A/N: From Wikipedia: "Ocean Front Property" is a song written by Dean Dillon, Hank Cochran and Royce Porter and recorded by American country music artist George Strait. It was released in December 1986 as the first single and title track from his album of the same name.

On the LetsBuyGold site, the jewelry depicted in this chapter is described as "925 Sterling Silver Natural Opal & Pink Tourmaline Womens Trilogy Ring" and sells for $129. According to the In2013Dollars site, that would have been about $90 in 2005 dollars.

Chapter Eleven

Emma surveyed the apartment with more than a twinge of sadness. She'd never been big on accumulating things. If asked, she'd probably chalk it up to the number of foster homes she'd lived in before striking out on her own. Each time a placement had come to an end, she'd find herself waiting for her case worker, all her worldly goods beside her in a large plastic garbage bag. She'd learned to travel light and form few sentimental attachments. The only thing that stayed with her through thick and thin was the baby blanket she'd been found with, the one concrete link she had to her birth parents. Whoever they were. Otherwise, she seldom had much beyond a few changes of clothes and a toothbrush. Sometimes, she'd kept some school supplies, too; pencils, notebooks, and geometry sets didn't take up that much space.

When she'd moved into this apartment, it had come furnished with a bed, dresser, table, four chairs, six built-in shelves, a stove a fridge and a reading lamp. There hadn't been much space to allow for more items and Emma hadn't felt she needed to add much anyway. Still, the walls looked bare now that she'd taken down the Sonic Youth and Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone posters.

She turned to Neal. "I guess this is it."

Neal nodded soberly. "Hey. It doesn't have to be forever. Ray said if we come back, he'll always have a place for you."

"Maybe, but I doubt this apartment will just sit here waiting for me." She winced. She'd been clinging to the possibility of coming back, too, but once she'd made up her mind to head back to New England, she'd realized that she probably wasn't going to return so quickly. "Besides," she went on, "Ray also said he hoped I wouldn't need it." She turned to look at him. "You're sure you're okay with pulling up stakes and coming with me? I mean, I'm glad you are, but I don't want you to feel like I'm dragging you clear across the country."

Neal smiled. "Nah, the summers are too hot here. And," he added, "I kind of like being near the water."

Emma tilted her head. Then, softly, she began to sing a song that had been playing on a CD in Ray's car the day he'd taken her to see Dani.

"I've got some ocean front property in Arizona
From my front porch, you can see the sea
I've got some ocean front property in Arizona…"

Neal joined her on the last line, badly off-key:

"If you'll buy that, I'll throw the Golden Gate in free."

He flung an arm about her shoulders and repeated the lyric. "You're not dragging me anywhere, Emma," he said, his expression turning serious. "He's my kid, too."

Emma let him pull her closer. "What if I can't find him? I've been looking for my parents for a lot longer and never found a trace?"

"Yeah, but you also don't know where to start looking for them. It's different with the baby." He frowned. "Well, kid, anyway; he'd be… what, about four now?"

"Five on August fifteenth," Emma replied in a small voice.

"You ask me, it's got to be easier to pick up a trail less than five years cold than one almost twenty-three. Plus, it's not like you don't know how to find people these days, Nancy Drew."

A small smile played on Emma's lips as she leaned into his embrace. "Yeah."

Emma fought to keep her voice steady as she made her goodbye to Ray. "Thanks for everything," she finished. "I don't know what I'd be doing right now if you hadn't hired me three, no… wait." She was suddenly flustered, as the realization hit her. "It'd be four years exactly if I stuck it out until this Wednesday."

Ray shrugged. "Well, if you want to give me another three days, just to round it off…"

"Don't tempt me," Emma said. "I feel like if we don't go now, we never will. Or I never will. Or…" There was a catch in her voice and she added, almost in a whisper, "Maybe I shouldn't."

"Hey," Ray said. "Hey, you'll do fine. Oh, and Charlie came through with something last night, after you left." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slippery sheet of fax paper, folded in four. "Here."

Emma unfolded it. "A Place for Me, Little Angels, Precious Treasures…" She stared up at Ray. "Is this what I think it is?"

"All the agencies Ross Anderson is known to have worked with from 2000 through 2002. Fifteen, all together. Now, when the story hit, they came under fire, too. Charlie told me that at least half of them had to close. But since most of the employees probably had no clue what was going on, it's probable that many are still working in the field, just for other agencies."

"Fifteen agencies in six states," Emma said, looking at the addresses. "This is going to be like looking for a bunch of needles in a lot of really spread out haystacks."

"I know," Ray nodded. "Good thing there's a dedicated skip-trace wizard on the case, huh?" Seeing Emma's expression, he went on, "I know it won't be easy, Emma. And you're right about needles and haystacks. But at least you now know which fields to start looking for the haystacks in." He took a breath. "I know you'll find him one day, Emma."

Emma swallowed hard. Neal put an arm around her and she gave him a watery smile. Then she held out her hand to Ray. "It's been… really great here," she managed, as Ray clasped it.

"Ditto," Ray said. When he released her hand, Neal extended his. He shook that one, too. "You guys are going to do fine," he said.

"Hope so," Neal replied.

Emma nodded.

"Oh and once you find your son, if you ever decided to take a family vacation to some little town in Arizona about seventy-five miles away from the world-class golf courses of Phoenix, well, odds are, I'll still be here."

"We'll look you up," Emma assured him. She took a breath. "Okay. Okay, if Neal and I are going to do this, I guess we'd better get started." She shook her head. "I never left a place I wanted to come back to before."

"And…?"

Her smile was even more watery this time. "It sucks."

"You'll make it," Ray assured her. "You're tough that way."

"He's right, you know," Neal said. "C'mon. Herbie's loaded and gassed up. If we forgot anything, we can buy it on the way."

"As long as I don't have to put a watermelon under my shirt this time," Emma muttered.

"Nah, it's my turn to try that."

It was a stupid joke, but perfectly timed. Emma burst into laughter. Then she had to dart into the back of the office to use the bathroom before making one final goodbye.

She steeled herself not to look behind her as they drove off. She had to start looking ahead now.

They reached Amarillo some ten hours later and checked into the 1Hotel off of I-40. It was amazing how tiring it could be just sitting in a car and driving, but neither Emma nor Neal felt like they had the energy to do much more than sign the registrar, toss their bags into the room, and collapse onto the twin beds.

"It's barely 8PM and I feel like I could sleep for weeks," Emma groaned.

"Have pity on someone without your superpower and tell me the truth," Neal smirked. "Did you get any sleep at all last night?"

"Uh, I think so…?" Emma hedged. The truth was she'd closed her eyes and tossed and turned and steadfastly refused to check the time. She thought she must have dozed off at some point. In fact, she was pretty sure she'd had some dream about running down a city street chasing after a whole bunch of toddlers, some with fair hair, some dark, knowing that one of them was her son but having no idea how to tell which. Or maybe, she'd just been letting her imagination run a little too wild. Why not both, she asked herself with sarcastic humor. Both worked.

"But you're not sure," Neal translated. "Hey. You're stressed, you're scared, and you're exhausted. Triple threat. The good news? We're probably not getting back on the road for another twelve hours, so you've got plenty of time to settle the sleep debt. Oh, uh, we should probably eat something or put our food in the fridge if we aren't." So saying, he walked over to the small bar fridge and opened it. "No freezer," he added, not really surprised. "Guess we'll have to stock up on ice once the packs warm up."

Emma nodded. "Pass me the egg salad?"

Neal rummaged in their cooler and handed her the sandwich she'd asked for. "Since when do you like egg salad?" he asked. "I thought you were strictly a cheese-lover."

"Grilled cheese," Emma corrected. "Hot, toasted, not-rewarmed-in-a-microwave grilled cheese. But since there was no way I was going to be able to keep that fresh for ten hours," she unwrapped the sandwich, "egg it is."

Neal shrugged. Then he pulled out a Kaiser bun and Emma could see the edges of some pale pink sliced deli meat hanging out from it. "First one to finish gets the first shower," he announced, taking a large bite.

Emma realized that she already had a slight head start in that department. She grinned, weariness temporarily forgotten. "You're on!"

When Emma came out of the shower, Neal was lying on the bed, watching TV. "You could do this stuff," Neal greeted her.

She sat down beside him. "What stuff?" She frowned. The footage, while professional, had a sort of look to it that was a bit too natural for Hollywood. "Is this some sort of reality show or a documentary?"

"It's called Dog, the Bounty Hunter," Neal said. "He goes after bail-jumpers and brings them back to stand trial."

Emma watched for a few minutes, before turning to Neal with a frown. "So he's a cop?"

Neal shook his head. "Nope. Bounty hunter, like I told you."

"Yeah," Emma said, "I got that, but it can't be legal for just anyone to go hunting people down. I mean, isn't that like… kidnapping?"

"Kind of, I guess," Neal admitted. "But it is legal. Basically, when a bail bondsman, uh… bondsperson… puts up the money for a defendant, there's an agreement that the defendant shows up for trial. If they don't, it's a breach of contract and the bondsperson is allowed to enforce it. Bounty hunters are enforcers."

"How do you know so much about this?" Emma asked, surprised.

Neal hesitated. "I… A couple of months ago, I asked Ray if he'd train me for PI work like he's done with you. I thought, I don't know, maybe we could be partners or something."

"I had no idea it was something you were thinking about," Emma exclaimed. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because Ray shot me down out of the gate. I mean, he said if I wanted to learn a few things, sure, but I'd never get a license. Not with a felony conviction," he added. "Unlike yours, mine's not a sealed juvie record. Unfortunately."

"That is so messed up," Emma groaned.

"It is what it is," Neal said. "Anyway, he told me that even if I couldn't be a PI, there were a few career options that used part of the same skillset. This was one of them."

The closing credits were rolling. Neal was about to turn the channel when the voiceover said, "Don't go away. Another episode of Dog, the Bounty Hunter is coming right up!"

Emma slid a bit closer to Neal. "I'm game if you are," she suggested. Neal smiled and wrapped an arm around her. As the theme music started, Emma found herself wondering whether she was 'game' for more than just watching another episode. If she couldn't find PI work in New England, maybe this could be an option for both of them…

They drove more than fourteen hours the next day, stopping in Nashville for the night. Over dinner at the Elliston Place Soda Shop (which turned out to serve a lot more than sodas and quite a bit good), Neal seemed uncharacteristically nervous.

"Everything okay?" Emma asked finally.

Neal took another bite out of his hamburger and chewed it a good deal more slowly than he needed to. After he'd finally swallowed and washed it down with a swig of cherry phosphate, he said, "It sort of is and isn't. I mean, I've been wanting to ask you this for a long time. I sort of did, back before everything started going wrong, only I didn't exactly, I don't think…"

"Neal?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to make our… um… living arrangements a little more permanent."

Emma frowned. Ray had warned them that Boston was going to be pricier than Globe by a significant margin. They weren't sure about suburbs in the Boston area. They weren't even sure if they were going to stay in Boston for long; if they couldn't find a trace of their child there, they might keep moving. Meanwhile, though, pooling their savings (Emma's having just been significantly depleted by the cost of 'Herbie') made sense and they'd agreed to look for a place together. "You mean, try to lock into a lease instead of looking for a month-to-month?" Emma asked. "It would mean committing to living in Boston for a year that way, but I guess we could do it like that. I've heard of stuff like landlords giving you a free month if you sign up for a year, though I don't know if it's a thing in Boston…"

"Emma," Neal cut her off, "I… I'm asking you if you want to marry me."

Emma's eyes widened. "I… I-I…" She got up abruptly. "I need some air!" she gasped, almost knocking her chair over as she practically ran out of the restaurant.

There was a non-descript white block of a building on the next street. Neal found her standing in front of it. When he looked up and saw the sign over the door, he winced. "Please tell me you're not trying to tell me something," he said.

Emma's gaze followed his. "The End," she read. Then at once, "No. Oh, crud, no. I didn't mean… I'm sorry. Seriously sorry. I… You just sort of… threw me."

"I'm sorry, too," Neal replied. "I… know what it's like to feel that you're alone and nobody sticks around in your life for long. Plus I'm, uh, kinda madly in love with you," he added, and Emma gave him a sheepish smile and took a step toward him. "I can't picture my life without you, and I wanted to," he hesitated, "state my intentions, I guess."

Emma shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said again. "For running out like that. I… I guess I'm just sort of… used to things being like they are. Marriage, that's…" She hesitated. "I was going to say it was a 'big step', but what we've got now is pretty much already that, minus the piece of paper. I think, if we're meant to be together, maybe we don't need the paper. And if we aren't, the paper won't mean anything anyway."

Neal sighed. "I don't think about my father much these days. Or, at least, I try not to," he amended. "But he was very big on contracts and agreements."

"And you think we need one," Emma supplied.

Neal shook his head. "Actually, my father was very big on contracts and agreements that worked out to his advantage and left the other party feeling cheated. That's not who I want to be," he added softly. "I just wanted to make it clear that I see the two of us together for the long haul. I'm not going to pick up and run out on you in the middle of the night or ditch you by the side of the road. We've fought before and we'll probably fight again, but then we'll kiss and make up and…" He took a breath. "How badly did I just mess up?" he asked faintly.

Emma shook her head. "You didn't. You're right. I'm not used to people hanging around. You're one of the only people who ever slid out of my life and then came back. A-and maybe one day, I'll come around to the idea of getting married, but for now, I'm just not there, yet." She took another breath. "I know. It must sound crazy, but all my life, every time I let my guard down and started thinking, 'Maybe this is it. Maybe I'm really not going back into the system. Maybe this time, I'm going to get adopted…' Just when I started letting myself believe, right when someone outright said they wanted me around for the long haul, that was when someone got laid off and they couldn't afford to keep their house, much less another mouth to feed. Or someone got sick. Or I got caught shoplifting or cutting class and they decided I was too much trouble after all," she added a bit shamefacedly. "It just feels like as long as commitment… isn't on the table, things are great. As soon as it is, that's when it all goes wrong. I don't want to lose you, and somehow? It feels like making us official is going to ruin everything.

Neal nodded slowly. "But you do want us to be… us. Together. Just without the piece of paper."

She gave him a real smile. "If I were going to think about getting married, it would be to you."

"Okay," Neal smiled back. "Okay. Then before we hit Boston, I'm buying you a ring."

"Neal!"

"Not an engagement ring; I get it. I can't afford a diamond now anyway. Just a… a friendship ring. Promise ring. Whatever. It'll fit your finger and it won't come from a Cracker Jack box or a gumball machine, okay? And if, at some point, you feel ready to take things a step further, well, hopefully by then, I'll be able to afford that diamond."

"It could be tourmaline," Emma said, after a moment's hesitation. "Pink tourmaline. Or opal. I looked it up: October has two birthstones. I don't know what either one costs, though."

"We can check into it," Neal said easily. "There's time." He held out his hand to her. She slid hers into it and they made their way slowly down Elliston Place until it curved into West End Avenue. Then they turned around and headed for where they'd parked Herbie and drove back to their motel for the night.

The ring was sterling silver with an opal flanked by two pink tourmalines. The jeweler at the store in Branson, Missouri, called it a trilogy ring. "Pinch-style flush setting, with a thick solid shank," he went on enthusiastically.

Emma didn't think he meant it came with a hidden switchblade.

"He's talking about the band," Neal whispered to her.

"I know," Emma whispered back, lying through her teeth and trusting he wouldn't notice, as she slid it onto her finger.

"It looks amazing," Neal said. "You like?"

"Yeah," Emma replied, sounding a bit dazed. In the display case, she'd thought it was a little clunky, but she had to admit it looked a lot better on her hand. "B-but three stones? Can we afford…?" She stopped, seeing a hurt look in Neal's eyes. "Sorry."

The jeweler cleared his throat. "It retails for ninety-five dollars, but I can let you have it for eighty-five if you're paying cash." He smiled at the surprise on Emma's face. "It's sterling silver, not white gold, but it's still a nice-looking piece."

"Eighty-five?" Neal repeated, pulling out his wallet.

"Plus applicable sales tax, of course." He punched some buttons on his old-fashioned cash register. "Eighty-eight fifty-seven." Neal handed over several bills and collected his change.

"Thanks," Emma said, still sounding dazed. She smiled at the jeweler. "Thanks," she repeated, her fingers brushing over the small stones on the ring. Her ring. Hers.

"Emma?" Neal frowned. "You do like it, right?"

She blinked. "I love it," she said, turning to him with a much warmer smile. "Seriously."

They drove into Boston two days later. By the end of the day, they'd signed a one-year lease on a one-bedroom they could afford in Hyde Park. It wouldn't be available until the first of the month, "But we can live in the car for eleven days," Emma smiled. "It's not like we haven't before."

"Our little TARDIS," Neal nodded. Then, at Emma's confused expression, he laughed. "You know, there's more to British pop culture than Harry Potter. Meanwhile, all you gotta know about a TARDIS is that it's bigger inside than out. Considering that the two of us can sleep comfortably in Herbie," Emma wondered if they were ever going to rename the now-yellow Volkswagen, "I'd say there's definitely something similar going on."

"Maybe," Emma said doubtfully. "But even if there isn't, in less than two weeks, we can move into something more comfortable."

"Looks like we'll be spending the next little while checking out second-hand furniture stores. And maybe IKEA."

"Uh… I'm much better at tearing stuff apart than putting it together," Emma murmured.

"So, you can open the boxes and hand me stuff. If it's cheaper than used, it might be the way to go. And when we're not checking that out," he added, "you've got Ray's list." He took a breath. "I think it's time to start checking into some of those agencies and see if we can't find our kid."