Eric dragged his feet along the seashore not caring that each new wave of water sloshed over the top of his sandals and up through the bottom seam of his denim jeans. Elizabeth had told him to wear beach shorts but seeing as how he wasn't prepared to classify this as a beach by any stretch of the imagination, he elected to wear something that was suitable for any occasion. And to help drive his point home, he'd gone to walk out of the house in his dress shoes but predictably, Peter had chased him back in to change into 'more appropriate' footwear.

Eric checked the time on his watch and sighed deeply as he stared down at the murky grey water as it retreated back to the depths of the North Atlantic Ocean. At some point the water would transform and clear of its muck and pollution as it melded with the waters of Las Palmas de Gran Canaria off the coast of Morocco where he'd spent two wonderful months, soaking up the summer sun and splashing in the aqua blue waters of their island resort. It's where he'd mastered shallow water snorkelling and learnt off Nicarlan, one of the locals, how to spearfish. Eric's eyes looked longingly out into the water. There was no snorkelling to be had on this beach, not even any swimming for that matter. Most people were smart enough to decide it was no longer warm enough to bother coming to the seaside and were happy to spend their Sunday afternoon doing something far more interesting indoors.

Turning and trudging up the beach towards the boardwalk, Eric imprinted his sole pattern right over the top of the other imprints he'd already left on one of his many passes along the same path. The sand was gritty and discoloured and it reminded him too much of where he was…and where he wished he'd rather be. Eric wondered what Elizabeth and Peter would think about the pure white sand granules on Laylette Beach on the Montenegro border or the picturesque coastline in front of their medieval Sardinian villa. As he moved up the beach, he kicked the caked mud off his sandals by hitting his feet together so by the time he had reached the boardwalk, only a small amount remained stuck to the shoes and between his toes.

He turned once more and marched purposely along the well-worn boards until he reached his target.

"Can we go now?"

"No."

"Can I go now? I'm happy to make my own way home, no need for you two to have to leave this…" Eric waved his hand to take in the surrounds, "…paradise."

"No," Peter stated in an unperturbed tone while he continued to sip from his soda can.

"Isn't it enough that you force me to spend my Saturday mornings enduring an uncomfortable pseudo family reunion? You demand I come out every Sunday afternoon to participate in…" Eric shook his head, "whatever you want to call this."

"Today it's called a family picnic."

"Eric sweetie," Elizabeth held up a small Tupperware container filled with the leftovers, "How about another sandwich or cupcake before I pack them away?"

"No, thank you…but since I'm not family, doesn't that mean I get an exemption?"

"No, you don't." Peter took a neatly cut egg sandwich triangle out of the pro-offered container and put the whole thing in his mouth. "Now if you don't what anything else to eat, why not go and help Scott-Allen with his castle or maybe you know, do another couple of laps to walk off some more of your aggitation." Originally it had been Elizabeth's suggestion, but every time the kid stopped on his way past to complain about everything from the annoying flies to the colour of the sky, Peter had encouraged him to continue on his way stating that the exercise and fresh air was good for him.

Eric glanced up the length of the boardwalk and an idea sparked in his brain resulting in a satisfying grin. "Maybe I might, and maybe I might forget to turn down at the designated lamppost and instead just keep walking. Maybe I might keep walking and maybe I might make it all the way home before I realise that I went past your infantile set of boundaries."

"And maybe," Peter matched the boy's challenging tone, "when I catch up with you at the second lamppost, maybe my hand might just connect with your backside and maybe it might just keep doing that all the way back here."

Eric huffed audibly and glared at the man, half tempted to see if he actually could catch up with him by the time he reached the second marker. Eric doubted the agent had even half his physical ability and would most likely collapse holding his left arm, long before he even came close. It really would be no contest.

"Sweetie, how about you go down and tell Scottie he's got ten more minutes and then we'll all go and get an ice-cream?"

"I don't want an ice-cream."

El took in a deep calming breath without it being too noticeable. "What would you like then? Maybe a pretzel or a donut?"

Eric gazed back over his shoulder. Some of the store-fronts were already boarded up in preparation for the winter but there were still a number of choices. He wouldn't have minded an ice-cream. When they'd come down for a visit the month before, he'd ended up having a particularly delicious, pistachio flavoured sundae from the custard shop, but after what he'd just said he couldn't possibly shame himself by asking for even anything close. His eyes wondered around a little more before settling on…

"What I want is a go on that."

Both Elizabeth and Peter followed the boy's finger as it pointed beyond the boardwalk shops, across to the towering, old style wooden roller coaster.

"You want to go on the Cyclone?" Elizabeth raised her brows.

"Yeah. I do. Is that not allowed? Is my choice restricted to one of the crappy food selections that are offer?"

"No," Peter shrugged. "If you want to go for a ride on the Cyclone instead of an ice-cream, then that's your choice."

"Wow!" Eric smiled sarcastically. "You've finally decided I'm old enough to make a choice. It's an epic moment, we should all take a photo."

"Why don't you," Elizabeth spoke quickly before her husband could react, "go tell Scottie he's go to start packing up in five."

"Fine," Eric sighed as he jumped off the boardwalk and onto the sand, following the trail his sandals had made on all the prior passings. "Hey squirt," he announced at he approached the little boy, "you've got five minutes and then I'm smashing that thing into oblivion."

Scottie looked up from under his ridiculously oversized floppy hat and looked glum, "Use can mash it, Air-wick. It nots berry good." He upended the bucket he'd been filling and a small pile of sand was revealed when he pulled the bucket away. "Sees. It nots good."

Eric dropped down onto his knees and took the bucket from the little guy's hand. "It isn't working, squirt cause you are using dry sand. If you're going to make anything half decent, you need to use wet sand. Look," Eric began scooping out a deep hole in the sand until he reached the damper levels, "see down here?"

Scottie nodded.

"Well, this is the sand you need to use." He passed the bucket back. "Fill it up with this stuff."

Scottie picked up his little blue shovel and dug it into the sand.

"No," Eric took the shovel and tossed it off to the side. "Only amateurs use a shovel. Men like us, we use our hands. Plus, it's faster."

"Okays," Scottie started to scoop the sand with his hand and soon had the bucket filled.

"Now, when you turn it over, squirt, you need to be fast. If you're too slow, the sand's gonna just all spill out and you'll have to start over. Got it?"

Scottie nodded then started tipping the bucket over as quickly as he could. Eric reached out and helped him for the last little bit when it looked like it was going to tip out of his tiny hands. Scottie started to pull the bucket up but Eric stopped him. "Wait. This is the part where you will need your shovel."

"Okays." Scottie reached behind and collect the shovel. "Whats for?"

Eric tapped the top of the bucket with his finger. "For any truly great sand castle, you need to tap the top of the bucket twice with your shovel. If you don't, when you pull the bucket off, it's just going to be a nothing but a pile of sand, so go ahead, tap."

Scottie tapped the top of the bucket as instructed then carefully pulled free the bucket. "Wows!" he exclaimed upon seeing his creation that had taken the perfect form of the sand bucket. "It just likes a castle."

"It will be as soon as you put a flag on it."

"A flags?"

"Yeah. You should know, every great castle needs a flag. Here," Eric passed over a little twig and watched on as Scottie stuck it into the top. "Perfect."

Scottie smiled happily. "Wets make anodder onse, Air-wick."

Eric checked the time before glancing up the beach to where Elizabeth and Peter were now standing. "No can do. We've gotta go now, see."

Scottie looked in the direction of the boardwalk and caught his dad beckoning with the two-finger point. "Arrr," he wined. "Cant's we make just ones morw?"

"Nuh uh. Come on, get your things before Peter decides you're taking too long and comes down here to get you himself."

Scottie clambered to his feet and brushed the sand from his shorts. "I is coming."

"Good decision," Eric did his best Peter impersonation voice and both boys laughed. "You're mom said you could get an ice-cream."

"Yummy," Scottie cheered as he bundled up his bucket and spade. "I is gonna gets the ones uses gots last ime."

"Great," Eric grumbled while hoping that maybe at least he'd get to have a small taste of Scottie's.

As the boys started to move off towards the boardwalk, Scottie turned back and pointed at his castle. "Use cans mash it now, Air-wick."

Eric gazed over his shoulder and paused while he stared pensively at the small cylindrical creation with its evenly spaced turrets circling the top rim. For a moment, he contemplated the symbolism behind stamping on the little sand castle with his big, powerful foot but in the end decided that it wouldn't give him the satisfaction he so badly desired. "Nah, let's just leave it. Won't be long before the tide comes in anyways. After that, the castle, the flag and more importantly, all the tiny people who live there will be washed away into complete annihilation."

# # #

"One child ticket, please." Peter slid six dollars under the grill to the young male attendant.

The attendant's eyes dropped down to take in Eric, who was standing beside Peter. "How old is the child? Under twelves need to be accompanied by an adult."

"I'm fourteen…ignoramus. The only child around here is-"

"Eric," Peter warned with a stern finger. "Don't."

"Whatever," Eric grumbled as he continued to stare at the idiot behind the counter.

"He's eleven," Peter amended as he reached back into his pocket for his wallet. "I'll go with him."

The attendant made no further comment as he slid the change and the tickets back under the grill. Eric snatched them up and started to walk off before Peter had a chance but Peter soon grabbed the youngster's arm, spun him sideways and walloped him fair across his butt.

Eric's eyes immediately darted around to check if anyone had seen but fortunately the few people who were in the vicinity, seemed to be caught up in their own private little carryings on.

Peter waited till the boy's eyes trailed back and locked with his. "What have I told you about uncalled for snide remarks and insults?"

"Lots of things. So many in fact it's difficult to recall-"

"Eric," Peter warned, "do you need another swat on your backside to help you to remember?"

Eric's cheeks blushed as he checked around once more, this time to make sure no one had heard.

"Eric…" Peter prompted impatiently.

"If you haven't got anything nice to say," Eric ground out between clenched teeth, "don't say anything at all."

"Nothing at all, Eric. If you can't possibly think of anything decent to say, keep your lips pressed together and just smile nicely."

"M mm m mm mmm."

Peter pursed his own lips and glared at the cheeky young brat while deciding if he shouldn't simply pull the boy across his hip and deliver another round of well-deserved spanks.

"What?" Eric looked up with those same piercing blue eyes that Neal had always resorted to when he was trying to act all innocent even after it was evident he was as guilty as all hell.

"One more-"

"Have you already been on and we missed you?" Elizabeth appeared holding Scottie's shoulder with one hand and an ice-cream sundae in the other.

"No, you didn't miss us, we haven't been on yet."

"We?" Elizabeth smiled at her husband. "You're going on it too?"

"Yeah-"

"Babies like myself have to be 'accompanied by an adult.'"

Elizabeth ignored the sarcastic explanation and nodded towards the closest bench seat. "I'm just going to sit over there with Scott-Allen before one of us ends up with ice-cream all down our fronts."

"That sounds like a good idea," Peter indicated the handful Elizabeth was struggling to clasp. "You sure you got a big enough sundae?"

Elizabeth laughed, "I asked for a large so you and I could share it but I think the lady misheard and gave me some absurdly enormous family-sized bucket."

Peter chuckled too as he lead his young charge in the direction of the Cyclone entrance. "In that case, there better be some left for me when I get back."

Because it was later in the day and fairly quite due to the cooler weather, Peter and Eric had the coaster all to themselves and got to sit in the front seat. Eric had never been on a wooden coaster before and he was fascinated by the seemingly archaic operations of releasing the coaster through the operator pulling back a large wooden leaver. As the coaster rounded the bottom and began its ascent, Eric hoped that at some point along the way, the maintenance people had upgraded the wheels and track system enough so they didn't go flying off at the first sharp bend. He glanced across at Peter to see if he appeared concerned but the guy seemed to be relaxed enough to be twisting his body around to see if he could spot the other two watching from their bench vantage point.

"You okay?" Peter asked of his companion without taking his eyes away from scanning the area below.

"Yeah, of course, but what about you? If you're gonna pee your pants or something can you give me a warning first so I can scoot over some more."

Peter turned back enough so he could roll his eyes at the kid. "The reason I asked was because we've been down here what, three other times in the past couple of months and each time I asked you if you wanted to have a ride and each time you came up with a reason why you couldn't."

"Maybe those reasons were justified."

"Or maybe you were just a little nervous about coming on it?"

"Obviously not." Eric lifted his hands, palms up. "See?"

"Yeah," Peter nodded, "I see."

The coaster completed its ascent and without being able to help himself, Eric went, "Oh, wow!" when he saw the view from the top.

Peter smiled, "Pretty amazing, isn't it? I never lose that feeling of being on top of the world when the Cyclone makes it up to this point."

"You've been on this before?" Eric was genuinely surprised.

"Yeah, of course. We live less than a ten minute drive from here. Of course I've been on it beeeeeeefffoooooooorrreee." Peter's words were left behind as the coaster screamed down its first descent and spun around the bend before shooting back up again.

Eric cheered and laughed loudly as he tried to keep his hands in the air and Peter laughed too. But not because he was also having just as much fun, but because in the six months he'd been tasked with caring for the troubled youngster, it was the first time he'd ever heard him laugh.