't discern what they were saying. There was something delightful about seeing them together, as if for a few moments all was right in their crazy world. "Can I ask you another favor?"

"Another favor? Why Audrey Parker, I think you're taking advantage of me."

But she didn't take his bait this time. "Will you keep an eye on James for me? I worry about him sometimes, with Arla … and everything."

His sigh was deep, without a hint of affectation. "Yeah, I'll watch the kid. I'd be a pretty terrible uncle if I didn't, huh?"

"You're a good man, Duke," she said, but she cut him off when he tried to protest. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

"Thanks."

They sat in silence for awhile, listening to the music downstairs. When she first met Duke Crocker she'd never have guessed that comfortable silence would be one of his strengths, but since she moved in here he always seemed to know when she just needed someone around.

"I feel like I'm leaving home for the first time," she said after a few minutes. "How weird is that?"

"All grown up and moving in with a boy," he teased.

"Everything okay up here?" Nathan and James had returned. Audrey smiled and patted the arm of her chair so Nathan would come and sit by her.

"Everything's great. Duke brought us booze."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Maybe because I kept you from packing four of the wine glasses."

They were always digging at each other, but something had shifted between Nathan and Duke, and though Audrey wasn't exactly sure what she was grateful for it. She needed both of them, although in different ways, and she wanted them to get along. There were too many real enemies to fight to waste time sparring with each other.

She leaned against Nathan as Duke and James went inside to get the glasses and a bottle opener. "No regrets," she whispered, linking one of her hands with his.

The four of them toasted under the starry sky. "To old tenants. And new tenants. And friends," Duke declared grandiosely, and even Nathan managed the ghost of a smile.

"To family," she amended, watching each of the men in her life in turn. Somehow, this time around, the servant had gotten lucky.

Duke had promised he'd come by the next evening to move the piano, but Audrey and Nathan brought the rest of the boxes into his house by themselves. His delight made it impossible to hold on to her melancholy.

Once they'd moved most of the stuff to his bedroom and a few boxes to his kitchen he pulled her down the hallway to a room she'd never been in before.

"If you don't like it you can pick another one," he said. "I won't be offended."

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

He opened the door and pushed her gently inside.

The walls were a warm yellow and lined with bookshelves, except for the window that gave her a clear view of the ocean. There was a desk, a comfortable looking couch, and one of the deck chairs from the Gull.

"I thought one was missing," she said, rubbing her hand over the familiar wood, surprised at how glad she was to see it when she'd just been sitting in one two hours ago.

"Duke's contribution," he said.

"Nathan, what is this?"

"Your space. For when you need it."

She wanted to jump him, right then and there, and she also had an aggravating urge to cry. She managed to do neither, but it was quite a struggle.

"How did you pull this off? I agreed to move in with you two days ago."

"James. He painted and built all the bookshelves while we were at the station."

The thought of that, her son and his father, conspiring to do all this for her was almost too much.

"There's one more thing."

"Only one?"

He handed her a square package wrapped in newspaper and she tore into it, almost afraid at how this could get any better.

It was a ceramic tile with a cerulean blue border. The words "Audrey's" and "Room" were spelled out in thick yellow letters and separated by a cupcake with chocolate frosting and white sprinkles.

"You made this," she whispered, realizing she was finally holding evidence of his infamous decoupage skills. "When did you have time to make this?"

"You're a heavy sleeper," he said, as if it wasn't a big deal at all.

Which explained why he'd been extra hard to rouse this morning but not how he got to be so ridiculously perfect.

"You're too much," she said, each and every cell brimming with so much affection for him she wasn't sure she could stand the intensity of it.

His smile made her dizzy. "You make me the happiest man in the world. Least I can do is try to return the favor."

After placing the sign in the center of the desk where it would hopefully be safe she launched herself at him, kissing him with the ferocity of a hurricane, one hand raking through his hair and the other working its way under his shirt. They stumbled backwards until she pushed him against one of the bookshelf covered walls, which would have been uncomfortable for anyone else, but for once she was grateful that she didn't have to care. She continued to ravage him until she needed to come up for air and then they panted together like animals while her hands continued to move, move, move.

"So now that I live here, you'll have to show me your decoupage room," she murmured into his neck, her tongue flicking out to taste him.

It was a testament to just how much time they'd spent desensitizing him that he was able to manage a coherent response. "That wasn't part of the deal."

"Guess I'll have to move out then." Her hands moved to his belt buckle and lingered there, teasing.

"Shame." His hand ran up her thigh and she decided it was time to get his pants off.

"We're supposed to christen every room in the house, right?" she asked a few minutes later, all thoughts of even pretending to leave long forgotten.

"I think we've hit a few already." She loved when his voice went all low and gravely and he tossed his inhibitions out the window.

"Better do them again though, just to be safe."

His fingers danced across her. "No arguments here."

"You think you can find it," he purred in her ear later as she neared the edge, every muscle coiled against him. She'd meant to have the upper hand, but somehow he'd turned the tables.

"What?" she asked, nearly delirious.

"The decoupage room."

It was honestly the last thing on her mind, but she appreciated he thought so much of her concentration.

"Oh yeah," she said, but it came out more of a sigh then anything, and the way he was touching her she didn't care.

"By the time we get there, you won't even notice," he promised, and she came laughing into his shoulder, hoping he was right.

She found it a few days later while she was pawing through the knick-knacks on top of his dresser – a dusty gold ring on a silver chain.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Nathan asked from the doorway, and Audrey jumped like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

But he was far too distracted by her appearance to take much notice of her actions. She was wearing the flannel shirt and fur-lined boots he'd bought her shortly after she came to Haven, her hair tossed up in a messy bun so it would be out of her way while snooping.

"You kept that," he said after he'd looked her up and down.

She smiled, glad that he was obviously pleased. "Course I did. It was the first gift you ever gave me – even if you were making fun of me for being an outsider. Which turned out to be untrue, by the way. I've been in Haven longer than anyone."

"Yet you still have no idea how to dress for a Maine winter," he said, shaking his head with a laugh. "Were you going through my stuff?"

"Yep," she answered without shame. "You're the one who asked me to move in. I'm nosy. You'll have to deal with it. I found the ring."

It was only after she said it that she realized how that sounded. But his eyes went wide immediately. "That's not for you. Not that it couldn't be. I mean—"

"Obviously," she said to stop his floundering. "Because it would be in a box, not on a chain. Not that I've been thinking about that, because that would be - crazy."

"Not that crazy," he muttered under his breath. But even as her heart pounded in her throat she noticed something shifty in his gaze.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked.

"You're not wearing any pants."

She threw back her head and laughed, their uneasy spell broken. "Great observation, Sherlock."

That was for his benefit, of course. His libido had been suppressed for so long, she liked making him feel like a man. It was always fun when he turned all shades of awkward. What came after the awkward was fun too.

But seducing him would have to wait, because there was something important about the ring and she wouldn't be sidetracked until they figured this out.

"So what's the story?" she asked, opening her hand and letting the ring dangle on its chain from her fingers.

"It was my father's."

"Pretty feminine for the Chief," she teased.

"You don't think he was a jewelry guy?" he countered with an easy smile. "He used to keep it in his pocket. Always had it with him."

"Was it your mother's?"

"No. He buried her with her wedding rings. Strangely sentimental for the Chief. Or maybe he just assumed I'd never need them."

She let that slide, the topic a little too close to home after their earlier exchange. "Whose was it then?"

"He never said. But I found it after he … exploded. I used to wear it. Stopped after you were gone. Didn't seem worth it, or something." He scratched at the back of his neck. "Why are you so interested?"

She opened the jewelry box she'd placed on his dresser and pulled her own ring from the bottom. "Vince gave this to me. Said it was Sarah's," she explained as she handed it to him.

He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, taking in the same size and color. The diamonds were arranged differently, and Audrey didn't know much about jewelry, but there seemed to be similarities. "Think they were a set?"

"Yeah, I do." She wasn't sure where the conviction came from, but it felt right. "There's an inscription on it."

"PAH," they said simultaneously.

"Well I guess that solves that," Audrey said.

"Hardly."

"Did Sarah wear a ring?"

"No." He blushed as he said it, and she wished for the millionth time that she could remember why. What had he done to Sarah, exactly? What had she done to him?

"How old do you think these are?" she asked.

"No idea. Guess we could ask an appraiser. They seem old."

"Sixteenth century old?"

"What are you thinking?"

"Maybe I cursed the town and stole the mayor's daughter's wedding rings just for fun."

He shot her a disapproving look. He was still holding steadfast to her innocence in this whole debacle. "If we can identify the initials that could give us a lead."

It was a place to start when they didn't have many of those. But holding onto the ring which Nathan had worn around like a talisman for no discernable reason, she couldn't shake the feeling that it was hers.

Apparently thinking that is should have been was what had started all this.

"You think Lucy gave this to your dad?"

"Makes as much sense as anything, I guess."

"But why? And why would Sarah give hers to Vince?"

"Something to remember her by?"

It was hard to fathom how many times the cycle had played out – her leaving her friends behind with very little explanation. Was that why Garland had never said anything? Was the fact she didn't remember him too hard to face?

But as much as she'd wanted to leave a piece of herself for Nathan, she'd never once considered giving him a ring. And she'd had one, so she could have.

"How would she get them?"

"Same way you did, maybe? Passed down from cycle to cycle by those she left behind."

"So maybe you were supposed to give this back to me."

It was easy to see how the thought of that pained him. Talk of the Barn was inevitable when they were so consumed with solving this mystery, but they were both trying to live in the present.

"You should hang on to it. Since we destroyed the Barn and I'm not going anywhere." She reached up and dropped the chain over his head. The ring settled on his chest like it belonged there. "I'm back now. So maybe you should start wearing that again."

"'Kay. And you can keep this one." He handed her Sarah's ring and she put it back in her jewelry box.

"That leaves just one question," he told her.

"Only one?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Why aren't you wearing any pants?"

"Thought that was obvious," she said, trying not to giggle. "I'm trying to seduce you." He grinned, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed her bare leg against his. "Think breakfast can wait?" she whispered in his ear.

"Breakfast can always wait," he answered, finding the buttons on her shirt.

"Even pancakes?"

"Even pancakes," he echoed sincerely before kissing her.

Being preferred over a breakfast food had never felt like such a victory.

A little bit of bad news – I'm about to hit my busy season at work, which means I'm probably not going to be able to keep up the weekly updates for the next two months. I'll do what I can, but I'm going to spent 4 of the next 8 weekends working about 36 hours straight – and then sleeping the rest of it off, so that's going to cut into my writing time significantly. If you think of me, feel free to make a donation to your local Relay For Life or pray for some nice weather.