"Grab that, that rope there," Nate instructed, pointing at the rope coiled around one of the posts sticking up from the pier. Nate was jumping onto the back end of the boat having already untied the rear end. Abby stood on the wharf near the fore of the yacht, desperately trying to figure out which of the seemingly hundred ropes Nate was referring to.

She gave up, unhooked the biggest one and leapt gracefully into the boat. "All good!" she exclaimed. Nate was standing by the steery thingy (although Abby was sure there was a technical term) a relaxed smile on his face. With a shake of his head he beckoned her over.

"Ever been sailing before?" He asked as he moved away from the wheel and let her step up. She wrapped her hands around the prongs and let her fingers trace over them a few times before they finally settled.

"Oh yeah," she replied. "I fit it in between my helicopter flying and astronaut training." Nate looked at her with an unimpressed frown. "Never, I have never been sailing," she corrected, dropping the sarcasm.

"Well," he slapped his hands together. The motion was not uncommon for the mastermind but there was an unusual tick about the movement. "PFD's are ah kept under that panelling over there." He pointed to a slab of flooring with a small silver ring attached. "There's also some under the seats down below."

In an exuberant amount of detail, he continued to explain the basics of sailing. Abby remained stationary at the wheel (although Nate had informed her it was called 'the helm'), her eyes darting back and forth and everything Nate was pointing out.

"Am I doing this right?" she asked finally, glancing down uncertainly at the helm. She gave the wheel a slight wiggle back and forth.

"Well, we're not moving, so you can't really be doing it wrong." He let out an uncomfortable laugh, and it was there Abby got a hint of what was going on in his head; he was nervous. About what she wasn't sure but there was something in his half faced, crooked smiles and ums and ah's that didn't fit right with his normal temperament.

"Ha ha," she said in a dry sarcastic tone, choosing to leave the issue alone for now. "But really."

"Yeah, its fine, it's fine," he replied then walked over to the helm. He reached behind Abby and flicked a switch. She looked at him with narrow eyes, questioning his actions.

"Engine." He edged in front of her and took control of the wheel, flicking down a pair of black sunglasses as he did.

"I thought this was a sail boat?" She stepped back as the engine began to rumble.

"It is," he assured. The boat began to drift away from the side and Abby ran over to the edge. She bent over the small metal barrier, letting the light sprays of salt water rain against her face. "But it's a tight marina and the wind's pulling the wrong way so this'll do 'till we get out in the open water."

As the boat begun to chug nicely along the water, Abby pulled herself back onto the deck. "Fair enough." She plopped herself down on the deck, her legs splayed out in front of her and arms supporting her behind her. After a moment of relaxation, she lifted her arm and reached for her back pack. With a laborious heave that suggested it took much more effort than it actually did, she pulled it onto her lap and dug about for the sunscreen.

"So who taught you to sail?" she asked, shaking the bottle up and down and squeezing a large blob of the liquid onto her palm.

"Uh, that would be my father. And when I was really young my grandfather." He stared out into the ocean; the dark glasses obscuring his eyes made it difficult for her to tell if it the situation with his father was what was making him nervous or not. "In between uh, bookmaking and various other criminal activity we used to go out sailing." He waved at a passing sailor who threw Nate a nod as their boat drifted out of the marina.

"That sounds nice," Abby commented as she rubbed the last streak off white off her leg. He looked down at her sitting comfortably on the ground.

"Look, uh," Nate began nervously, staring out into the horizon. "I wanted to apologise for Boston. I was selfish, and I put you in danger and I'm sorry. You have my word it won't happen again."

"You sure? You get tunnel vision sometimes, Nate."

"Very sure, when this all started out, I wasn't in a good place. Dubenich was the start of all that and him coming back made me regress. It's done now and I've moved on."

Crossing her legs beneath her, Abby nodded slowly, contemplating what he'd said. "I'm sorry about your dad," she apologised softly. Nate was silent for a moment before he cleared his throat with a grumbling cough.

"What are you doing down there?" he finally asked, moving on from the conversation; he'd said all he needed to say and she'd heard all she needed to hear.

Making herself comfortable on the deck, Abby looked down at herself then back up at Nate. "Sitting?"

"There's no sitting in sailing." He gestured her up with a heave of his arm. "Come on, we have work to do."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

As night fell, they drew closer to land, choosing to set the anchor down in a small inlet to protect them from any bad weather that might arise overnight. For now though, the water was perfectly calm as the sun over the horizon and turned the sky into a tangerine array. Enjoying the picture in front of them, they sat and ate their dinner of packet pizza and tinned fruit with their legs hanging over the port side.

"So I read that book you leant me," Abby stated, swallowing a bite of the strangely satisfying meal. Ordinarily, they would have been plain and unexciting, but the pure exhaustion she was experiencing dictated otherwise. "The one about social interaction."

"And?" the mastermind asked curiously, stuffing his final bite into his mouth and wiping off his hands, letting the crumbs fall into the water.

"I thought it was really interesting," came her truthful reply.

"Good." He nodded slowly, continuing to stare out into the distance. After a few seconds of slightly uncomfortable silence, he spoke up again. "I'm going to ask Sophie to marry me."

The blunt statement was unexpected, unusually open and, Abby realised, explained why Nate had been somewhat nervous for the trip so far.

"What?" she asked in shock.

"I'm going to propose to Sophie," he reiterated.

"Nate that's amazing!" An ecstatic grin spread across her face. "I'm so excited!"

"Yeah," he agreed as she hugged him around the shoulder, dropping the last of her pizza overboard.

"When, when are you going to do it? How are you going to do it?" the questions spat out of her faster than she could think of them. "Have you got a ring yet? Who else knows?"

Lifting his hand up, he asked her to be quiet. "I don't know, I have a few ideas, I was planning on buying one down at Martha's Vineyard, and so far just you."

"Just me?" she furrowed her brow at him. "Why just me?"

"Because," he looked back out into the horizon. "I need you to just, put the feelers out."

"With Sophie?

"With Sophie," he nodded. "You and her have a unique relationship and I think you should be able to, let me know where she's at."

"She loves you Nate, like really loves you," she reassured.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said in a throaty tone. "But she's also vague." The explanation was vague and yet, strangely descriptive of their mysterious grifter.

"She's going to say yes, Nate."

"Either way I just need you to see what you can find out." He ignored her reassurance. "While I put some other things in motion," he continued in an almost whisper. "What?" He asked as she sat in silence and grinned at him. The smile twinkled in her eyes and spread from ear to ear.

"I'm just so excited."

He rolled his eyes and pulled his legs back onto the deck. Abby remained staring out into the ocean before, remembering something Nate had just said, jumping up and following the mastermind down below.

"Did you say something about buying a ring at Martha's Vineyard?"

"I did."

"We're going to Martha's Vineyard."

"We are."

"Do I get to help you pick out ring?" Another smile crept onto her face.

"That would be the plan."