Lightning Strikes Twice - Part 50B

[ariaadagio]

Title: Lightning Strikes Twice
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Pairing: Duh. (Mer/Der)
Rating: M
Timeline: Post Time After Time.

~~~~~

She tossed her phone onto the table next to her stack of boxes and thumped to the back of the trailer.  She set the pregnancy test down on the nightstand for him to find.  She didn't have the heart to wake him up.  Not when he was so tired.  It wasn't like this was the first test.  Or even at all surprising at that point.  But she didn't have any desire to hide it, either.

The sweat stains on his shirt had dried a little, evening out with the shade of the rest of his shirt, and his skin no longer glistened.  His breaths came deep and even and rumbly, almost snoring, but not really.  She pulled off her dirty pants and shirt and settled next to him, sighing at the musky scent of sweat and man and him.  He didn't wake, but his arm snaked around her, finding her even in dreams.  She rubbed his forearm with the tips of her nails, marveling at how his light, soft curls caught against her fingers.  She stared at the sunroof, absent, letting her focus wander.  His breathing stayed even and deep, and she let it soothe her.  She watched the shaft of sunlight piercing the small bedroom from the window overhead slowly shift with the passing of minutes.

"I love you," she told him.  He grunted.  His arm flexed around her torso and went lax again.  Somewhere in the haze of coming down off the high and dipping into the relaxation of being near him for no particular reason other than to be near him, she drifted off, far away, and yet closer than she'd ever felt before.

When she woke, he was gone, and in place of the pregnancy test on his nightstand, she found a small, yellow sticky note that, in his distinct, barely legible, doctorish script, said, "Lake."  She sighed, breathing in and out, trying to blink away the grogginess of sleep.  She sat up slowly.  The sunlight cascading in through the windows kept her skin warm and she fought the lazy urge to fall back asleep despite his absence.

When she registered the pregnancy test poking out of the small waste bin on top of a bunch of other refuse from the move, she came awake like a shot.  Damn it.  She'd left it out for him to find.  She suddenly wondered if perhaps that had been a little insensitive.  Who'd want to wake up to their dreams getting crushed five inches from their face?  Damn it.

She threw her dirty clothes on, not bothering to dig out clean stuff, and plodded out of the trailer onto the deck.  His fishing poles and tackle box were all still stacked up against the side of the trailer, which left her puzzled.  Lake.  What was he at the lake for if not fishing?

She tore out into the weeds and headed toward the lake along the mud-caked, flattened path of grass that would, with time and hope, become a legitimate trail.  The path spilled onto the dock without warning.  She'd discovered that the first time she'd been there and found him drinking and fishing from a lawn chair.  The lawn chair was still there, its patchwork of color sun-splotched and dirt-streaked.  A pile of clothes sat folded neatly next to it, and a towel had been slung over the back.

But there was no Derek.

She frowned, only to be distracted by a loud, flopping splash.  A splash too big for a little fish or a bird.  She focused on the pale curve of his hip and the flick of his foot, pale alabaster against the near black of the lake, before he disappeared under the water.  Shimmers of sunlight replaced the disruption, and, for a moment, she wondered if she'd been imagining things, until he surfaced about twenty feet farther out.  He swept his hands back through his sopping hair, sending water flying everywhere.  A soft, coughing sputter carried across the breeze, and then he dipped underneath the surface again.

He appeared again to the left, and didn't seem to have any particular destination in mind.  She settled into the chair, leaning against the back of it, a soft smile caressing her lips.  Two weeks ago, he definitely wouldn't have been able to do this.  Not for any length of time.  She watched the way the sun glistened against his back, the way the water sluiced down the line of his spine between the bunches of his muscles.

"Hey," she called softly when he looked over and stilled, though she doubted he could hear her at that distance.  He was very small against the choppy expanse of the lake.  Small and humbled.

He treaded water for a moment, staring at her, his expression unreadable.  He dipped under the water again, reappearing once to catch his breath, and then a second time just below the dock.  The water wavered along the slopes of his shoulders, though he seemed to have stopped treading, instead choosing to hang onto the thin, metal ladder at the edge of the long, wooden walk.

"Hey," he called up to her.

She bit her lip.  "Derek, I..."

"I know," he said.  He smiled brightly at her, water dripping from his hair and everywhere.  Tufts of short hair stuck up in all directions, the tint of dark water making it appear black instead of raven brown.  He looked sort of like a drowned rat.  A cold, bluish, shivering drowned rat.  But a happy cold, bluish, shivering drowned rat, and that was...

"I'm sorry," she felt compelled to say, but he shook his head.  Water droplets flicked onto the surface of the lake by his shoulders.

"No," he said.  "You're not allowed to be sorry.  Not to me.  You didn't want it yet, and you have nothing to be sorry for."

"No, but..."

"Mere, it's okay," he assured her.  "I'm okay.  Really."

"Which is why you're swimming naked in a freezing cold lake?"

"Well, no," he replied sheepishly.  "I'm swimming naked in a freezing cold lake because I woke up next to my very sexy, nearly naked fiancé who looked like she needed the sleep."

She grinned and stood from the chair, shifting her position so that she lay flat against the dock, her chin propped against her hands and elbows as she stared down at him.  "There are showers for that, you know."

He shrugged.  "I haven't been out here in months, Meredith.  It's going to be too cold soon."

"You're kind of blue, Derek," she said.  "It looks like it's already too cold."

"Want to warm me up?"

"I'd love to," she said.  "But not in the lake."

"Why not in the lake?"

"It's cold," she said, reaching down to touch the surface.  Icy chill snaked up her fingers.  She swept her fingers to his shoulders and then his cheek.  Also icy.  And bluish.  He leaned into the touch, though she was surprised he could feel it at all when he looked nearly frostbitten like that.  "And there's probably... mutant frogs or something.  Newts.  Whatever."

He looked down at the water and then back up to her with a quirky grin.  "They're friendly newts."

"They're probably carnivorous."

"Oh, c'mon," he said with a low laugh.  His fingers shifted on the ladder.  "They're cute."

"Newts," she said.  "Newts are cute?"

"Very," he said, giving her a serious nod.  "You know, you didn't have this problem last time we were in here."

"Last time we were in here, you pulled me in, and I didn't have a chance to protest," she said.

The skin around his eyes crinkled, and he smirked as he shook his head, spraying water droplets everywhere.  "So, you're more of a can't beat 'em, so I'll join 'em type of person."

"Yes," she said with a nod.  "Very."

He frowned.  "You should join me anyway.  It's very lonely in here with just me and the newts."

"You just want to see me naked in freezing water," she said.

He winked.  "The thought had crossed my mind, yes."

"I'm not perky enough on my own?"

"Oh, you're perky," he said with an approving smile.  "You're very perky.  But you could be perkier."

"We do have an outstanding fishing bet, you know.  That doesn't require being in the water, does it?  Couldn't we do that?"

"Right," he said.  "We do have that."

"I was thinking maybe today," she replied.

"Hmm, we could."  His brow creased as he considered it, which looked strange considering the fact that his whole body was shivering with cold.  How much was there to really consider?  She inched forward over the edge of the dock, creeping along like she was ducking underneath a warzone, and dipped down to kiss him.  It was a freezing kiss.

"We definitely could," she said, breathless as she pulled an inch away.

He raised an eyebrow.  He paused for a long, long moment.  His fingers squeaked against the dock ladder.  He dipped down a little, though she had no idea why.  Further into freezing.  Crazy.  Ridiculously crazy.  Waves lapped over his shoulders, and she stopped watching him for a moment to peer at the sun-kissed water instead.  Sun-kissed looked warm.  Just looking at Derek was making her shiver.

Another one of those long-necked, gray birds flew down over the water.  It settled into the shallow water by the reads and started stalking along the far edge of the lake.  She was about to ask him what kind of bird it was when he interrupted her thoughts.

"Charts for a month?" he asked.

"Charts for a month," she said, nodding.

He smirked.  "No, I think I like this better."

For a brief moment, she had no idea what was happening.  His height rose as though he were catapulting from the water via a cannon or something.  The water level, which had been at his collarbone, became even with the creases of his skin where his groin turned into legs.  Water slipped down against his pale skin, gleaming in the sunlight.  His fingers found her waist, her pants dragged along the dock for a moment until he gathered enough leverage, and then she was sailing through the air like a lobbed melon.

The water plunged around her as she flailed and choked.  Sharp, icy fingers slapped her skin and soaked her clothes.  Clear air became indistinct, murky, muddy greenish-gray, and the shock of the sudden change and the soft pull of gravity left her sinking, sinking, sinking into the water.  She goggled like a fish for a moment, her mouth opening, closing, opening, closing.  Her feet found the bottom of the lake, which was silty and soft.  Bits of weeds and other things squirted over the sides of her flip-flops and between her toes as she scrunched them, and then she jetted up to the surface, five feet above.  She broke it, water spilling around her like the unfurling petals of a flower as she gasped, spitting water and hair and bits of plants from her face.

She reached up and brushed her eyes with her fingers, shivering, cold, shocked, only to have her blurry sight resolve on him.  He treaded water about four feet from her, a quirky, devilish grin on his face.  Her teeth started to chatter.

She ran her hands back through her hair.  A wet, slopping sound chucked across the water as remnants of her dunking sloughed away with the motion, and she glared at him, sputtering.  His evil smile faltered for a moment, and they stayed there, him treading water farther out, her standing neck deep in icy, murky lake water, her toes communing with who knew what on the muddy floor of dirt and caked... things.  Her fingers, she noted, were already turning fleshy and blue as she lifted them to brush away more water from her eyes.

He started to shiver, and she realized.  This was the first time they'd been in the water like this since...  Since she'd drowned.  He probably hadn't been thinking about it when he'd tossed her.  She certainly hadn't.

And now they both were.

It could have been a moment.

It could have been.

Instead, she smiled, trying to ignore the trembling shivers racing through her bones as she reached under the water to yank her sopping shirt off.  She tossed it back toward the dock.

"You bastard," she hissed playfully through her teeth.  She dunked under the water to pull at her shoes.  When she broke the surface again, she found him still there, the same spot, treading water, but the mischievous gleam had returned to his eyes.

"Yeah," he said, nodding.  "The water's not so deep by the dock there."

"You freaking bastard," she repeated as her flip-flops landed with two solid, mucky thunks behind her on the boards of the dock.

He laughed, low and rumbly.  Water spluttered from his shivering lips.  "Are you going to join me, now?"

"No, I'm going to beat you!" she said as she yanked her pants off.  Finally, she had freedom of movement.  They landed behind her with a sucking thump.  "Lemons into lemonade, my ass."

She darted forward, pumping with her feet, trying to get some momentum, but he slipped away like a dolphin, deeper into the chill.  When she stopped to tread and rest, the echoes of his laughter curled down her spine, and she growled in frustration.  He waggled wet eyebrows at her and sprayed water in a fan from his mouth.  She darted forward, only to get left behind in the unfurling waves of his wake.

"Since when do you swim like that Thorpedo guy?" she spluttered.

He laughed.  "Thorpedo guy?"

"I watched the Olympics for five minutes.  And you're changing the subject.  Since when, Derek?"

He shook his head.  "I'm not changing the subject.  You're the one that brought up Olympic swimming."

"You're so changing the subject!"

"Am not."

"Are, too!"

"Am not."

"Are, too!"

He kicked up a plume of white, frothy water as he arched his body forward and slipped under the surface.  The water settled into stillness, and she kicked, treading, trying to figure out where he'd gone.  "Derek?" she said.

She shrieked as his hand found her ankles, the world tilted, and suddenly she was over his shoulder, hands slipping along his slick, wet back and lower.  He roared with laughter as he overturned her and sped away, pausing only to cop a feel.  The water plunged around her again, and all she managed was a vague grasp at his toes before he torpedoed out of reach.  She spun around, coughing against the influx of water as she righted herself and broke the surface.

"You naughty, dirty, mean, MEAN man," she growled, kicking after him.

"Want to know a secret?" he said as he back-kicked away from her, effortless.

She spat water into the lake, breathless, her heart throbbing with the effort of keeping up, and though she felt the chill, it was long gone from her immediate awareness.  She laughed anyway as he taunted her along.  "I don't know.  Do I?" she said, panting as she doggy paddled after him, trying to conserve some energy.

A breeze lapped softly over the surface of the water, evaporating the water on her face and from her hair quickly, which sent shivers all the way to the tips of her submerged toes.  A flock of aquatic-y birds spilled out from the distant reeds as Derek laughed, loud and throaty and... perfect, but he never got a chance to answer her.  She shrieked as something slimy brushed against her foot.

"What?" he said, frowning as he closed the distance between them.

"A newt!"

"Newts are the size of my thumb, Meredith..."

"A mutant frog!"

"Meredith..."

"Maybe a fish..." she conceded.

He chuckled.  "More like a weed.  Fish won't swim up to you.  They're shy, and they don't like noise."

"Whatever," she growled as he swam away again.  "So, what's this secret?  And, so help me, Derek, if a mutant frog fish newt hybrid... thing eats me..."

He chuckled.  "I swam varsity in college," he admitted.  "I sort of let you win the last time."

She stopped, spitting new bits of freezing water from her mouth.  "You...  You what?"

He winked.  Water spilled away from him in rolling, smooth waves with the circular treading motions of his hands.  "Oh, come on," he said.  "You already thought I was an arrogant prick.  I didn't want to show off even more."

"I still do think you're an arrogant prick," she said, laughing, amazed to realize he'd actually considered not showing off for her as a way to get her to like him more.  "Except, now I have naughty, bad, bad, scary images of you in Speedos and it's just...  It's wrong, Derek.  Why?  Why would you pick the one sport where spandex isn't cool?"

"There're sports where spandex is cool?"

"I don't know.  Stuff."

"Stuff," he repeated, his eyes twinkling.  "Olympic stuff, or just intramural?"

"Definitely."

The world blurred for a moment as she tried to hold it all in.  She failed, and she found herself chortling and choking, drops of water flying everywhere as she struggled to keep afloat amidst the torrent of humor assaulting her.

"What are you laughing at now?"

"You."  She snorted, barely able to breathe.  Another laugh dribbled out after she forced some air into her lungs, and then another, and another.  "Oh, I just thought of you.  With little goggles and a cap to protect your perfect hair, and it's just..."  Another heaving guffaw ripped through her frame.  "Can't..." she stuttered.  "Lycra."  For a moment, she forgot to kick her feet, and as she sunk and sputtered with laughter, bubbles tore out from her mouth and water splashed everywhere.  "Breathe..."

"You're mocking me."

"Derek!"

He slid up behind her, his fingers lightly grazing her hips.  "I set state records, you know," he said, his voice low and growly against her clavicle.

"In little Speedos," she replied, giggling.  "You set state records in little..."

She shrieked when he dunked under the water and found her feet.  Birds went flying everywhere, startled at the horrendous noise, and she laughed, laughed, laughed as he dipped and darted like a fish, attacking her wherever she turned, trying to escape.  Her eyes started to burn, and she sucked down air, trying to keep up with the spasms of choking laughter and shrieks.  When she kicked, he caught her and tortured her more, and just when she thought she would burst at the seams, he stopped, swum an acrobatic, otter-like lap around her, just under the surface of the water, and popped up in front of her, grinning fiendishly as he pulled her close.

"Yes, but now?" he said, grinning.  "Now, I'm naked."

"Mmm," she nodded, leaning into him.  "You are."

"You're naked," he added.

"Mmm.  I am."

"I'd say it's win-win," he said.

"I'd say it's just cold," she deadpanned.

His lecherous expression broke into a wide, amused smile as he shook his head.  "Shameful," he said.  "Just shameful.  No sense of adventure."

"I have a sense of adventure in the tropics," she said.  "Honest."

"Hmm."

"And you really are kind of a bastard, I hope you know.  Really.  I'm freaking cold."

"You love me for it," he said.

"I do.  I really, really do."

"I love you, too," he replied.  He disappeared underneath the water again, and she prepared herself for another tumbly Jaws moment, or a tickly one.  When twenty seconds passed, she even began to hum the theme, trying not to let her muscles tense up.  She glanced around, but the water was murky, and she'd lost track of him.

"Just when you thought it was safe," she muttered as her teeth started to chatter, but when he found her again, he gently slid up behind her.  He was freezing, too, but somehow, everything seemed warmer when his arms wrapped around her waist.  Her breathing eased as he held her up.

She turned around to face him.  He panted softly, and from the look in his eyes, she knew they'd have to stop soon, or he'd wear himself out again.  But in that moment, she let him support the both of them, and everything seemed perfect.  She smiled.

"Well, I suppose the swimming thing helped you save my life," she said softly, breathless,  "So, thank you."

His wet hair had flattened against his scalp, and it looked thick and full and sopping.  Water dripped down his face, his shoulders, his neck.  His skin shivered with chill.  And, yet, he'd never looked happier.  His fingers flexed against the small of her back.  "Just returning the favor," he said, his lips quirking into a soft smile.

His lips parted, he inhaled, his fingers slipped away, and he disappeared under the surface of the water again.  She started treading to keep herself from sinking after him, and watched the surface of the lake for his return.  The sun had sunk toward the west horizon, and it hung low and tired orange over the tree line, proclaiming it was late afternoon, even for those not lucky enough to have waterproof watches.  Like her.  Slivers of light reflected off the murky, freezing, blue water, sharp like lightning, or a whorl of Christmas lights, or something.

She kicked forward one foot, two feet, three.  A splash, distant and to her right, drew her gaze toward the dock.  She watched Derek climb out of the water onto the dock by the chair where he'd piled his clothes and the towel.  He was drenched and dripping, naked, glistening in the golden light.  His torso heaved with breath after breath, and he looked a little thinner than he had been before the accident, still toned, but leaner and a little less healthy.  She found herself biting her lip anyway, unable to tear her eyes away.  He was hers, and that was enough to make her breathless.

He dried off and sat down on the dock, wrapped in the fluffy blue terrycloth, his feet dangling over the side.  "Don't stop on my account," he called, and his voice hit her soft and distant over the breeze.

She smiled and tilted back into the freezing water, doing a sort of flip that no doubt gifted him with a rather graphic view of her full body.  When she surfaced again, she found him watching her with rapt attention.  She paddled toward him.  "I'm not stopping on your account," she said as she approached the dock, breathing hard.  "I'm stopping on the account of me being freezing and terribly out of shape or whatever."

He smiled, reaching down to help her out of the water.  He lifted her as though she were nothing, despite his deep inhalation of breath and the slight shiver of his muscles that said otherwise.  Water sluiced from her toes, and a puddle formed at her feet when he set her down next to him.

Even though the air itself was comfortable, the water on her skin was still very cold, and as it evaporated in the breeze, her entire body started to shake and twitch.  She rubbed her palms against her forearms, trying to create friction, only to find herself buried in Derek's fluffy blue towel, his stomach pressed against her back.  His skin had recouped some heat, and he felt like a furnace against her body.  She rested her wet head against his shoulder as he rubbed her front, turned her, rubbed her back, turned her again, and wrapped them both back up, enveloping her with the cool, clean scent of him.

"Better?" he said as the shivers subsided.

She smiled.  "Yeah.  Mmm, Derek?"

"What?"

"That cold bath in the lake didn't work so well."

Derek chuckled, his palms sliding over her bare skin to cup her breasts.  "Yes, it did."

She moaned as he rubbed her, leaning back into him, letting the friction warm her up.  "I meant on you."

He shrugged.  "Hmm," he murmured against her ear.  He kissed her earlobe, pressing up against her.  "I hate to break it to you, Mere, but you always do that to me."

"Oh."

"This is why scrubs being loose is a good thing," he said.

She swatted his arm.  "Okay, now you're making surgery porny.  You can't make surgery porny.  Too many things are already far too porny."

"I think you have that backward," he commented.  "And, really, can you have too much porn?"

She snorted.  "You're such a guy."

"Well, yeah."

He relinquished the towel into her keeping, his palms coming to rest on her shoulders for a warm, still moment.  She curled up underneath the warm terrycloth, but it wasn't nearly as adequate as he had been, skin-to-skin with her.  She sighed, licking her lips as she shamelessly watched him collect his clothes from beside the chair.

He put them back on, letting her keep the towel because her things were still sopping.  They walked back to the trailer.  He made her coffee while she put on dry clothes, and then she sat at the small dining table, feeling spent and achy.  Her eyes burned a little when she blinked, and inertia drove her to remain sitting, relishing the relaxed, sleepy, quivering feeling in her muscles that told her she'd exercised.  A lot.

Derek, however, barely paused.  He took three sips from his steaming mug, set it on the counter, and started rummaging around the trailer, gathering odds and ends from this cabinet, that cabinet...  He pulled an old, ratty backpack from underneath the dashboard in the front.

She watched him with curiosity while he collected a flashlight, some blankets, and a few wrapped granola bars that crinkled as he mashed them together into a stack, and then packed them into the beat-up nylon backpack.  He dumped the leftover coffee from the pot into a thermos and shoved it in with the rest of the things he'd just crammed together.

"What's that for?" she asked as she sipped on her coffee.  Warmth spread tendrils into her chest with every swallow, relaxing her into a dull stupor of comfortable post-exertion.

He looked up as he stuffed a little compass into the bag.  A compass?  "I really want to show you something if you're up for some walking," he said.  "Not far.  Just...  It's the perfect sky for it."

She regarded him.  Walking?  With a compass?  A compass implied there was a possibility of getting lost.  Didn't it?  Wasn't that more like hiking?  And Derek... he'd been swimming all afternoon and lugging boxes and...  But he stared at her, his eyes twinkling with such rapt excitement that she couldn't bring herself to say anything other than, "The perfect sky?"

He nodded enthusiastically.  "Yes.  You'll like it.  I swear."

"Is it cold?  I've met my daily quota on frozen limbs."

He laughed.  "No.  Well, it will get chilly when the sun sets.  But..."  The zipper on the backpack snarled as he pulled it closed.  "Please?"

She eased onto the sofa and took another sip of coffee.  Her body ached from all the exercise.  Her bones still felt cold.  But the way he was staring at her, practically bouncing with excitement...  She hadn't seen him so lively since... Well...  Months.  Just before George's dad had died, before the whole who-will-be-Chief mess had blown up around them, she'd seen the last hint of it, and, really, not in full since before Addison.  And...  Nature.  She'd said she wanted to try the nature-y hobby stuff.  No chickening out, Grey, she told herself.  Absolutely not.  She brushed her pants off, standing as she emptied the last of her coffee cup.

"Okay," she said, unable to hide the reluctance in her voice.  Derek didn't seem to care.  He told her to put on old stuff.  A sweatshirt.  And so she did, and within an hour, she found herself trailing behind him as he led her into the wilderness, the holey backpack slung over his shoulders almost haphazardly.

He certainly hadn't decked himself out with piles of preparation and readiness like the hikers in disaster movies always did.  They were seriously not prepared for any particular eventuality other than finding north and dealing with ravaging granola cravings, let alone every eventuality.  She suspected that his embarrassing secrets ended with Speedos, and not in a Boy Scout uniform.  But the point was, there were trees.  And grass.  And no path.  Or map.  Or anything.  It was freaking wilderness.  Well, maybe not entirely wilderness.  She caught glimpses of radio towers over the tree line, and she knew the island was only so big.  Well, miles.  And miles were pretty big when there were trees and bears and rotting logs and grass in the way of point A to B.  But...

She glanced back woefully as Derek's nice little trailer slipped from sight.

"We should keep doing this," he said as they plodded through the field.  Thick, wet grass stalks slapped her knees and elbows, and she couldn't help but imagine the sweat trickling down her spine was a bug, creeping...

"Walking?" she said, panting.  Two poorly equipped hikers were found, rotting corpses in the bush today, a spokesperson for the park rangers said.  Yes, a real shame.  We hear they were supposed to get married in Connecticut.

"Yeah," he said.  He stopped to smile at her.  "Maybe get another dog."

"A dog, Derek?" she asked.  They resumed, and the thick clots of tall grass turned into woods.  "Are you sure you know where you're going?  It's getting kind of dark."

The surrounding sounds grew muffled and quieter, somehow, in the thick canopy of leafy trees and overgrowth.  She gripped at a sapling, catching her balance, only to have her hand come away covered with brown, wet bark particles.  Something snapped in the distance.  Like something large.  Moving.  She glanced that way, but Derek seemed unperturbed.  She sighed.  Well, there was nobody she'd rather be a bleached corpse with, she supposed.  She looked up, and could see the deepening blue of the sky through the gaps in the trees overhead.

"I love dogs," he said.  "And, yes, Meredith, dark is the point for this.  And we're not lost.  I swear.  I've been this way a thousand times."  His feet snapped on the dead twigs below their feet, and he pointed to a tree with a spray-painted red X on it as they passed by the trunk.  "See?  I knew that was going to be there."

"I love dogs, too, but," she said.  "You're sure?  A thousand times?  It seems kind of overgrown for you having been through here a thousand times."

Maybe he would be all Tarzan to her Jane.  They'd get lost, and he'd be like, Arrr, I hunt!

She shook her head.

No.

"I'm sure," he replied.  "So, what's the problem with a dog?"

"It's just..." she said, finally letting her mind drift from predictions of doom.

She bit her lip as her drifting landed her mind's eye on thoughts of Doc.  He'd been a sweet, happy dog.  She'd made a horrible mistake getting him, because she hadn't been able to take care of him, and he'd been an attempt by her to fill the void left behind in Derek's absence, which was not a good reason to get a pet.  In the end, he'd been Derek's dog.  And that... She'd...

Their dog.  They'd never shared a dog before.  Only traded one.  And it was silly.  Silly that she was letting her eyes twist up with tears over the prospect of sharing a freaking dog.  But they tore up anyway.  Particularly because it wouldn't be filling any sort of void.  Just adding to the family.  Family.  Derek was her family, now, too.

"You want to get a dog?" she said.  "Together?  Together, together?  As in our dog?  Not your dog or my dog, but...  A dog that's ours.  Really?"

"Sure," he said, pushing forward through the trees.  "Why not?  I have space, and my hours are a lot more flexible than yours.  If there was an emergency or something, I could deal with it."

The darkness thickened around them, and it seemed like they were stuck in a maze of saplings and leaves.  She'd lost track of the field behind them and certainly had no idea where the hell they were, though, they couldn't have gone that far from the trailer.  They'd only been walking for about twenty-five minutes.

She was about to ask again if he was sure he knew what the hell he was doing, when, suddenly, the trees stopped.  She gasped as they stumbled out into a small clearing, and the darkness brightened into sharp oranges and pinks of sunset.  Dry, dead tree-trunks spiked up like pillars in an altar for the sky, which was a dusky dome of darkening blue spilling out overhead.   To the east, it plunged behind the line of green where the trees began again, thick and midnight-touched.  To the west, it turned into fire against a lone strip of puffy clouds.

"Here we are," he said.

Short, lush green grass spilled across the clearing.  A small pond glimmered in the waning light, ending in a copse of low brambles and thicket before disappearing into an even thicker sprawl of taller trees.  Lily pads and flowers covered the surface of the water.

Derek wrapped his arms around her as she stared, wide-eyed.  Eyes glittered in the distance.  Two deer rose up from the grass and scattered, crashing into the thicket, gone before she even had a chance to flinch and wonder what she was looking at.  Their parting left behind only the clear, sparkling burble of the pond water as it spilled into some stream she couldn't see from there, the low croak of frogs, and the rasping sound of insects and life all around them.

"See?" he whispered, low and rumbly against her neck.

"Wow," she agreed.

"It gets better," he said.  He set the backpack down against one of the shorter stumps and unfurled one of the blanket's he'd crammed into it.  He spread it out against the damp ground.  "Lie down," he said.

She was about to do as he asked when he stilled, staring in the distance toward the opposite end of the clearing.

"What is it?" she said, low and worried.  Bears?  Maybe cougars.  Or something else with teeth.  Did wolves live there?

"Shhh," he said, waving a hand absently at her.  On his face, she didn't see any hint of fear.  His lips curled with a small hint of mirth, and his eyes sparkled with glee.

She turned to peer in the direction that had captivated him.  A small, dim light sparked in the distance and went out, leaving only the fuzzy outline of thicket and a mess of grass and trees behind.

"What?" she asked, whispering.  For some reason, this place seemed to demand reverential respect.  "I don't see anything."

"Look," he said, pointing sharply as another light flashed on and off like a beacon in the waning daylight.

"Lightning bugs?" she said.

"Fireflies," he replied.  "I've never seen them here before."

"Let me guess," she said.  "You were one of those kids who caught them and stuck them in old peanut butter jars.  And they're called lightning bugs."

"Fireflies," he corrected absently.

"Lightning bugs!" she insisted before tromping toward the pair of lights dancing by the line of trees.  In that moment, she forgot all about the horrible things that could jump out and eat her.

"Where are you going?"

She laughed.  "They're no fun if you don't catch them."

"I thought you were just scolding me for putting them in jars," he said.  He caught up with her, his feet whispering against the grass as they tore through it.

"So, you admit it," she said, smirking as she closed in on her quarry.  "So mean.  You're a mean, mean man.  And I didn't say anything about jars."

She followed the closest glowing dot and reached out with her fingers, swiping the bug into her grasp, imprisoning it between her palms.  The insect landed on the flesh of her hand.  Its little feet tickled as it wandered, trying to find a way loose.  She giggled as she peered into the small gap between her thumb and the roof provided by her index finger.

"What are you..." he whispered, looking over her shoulder.  "You're torturing it."

"I am not," she said as the space between her palms lit up with a soft, yellow glow.  "He's cute."

"How do you know it's a he?"

"I don't know," she said.  "He looks like a Bob to me."

"Bob," Derek replied, chuckling.  "A firefly named Bob?"

"Lightning bug," she said.

"Firefly."

His arms slipped under her knees and around her shoulders, and the world tilted backward as he pulled her off the ground into his embrace.  The little firefly flew free, buzzing off with a soft, on off glow.

"Derek!" she shrieked as he carried her back to the blanket.  "What are you doing?"

He grinned, his eyes sparkling in the dusk.  "Catching a firefly," he replied.  He set her down on her back against the blanket.  Rocks and sticks and little things dug into her back, but as he surrendered to the ground on top of her, it didn't seem to matter much.  His warm body settled against her, his warm breaths softly laving her in the dim.

"Lightning bug," she whispered as he leaned down to kiss her.

"Definitely lightning," he agreed, and then he took her breath away.

Her knee came up to rest against his hip, and he thrust against her.  The sounds of the pond and the frogs and the birds and everything swelled up around her and faded into a rush of heartbeats and thunderous panting.  She tore her fingers through the short, straight tufts of his hair, moaning.  His hand slipped under her shirt, and it was only when she arched back and found herself staring at the clearing upside down through the slits between her eyelashes that she paused, breathless, shivering with desire.  Awed.

"Derek, stop," she whispered, patting his ribs gently with her palm.  "Look."

He pulled away, breathing hard and glistening with sweat despite the slowly chilling air.  His eyes were creased with frustration, but he did what she asked and looked up.

There weren't just two.  There were dozens.  Yellow dots winked on and off in the dim blur of the day becoming night, drifting lazily like flotsam in a lake or maybe seed pods on the breeze.  They hovered over the grass, tangoing, finding each other and parting in an intricate, patternless dance.

Derek flopped beside her and propped his chin against his palms as he watched.  "Those things aren't supposed to be this far west," he marveled.  "I've never seen one out here before."

She grinned, tearing her gaze away from the silent spectacle to peer at him.  "There's a first time for everything," she said with a smile.

He cocked his head to the side, a pleased-looking shiver ripping through his body.  "There is," he agreed.

They watched the fireflies until the world at last plunged into night, and they were alone in the black of the clearing.  "So, what else did you want to show me?" she asked softly as she settled against his body and rested.  "What's the sky perfect for?"

"Look up," he said.

She did.  She gasped at the whorl of stars overhead.  "Oh," she said dumbly.  The pale band of the Milkyway was actually visible.  She'd never seen it before, but she'd heard it was possible.  The stars winked and twinkled like a carpet of the fireflies that had just departed, and she sighed, relaxing into his embrace.  His palm caressed her hip.

"Neat, huh," he said.  "I found this place by accident."

She smiled.  "I think I like it here."

He turned to her, his eyes glittering in the darkness.  "I tried to get Addison to come once, but she wouldn't."

She shrugged.  "I'm not Addison," she said.

"Nope," he agreed, his voice short and clipped and light.  "Definitely not."  He squeezed her, and she sighed as she stretched against him.  "Are you cold?"

"No," she said.

"Good," he replied.

They cuddled up and watched the stars in silence.

Notes: I think I got the idea of Derek as a swimmer from another fic, but for the life of me, I have no idea where.  I just wanted to thank whoever it was that came up with it first.  Thank you :)