Shane's nerves were now calmed, thanks to her level-headed husband. His unshakable faith was inspiring; somewhat contagious, even. She had no choice but to trust that somehow, they would find their way out of this entrapment. Otherwise, she would completely lose her sanity.

The couple attempted to exchange a bit of small talk, just to pass the time. When meaningless chit-chat was no longer working to alleviate her worries, Oliver suggested that they play the word game that Shane had initiated when they had been trapped in that bank vault years ago.

"I'll start," he said.

Shane, sitting in a slightly ragged chair on the opposite side of a battered desk, nodded and grinned.

"Door," Oliver said.

"Locked," Shane replied, with a slight eye roll.

"Window."

"None."

"Car."

"I wish."

Oliver laughed. "Not a Norman answer."

She chuckled and he continued their game.

"Season."

"Spring," they said in unison.

"Flowers."

"Roses," she and he said together.

"Morning."

"Latte."

He was three for three.

"Salad."

"Toppings."

Four and counting.

"High."

"Heels."

They laughed at her love of shoes.

"Music."

"Jazz!" she shouted along with him.

"Handmade."

"Valentine," they said together.

"Letter."

"Opener."

Oliver would never forget her attempt to carry a piece of him with her when she thought she had lost him completely.

"Porch."

"Swing."

There simply was no other option.

"Dinner."

"Dancing."

Of course.

"Smoothies."

"Kumbacha."

They shared a smile at all the sweet memories attached to that one word—one that Oliver still struggled to pronounce correctly.

"Serious."

"Chocolate."

Oliver chuckled.

"Sugar."

"Extra!" she exclaimed, and more laughter ensued.

It was their own version of the newlywed game, and as they played, Oliver proved that he knew his new bride well and that they shared a wealth of beautiful, irreplaceable memories together.

"Date."

"Montaldo's," she responded.

"Marriage."

"Vows," Shane said.

"Family."

"Babies."

Oliver stared at her. She shrugged her shoulders. "That's the first thing I thought of."

"How...many?" Oliver asked cautiously, his brows furrowed. For some unspoken reason, they had barely discussed the topic with one another.

Shane pursed her lips, considering the question. "I don't know. You know, I think Rita wants half a dozen."

Oliver nodded, although he wasn't sure what to make of Shane mentioning Rita in a conversation as personal as family planning. Was that Shane's way of suggesting the same? He tugged uncomfortably at his shirt collar; had the temperature in this room suddenly risen by several degrees?

Just then, Shane's watch chimed and she gasped.

"It's a text from Rita!" she exclaimed. "I'm going to try to send a reply."

She quickly punched in a simple SOS and hit send as a test. She waited a moment, then her shoulders sagged in defeat.

"I can't get a decent signal."

She glanced around the room, pondering their surroundings.

"What...are you thinking?" Oliver asked curiously.

Shane stood quickly and held her wrist above her head, eyeing her watch.

"Ugh!" she uttered in exasperation.

She narrowed her eyes at the chair she had been sitting in moments earlier and pulled it right next to the end of the desk. Then she hastily climbed into the worn-out chair and onto the fragile desk.

"Shane!" Oliver shouted in dismay, immediately rushing to her side and looking up at her with an expression of disapproval. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Just trying to get a better signal, Oliver. There must be some reception in here. How else would I have gotten Rita's text?"

She stretched her body as far as she could toward the ceiling, waving her wrist in the air and watching the bars on the screen intently.

If he hadn't been so concerned about her well-being, he might have appreciated the view. Instead, Oliver sighed in frustration.

"This furniture is not exactly in the best shape, Shane. You could hurt yourself."

"I'm fine, Oliver. I need to get this text sent so they'll know where we are. Otherwise, they might not think to look here for days."

She lowered her heels back to the desk's surface and wobbled, her arms outstretched to regain her balance, but not before Oliver's strong hands had steadied her.

"Get down," Oliver demanded, his face stern as he gazed up at her, one hand on her lower abdomen and the other on her backside.

Shane turned her head to him, a stunned look on her face, then looked away.

Oliver sighed again, his features changing to an expression of regret. "I'm sorry," he told her, his voice softening, yet he wasn't releasing his hold on her. "But will you please come down from there?"

Shane looked back down at him and nodded quietly. She twisted to face him and leaned over, his hands sliding upward from her waist as his arms steadily took a strong hold under hers. He gently set her on the floor, their eyes locking for more than a moment. His hands sent shockwaves through her body as they brushed lightly back down her sides to land on her hips. She shuddered visibly.

"Are you getting cold?" he inquired.

"Maybe a little," she said softly, knowing full well that her shiver was not due to the slight chill in the room. Didn't her husband realize by now how his touch affected her, even when she was irritated by him?

It dissolved any irritation she had with him, that's what it did. Perhaps he knew exactly what he was doing.

It really was unfortunate, though, that forgiving him brought her mental focus back to their current circumstances of being trapped in a distant space with seemingly no way out. She'd rather be angry with him than face that reality.

Oliver had retrieved his jacket laying a few feet away. He wrapped it around Shane, drawing her close to his warmth, then leaned his head down until their lips touched. At first the kiss was soft, apologetic; it then transformed into one with stronger emotion. It was as though Oliver was wordlessly letting her know he truly was sorry, then explaining that he was only trying to protect her from harm.

Shane's faith had grown immensely in recent years, but it didn't measure up to Oliver's. He was clearly the strong one in this situation, while she was constantly feeling on the verge of a nervous breakdown, unless, of course, he took her mind off their entrapment. She needed another good distraction and welcomed her husband's loving touch. His deepening kiss made her forget their bleak circumstances; in fact, it left her with nothing to fear and very few thoughts at all...