Author's Note: A few lines in this part were borrowed from the Season Two Roswell episode Skin and Bones.
Part 32
Maria hurried inside when Liz opened the door and she stomped the snow off of her boots before kicking them off and shrugging out of her coat. "Good grief, it's cold out there!" She glanced around at the warm interior and smiled when she saw Isabel straightening up.
"I guess Max made it to your cabin," Liz said with a glance outside.
"Yeah, I left the two of them staring at each other." She rolled her eyes. "I would say I'd love to be a fly on that wall but considering the conversation, or lack thereof, it'd probably be a waste of time." She sniffed the air and looked at Isabel again. "Did you have bacon for breakfast?"
"Kyle made bacon and eggs this morning," she answered absently.
"It smells wonderful."
"So how was your night?" Liz asked as she sat on the arm of the loveseat.
"Well, I woke up to a warm cabin and chocolate chip pancakes," Maria said as she flopped on the loveseat next to Liz.
"I had oatmeal and made Max his favorite breakfast."
Maria wrinkled her nose. "No, no, no oatmeal. Chocolate chip pancakes, extra chips in mine and a side order of sausage."
"My dad's secret recipe?" Liz asked.
"That's the one."
Isabel made a face. "How can you like oatmeal?"
Liz shrugged. "I don't know, I just do." She stuck her tongue out at her sister-in-law. "The same way I like vanilla ice cream I guess."
"Let me guess, Max had his usual egg in a hole." She rolled her eyes. How that could be her brother's favorite breakfast meal was beyond her. Cut a circle out of the center of a slice of bread and fry an egg up in its place. Gross.
"Well, it's what he likes," Liz defended her husband's choice. "It's a comfort food."
"Well, I guess after last night a little comfort was in order." Isabel sat down on the olive green vinyl recliner, her expression thoughtful. "This just can't be happening," she mused aloud.
Maria looked at Isabel and smiled slightly. The tall blonde still worried about Michael and she probably always would. She had always been the buffer between the two guys. Even after it had become the six of them instead of just the three of them she had still been the go-between. "I think they're gonna be okay, Isabel. It was past time for the two of them to get that out in the open. I think we all would've preferred it if they had handled that differently, but… Well, they both react to certain situations in ways that drive all of us nuts. Hopefully they'll get this sorted out and when they come down here things'll be right again."
"Do you think guys actually talk things out?"
Maria and Liz exchanged a look and snorted at the same time.
"Maybe your guy does," Liz teased.
"Yeah," Maria smirked, "Kyle does have that whole Buddhist thing going on."
Isabel studied her fingernails for a moment. "Would you like me to ask him to teach Michael and Max to meditate?"
"We all know how well that'd go over," Maria laughed. "Can you picture Michael sitting on the floor meditating? He doesn't have that kind of patience."
"Max does," Liz shook her head, "but you're not gonna get him to agree to anything like that. And that suggestion probably wouldn't be welcome right now anyway."
Maria slouched deeper into the loveseat and looked up at Liz. "What kind of mood was he in last night?"
"Ungh, bad. I don't know about Michael, but… when Max is that emotional and pissed off at the same time… it's kinda like watching a three-year-old throw a temper tantrum." She giggled and tried to stop herself but it just turned into a snort that set Maria off.
Isabel watched them, feeling out of place.
"If the situation hadn't been so serious I might've started laughing at him."
Maria laughed even harder as she pictured what Liz was describing. "I hope I never witness that because I know I'd laugh." She glanced over at Isabel and realized that they had left her out as they poked fun at their guys. "How about Kyle?"
"He didn't have much to say." She got up and walked over to one of the windows to look outside. "Actually he didn't have anything to say last night."
"He had a lot on his mind." Maria tipped her head to one side to follow Isabel's progress around the room. "But you probably talked to him this morning, right? I mean, last night didn't have anything to do with you. He's not mad at you."
"How's Michael?" Isabel asked, turning the conversation around.
"He's slowly getting better. I gave him his space last night but after two hours I decided he'd had about as much space as he needed. The lake behind us is frozen over and when he took off after the fight with Max, that's where he went. He was back there staring up at the stars."
Liz watched her friend and thought about the volatile hybrid's reaction the night before. She couldn't imagine trying to calm him down and she was thankful that Max didn't get like that.
"It was so peaceful out there." Maria sighed at the memory. "It reminded me of when I saw him on the dreamplane. Remember when he was so sick? The scenery reminded me of that, only it was the winter version." She tried not to frown as she recalled his first words to her last night.
"Wow, really?" Liz's gaze dropped to the floor at the memory of the fear that had taken hold of her that day. Before her mind could latch onto the regret she felt at being unable to participate in the healing circle she looked up and caught the expression on her friend's face. "What happened?"
Maria's features were taut as she fidgeted. "Nothing really." She tugged on her right earlobe as her eyes stared at that scene from the night before. "It's just… the first thing out of his mouth was whether or not I could get on a snowmobile and get outta here if something happened." She stood up and started to pace. "I just hate being seen as the weak link because of my status as the human in the group."
"It's not just you he's worried about, Maria," Isabel said quietly. "This whole time we've been on the run Michael's the one whose held things together. I think it's time for us to all get involved in the decision making."
Liz reached for Maria as she passed her again, pulling her down to sit next to her. "Maria, no… I may not exactly understand Michael, but there's no way he sees you as weak." She took her friend's hand between both of hers, her insistent voice drawing Maria's gaze. "You're the one who saved the day when Nicholas came to Roswell for Max, Isabel, Michael, and…" she swallowed hard. "Anyway, he doesn't think you're weak, and you can't be thinking like that."
They looked up when they heard someone kicking the doorframe outside and a moment later the door opened and Kyle stepped inside, stomping his feet. His gaze bounced around the room, taking in the girls' positions. Maria was sitting on the loveseat with Liz perched on the arm, the two of them leaning in towards each other; their closeness indicated they had been in the middle of a conversation. Even when they were sitting across a room they were leaning towards each other, their body language evidence that their trust in each other was absolute.
Isabel was standing across the room, her posture perfectly poised as she stared outside as if the scenery held the answer to some unspoken question. She was isolated from the others and that saddened him. It wasn't unusual for her to be separate from the other girls even when they were in close quarters. Maria and Liz shared a bond that Isabel wasn't a part of and even though he knew they tried to include her it was all too easy to fall into their normal routine and before long she would pull away.
"So… cabin in the middle of nowhere, food in the fridge, and three pretty girls… what more could a guy want?" he asked as he shrugged out of his winter gear.
Isabel smiled at his attempt to bring all three of them into a conversation even though his opening was bound to get him into hot water.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Michael sat at the table, staring at the last piece of sausage on his plate. He could hear Max shifting around uncomfortably and he wondered if he was going to say anything. Maybe he was just gonna stand there and stare holes in the back of his head.
Max watched Michael as he picked his fork up and cut the sausage patty in half. It was something to occupy him, something to keep his hands busy while he waited for Max to speak up. He scratched his neck absentmindedly before shoving his hands in his pockets. His expression was determined as he took a step forward and cleared his throat.
"You were right." He reached up to straighten a picture on the wall. "I would've lost it if that cop had approached Liz." He shrugged and shoved his fists deep in his pockets again. "I don't think I would've obsessed over it the way you have." He saw Michael's right hand tighten around his fork and he hunched his shoulders as he carefully selected his next words. "Maybe if I'd been more of a friend since we started runnin' you wouldn't be so on edge." He walked around the room, picking things up and putting them back down. "The truth is that I'm the one who screwed things up, Michael, not you."
Michael got up and carried the dishes to the sink, turning the water on and watching the congealed syrup thin out to be washed down the drain. His mind was on a conversation he'd had with Jim Valenti while sitting behind bars after Deputy Hansen had pegged him for being in the area where they had discovered Pierce's bones.
"I have no clue who or what we're up against. And I've been so pissed off at Max for not leading, but he doesn't know any more than I do. None of us do. We're all in the dark waiting to be attacked, and all I can think is what if I'm not strong enough?"
"This leadership thing," he said finally, "it's difficult." He shrugged and started to wash the dishes. Why couldn't Max have waited until after Maria had washed the dishes?
Max grabbed a dishtowel and took the plate when Michael reached over to place it in the drying rack. "It's a pretty lonely place sometimes," he admitted, thinking about what Liz had said the night before. She had pointed out one of their major differences. Michael went with his gut and tended to act first. And he went over the options, weighing and measuring everything before making a decision.
They cleaned the kitchen in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts for a while before Max spoke up again. "I know you're scared of losing Maria."
"Okay, we don't have to talk this to death, Maxwell," Michael muttered as he went to wipe the table off. "Leave all that chick talk to the girls and Kyle."
Max rolled his eyes and looked down at his wedding ring. "I'm just sayin' I know that fear." He bit the inside of his cheek. "I lost Liz once…"
"You've had your share of breakups." He balled the rag in his hand up and threw it in the direction of the sink, fisting the air when it landed against the back with a wet splat. "That Tess thing's on you though."
He shook his head, not wanting his thoughts to go there. "I'm talking about her dying, Michael."
The somber tone caught Michael's attention and he turned to look at his friend. "What're you talkin' about?"
"I don't have to wonder what it would feel like to lose her because I already know. You hear people talk about losing the person they love… feeling like a part of themselves has been ripped away, like their own heart stops beating and they can't breathe. They're right… all of it. Only it's actually much worse than that. I just don't have the words to adequately describe it."
"What the hell are you talkin' about?" he repeated, his voice rising. Maybe Max had finally cracked. Stuck in the great white north, surrounded by miles of snow… White, he mused as Max avoided his gaze. Something clicked in his mind and he crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned one hip against the table. Max had never really told them what Pierce had done to him in the white room and he had never asked, knowing it was off-limits. "Pierce."
Max tensed up, hating that the man's name could still pull this reaction out of him. "He had a device… it was like one of those virtual reality visors… I don't know if it was because the technology was that good or if it was because of whatever they were shooting in my veins…"
"You don't have to tell me this stuff, Max."
He shook his head and swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue. "I felt her die, Michael. Because of me." He stared out through the window, his gaze focused on something he hoped Michael would never see.
Max's revelation about the white room and what Pierce had done to him was all he needed to put him back in the UFO center the day he had killed the agent. He had stood there, watching Max as he healed Kyle… saving a life… giving someone he didn't even like a second chance. He had looked down at his hands and then at the dead agent lying on the floor and somewhere deep inside, in a part of himself he hadn't recognized, he had felt a sense of satisfaction. It had taken time for him to come to grips with that feeling. Initially he had felt sick; disturbed that he had felt something remarkably close to pleasure at taking an enemy's life. Over time he had learned to accept that it was the soldier in him. Rath had been a cold, calculating, seasoned soldier and his actions that day had awakened that part of him. It wasn't something he liked, but he knew it was something that was necessary. "I'm glad he's dead," he said finally.
"So am I," Max admitted after a moment.
The silence in the cabin was broken only by the constant drip of the faucet that he hadn't quite turned all the way off and the second hand ratcheting its way around the bedside clock. "I've never experienced what you described and I never want to. What I have experienced is the paralyzing fear that one of these days Maria's gonna get hurt… and I'm gonna be the one who's responsible for it."
Max shook his head. "Michael, you'd never hurt her. She's never been safer than when she's with you."
"Yeah, great life I've given her, Maxwell. Stay with me and run for your life… stay in Roswell and maybe be safe."
"Do you really think she would've been safer staying in Roswell? If nothing else, they would've had her on association with the rest of us."
He snorted derisively, ignoring the truth in Max's statement. "Shit like what happened last night? Do you know how easily she could get hurt? All I've gotta do is think it and it happens… I blow shit up. And last night? Last night she tried to get between us and if one of us had swung she would've gotten hit." He shook his head. "I can't have her putting herself at risk like that."
"You'd protect her with your life, Michael. Do you think she doubts that?"
His hands dropped to his sides, clenching and unclenching for a moment before moving to curl around the edge of the table. "No. She knows that without a doubt."
"You've gotta trust her to know when to get involved."
"I trust her, but knowing when to get involved," he chuckled gruffly and shook his head. "She leads with her heart and if there's one thing I've learned it's that her heart and common sense are rarely on the same page." He sighed and dropped his gaze to the floor. "I made her promise me she wouldn't get between me an' anyone else again."
"Made her promise, huh?"
Michael snorted. "Yeah, and when she promised she meant it. Put us in another situation like last night though and her heart's gonna override that promise."
"She just has your best interest at heart, Michael." He could see the argument building and he shook his head. "All she can do is try her best and maybe we can help her along by not letting ourselves end up in that situation again."
He nodded. "Think we can do that?"
"I think we can if we follow your advice." He smiled as he folded the dishtowel and draped it over the drying rack. "It was actually pretty sound."
Michael glanced up at Max and smirked. "I gave you sound advice?"
"Yeah, you told me if we just stick together we're gonna make it. Remember that?"
Their talk in Vegas, he realized. But all he said was, "Vaguely."
Max leaned back against the sink and braced his hands on the edge. "I haven't been very good about giving you a hand with makin' the decisions, but uh… you haven't asked me either." He shrugged when Michael shot an, are you kidding me look at him. "I'm not tryin' to put this on you. I just… any time you've asked for an opinion you've turned to Kyle."
Michael's right thumb tapped against the table as he went over what Max had just said. He had relied on Kyle and not just once or twice. It was becoming second nature to take Kyle's opinions into consideration. When had that happened? When Max backed out on you, his conscience spoke up. "Because you were mentally MIA and Kyle was willing to step up to the plate."
"Did you ever think about asking me?"
"No."
Max bit his bottom lip as he nodded.
"Quit beatin' a dead horse, Maxwell. It's done and over. You don't want the throne, the crown, whatever… fine. I don't give a shit about the king. Maybe I did in another life, but I'm not livin' that other life." He met Max's gaze directly. "And neither are you."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Kyle's thumb was steadily punching the 'up' button on the remote, flipping through the generous selection of what obviously had to be the top 10 channels in these parts. Why else would anyone have only 10 channels? He made yet another pass without finding a single thing worth watching and he dropped the remote on the cushion beside him as he glanced towards the bathroom. What were they doing in there anyway? They'd been in there for like 15 minutes already!
He sighed loudly and it went unnoticed. Or ignored. "Hey, a guy could bust a gut out here, ya know?" That also went unnoticed. Or ignored. Thank God the bathroom was so small! There was no way the girls could last much longer in their meeting. That he hadn't been invited to. His bored gaze moved around the room and landed on a couple of board games. "Board games for a very bored man," he muttered.
He got to his feet to look at the two games. The one on top had a note stuck to it: missing marbles. "Well, you can't play Hungry Hungry Hippo without marbles," he muttered. How could anyone lose all of the marbles for the game? "Oh, well." He made a face at the next one, but picked it up and carried it over to the loveseat. He sat down and balanced it on his lap, lifting the top off and setting the game up on the coffee table. He flipped the top over to read the instructions printed on the underside.
"Hmph." He shuffled the deck of colored cards and placed them in the designated place on the board. "Okay, so we pick one of these little gingerbread people…" he grabbed two, inspecting them carefully before placing them on the space marked Start. He hummed to himself as he continued reading. "Youngest player goes first." He picked up the two playing pieces and held up one and then the other. "So, which one of us is the youngest?" His gaze moved between the two pieces and after a moment he placed them on the board again, setting one ahead of the other.
He leaned forward and lifted up the first card. "Picture card means…" he glanced over the rules again. "Player one moves to the first picture spot either before or behind the start spot. Well, that's stupid," he mumbled. "Why would you go backwards from the starting point? Okay, Kyle, the goal is to get to the Candy Castle and win Candy Land." He shook his head and placed the first player on the designated spot and then reached for the next card. "Another picture card? Really?" He threw it on top of the other card and moved gingerbread piece number two over to join the first one. "Well, we're not gonna make it to the Candy Castle this way. Which one of you shuffled this deck?"
"Um, Kyle, what're you doing?"
He turned his head when Michael and Max walked in. They were like human… hybrid lock-picks, he thought with an internal eye roll. "Just occupying myself while waiting for the girls to conclude their meeting." He shrugged when that earned him an odd look from Michael. "Good to see the two of you didn't kill each other." He motioned to the board game and waved them over. "C'mon, it's not too late for you to get in on this action." He pulled a five dollar bill out of his pocket and dropped it in the center of the game board. "Max, looks like it's your turn."
"What? I'm not playing… what is that anyway?"
Michael dug a five out of his pocket and threw it into the pot before leaning over and snatching a fudge-striped cookie out of the open package next to Kyle's left elbow. "Satellite out?" he asked, nodding at the television that had been left on the weather channel.
"No, I just like the weather. Fascinating stuff," he deadpanned. "C'mon, Evans, what're you waitin' for?"
Max checked his pockets, finally pulling out four ones, three quarters, two dimes and a nickel that he deposited on top of the rest of the money.
Michael and Kyle both made a production of leaning in to look at the money Max had just laid down.
"Wife's holdin' the purse strings, huh?" Kyle asked.
Michael laughed out loud and the two high-fived each other when Max just grabbed one of the chairs from the kitchen table and brought it over to join them.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Maria was wedged between the toilet and the sink, the edge of the countertop digging into her hip. She craned her head around to take a look at herself in the mirror. Her hair and makeup was picture perfect and she snorted softly at the thought that it was a perk she'd miss if she wasn't on the run.
Isabel was busy trying to encourage Liz to let her change her look up a little but the brunette was digging her heels in. The taller girl finally just made a sound of impatience and waved her hand over Liz giving her an instant makeover. She gave her a touch of eyeliner along with a soft pink blush that just popped with the cinnamon color on her lips.
Liz smiled weakly at her image in the mirror. It wasn't that it didn't look good because it did. Something her sister-in-law would point out if she dared to mention it. But she usually made changes that were more subtle and not quite so obvious.
Maria tried to squeeze past Isabel and Liz in an effort to get to the door. "You look wonderful, Chica. C'mon, live a little spicy." She grunted when she realized that squeezing wasn't so much an option as a challenge. "God, I can't breathe. I need to open a window."
Isabel rolled her eyes and shook her head. "There's no window, only…" She lunged as well as she could when Maria reached for the dreaded fan switch. "No! Whatever you do, don't turn that thing on. It sounds like a jet taking off in here."
"Oww," Maria exclaimed when Isabel nearly relocated her windpipe with her elbow. She froze and the girls looked at each other when a sound none of them had heard in a long time suddenly came from the other side of the door. Her eyes narrowed and she forgot about her throat as she turned her head, straining to hear the sound again. "Was that… did I just hear Michael… was he laughing?"
Liz shrank back when her sister-in-law focused on her again. "What?" she asked hesitantly.
"Time's up. What's it gonna be?"
The smaller girl took one last glance at her reflection, thinking about it long enough to make Isabel roll her eyes again. "I guess it's not too much."
"Vanilla and oatmeal," Isabel muttered under her breath. "Forget spicy, just stick with sweet."
Liz stuck her tongue out at her and reached for the doorknob.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"No, you can't make that move," Max insisted. "You're cheating!"
Kyle shook his head, denying the accusation as he set his piece down with purpose.
"Cheater! The stupid instructions say you have to take the picture spot closest to you." Michael wrestled with Kyle for the piece and in a single move that he hadn't seen coming Kyle had him pinned to the floor.
"It is the closest," Kyle argued. "It's all about perception."
Max leaned over, grinning at Michael's reddened face. "I don't think your point was clear enough." He nodded at Kyle. "That's 160 pounds of Greco-roman wrestler right there," he pointed out helpfully.
The hybrid glare was in full force. "You wanna gimme a hand here, Maxwell?"
Kyle just rolled his eyes as he leaned back to release Michael, not expecting it when Max plowed into him. Michael scrambled over him, nearly squashing them both as he and Max fought to pry the little gingerbread playing piece out of his hand.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Isabel, Maria and Liz squeezed into the doorway between the living area and her bedroom, their disbelieving gazes locked on the guys.
Were they wrestling? Why?
Maria rolled her eyes at that thought. Why did guys do most of the things they did? There was no telling how they ended up in these situations when two or more of them were together. She popped free of the pileup in Isabel's doorway and crossed the room to crouch down next to the guys, careful to avoid the tangle of arms and legs that were jerking in every direction as the guys fought over… What was it? "What're you boys doing down here?"
"Maria, get that piece," Michael mumbled around the hand Kyle had shoved in his face.
Max grunted when one of the guys elbowed him in the ribs as he struggled to keep Kyle's arm down while Michael did his best to pry his fingers open. "Just get that piece from him. He's trying to cheat!"
"That's what the three of you are fighting over?" She rested her elbow on one of her knees and cupped her chin in her hand as she looked at Kyle. "Are Buddhists allowed to cheat?"
"I wasn't cheating."
"Go ahead and give her that line of bull about perception," Michael grumbled as his fingertips hooked around one of the tiny gingerbread arms. He popped it free of Kyle's grasp and it flew across the room, hopping across the carpet and bouncing to a stop at Isabel and Liz's feet.
She hid a smile as she looked at three guys who were more relaxed than she had seen them in longer than she could remember. But it was Michael's expression as the guys got to their feet, pushing and shoving each other that held her captivated. "So, what took you boys so long to get up here?"
"Someone forgot to do the dishes."
She just rolled her eyes at him. "You're the one who got up and made a mess out of the kitchen."
"You seemed to be enjoying the fruits of my labor." He motioned around the room. "You guys do anything useful?"
"Well, while you boys were busy staring each other down, we were busy planning our next move. Kyle called Dean and he's got things moving with the van. Oh, and Isabel, Liz and I have decided that without our input things have been a mess so we'll now be actively involved with the decision making."
Michael shot a what the hell look at Kyle.
"Oh, no, don't look at me like that," he protested. "I had nothin' to do with their," he lifted his hands, making bunny quotes, "plan."
A wry smile lifted Max's lips as he reached up to scratch his neck. "Um, didn't you go up to the house to call Dean about the van?"
"Well, someone had to do it before the two of you turned that ice field out there back into a lake." He leaned over in front of Isabel to pick up the playing piece. "Somethin' like that would kinda blow our cover." Kyle walked over to the guys, tossing the little gingerbread piece up in the air and catching it again. "I've got some good news. Shane was so interested in seeing the van that Dean drove out to get him last night. He took a look at it and apparently he liked it enough that we've got a meeting with him and Dean at the dealership at noon today."
Michael rolled his shoulders and snatched the playing piece out of the air when Kyle walked past him, preening. "So, made a plan with the chicks, Valenti?"
That propelled Isabel out of the doorway across the room. "Chicks are baby birds, Michael. We," she indicated herself, Liz and Maria, "are intelligent women of the 21st century who now have a say in the decisions affecting the group."
He snorted at that, which earned him a look from Isabel. He could feel the lack of tension in the room, something that he knew was the result of him and Max being back on track.
Max glanced at his sister before turning his attention back to Kyle. "So, what's the plan?"
"Are you deaf, Evans?" He held his hands up, palms facing the ceiling as he looked between Max and Michael. "Um, Kyle doesn't have a plan. Kyle wasn't involved in the discussion. They went in the bathroom and locked the door. You haven't had the pleasure of seeing our postage-size bathroom, but trust me when I tell you there wasn't room for me in there too."
Isabel snorted. "Translation: No room for all that hot air."
Michael smirked. "Sounds like the honeymoon's over, Valenti. Quit avoiding the subject and just tell us what the plan is."
Maria looked up at him when he came to rest beside her. "We've decided we should all go to the dealership to decide on the van's fate."
He shook his head. "That bathroom must've been severely low on oxygen. There aren't enough seats in Edward's truck for all of us unless some of you are riding in the bed." He caught Maria's all-knowing grin when Liz spoke up as she walked over to Max.
"Actually we thought we'd just ask Julia if we could borrow her car."
That got the boys to start snickering. Yeah, like that plan was ever gonna work. The three of them exchanged similar looks of humor at the girls' obviously bad plan.
"So, um… just to get this straight, you're gonna ask Edward and Julia if we can just have the keys to their car to take a 12-mile drive over to the next town." Kyle's expression was incredulous. "And you think they're just gonna hand 'em over after knowin' our little Miami group for all of four days?"
Michael snorted and elbowed him. "I feel a bet comin' on, Valenti. One you can't cheat on."
Isabel glared at them. "That's exactly what we're gonna do."
"I think I'll stay outta that bet," Max said, shaking his head. "I'd rather not bet against them."
"Wuss." Michael was already reaching for his wallet. "Twenty sound good?"
"Throw it down, Guerin. Easy money."
The girls started talking about their plan more in-depth while the guys discussed the rules of the bet. The six of them finally had the opportunity to just enjoy each other's company without the contention that had plagued them for so long and they took advantage of the moment.