Unfinished Business    part 5 A

Livvy

Headers in Part 1

Rating: NC-17

*~*~*~*

MONDAY

Upon awakening, Lindsay stretches luxuriously, completely and utterly at peace with her surrounds and herself. She can't remember the last time that she woke up feeling so rested. Sighing happily, she rolls over and spies Bobby, who is still deeply asleep, sprawled on his back and covering at minimum three-quarters of the bed. Lindsay smiles as she lays there and watches him. His features, slack in sleep, and his body, without a hint of tension at all, are beautiful to her. It isn't often that Lindsay gets to sleep to her body's desired time-frame, no, normally it is the blast of the alarm that awakens her, long before she is ready. Of course, the alarm wakes Bobby too, so, on the rare occasions when, fully rested, she also has the opportunity to just lay and watch Bobby sleep, she is in heaven.

It isn't that she doesn't, at times, stare at him while he's awake, she does, often, but he soon becomes self conscious and looks away. With him asleep, she has the freedom to stare unabashedly, to love adoringly without making him uncomfortable. Some mornings it becomes too much and she has to touch, but, so far, today she is happy just to look.

Sighing again, she thinks over the emotion filled last few days in which they've finally begun talking to one another. At long last they've begun airing grievances, confiding insecurities and sharing memories. Lindsay is sure that the contentment she feels this morning is due mostly to having released many of the burdens that have been weighing her down for so long. As improbable as it seems, she even feels lighter. Lindsay Dole's miracle weight-loss cure, divulge your deepest darkest secrets and watch the pounds fall away. But as wonderful as their new intimacy has been, at times, it has also been harrowing. She's knows that she has put Bobby through the wringer as she has sorted through her emotions, and, although she feels an overwhelming sense of fulfilment, she wonders what the weekend's events have left him feeling.

Bobby had planned their vacation with the intent of taking her away from their hassles, giving them a chance to kick back, relax and have fun. They've had fun, sure, but there have been a lot of tears too. She's unintentionally made him work hard this weekend. It's been filled with emotionally draining moments and, as rewarding as she believes they've been for their relationship, she can't help wondering if Bobby is disappointed in the way that their vacation has turned out. She's sure that he never planned for this to become such an emotional minefield, had never expected so many tears, and, although he hasn't shown a moment's dissatisfaction, she fears that he may feel some disappointment.

Somehow, their vacation has become hijacked by their relationship. As certain as she is that it's making them stronger, she wants Bobby to have fond memories of this holiday too. She wants him to return home feeling as relaxed and at peace as she now does, she wants, above all else, for him to be happy. Watching him sleep, a wave of love crashes over her and she feels herself filled with a gratitude so strong that tears well in her eyes. A gratitude she bestows on whatever benevolent being brought this wonderful man into her life and on the man himself.

She knows that he has sacrificed his plans for her, and he hasn't once complained, instead he's continually offered unconditional love, support and understanding. So far he has almost been too good to be true, at times she's felt like asking where he has been hiding this wonderful side of himself all this time. She would never say it, of course, fearful that he'd take it the wrong way. He has given of himself so much, and so freely, in the past few days and Lindsay is truly thankful for it. She has never felt so sure of his love as she does right now. She is so happy, because of him and, looking at him now, Lindsay decides enough taking, it's time for her to give something back to him, time for her to say thank you.

Mind made up, Lindsay smiles at the thought of initiating a 'Bobby Appreciation Day.' Before doing so, though, she allows her eyes to drink their fill once more. She feels her body come alive as she grants herself permission to touch him, she smiles as she lets her lips begin their worship, starting with the hand outstretched towards her. Super softly, she trails kisses and caresses over his skin, soft enough for his body to react but light enough not to elicit a cognitive response. Not wanting to wake him just yet, she slows her actions down when he sighs and shifts against the sheets. A small smile appears on his face but his breathing remains deep and even, Lindsay watches until she's sure that he's sunk back into a deep slumber, then whispers, "Sweet dreams," as she returns to his body, loving him with her mouth. His smooth warm skin feels wonderful against her lips.

Lindsay knows the moment that Bobby's dreams shift into reality; she feels his body tense, in surprise, then relax when his brain registers what's happening. A pleased hum is despatched and Lindsay lifts her eyes to his face to return his smile. Rising upright, she says, "Good morning."

"I'll say," Bobby replies, his croaky sleep-laden voice sending shivers down Lindsay's spine.

"Sleep well?" she asks coyly.

Bobby laughs before saying, "Get up here, Lindsay."

"Yes sir, Bobby sir," she replies, sliding up his body, enjoying every inch of the journey. When she is lying beside him, she teases, "You called, so I'm here, now what?"

"Ah, that's the way I like you, Linds, obedient and agreeable," he teases, rolling to his side to face her.

"Oh really? And how do you love me?"

"Every way possible," he moves forwards, so their noses touch, then adds, "and then some!"

Lindsay is smiling as her lips meet his in a long, deep, thorough good-morning kiss. When they part, her lips trail over his jaw before her tongue scrapes over his stubbled chin. As her mouth moves down his throat, she takes in a deep breath of warm, musky, sleepy, Bobby. If she could bottle the scent of her sleeping lover she would. It's an aroma that she craves, it comforts and arouses her, it grounds her just as surely as his loving arms do. She hums contentedly as her mouth zeroes in on his Adam's apple, licking, kissing and suckling there. She smiles feeling it bob out of her reach when, after her hands have ventured further down his body, he swallows deeply.

"Hey," he rasps, and draws her back to face level, before rolling them over, "Are you okay?" he asks having seen something in her eyes that indicated deliberation more than spontaneity. Lindsay's up to something and he's just a little curious about what's spurring her to act this way.

"Am I okay?" Lindsay laughs, looking up at him in surprise, that was the last thing that she had expected to come from his lips, "Why wouldn't I be okay?" she asks him.

"I'm not complaining, you can wake me like this anytime, it's just... unexpected," he replies.

"Bobby, you're thinking too much," she says, pushes him away, then straddling his body when he's supine again.

He smiles at her use of the familiar accusation. Admittedly, though, he's normally the one throwing it at her. "You could ditch the alarm clock and wake me this way every day," he suggests.

"When we get back home I might just do that," she replies, then laughs at his exaggerated look of joy. She leans forward for a kiss and, although he responds, she senses a touch of hesitation still. Sighing, she raises up to look at him.

"So, what's going on?" he asks, in answer to her frustrated sigh, "I know you, something's going on." He can't help it, he just needs to be sure that she wants this as much as he does, that it isn't another case of her acting one way because she wants something else.

"Fine," she says, sitting up straight and staring at him. "I made a decision earlier," seeing a flash of concern cross his face, she reaches down, and palming his cheek soothes the worry away as she promises, "You'll like this one, Bobby."

He moves his face to kiss her palm as he waits for her to explain, hoping that she is right and this will be something he'll like; admittedly, from what he has seen of her mood this morning, she seems to be on a wavelength that he can more than happily live with. In fact, what the hell did he stop her for? Tugging on her hand a little, Bobby tries to draw Lindsay back down to him.

"No," she says, shaking her head and planting her hand on his chest, stopping him, smiling she adds, "You wanted me to stop and talk to you, so that's what I have to do."

"Since when has what I say counted for anything?" he teases.

Lindsay, for the purpose of comfort needed to move and it had been purely accidental that she dug her big toe a little too firmly into his shin; Bobby then yelped a little more than necessary and Lindsay, personifying innocence, looked at him confused as to what could have caused him to make such a noise.

"Since now," Lindsay says in answer to a question that Bobby has forgotten he'd asked.

"Huh," he intelligently replies, concentrating more on his fingers' attempts to coax her back to him.

"I want to do something for you, I want to make today about you, so, whatever you want, Bobby, that's what we'll do."

That offer gets his attention, and looking at her, he says, "You don't need to..."

"I know that I don't need to, Bobby," she interrupts, "But I want to. I want to spoil you. These past few days... Bobby, I don't know if you'll ever understand what they've meant to me. I don't remember ever being this happy and I want to share it with you."

"You already are, I feel it too," Bobby says as his hands slide up to Lindsay's shoulders, tugging gently he draws her down for a tender kiss that neither is eager to end - Bobby, because it's leading them back to the way things were before he'd stupidly made her talk, and, Lindsay because she's always found it easier to be intimate with her body than her voice.

When they eventually separate, Lindsay raises up, and resting her arms on his chest, says "Today... today I want you to be happy."

"I am happy," he assures her, wondering how she could not know this, he's told her, he knows that he has, so how could she still not believe it? "Lindsay, I..."

Placing her finger over his lips, Lindsay smiles at him, "I know, I don't mean... I just want today to be your perfect day... I want to give you your perfect day. Bobby, I may never get another chance like this, away from interruptions, to show you what you mean to me, to... I... I just... I ~want~ to do this for you, please, let me."

Bobby looks at her and sees in her eyes a plea that he let her spoil him. Realizing now, that it is a gift that she is offering and not a sense of obligation, he nods. The smile that he offers her is full of approval and excitement; he's never had an offer like this one before and is a little at a loss for words as to how to express his gratitude and delight.

With renewed confidence, now that he has accepted her wish, Lindsay leans further forward, until her lips hover within a breath of his and whispers, "Today is worship Bobby day and your wish is my command."

Bobby smiles at her, accepts her soft kiss, then placing his fingers under her chin draws her away as he asks, "And when is it my turn, when is it worship Lindsay day?"

"Every day's that, Bobby," she laughs, "I'm just being magnanimous for a day."

"Sounds about right," he laughs. Rolling them over, he begins covering her neck and shoulders with kisses, planning on spending a good part of the day tasting every inch of her delicious skin - what could be more perfect than that?.

Laughing, as she tries to get him to stop, Lindsay says, "Bobby, Bobby, that's not how it works."

He grins up at her as he says, "You always say that."

"Well, you always do it wrong," she teases.

"You don't like this?" he asks and moves his lips to suction against her neck, in that spot that always causes a molten flood through her body.

"Oooh," she purrs, undulating against him.

"Yeah, I thought so," he says, smugly, "I'm not doing it wrong now, am I?"

"Yeah, you are," she giggles, "This is supposed to be about you!"

Moving back up, Bobby rests his head on the pillow beside her. He smiles when she turns to face him, and lightly stroking her cheek, he asks, "Anything that I want, that's what you'll do?"

Still feeling the calamity that he's caused in her body, lost in sensation and the intensity of his gaze, Lindsay nods before replying, "Uh huh."

"Then quit bossing me around," he teases. "Try and remember that I'm the one in charge," he nips her nose before moving back down her body.

"You're infuriating!" Lindsay growls as she shakes her head in amusement. Trust Bobby to turn the tables on her like this; she was supposed to be seducing him, giving him the greatest morning that he's ever had, catering to his body's every need, but, instead, he's playing her body, seducing her mind until she barely remembers her previous intent. He always has to change the rules, upping the ante on any game that they play. "Bobbeee," she sighs in one last-ditch effort to regain control."

She feels him slide his hands under her chemise, until it's pushed up her body and exposing her breasts. His hands are more luxurious against her skin than any silk could ever be; she loves to feel them there, there is no way that she could stop him now or even want to. With the way that he is touching her, she can't help but whisper her pleasure, knowing that he has won this round.

Feeling his breath against her face, she opens eyes that she doesn't remember closing and is greeted by Bobby's smiling face. He moves out of her sight as he says, "This is what I want, this is my idea of perfection, so just grin and bear it."

"I'll try to," she laughs, before her breath is sucked out of her with the touch of his tongue.

Briefly, remembering that this was supposed to be about him, for him, she thinks that she should be stronger and doing something more to get this back to her original plan. Then his mouth leaves her, he blows softly against her heated flesh before taking it back into his mouth and suckling hard. 'Oh, to hell with the plan!' Lindsay decides, 'This feels too damn good to give up, even for Bobby.' She hears his mumbled approval when he feels the fight go out of her body and smiles at the thoughtfulness he shows in not moving his mouth away to give voice to his words. Oh, no, his mouth is performing a much better service right where it is, thank you very much. In case he may have the intention of ever stopping his actions, her hands find their way into his hair, where they keep him focussed on what his objective is.

With his fingers stroking and teasing her flesh, his mouth glorying her with licks, nips, breezes and kisses, Lindsay soon finds herself soaring. The gulls outside have nothing on her and the heights that she reaches. Her cries rise higher in the air with each touch that he gives. "Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby," she increasingly chants as her head thrashes on the pillow.

His efforts speed up in answer to her body's needs until she lurches under him, almost bucking him off as her body stiffens and arches, before falling gloriously, weightlessly, back against the bed. Her stilted breaths fill the room, emitting bliss with each exhale. Her hand flops outward, patting futilely against the mattress, in what time has taught Bobby is a boneless attempt to draw him closer.

Reaching out and taking her searching fingers in his, Bobby rises and lies beside her, pressing kisses along her jaw as her body struggles to remember how it operates. He smiles at her sweat-streaked brow and thoroughly sated face and he laughs out loud with the glory of life, when, totally serious, she asks, "Did I just levitate?"

Her fingers slide back into his hair, drawing his mouth to hers for a long, tender kiss. Although it causes his laughter to end, his joy remains unabated.

With her body coming alive again, Lindsay pulls out of the kiss, and says, "Want you... now!" From the look on his face, she knows that Bobby would comment on it being, 'what Lindsay wants,' again, except it may lead to a time delay that he'd rather avoid. He's in her arms again almost before she's had time to draw the chemise over her head and off; his lips connecting with hers as she throws the gown away.

Slowly their bodies lower until, lying above her, Bobby settles into the cradle of her thighs. He torments her with long slow kisses; with his mouth devouring hers, and his body resting fully on her, Lindsay's breath is quickly expunged. The lack of oxygen increases her adrenaline level and makes her anxious body even more frantic. As his mouth parts from hers, she unwittingly emits a sob of desperation. Concerned, Bobby raises on his arms to look at her. Her eyes are so dilated with arousal that the irises are practically non existent. Freed now from the trappings of his weight, her body shifts under him, the resulting sensation making his head drop to her shoulders as he releases a long tortured moan.

"Now?" Lindsay begs, "Bobby, now."

The tone of her voice is almost his undoing, taking a steeling breath he husks a reply of, "Now!"

Lindsay's feet trail up the backs of Bobby's legs as they rise to cross over the small of his back. His body tightens with every inch that they travel, his excitement collecting and following her trail, each nerve ending that she passes catching on fire until, aroused beyond belief, feverishly he grabs her face and feasts from her mouth. Lindsay's hands travel down his back, pause to cup and squeeze his bottom before sliding forward to guide him home. The resulting mutual exclamation of ecstatic approval is muffled in their relentless kiss. The need for more, soon overpowers them and their mouths breathlessly separate. Strangled words of need pour out as they beg and praise. Bobby rises onto his arms above her, until the only weight that she feels from him is the heaviness within. This, she agrees, is perfection, taking him into her body, feeling him fill her with the heat of his love... Perfection

Bobby begins stroking inside of her in time with her body's thrusts, Lindsay, sated once already, lacks the cognitive disrupting frenzy of unrequited need, enabling her the privilege of enjoying him to the full. She watches him intensely as her senses become imbued by him. His skin is hot to touch, under her fingers, against her lips, between her thighs as he glides within her. Her body clings to him, anoints him, seeks and enjoys him. The sounds of him fill her just as his body does; his breathing washes over her, his adoring utterings and expressions of exquisite delight spur her on. The taste of his breath mingles with hers, their mouths filled with morning musk and passion. Her tongue chases the warm salty sweat that slides down his neck and relishes his signature taste. With each breath she inhales their combined scent - the aroma of love, of warm-sweaty-sex-ridden bodies that this morning overpowers the fragrance of the sea. Lindsay inhales deeply, breathes him in and soaks him into every pore.

He is hers, and her eyes devour him, because, of all the senses, the thing that she most delights in now is the sight of him. The wild, deranged, desperate man, whose every pleasure induced action brings him closer to a completion that he's striving to delay. The war of sensations that are expressed in his features is phenomenal. When these emotions desert his face, and his eyes lock with hers, she sees the signification of love reflected back at her, and she's undone completely. Every time! Today is no different. As she basks in his eyes, Lindsay's body, without forewarning, begins to shatter. Her cry is strangled by the force of her release. With every ounce of strength that he has, Bobby works to help her ride out the waves until, succumbing to the force, he feels them crashing over him too. Her contracting muscles massaging tighter and tighter break his last vestiges of control. He looms over her as his body stills in preparation; he becomes her world as, trembling, he empties into her, bathing her with his primeval roar.

Bobby's arms, shaky with long-held use and orgasmic lethargy, threaten to give way and topple him to her. With his last ounce of strength, he shifts to the side and lands semi-sprawled over her. He drags her into him, muttering incoherently and deliriously affectionate. Lindsay knows that it's one of those mornings when, if she'd had the foresight to draw up the papers, she could get him to agree to sign over the practice without a moment's hesitation. She rolls to face him, smiling at his puppy-dog eyes and goofy grin. Loved to distraction, that's what he is and she can't help feeling immeasurably proud that she's the one that has done this to him.

Lindsay's certain that Bobby is offering no complaints about his day so far and as much as she would love to stay exactly as they are and bask all day, she has other plans, or at least she will have once Bobby informs her of what they are. The fact that they are currently unknown, doesn't make her any less eager to get them underway. Smoothing the damp hair up and off of his forehead, she asks, "You ready for breakfast, Bobby?"

His eyes light up and Lindsay watches the retort form in his eyes. She's thankful that he's too sluggish for any fast paced wisecracks, as it gives her the time to push him aside, straddle his chest and mock-choke him, all before the words, 'I've already eaten,' travel from his mind to his mouth. Her dominant pose is so threatening that his arms remain sprawled across the mattress and his mouth forms a lopsided grin. Groaning, Lindsay lowers her forehead to his and huffs, "Typical!"

"What is?" he croakily replies.

"That the day I decide to be nice to you happens to coincide with one when you're determined to be infuriating."

"Hmmm, that's new," he replies, biting her ear.

Wriggling away from his mouth, she rises and asks, "What's new?"

"You just insinuated that there are days when I'm not infuriating."

"Oh God, I did too," Lindsay giggles, "What is wrong with me!"

Bobby looks up at her, his eyes making her body melt as he states, "Nothing at all! You're total and utter perfection."

Lindsay grins at him, amused by what she calls his sex-induced sweetness. She looks at him now, as devotedly as she had done while he slept. He smiles up at her, content in her gaze, his eyes as adoring as her own. When Lindsay moves to speak, Bobby's finger caresses her lips, as he teases, "You promised to spoil me remember, you can't take advantage of my depleted mental state, no making me promise something I'll live to regret."

"Damn," Lindsay groans, "And I had a good one lined up for today too."

"If it involves you being naked, I... I could agree to it with a bit of coercion."

"There was nakedness, Your Honour, I was powerless to resist."

Bobby reaches up and draws her back against him, whispering, "What man could?"

They share smiles and whispers, giggles and caresses as their heartbeats slowly return to normal; talking nonsense just to hear the other laugh, they feel nothing but the pure delight of the moment. When Bobby's hands begin to slide up her thighs, Lindsay discovers that this pliant body beneath her does still have a mind of its own. Her smile drops as her body exults in his sudden touch and his eyes telegraph his intent. God! She's tempted, she's really tempted, but decides that three orgasms before breakfast just may kill her. In the interests of a healthy blood-sugar-level and a longer life, she evades his hands. Rolling off of his body, and the bed, Lindsay grabs the shirt that he'd discarded from the day before and flees the room.

"Hey!" Bobby calls after her in protest, then dropping his head to the pillow closes his eyes with a deep satiated sigh, hoping that he has the strength to survive perfection. At the rate that they are going he fears that they may spontaneously combust before this vacation is over, they've certainly been generating a lot of friction with their bodies and he knows that his has been on sensation overload almost from the moment the possibility of a holiday entered his mind. He lays there, knowing that Lindsay is setting some plan in motion; he'll give her some time to get things organized because, right now, quite frankly, he doesn't think that he could stand if he tried.

~~~~~~~~

Lindsay is beginning to wonder if she'll have to decide between waking him or spending the rest of the morning alone, when Bobby appears in the kitchen, wearing only a pair of well-worn jeans and a smile. She returns the smile, knowing his is in part due to the fact that she's wearing the other half of his outfit. She loves wearing his clothes, for some strange love-sick reason they are always softer, warmer and, no matter how miss-sized, more comfortable than her own. Today's shirt has the added bonus of a days worth of Bobby's scent on it and, as she feels the cotton tickling her thighs, she feels decadent and sexy-as-hell. She has to stop herself from letting out a dramatic purr, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and dragging him back to bed. If she was in charge that is exactly what she would do, but, today, Bobby is calling the shots. Lindsay attempts to use mental telepathy to get him to make the suggestion, then inaudibly sighs when she sees his eyes move to the table, knowing that the chances of getting him to see her now that food has entered the equation are zero to none.

Bobby sits at the table and looks at the breakfast that Lindsay has prepared. He shakes his head in amusement at this evidence of her intention to pamper him. Is it any wonder that he loves this woman, she's even provided syrup with not a pancake in sight? He reaches his hand out to her and when she takes it, he tugs on her arm until she's seated on his knee. She smiles at him but beneath her audacious exterior Bobby senses a hint of uncertainty. He knows that today is as much about her need to do something for him as it is about him, he can sense the pressure that she's placing on herself and decides to play with her, hoping to get her to relax. While one arm supports her back, the other hand runs over her leg from thigh to knee and back again. Tugging on the hem of 'his' shirt, he smiles as he says, "I like this better on you."

Lindsay smiles and demurely asks, "So, then, you don't want me to take it off?"

"I never said that," he grins and kisses her lips softly. When they slowly pull apart, he asks, "Have I said thank you yet?"

"Not in those exact words, but yes," she replies, cuddling into him.

"If I'm dreaming, don't wake me," he whispers.

"You're not dreaming," she promises him, and for a moment their smiles fade as they look at one another with the full intensity of new love.

Breaking the spell, Lindsay looks away and reaches for a plate which she then passes to Bobby. He thanks her as he takes it from her and then reaches for a piece of toast. Hearing the kettle, Lindsay rises to make them some coffee, she brings his to him, then, collecting her own, sits opposite him as they begin their meal. They eat in relative silence, the only sounds in the room are the clinking of crockery and the crunch of their food. Enjoying their meal, they feel under no pressure to talk, each happy to immerse themselves in their thoughts. Occasionally a memory will surface which they need to share and laugh over, a tease will arise and a challenge be made, then silence will reign again.

Having finished eating, Lindsay smiles, feeling exhilarated by the perfection of the morning, she can't wait to enjoy the rest of the day. Eager to know what he has planned for them, she asks, "So, have you decided what it is that you want to do today?"

Bobby pauses, then says, "What would you say if I said that the Bruins were playing in LA and I wouldn't mind driving back there to see them?

A two-and-a-half-hour drive just to sit through a hockey game, followed by another two-and-a-half-hour drive to get home again, or an overnight stay in LA, it's the last thing that Lindsay would want to do with her day, but she did promise him anything and fully intends to stand by her word. Trying to hide her disappointment, reminding herself that it is supposed to be his perfect day and not hers, she replies, "I'd say, what time do you want us to leave?"

"You want to go?" he says, surprised.

"You don't want me to?" she counters with just as much astonishment, and a tinge of hurt that Bobby's perfect day didn't necessarily include her. The thought of that had never crossed her mind and she feels heat begin to burn behind her eyes as the disappointment courses through her.

Bobby doesn't respond as he's too busy staring at her as if she has grown an extra head. Seeing the incredulous look on his face, Lindsay realises that he's expecting her to back out, "You don't believe that I'll go, do you?"

"Of course I do!" he replies unconvincingly.

Lindsay rises from the table and begins clearing away her dishes. Bobby shakes his head a little before returning his attention to his meal, his plan has backfired just a little and, as he continues to eat, he tries to decide how to fix things. When he realizes that the clattering coming from the sink is louder than necessary, he stops thinking and turns to look at Lindsay. He doesn't like what he sees in her body language and immediately asks, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!"

"Doesn't look like nothing," Bobby replies and Lindsay spins around to glare at him; the look in her eyes makes Bobby wish that he hadn't provoked her. Summoning his courage, he keeps his eyes level with hers, leaving her with the option of turning away or opening up. He's thankful when he sees her intent to speak softens her eyes.

Placing the dishtowel down, Lindsay leans against the bench and asks, "Why is it so hard for you to believe that I would want to do something nice for you?"

"It isn't!" he tries to assure her but she is no longer listening.

"Am I normally that unaccommodating, that selfish?"

Realizing for the first time that it's hurt and not anger controlling her, Bobby kicks himself, as he tries to work out how he could have been stupid enough to let things go so wrong, "Lindsay, you're never selfish, you... you're so generous, so kind-hearted, so..."

"Then why don't you believe me?" she asks genuinely curious.

"I do!" he promises, "I believe you, I don't just believe it, I know that it's true. I could spend the rest of the day listing the things that you have done for me and I'd still only be scratching the surface."

Feeling buoyed by his words and seeing only truth in his eyes, Lindsay curbs her hurt and asks, "So, what time do you want to leave?"

"I don't want to go," he says shaking his head.

Lindsay's anger immediately resurfaces, "For God's sake, Bobby, I said that I'd go, can we just go already!"

"Lindsay, there is no game, I'm sorry that I even said it."

It suddenly becomes clear to her, stunned she stares at him before saying, in a voice clouded with tension and distaste, "You were testing me."

"No!" Bobby declares, making Lindsay see red.

Infuriating is an understatement, in times like this she finds him detestable. Why can't he ever be honest? "Go to hell Bobby!" she shouts as she storms out of the room, making it as far as the bedroom before losing momentum and zeal.

She feels lost and disjointed with her plans for the day all shot to hell. She has nowhere to go and won't allow herself to run away. No, she'd promised that she wouldn't run from him anymore and is determined not to go back on her word. She shakes her head at the memory of Bobby begging her not to run, not to hide from him, to share how she's feeling, oh, she'll share all right, he deserves nothing less. Standing in the middle of the room, she wills herself not to cry. She won't let him have her tears, her anger yes, but no tears. Damn him! If he can't believe in nice then she'll let him see pissed for the rest of the holiday. See how he likes that. How could he do that to her, take her offer and twist it into something, so... so... God, he makes her so mad!

Damn him, damn him, damn him!

Lindsay's so busy internalizing her thoughts that she doesn't hear Bobby's approach. She's alerted to his presence when his arms reach from behind her, wrap themselves around her waist and hold her against him. Angry, she hisses for him to, "Let go!," as she tries to wriggle free, but his grasp is too strong.

"I wasn't testing you," he softly says.

"Liar!" she sneers.

Bobby sighs her name then says, "I'm not lying, please, I was playing with you, yes, but I wasn't testing you. It was a misguided attempt at a tease, that's all, but I wasn't testing you." Feeling some of the fight leave her body, he loosens his hold, and walks to stand in front of her. "I tried to think of a worse case scenario, something that you'd hate, I even had five choices for you, each one horrible... I just wanted to watch you trying to choose, I just... I underestimated your generosity, I hadn't expected you to agree so soon," he grins apologetically, "You didn't even let me get to the truly awful ones."

Lindsay smiles a little bit and nods her acceptance of his explanation.

"I wasn't testing you," he says again.

"Okay," Lindsay whispers, knowing that he won't stop until she believes him.

Bobby brushes away a tear that Lindsay hadn't been able to contain, and says, "No tears today, okay?"

"That's all I wanted for you, Bobby," she sighs and meets his eyes for the first time since he reentered the room.

"What do you mean?" Bobby asks, still seeing too much sorrow in her eyes to feel comfortable.

"Well, things... they haven't been going exactly as you planned. I never intended to but... I've... we've... I just wanted you to have fun today. I wanted you to relax and enjoy it, to feel... to feel like you are on vacation... I wanted it to be more like you'd intended..."

"Ahhhhh," Bobby hums.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lindsay asks, feeling her defenses returning.

Before she can move away, Bobby takes Lindsay's hand in his, "It means, Lindsay, that you don't have to ~do~ anything to make me happy, and you know that. That's what's had me confused; I didn't get why you were trying so hard to do something that you already do. I'm not negating the import of your offer, I appreciate that you want to do this... I really do, and I know that you intend to see it through, but I don't need grand gestures. I don't need you putting pressure on yourself to do something that you already naturally do everyday. I don't want to be acting with you, I am happy... you make me happy, we're on vacation, so, let's just kick back and enjoy it."

"I just wanted..."

"If you're feeling guilty about what has happened here, Lindsay, then you're insane. I'm loving it, honestly what has happened here has been better than I ever expected, more incredible than I could have dreamed was possible... This is what I hoped for, it's already perfect, Lindsay."

"You sure?" Lindsay asks, wanting so much to believe that his words are true.

Bobby sighs at her doubts; after all that he has said why does she still need to ask that? He explains it to her as succinctly as he can, hoping that in fact alone and not sentiment she'll see her proof. "My plan was to get you out of the city, to spend quality time alone with you... beyond that..." he shrugs, "I just wanted to be with you, I had no plans and I am not at all disappointed, if that's what's worrying you."

"It's just, I felt like maybe I had taken over and I thought..."

"Lindsay, I may be dense but even I could see that we needed to talk."

Lindsay laughs, stepping to him, she hugs him and says, "You're only a little dense."

"It's part of my charm," Bobby whispers and Lindsay snorts in reply.

They hold tight and relax into a comfortable silence as they recover from the desperation of miscommunication. Knowing that they are again on the same page, neither feels pressure to move forward.

"Tell me, have I just been stupid enough to talk you out of being my slave for the day?" Bobby asks as he feel Lindsay begin to leave the embrace.

"I never offered that," she says, looking up at him with a broad grin.

"Anything that I want, wasn't that the offer?"

"Would that make you happy? Me being your slave?" she asks curiously.

Bobby pauses, as if having to seriously consider the question, before leaning forward and leering, "They are many types of slaves, you know?"

"Oh, really," Lindsay drawls, playing along.

"Mmm hmmm," he says as his lips move to cover her neck.

"I could be a slave to this," Lindsay whispers, arching her neck to offer him better access, entranced by the sensations an amorous Bobby can generate in her. Maybe the reason that they argue so often isn't that they are masters of miscommunication, but that they know making up is so much fun. This is nice, this is wonderful, but is this what they are going to do? When Bobby raises up to look at her, Lindsay sees mischief in his eyes and decides to sway the conversation before he says something so ridiculous that she has to laugh at him. Knowing that once they start laughing, who knows how long it will take to get back to serious business. Lindsay being a planner, likes to know her day's itinerary from the start, unfortunately, having offered herself to Bobby she now feels in limbo until she knows what it is that he intends for them to do.

"So, what's the plan now, Bobby?" Lindsay asks.

"I'll tell you what I want," Bobby says in the voice that Lindsay knows she could never say no to. His hands reach out and, grasping her hips, draw her to him, stepping towards her, he then backs her against the wall, all the while kissing her intently.

Feeling him pressed hard against her, Lindsay is fairly certain that she knows exactly what this scenario entails. Sliding her hand down between their bodies, she presses her palm against his growing erection, curling her fingers along the length of him. Bobby thrusts instinctively against the oh-so-welcome intrusion, before, with a barely disguised groan, he grabs her wrist and moves her hand away.

"Later," he whispers huskily.

Lindsay's surprised by this, realising that she's misread his intentions, even though they had seemed crystal clear. "What are we doing, Bobby?" she asks.

"I'll tell you what I'm going to do," he says, raising his face from her skin

"Mmm hmmm," she asks, looking into his dark eyes and seeing the same desire that she's feeling reflected there.

Bobby takes a step back, digging his hands into his pockets as insurance that he'll keep them away from her. He knows that if he touches her again it will be to carry her back to bed and if they end up back in bed, then he can foresee them spending the day there. Honestly, it seems like a brilliant plan to him, but, he suspects that Lindsay believes a vacation at the beach should, at least in part, be spent on the beach. Adding a wistful quality to his voice, Bobby says, "I'm going to grab myself a blanket, then go out and find myself a nice comfortable place to just lay down and enjoy the surroundings."

"Sounds nice," Lindsay replies, waiting to hear what her role is in his plan.

"It will be," Bobby agrees, "I know that I'll be totally relaxed, totally at peace, just nature and me, two peas in a pod."

Lindsay can't help smiling at the image of Bobby in a suit and tie, lying on a blanket at the beach.

"What?" Bobby asks, amused by her grin.

"Nothing, I'm just imagining you out there, you look good, Bobby."

"I feel good, I feel incredible, alive, I'm lost in thought, imagining the one thing that could make the day perfect, the one thing that is missing... then, suddenly, above the smell of the ocean I sense the delicious aroma of my woman walking towards me."

Lindsay had been beginning to doubt that she was to be included in the afternoon's activities, so smiles when she discovers that she does have a part to play - his woman, and a smelly one at that. Fishing for a compliment, she asks, "Does it please you that she is there?"

"Ooh, yeah, although at first I wonder if it's merely wish fulfilment, if, maybe, having thought so much about her I just imagined her there. I need to know that it isn't just a dream, so, I look up and the sight that I see totally rocks my world." Bobby pauses and looks carefully at Lindsay, her face is a little flushed and she nods at him to continue talking. Hoping that he isn't about to kill the mood, he says, "She's wearing nothing but a sexy little bikini, so relaxed would not be a good word to describe me anymore."

Bobby becomes nervous when he sees Lindsay bite on her lip, wondering if he has pushed too hard, too fast.

Lindsay sees the question in his eyes, 'Is this okay with you?' and is a little surprised by the fact that the answer is yes. Today she feels sexy, wanton even, and the thought of wearing that bikini, knowing now how long he's dreamt of seeing her in it, is giving her a thrill; she's never been somebody's dream before. Feeling brazen, she decides to play with him, wondering how far Bobby will let her go.

"That all sounds lovely, Bobby, but of course in deference to her alabaster skin, your woman may need the man of her dreams to rub lotion all over her body with his strong, warm, sensual hands."

"Does she like that?" Bobby asks, his breath hitching at the question.

"Oh yeah, and he'll be left in no doubt about how much she likes it, her body... her body will speak to him, he'll know that the touch of his hands have aroused her immensely, that because of him she's in an insatiable frenzy, especially after what she does next."

"What does she do?" he all but whispers in awe.

Wanting this to be his dream, Lindsay asks, "What do you think she does?"

"Um... after he's covered her in lotion, he... uh... moves to kiss her but she wants more..."

"I bet she does..."

"She pushes him down on the blanket, then takes the bottle and... and, her delicate hands spread lotion all over his hard, rippling muscles making him putty in her hands."

Lindsay smiles at Bobby's description of himself, her muscle-bound hero, knowing that two can play this game, she calmly says, "She straddles him, her hands play him like an instrument, making his body sing. With heaving breasts she watches him fall under her spell..."

"Her missiles of torture, roaming sensuously over his thirsting body have him begging her for mercy..."

With a opening like that Lindsay can't help but throw in every cliché that she can think of, "With her senses filled by his erotically, musky masculine essence, she takes him in hand and impales her honeyed sweetness on his turgid manhood..."

Bobby breaks into laughter, "Oh, God! Okay you win. I give up."

Lindsay rises on her toes and kisses him softly. "Never mess with the master," she whispers, before, pulling from his embrace, she turns to leave the room; pausing in the doorway, she says, "And those books were Helen's."

"Yeah right," Bobby snickers but obviously too loudly because her face reappears in the doorway.

"What was that, Bobby?"

"What, nothing," Bobby replies defensively.

"I heard you," she declares, walking towards him.

"It's just, you always blame Helen, you forget that I know you have a wild side too. Lindsay, I like it... don't, don't cover it up."

Lindsay smiles at him, "Thank you, Bobby, but... in this case it's true, they weren't mine."

"Fine," Bobby says dismissively.

Not liking that he hasn't believed her, Lindsay challenges, "Well, have you seen me with one since I moved in with you?"

"No, but..." Bobby stops speaking, but not soon enough.

"But, what? Bobby?" Lindsay asks with a gleam in her eye and an amused smile; sometimes he can be gloriously transparent. It always surprises her to discover that her Bobby thinks like a man, although why it still does, considering that she's confronted with the fact almost every day, is a little absurd.

"Nothing," Bobby says, shrinking about two feet in size. With his hands in his pockets and his head hung down, Lindsay almost expects to hear a boyish, southern-drawl, "Aw, shucks, Ma'am, t'weren't nothun."

"Oh, it didn't sound like nothing to me," Lindsay says, sauntering over to him as she repeats his earlier words.

"No, I just..." Bobby replies, looking up, argument at the ready.

"Just what?" Lindsay asks.

Bobby opens his mouth, closes it, his ears turn bright red and he shakes his head, "Nothing."

Lindsay loves watching him squirm. Pausing a couple of steps from him, she asks, "What? You think that because I'm living with you now, because I live with Bobby Donnell the King of Romance, I wouldn't ~need~ to read a trashy romance novel anymore? Is that what you're saying Bobby?"

Bobby has the good grace to look chagrined, making Lindsay's smile broaden; seeing her smile, Bobby becomes braver and deadpans, "You're right, something doesn't add up."

Lindsay grins, score one for Bobby; his trump card now is, if losing an argument, bring up math knowing that embarrassment silences Lindsay quicker than logic can. It won't work today though, because today she has ammunition of her own. "Bobby, of the three of us, I think that you're the only one who ever read them."

"Only one, and I never finished it!" he says defensively, as his face becomes a lovely shade of red to match his ears.

"Yeah, because we caught you at it," she teases.

"No, because..." unable to think of an excuse, Bobby concedes, "Oh, all right, but I wasn't enjoying it anyway."

Lindsay laughs now and closes the distance between them, draping her arms around his neck, she says, "I'm glad that we interrupted then, I'd hate for you to do something that you didn't enjoy."

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he whispers, "Maybe it was you not being home yet that I didn't enjoy."

"Maybe," she whispers against his lips, before talk is put aside so that they can kiss tenderly and chastely. They sway together for a moment, looking into each other's eyes, smiles of remembrance adorn their faces. Lindsay recalls how Bobby, having been caught doing something so 'girly' then made an issue, for the rest of the night, of proving his masculinity. Bobby can be such a strange creature at times, but as Lindsay looks into his eyes, she truly believes that she wouldn't change a thing about him. Lindsay kisses him chastely again, then, with eyes promising more, backs away.

Not ready to have her leave yet, Bobby stalls her by asking, "So, why was it on your coffee table if neither of you read them?" He looks at her smugly, so intently that Lindsay can almost hear him say, 'Answer me that one, Dole?'

"They're Helen's!" Lindsay reminds him, just in case he hasn't heard her previous vehement denials of ownership. When he merely shrugs and gestures for more, she groans and explains, "She buys them, skims through for the worst passages, memorises them and then proceeds to recite them at the most inopportune times... say if I'm drinking, or on the phone with my mother... or she'll just start sprouting them at the end of a rotten day because she knows that it always makes me laugh."

Bobby smiles and concedes, "That sounds like Helen."

"Yeah," Lindsay replies wistfully.

Bobby watches as her mind skitters out of this room and reenters her old apartment. He can almost guess at the antics that she is recalling by the expression on her face. "You miss her," he says, not quite sure if he is asking or telling her.

"I do," Lindsay sighs, when she looks up at Bobby, she sees a hint of regret in his eyes and wanting his smile to return, she says, "She was a great roommate... Bobby, I've only known one better."

Her statement has the desired effect and Bobby smiles at her, then, delighting her, he leans in for a soft kiss.

"Everyone has to grow up sometime" she softly says when they part.

"What do you mean?" he asks, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, looking up at her curiously.

Lindsay sighs and pauses as she decides how best to explain her feelings. "Living with Helen... you know, it was a lot of fun, a lot of good times; it was home but it was always home, for now. It was just a step on a journey, not the final destination." She pauses to see if Bobby is following her, when he nods, she continues, "But living with you, this is it, Bobby, this is my home, period. We're in the big leagues now, this is for ever! The location may change, but you and me, we'll always be each other's home. I love it, I do, but it isn't just about fun anymore. There's a lot more responsibility involved and a lot more pressure, everything has deeper meaning and consequences. Whatever steps we take now, we'll live with forever, so it's much more imperative that we get it right."

When Bobby looks at her, Lindsay can see by his expression, that he's a little stunned and a lot unsure of what to say. She brushes the concern from his face, stepping against him, she draws him to her. Her arm encircles his shoulder as he rests his cheek against her chest. Lowering her lips to the top of his head, she whispers, "I know, I think too much."

As she raises up straight, she hears him hum an agreement and feels him smile as they rock slowly together. She takes a moment to just to enjoy where she is, before stepping away. Bobby reaches for her hand, still not ready to let her leave.

"I love living with you, Bobby," she assures him, when he nods, she adds, "I'm ready for this, it's what I want, it's time."

"Grown up time," he confirms.

"Exactly," Lindsay smiles and gently squeezes his hand before letting go. She begins walking to the door again but, before getting there, looks over her shoulder at him and says, "So, go get your bucket and spade and I'll meet you out on the beach in twenty minutes."

Bobby smiles as he watches her leave the room, then his eyes close as he runs her words through his mind. He chuckles at her final comment and, rising from the bed, changes from jeans to shorts, grabs a blanket, and makes his way out to the beach. Knowing that Lindsay is giving him the space and time to set up his scenario, heightens his anticipation for the day's events. He hopes that it is playful Lindsay who meets him out there, as much for the fact that she's so damn amusing as that he knows Lindsay rarely lets herself relax enough to cut lose.

What he really wants from this vacation, is to coax the reemergence of those smiles of hers, that these days seem to be rarer and rarer. He wants to hear her full-throated laugh and to see her behave without thought, to be swept along by cheer, to just do as she wants, what she craves and not what with careful deliberation she has determined is right. He doesn't for a second believe that this set up will end as they'd so glaringly described, but all he really wants, anyway, is to lay with her, hold her and enjoy her company on this warm sunny carefree day.

~~~~~~~~

Once out on the beach, lying in wait on his blanket, Bobby is so entranced in dreams that Lindsay arrives by his side before he notices her approach. The fantasies playing out in his imagination have him totally oblivious to the surroundings that he'd earlier claimed he'd so enjoy.

Lindsay smiles down at him, and asks, "Can anyone join this party?"

His concentration broken, Bobby turns to her, a quip ready on his tongue, but his brain stops functioning before it can be released. He stares unabashedly for a moment, before, rising on his knees, reaching his hands to her waist, he draws her closer. "Look at you," he says, his voice filled with awe, amazed that this vision before him is actually his.

How did he get to be this lucky?

As much as he'd anticipated seeing Lindsay in a bikini, it's the look on her face that has him mesmerized now, not that her body doesn't look fantastic, my God, he can't keep his hands off of her, she's magnetic and he's incapable of resistance... but her face, with it's flush of color, sparkling joyful eyes, her smile that can't quite decide whether to bloom or fade, the freckles that today she has done nothing to hide, no, no barriers today, just his woman, fresh faced, open and free. God he wants her!

Bobby shakes his head at her as he tries to remember how to produce speech, he opens his mouth and repeats, "Look at you!"

"Bobby," Lindsay sighs, a mix of pleasure and embarrassment. She's nervous about her attire and hardly believes that it warrants the reaction he has given it. Placing the bag that she's carrying onto the blanket, Lindsay lets her hands glide through his hair as he draws her against him. His face rests against her stomach as his hands wrap around her hips. She feels him pressing tender kisses to her skin and again sighs, "Bobby."

He backs away a little and smiles. Sitting again, he reaches a hand out and invites her to join him on the blanket. Her knees had been beginning to feel unsteady under his scrutiny, so she readily agrees, thankful for the invitation, as collapsing into a heap on top of him would not have been the great romantic gesture that she had been hoping to achieve when she'd arrived. Mind you, her pre-planned gesture had disappeared the moment that Bobby's eyes had touched her skin, unprepared to face his intensity it had scurried back home to hide under the bed.

Lindsay looks at him as she sits, enchanted by the ardour in his eyes as he returns her gaze. 'God ,Bobby, what you do to me,' she thinks.

His hand cups her cheek, and his thumb slowly traces her lip as he says, "I knew that you'd look good, I just... I had no idea that you would look this phenomenal."

"Who are you and what have you done with Bobby?" she teases, hoping to find refuge in banter.

Bobby doesn't take the bait though, he merely replies, "If I'm not him, then he's gone for good, because I'm never giving you up."

Lindsay shakes her head at him slightly as her eyes roam over his face. She feels terrified, she feels elated, she feels like kissing him until he can't even remember his own name and she feels like running away until her mind stops spinning. She does nothing, though, except stare at the lips that have uttered the words that have so shaken her.

"What?" he asks, his question draws her eyes back to his.

"You scare me sometimes," she whispers finding freedom in honesty. Seeing disappointment flash over his face, she quickly adds, "In a good way, Bobby. Just when I think that I know who you are, know how to be with you, what to expect from you... you do the opposite, you take my breath away and rock me to the core. It's scary but I wouldn't change it for anything."

"Speaking of breathtaking," Bobby grins and again runs his eyes over her body. He lays down and opens his arms to her.

'Yeah, this I can do,' she thinks and smiles at him as she moves into his embrace.

If it had only been his words of admiration, Lindsay would wonder if Bobby was just saying this because of the apprehension that she had expressed, while at home, about dressing this way, but nothing about Bobby's body language leaves her in any doubt about the way that he feels. He is truly spellbound. Lindsay smiles at the incongruity of it, less than two hours ago she had been naked in his arms, and now, he is looking at her as if she is some incredible goddess granting him an undeserved gift all because she's covered her body in two tiny scraps of Lycra.

As if having read her thoughts, Bobby whispers against her ear, "It's a guy thing."

She laughs as she kisses him softly, she loves that Bobby can make her feel so desirable, that the sight and thought of her can transform him the way it does. She has drawers full of Bobby favorites, articles of clothing that make him weak at the knees, and has found another to add to the collection. She looks into his love-struck eyes and shakes her head in delighted amusement. "I don't know what to do with you," she whispers as she lays her head against his chest.

"I have some ideas," he huskily replies, then, grinning, adds, "I read the book after all."

Lindsay laughs as she hugs him tighter. They lay, quiet and content in each other's arms; their stillness only interrupted by the occasional caress or whispered words of devotion as they watch the morning slowly drift into afternoon.

Feeling herself become so relaxed that she fears she is close to sleep, Lindsay decides that it's time they break this torpor that they've slipped into. Not that she isn't enjoying it, it's just that she'd planned on giving Bobby a day he'll always remember, sleeping a day away is not her idea of memorable.

"Let's go for a swim," Lindsay says, pushing off of him and rising to her feet.

"Lindsay, the water's cold!" Bobby says, horrified with her suggestion.

"Chicken," she accuses, making him pause to consider her dare.

It doesn't take more than a second for him to decide that the answer is still no. Name calling, he can handle, compared to half the things that he has been called in his life, anything that Lindsay might call him would be considered a compliment. There is nothing that she could call him that would entice him into freezing cold water; he's a guy, guys and cold water immersion do not mix. Surely that is an argument that she cannot deny, "I'd just rather not lose vital parts of my body to frostbite" he tells her.

"Wimp," is her only reply as she drops her eyes to a most vital part of his body with a none-too-impressed expression.

Sitting up, he looks at her, dismayed, and tries a pout as he says, "I thought that you promised to pamper me?"

"I'll warm you up afterwards," she promises, suddenly Miss Congeniality again, her smile is bright and eyes inviting, but to no avail.

Bobby shakes his head, 'no' and Lindsay stares down at him pleadingly. He can feel his resolve melting under the pressure of her gaze and whines, "Lindsay!" Thankfully he remembers his age before he adds, 'I don't wanna!'

"Fine, I'll go by myself," she huffs and begins purposefully walking away. A few steps away, she throws the accusation, "Chicken!" at him, before striding dramatically towards the water.

Bobby watches the exaggerated swing of her hips with an ever increasing smile. He's unsure if she's playing with him or whether she truly intends going for a swim. Lindsay looks over her shoulder at him, with a cheeky grin, and he waves an encouragement for her to continue, eager to see just how far she's likely to go with this. Seeing her pace slacken as she gets closer to the water, he decides that she never had any intention of going for a swim and is just putting on a show for his benefit. Weighing up the prospect of immersion in cold water versus calling her bluff, he decides that no pain, no gain. He's up and chasing after her before she knows it. His arms wrap around her from behind and his momentum carries them forward another few steps. Her squeal of surprise spurs him on further, and as his feet hit the water's edge, he steadies her and says, "Last chance to back out."

"I... I'm not backing out," she declares with enough apprehension to convince him that he'd guessed rightly.

Suddenly the idea of the two of them charging forward, together, against the elements, to a destination that they fear as much as they desire, feels almost symbolic to him. Decision made, there's no way that he's backing out either, "All the way in and under?" he asks.

"Yeah," she laughingly replies, resigned to the fact that it is going to happen and prepared to make the most of it.

"Let's take the plunge," Bobby says and Lindsay hears the significance of his words.

Their hands reach for each other, then, with a laugh, they begin to run forward. Their laughter turns quickly into shrieks as the water temperature breaks into their consciousness. When the water rises to an impossible to run in level, with a final scream and hands still joined, they dive under. Surfacing again they release agonized gasps. Bobby tugs on Lindsay's arm as he rises to stand. She flings herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist trying desperately to escape the water's reach.

"Get me out of here," she laughs.

"Hey, that isn't fair!" Bobby complains, struggling to stay upright due to her squirming and the waves crashing against him. Seeing no contrition at all on her face, he grins, and, as the next wave crashes, sinks backwards under the water taking her with him.

When they surface, Bobby laughs at Lindsay's horrified shriek of, "You creep!"

"Kiss me and we can get out of here," he tells her.

Her cold lips quickly press against his, her tongue demands entrance and, finding warmth in his mouth, tangles furiously with his, hoping to generate enough heat to ease the limbs that are burning from cold.

"C'mon," Lindsay says, finally pulling away from him after one too many waves soak her. They rush out of the water and back towards the blanket.

"Tell me you have a towel in that bag of yours," Bobby says, when they are about half way there.

"I do, I have ~a~ towel," she replies.

With a sly look at her, Bobby begins to sprint, quickly leaving her behind.

"It's mine!" she calls after him, but receives no acknowledgement.

Although Bobby arrives at the blanket before her, by the time he's removed the towel from the bag, Lindsay has caught up to him. Before he can wrap himself in it she throws herself against his body and shivering says, "You can have it but we're sharing."

"Wouldn't have it any other way" he promises.

With her arms still around his waist, she looks up at him, rests her chin on his chest, and asks, "Bobby, do you trust me?"

"Of course," he immediately replies.

"Good," she says with a smile, backing away a step, she holds out her hand for the towel.

Bobby looks at her hand hesitantly, then raising his eyes to the challenging expression on her face, he knows that it's time to put his claim into action. The only way to prove what he said is true and that he does trust her, is to hand the towel to her. As reluctant as he is to part with it, he hands it over.

"Thank you," she says before wrapping it around herself and walking past him.

Bobby's about to spin around and object, when he feels her hands on his back and she instructs, "Don't move." He smiles as he feels the towel run over his neck and shoulders, before trailing down his back. "Did you bring a change of clothes?" she asks as her hands reach his shorts.

"I brought a blanket," he says, seeing now how uninsightful he had been. How is it that women always know what to bring with them, or is it just luck, and that by taking everything they cover all the bases and then call it foresight?

Tugging on his shorts, Lindsay says, "Yes, well, these are going to wet the blanket."

"I could take them off?" Bobby offers and Lindsay snorts at the thought of him doing so.

"Even after your swim?" she coyly teases.

"Uh..." he grins slyly, and mumbles "Maybe not."

Lindsay sighs and proceeds to dry his shorts as best she can. When satisfied, she walks around to stand in front of him, and tilting her head to the blanket, tells him to sit. He does and she kneels between his raised legs to begin drying his chest, abdomen and legs. When all excess moisture has been wiped from his skin, she looks at his face and finds his eyes glued to her cleavage, smiling, she asks, "Warm enough now?"

Grinning at her, Bobby nods, and beckons for her to sit in his embrace. She hands him the towel, which he flips behind him while she moves forward, as she settles in, her back against his chest, he wraps it around them both and they snuggle into one another. As his arms hold her close, her hands peek out from under the towel and hook around his calves, running over them smoothly, keeping his skin warm and his heart pounding.

"Bobby, next time we go swimming, can the water not be that close to freezing point?" she asks, with a laugh.

"Whose insane idea was it to go swimming anyway?" he teases as he holds her tighter, nibbling on her ear.

"You made me pack a bikini, you insisted that I wear it, 'Sun, surf and me' you promised. Well, I've had plenty of sun, and I've had plenty of you, so it was time to try the surf."

"Had plenty of me?" he asks, sadly.

"Hmm, mmm, not enough, mind you," she grins, "But plenty."

"Had enough of the surf yet?"

"I think so" she laughs. "Next time we come to the beach, can it not be in February?"

"Deal," Bobby says, suddenly hit with images of a tropical paradise, Lindsay in a bikini, and hours of cavorting in the water. She'd felt great in his arms as he was being buffeted by the waves, the water had been dreadful but she'd felt great.

"Although, I do like having it to ourselves," Lindsay says.

"Yeah, me too," he says, resting his head on hers.

Lindsay wriggles a little until she's sitting sideways, one arm snakes around his back as the other rubs over his chest, "This is nice," she sighs.

"Mmm hmmm," Bobby agrees, lowering his mouth to hers, suddenly tired of discussion and needing to taste her again. If her eager reaction is anything to go by, he hadn't been the only one with a renewed appetite.

Soon, the sun and their combined body heat warms them enough that the wet towel is no longer needed. They lay, a tangle of lazy limbs and eager lips, and talk of trivialities. In a lull in conversation, Bobby asks, "Hey, what else have you got in your bag?"

"Food," Lindsay replies, then rising on her elbow, asks, "You hungry?"

Bobby nods, so she rolls over until she's beside the bag. Opening it, she asks, "Apple or sandwich?" Bobby smiles at her and with a grin she hands him both. Taking an apple for herself, she then asks, "Drink?" and hands him a bottle when he answers in the affirmative. Bobby lays on his side as he eats, but Lindsay, in deference to safe ingestion, sits cross legged on the blanket. Her suggestion that he sit upright too is ignored. Lindsay smiles at his stubbornness, then alternates between watching Bobby and watching the gulls soar. Surprised at how easily today they've succumbed to total and utter relaxation. She feels a strength and resilience returning to her that she hadn't even realised she'd mislaid. Bobby had been right, she did need this.

She wonders if he's feeling at all the same way that she is. Looking at him, he certainly appears more relaxed than she has ever seen him before. There's a gentleness about him today that thrills her with it's beauty. It's like he's dropped his guard and is allowing her to see the inner man.

Having finished his snack and sensing that he is under review, Bobby looks up and sees his suspicion was correct, Lindsay is staring deeply at him. So intent is she on her own thoughts that she hasn't noticed she is now the subject of his attention. With his foot, he reaches out and strokes along her thigh. When his action registers, and Lindsay lazily smiles at him, he asks, "What's running through your head?"

"Lurid thoughts," Lindsay practically purrs making his body stand to attention.

"Really?" he asks, sitting up, eager to hear more.

Lindsay smiles indulgently at him, before saying, "No, sorry." She can't help but laugh at his suddenly crestfallen face. Moving over until she's sitting beside him, she kisses his bare shoulder then lays down, patting the blanket, inviting him to join her.

When Bobby lays beside her, he rests on his elbow and runs his fingers over her abdomen, softly tracing the scar lines residing there. Lindsay loses track of his progress as he lightly trails over the puckered new skin, her ability to detect sensation there is not yet fully functioning. This is a favored game of Bobby's, to touch with ever increasing pressure, waiting for the first sign of recognition from her. Sometimes she wonders if he is really touching her at all, or just pretending to and delighting in the anticipation in her eyes.

When Lindsay's lazy smile alerts him to the fact that she has felt his touch, Bobby asks, "What were you really thinking?"

"That I don't like the Red Sox's chances this season."

Bobby threatens to bite Lindsay's nose as he scowls, "This year is the year of the Sox."

"You say that every year, Bobby," she grins.

"Yeah, well, eventually I'll be right."

"I hope so," she sighs and knowing that she wants them to win, because he wants it, Bobby just has to kiss her.

When their soft kiss ends, Lindsay decides, enough with the games, it's truth time. "I was thinking about how happy you look."

"There's a reason for that," he replies.

Lindsay smiles, takes a deep breath and says, "You looked relaxed, unguarded, and I was reminded that I have questions to ask you... you still owe me, remember?"

Laying his head down beside hers, he sighs, "Yeah, I remember." His hand moves from her abdomen to hold hers and he grins "We got a little sidetracked, didn't we?"

"The things that you'll do to avoid answering questions," she replies.

Bobby looks at her shocked, "Me? The things that ~I'll~ do? It was you, Ms Dole, putting on your little floor-show at the restaurant that caused us to become sidetracked, don't you dare go blaming me."

"Sorry," she giggles, totally unrepentant.

"Don't be," he laughs, then, laying on his back, he draws her to his side and promises, "I'll answer anything, try me?"

Lindsay is thoughtful for a moment, then says "Tell me something about your parents?" When she hears Bobby sigh, she immediately says, "Sorry," fearing that she has asked him to open a door that he'd rather keep closed. She becomes annoyed with herself for having pushed too far already.

"No, no it's fine," Bobby says, "I was just trying to decide what... you sure you don't want to be a bit more specific?"

Rolling her eyes at him, she says, "I don't know, how about the start? How did they meet?"

Bobby's brow furrows in deep concentration.

"If you don't know, that's okay, just tell me anything," Lindsay suggests, wondering if he'll ever start talking.

"No, I do know, it's just... what's the date today?"

"Uh..." Lindsay replies, then laughs that this answer requires such deep thought. At least this is a good sign that this vacation is working, "Um... it's Monday, so that would make it... the 21st." Rising on her elbow to look at him she says, "Is this another ploy for distraction, Bobby?"

Laughing at her he says, "No, just a weird coincidence," he chuckles to himself, which frustrates Lindsay to no end as she waits to be let in on the joke.

"Bobby!" she whines, "Either tell me what's going on or quit enjoying it so much."

"Sorry" he says smiling at her. "You'd better get comfortable, this is actually quite a long story."

"Oooh, good!" Lindsay says and nestles in against his side. When she's settled, she somewhat excitedly adds, "I'm comfy, start talking."

"Did you know that my dad was in the army?" Bobby asks and Lindsay shakes her head indicating that she hadn't. "Didn't think so, he doesn't like to talk about it."

'Like father, like son' Lindsay thinks but keeps the thought to herself not wanting to risk Bobby clamming up before he even starts.

"He... he fought in Korea."

Lindsay looks surprised and asks, "Really?" She finds it hard to reconcile the fact that the quiet and gentle man that she knows once fought in a war. She had always blamed the sorrow that she sees hidden in his eyes on the loss of his wife, but now, wonders if some of it had been there even before that.

"On this day, forty nine years ago, the UN launched an intensive attack and... and Dad was wounded during that offensive. He was... he was hurt pretty badly, his left leg had been practically shattered, so too had the lower half of his left arm, plus some less generalized shrapnel hits."

Lindsay sits up now and sympathetically looks at Bobby as he speaks.

"He was in hospital in Japan for a month before being flown back here. The demand for beds was so high at the time that they were sending them back here to recover ASAP unless they were too serious to transport. He'd been doing so well there, that they had thought he was ready to come home, but something happened, he picked up an infection en-route or something, so... by the time he was admitted to Bethesda he was in bad shape. He... he was critically ill, it was... uh... it was touch and go for a while."

Lindsay's face looks so sad that Bobby reaches up, while brushing his fingers over her lips, he whispers, "He survived Lindsay, he's home in Boston bragging about his beautiful future daughter-in-law."

Lindsay gives Bobby the smile that he had been hoping for and he continues his story. "He'd been in Bethesda for about a month before my grandfather could get there to visit. Grandpa could only stay for a week; it was as long as he could take off work, as it was he'd needed to scrimp just to be able to afford to get there. My grandmother couldn't go with him, they couldn't really afford it, plus Dad's the oldest, so there were four younger kids still at home that she had to stay with. I mean, I'm sure people would have helped out, but it wasn't my grandparents' way to ask."

Bobby pauses and Lindsay can see him sinking back in time, his face takes on an almost boyish quality as he becomes lost in memories. The love and admiration that she sees, expressed in Bobby's eyes, makes Lindsay smile and she silently waits for him to be ready to continue, not wanting to interrupt his memories. Eventually, he looks at her, and shaking his head, surprised that he had become so lost, he says, "God, they were generous to a fault, would give you the shirts off their own backs, but ask for assistance for themselves, no way."

"They sound like good people," Lindsay says.

"Yeah, the best," Bobby says proudly.

"They sound a lot like you..."

"No," he says shaking his head but Lindsay hears the hope in his voice that she may be right.

"They'd be very proud of you, Bobby," she assures him, when he looks across at her, she adds, "You're a good man."

She sees that she is making him self-conscious and isn't surprised when he asks, "Want to hear more of my story?"

"Yes, please," she says.

Bobby smiles, relieved, and begins to speak. "My grandfather stayed for a week, the next day was a Sunday and he'd be leaving, when visiting hours were up, he told my dad that he'd come by in the morning to take him to church and then would catch the train after that. My dad..." Bobby pauses and smiling takes Lindsay's hand, "My dad always said that he had the courage to go to war, he'd killed, he'd stood up proud and tall against the enemy, risked his life to save a fallen comrade, but balked at the idea of telling his father that, after what he'd seen and done, he wasn't sure he still believed in God anymore."

Returning Bobby's smile, seeing the pride mixed in with the amusement, Lindsay says, "So he went?"

"Reluctantly, yeah. He was torn, he was embarrassed to be seen as he was, his leg was in a full cast, his arm was practically useless, he was a mass of bandages and scars... but over and above that, he was restless, willing to do almost anything for a change of scenery, to get away from the smell of the hospital."

Lindsay nods, remembering all too well how much she'd detested the constant disinfectant smell and how eager to escape the confines of the hospital she had been.

Bobby, seeing the memory of that time returning to her, quickly continues speaking before she can get too immersed in it. "So, the next day, my grandfather wheeled him to the church. It was about three blocks away from the hospital, my dad said that he enjoyed the walk but was feeling very apprehensive by the time they arrived. He was hiding in the corner, down the back, wishing that he wasn't there, and then, one of the first people that he saw arrive was Mom and his embarrassment faded, because all that he could feel after that was love."

Bobby smiles at Lindsay's enchanted sigh. He draws their joined hands to his lips and presses kisses along her knuckles. "Dad always said that after he saw her he knew not to forsake God, because He knows what you need, and when you're ready for it, it will be yours."

"That's nice," Lindsay says and Bobby nods, he's tried to keep faith in this tenet but it hasn't always been easy.

"So, that's how they met," Lindsay sighs.

"Not really," Bobby replies, "I mean, they didn't speak that day. My mom didn't even see my dad that first day, so, no, they didn't meet, as such, until much later."

"Oh, so, how did they meet, then?"

"After mass my grandfather took him straight back to the hospital then left to catch his train. My dad couldn't stop thinking about my mom, though, so, the next Sunday he coerced an orderly to take him to the church and pick him up again in an hour. That first time he'd gone reluctantly to please his father but the second week he went just to see her again. He never missed a Sunday after that, but it took him six weeks to ever speak to her?"

"What happened?"

"Patience Lindsay" Bobby teases, proud that she's so immersed in his tale. "By then, Dad's arm was still causing a lot of problems, he only had about fifteen percent use of it and the doctors weren't overly optimistic that that would improve but everything else was healing well. He'd been out of his cast for a couple of weeks, but still needed the help of a crutch to get around on his own. He felt more confident in himself, less like the freak show that he'd felt he had been those first few weeks. If he put his hand in his pocket then it wasn't so obvious that he didn't have control of his arm."

Seeing the sorrow on Lindsay's face again, Bobby quickly turns the story back to the actual moment his parents met, "Like I said, six weeks had gone by and he was determined not to let another Sunday pass without speaking to her. Mind you, he'd been just as determined the week before but had become tongue-tied as he approached so had turned tail and run."

"He sounds so sweet," Lindsay smiles.

Bobby laughs, "Sweet? I'll tell him that."

"Like father, like son," Lindsay assures him and Bobby grins at her.

"Anyway," he says, playing with her fingers, "My mom always came to mass in a group but this day she arrived a little late and alone. Dad had started to fear that she wasn't coming, so when she did turn up he acted impulsively, he grasped her hand as she walked by and asked her to sit with him."

"And she did?"

"No, no she said that her family were waiting for her and she needed to join them. Not wanting her to get away he asked her to come visit him at the hospital and she said that she would."

"Was it love at first sight for her too?"

"No, no she went that first time to honour her brother."

"How so?"

"He fought in Korea too. They'd always been close and he wrote to her all the time. Mom always said that his letters had been hard to read, because of his incredible loneliness and despair. She had a... a habit, a ritual to reading his letters. When he lived at home, he'd had a dog which he took to a nearby park everyday, so, whenever my mom got a letter from him, she'd go there to read it because that had been the place where he'd always been the happiest. She'd told him that she did this and he would always have something in the letter about what he'd be doing at the park that day when she came to see him, what he'd see and hear, what he'd do there, it was his way of feeling like he was home again. Mom wouldn't open a letter unless she was at the park because she'd felt like that would be a betrayal of him to do so..."

Bobby looks at Lindsay, afraid that she doesn't understand his mother's motives, but she smiles at him, without judgement and keen to hear more.

"Well, the uh... the Sunday that my dad spoke to her, it had been raining heavily the two days previous, so she'd been waiting for to rain to stop so that she could read the latest letter. When it was sunny that morning, she'd told her family that she'd meet them at the church and went to the park first. In the letter, her brother had said that the thing that he missed the most was a friendly face. He said that as much as he loved and trusted the men he served with, as much as he relied on them and enjoyed their company, their smiles never made it to their eyes. He felt so alone and the thing that he wanted the most, the thing that he couldn't wait to get home just to see, was a friendly smile."

When Bobby pauses, he notices tears in Lindsay's eyes, they'd been having such a fun happy day until now that he starts to wonder if he should keep going, "You sure that you want to hear this?"

"Oh, yes! Definitely," she assures him, moving closer to him, her eagerness shining in her eyes. He pictures her as a child, moving closer to the Christmas tree, anxious for presents time to arise. He loves when that impatience is directed at him.

"Okay..." he says and she smiles, relieved that he is continuing, "So, when my dad asked my mom to visit him, she still had her brother's words in her head. She said yes because she hoped that somewhere, someone would be there for her brother, if he reached out in need. She went to see Dad every day that week and by the next Sunday she was in love too." Bobby smiles proudly at her.

"That's a wonderful story, Bobby, thank you."

"My pleasure," he replies and is surprised how true it is, how great it feels to have shared this with her and how easy the tale had been to tell.

"So, when did they get married?" Lindsay asks.

"About three months later."

"Really?"

"Yeah, just over a month later my dad was well enough to be discharged. He stayed in Maryland for another week because he couldn't bear to leave her behind. But in the end he had to leave, he couldn't afford to stay and he knew that his family were waiting. He asked her, if he were to ask her to marry him would she, and she told him that he should ask and see."

Lindsay laughs and so does Bobby. "That was a good answer," she says.

"Yeah, she never let him get away with doing things easy."

"Neither she should," Lindsay assures him.

Bobby smiles at her, then says, "Mom would have loved you."

Any reply that Lindsay had skittered away with the magnitude of those words, speechless she smiles at him and lays back down against his chest as she considers all that he's told her. Having always known so little about her, Lindsay has never quite been able to decide how she feels about Bobby's mother; when she thinks about her, Lindsay's normally a mix of confusion, intrigue, remorse and even, regrettably, resentment. Jealousy has often clouded her view, not that it had ever been clear to start with, but now she is starting to see Bobby's mother, not just as the mysterious enigma that she can never emulate, but as a woman who loved her family deeply. For the first time she feels a connection with her and sees her as someone she could have known and loved.

Feeling him tense up in response to her silence, she rises a little, still composing her own thoughts, she buys time by asking, "So, did he propose?"

"No, not really, he did ask her to wait for him though, he promised her that he'd be back as soon as he could and he'd ask her then. When he arrived in Boston, he left all his belongings in a locker at the station, bought a newspaper and knocked on every door advertising employment. He had a severe limp, scarring on his hands and face and only about fifty percent use of his left arm and that's all that most people saw. He finally went home that night, very despondent, but the next day he tried again, and the next and the next, until he ended up at Sullivan. He didn't get the job that had been advertised but was told there was a janitor's position available if he was interested, he was and started working for the firm right there and then. The weekend after his first paycheck he went to see Mom, he told her that he was employed now, so he could support her and he asked her to marry him... and the rest, as they say, is history."

"Wow, Bobby."

"Yeah, when the Donnell men fall, they fall hard."

"Thank God," Lindsay whispers as she holds him tight. She feels Bobby brush a kiss to her temple and smiles as she asks, "So, they were married in fifty-one?"

"Yeah"

"And you weren't born until sixty-one?"

"Yeah," Bobby says again, a little sadder this time.

Lindsay sits up and looks at him, "You were their first, weren't you? I mean, they didn't lose any, did they?"

"No, just me. My uh... there's a... my mom was a fair bit older than my dad."

"I've wondered about that," Lindsay says and Bobby looks at her questioningly. "I was curious," she admits, "That Euthanasia case, years ago, Ellenor and Helen had both spoken about how powerful your closing had been, how emotional it was... I'm sorry, but I was curious and read a transcript," she looks down, feeling a little ashamed about having pried.

"Hey, it's okay," Bobby assures her, touched that she'd cared so much, knowing that it wasn't just curiosity as she claims, knowing that Lindsay has always protected him, always looked out for him and would have wanted this information so as to know how best to do so.

"No, if you'd wanted me to know, you would have told me, it was wrong of me to pry, I shouldn't..."

"Lindsay, it wasn't that I didn't want you to know, it just... I never talked about it, but, if you'd asked..."

"I couldn't ask you about that, not the way that we were then."

"What do you mean?" Bobby asks, how could she believe that anything was ever off limits with him. They've always talked freely, one of the things that first captivated him about her was the bluntness of their conversations, that he never had to hide himself from her.

"Bobby, when you did that case... we... it's an intimate question, maybe if we were still..."

"Being intimate?" he supplies trying to back coax a smile.

"Yeah," she grins, "But we weren't anymore, and we were being so cautious at maintaining the boundaries that we'd set... We weren't... we weren't really us again yet. We... It wasn't something that I could ask, not when I had no right to know."

"Yeah, you did."

Smiling, Lindsay leans towards him and they tenderly kiss. She knows Bobby's selective memory may believe what he says was so, but she knows that an approach on this topic, at that time, would not have been met as favourably as he claims it would have. That it wouldn't have been doesn't bother Lindsay, in fact, she likes this sign of how much their relationship has grown. Sitting up again, Lindsay says, "I didn't give it any consideration when I read your mother's age, but later... after I met your dad..."

"You did the math," Bobby teases.

"Yeah," Lindsay laughs softly, "I wondered then if what you'd said in your closing had been true, because if it was, and they were of a similar age, then he should have been older."

Bobby smiles, he's not surprised Lindsay would have given this considerable thought, not much gets past her notice.

"Were they given any trouble because of the difference in age?" Lindsay asks.

"Her parents weren't thrilled when they told them. I think they were worried that he was some kid looking to cash in on her kind heart and savings, but he stayed with them that weekend, they got to know him and they realized that in age he may have been a kid, but war... he'd grown up fast in the seven months that he was in Korea, and it didn't take them long to see how much they loved one another. They were married just over a month later with everyone's full blessing."

"That's nice."

"Yeah, they were married in Boston, at St Stephen's. My dad's family wouldn't have been able to afford to all travel to Maryland, but my mom's family could, plus she said that her life would be in Boston now, so that's where she wanted to get married. She said that she wanted to get married in her new parish, so that every time she went to mass she'd be reminded of the happiest day of her life."

Bobby pauses and looks at Lindsay, she smiles at him; happy just to see him talking, she's willing to just sit and listen to whatever he has to say. He huffs a little bit of a laugh and then says, "When I was a kid, I'd get bored waiting for mass to start, Mom was always early to everything that she went to and it would seem like we waited for hours. When I'd start wriggling too much, she'd draw me in close and start talking about her wedding day, she'd point out where everyone sat, tell me what they wore, things that were said... you know, it wasn't even the words because I would barely listen to them, but the wonder in her tone would suck me in every time. I wanted to feel like that about something... I'd sit there dreaming about feeling that way."

Lindsay is silent, afraid to say anything, afraid to hope for too much. Bobby whispers her name and she raises her face to his. Laying on his side, his hand caresses her knee as he says, "I do, I feel it now... I feel it with you."

Lindsay tries to speak but her smile is too insistent, not willing to move even for words. Eventually she drops her eyes from him, takes a little breath, then, looking up again, says, "Your mom sounds like she was very happy."

"Yeah, she was," Bobby smiles, nodding with the memory of his mom's ever present smile. "She... Mom had always worked and she found a new job as soon as she arrived in Boston, between the two of them they had enough to buy our house and the rest they worked for. They were both happy, they wanted kids but it just didn't happen for them. They'd actually given up hope of it ever happening when Mom discovered that she was pregnant with me. She was five months along before she even knew... because of her age, she'd just assumed..." Bobby pauses, a touch embarrassed but then quickly continues, "She never had a day's illness while pregnant, she always said that she'd never felt as alive as she had while carrying me."

"The two of you were close," Lindsay says softly.

"She was my mom!" Bobby replies as if that explains everything.

Lindsay smiles at him, he's the only person she knows who can convey so much love with just that one simple word. She moves over so that she can lay beside him, as she considers the story that he's just told. In the past Lindsay had often wondered how different he might be now should his mother still be alive, wondered would they still be as close now that he is a man and not a boy, would their relationship have changed during the rebellion of adolescence. She'd wondered had the woman become idealised because Bobby had lost her so young, before he'd had time to discover her failings. She knows that he would have loved his mother, always, but often wondered would the love still be steeped in such devotion had she not become so ill and died when Bobby was still a child.

Previously Lindsay had known so very little about the woman, apart from the heartbreak that she had left behind, and has long been fascinated by what it was about her that had made her so monumental in her son's eyes. This glimpse into his life before she'd known him is what she's craved for so long. She feels that she understands him more now. Knowing a little about the type of people his parents are she can now see how they've influenced their son and how Bobby became who he is. She has always liked Bobby's father and loves knowing this fraction more about the woman who meant so much to them both. She believes now, that his mother had been a woman deserving of such love and can only hope that when they have children she'll be half as meaningful in their lives.

"I wish I had know her," Lindsay says softly.

"So do I," Bobby replies wistfully.

"She sounds wonderful, Bobby, and I would have liked to thank her."

"For what?"

"For you," Lindsay whispers, then leaning up on her elbow, she says, "I thanked your father."

"You did? When?"

"Once," she replies noncommittally as she lays back down.

Bobby rolls over so he's looming above her, "When?" he growls, making Lindsay laugh.

"After the engagement," Lindsay says, "He came to see me in the hospital, you were in my good books at the time so I was grateful to him and told him so."

"And now? Am I still in the good books?"

"Maybe," Lindsay says coyly as her hands play over Bobby's skin.

He grins and leans in, kissing her passionately as he allows his body to sink against hers. They kiss until the desperation in their bodies has them wanting so much more. Mindful of their location, Bobby slides off of her and onto his back, "Maybe we should go back to the house," he says as he turns to look at her.

Although Lindsay likes the idea, it involves moving and she isn't quite sure that she still has the ability to do so, she wonders if while kissing Bobby a tidal wave came by and washed her knees out to sea. "Soon," she says and moves over to him, draping herself along his side, "It's nice out here." Her hand smoothes over his chest as their rapidly beating hearts slowly return to normal. "Talk to me, Bobby," she says, needing a distraction from her wayward thoughts.

"Linds, you're going to have to direct the conversation, my mind is a little bit focussed on one thing only right now."

Lindsay rises on her elbow to grin at him, caressing his face, she says, "My poor baby."

Bobby grins back at her, right now he feels like the luckiest guy in the universe but he'll take and milk Lindsay's sympathy for all it's worth because it usually involves touching and kissing, beautiful smiles and her sweet sweet voice; who could turn that down? When he puts on an exaggerated pout, she smiles and lays back down against his chest as she thinks about what she can ask him.

Eventually, Lindsay asks, "Bobby, did her brother ever come home?"

"No, his letters stopped coming about a year later, then eventually it was confirmed that he'd been killed. They didn't know for months though, Mom always said that it had been a terrible time... not knowing."

"Oh," Lindsay says, unsure what to say, unsure what this means to Bobby. His story is almost like a fairy-tale to her, but she knows that the characters are intimately related to him, knowing Bobby, as she does, she can't help but wonder how much he loves and mourns this man that he has never met. Certain that he had heard stories about him his whole childhood, she wonders does he hurt knowing that his uncle is dead.

They are silent for a while, then Bobby says, "His name was Robert."

Lindsay rises on her elbow, "Hmm, that's a nice name," she quips, making Bobby smile broadly.

"Yeah, I'm named after the two men who inadvertently brought my parents together." Seeing the question in her eyes, he explains, "Robert after Mom's brother and my granddad's name was Gordon."

"Robert Gordon Donnell, it's a good strong name."

"Why, thank you," Bobby says, running his finger over her cheek before leaning in for a quick kiss, "I'm kinda fond of Lindsay Suzanne Dole, actually," he whispers huskily into her ear when they part. When he begins nibbling on her ear, Lindsay's body starts squirming deliciously against his and he can't help running his hands over her, delighting in the feel of her against his skin.

Finally finding his tickling hands too tormenting, Lindsay pushes up and off of him, needing a little distance while she still has the ability to tear herself away. She sits up cross-legged beside him, when he pouts and appears about to come after her again, she distracts him by saying, "I never realized that your father had been at Sullivan for so long."

"He never considered leaving. Once he was one-hundred percent healthy again, when all the physical injuries were healed, people would ask why do you still work there when you could do so much more. He'd always say that they took him in when no one else would, because of them he had been able to ask my mom to marry him, because of them he had food on the table and clothes on his back, so why should he turn from them now. I think that's why they've let him stay on so long, he's a part of the institution there. He'd say that he could leave, but for what? More money? He already had everything he wanted - the best wife possible, a son, a comfortable life - more money wasn't going to make him any happier. He'd say that his job wasn't prestigious but it was necessary, someone had to do it, so why not him..."

Bobby pauses and Lindsay, sensing tension, asks, "What's wrong?"

"He asked me... that time when I showed him the office expansion, he actually had to ask me if I was proud of him. All those years, all those times that I'd heard him explain why he did what he did, I saw the looks that he got from people who didn't understand... and I never once thought to tell him that I did, that I understood and agreed with him, I never thought to let him know how proud I am of him... I let him think that I was just like all the rest."

"He never thought that Bobby"

"You don't know..."

"I do, I was there and I heard what was said that day, besides that, I know! What do you think our favorite topic of conversation is when we get together? He never doubted you, Bobby. He never thought that you were like them. Never."

"You sure?" Bobby asks, trusting Lindsay and willing to believe that he hasn't failed his father if she tells him it isn't so.

"Absolutely, one-hundred percent sure, I'll-be-your-slave-for-life-if-I'm-wrong positive."

Bobby smiles at her, as much in response to her playful tone as in relief at her declaration. He wishes that he could talk to his father more, but talking is something that he finds so hard to do. He knows how much his dad loves Lindsay, he doesn't doubt for a second that it is a mutual affection and is grateful to her for being there for his father in a way that he's never been able to be. He feels like they are a true family now, not just two lonely men clinging to a connection, and the person most responsible for that is the one grinning at him now. "So, you talk about me, do you?" he smirks playfully but also extremely curious; whatever do they say about him?

"It's more like he grills me about what you're up to, either he's spent too much time around lawyers, or I know where you get your cross examining skills from. The two of you really need to talk more."

"Yeah, I know," Bobby sighs and Lindsay decides to drop the subject.

She doesn't really mine playing go-between, it's just so strange that they love each other so much and yet find it so difficult to talk. Bobby and his father are champions of small-talk, it amazed her the first day that she saw them do it. Until then she would never have believed that it was possible for people to spend a whole day together without a meaningful thing ever being said. Then again, they had spent a couple of hours on baseball, she'd tuned out after five minutes so maybe the deep and meaningful conversation had occurred during the part that she'd practically slept through.

"I don't think he ever plans to retire," Bobby says, somberly, breaking into Lindsay's reverie, "He should, you know, it's time."

"I think that the house is probably too lonely for him to be in all day, in a way Sullivan has become a home." Lindsay lays back down beside him, smoothing his hair with her fingers she says, "He's happy working, Bobby. It's what he wants."

Bobby rolls them so that he's on top of her, Lindsay laughs up at him as his lips begin to descend to hers. He pauses barely an inch away and says, "Okay pay up, your turn to tell a story now."

Knowing that he's wanting a change of topic, she says, "Okay, so what do you want to hear?"

"I don't know... how did your parents meet?" Bobby says, taking the easy way out and repeating her question.

"You really want to hear about that?" Lindsay asks, doubting it very much.

"Not really," Bobby laughs.

"Good, because they don't have an interesting story anyway."

"Oh, c'mon, sure they do," Bobby says, reassuringly; since her parents seperated, Lindsay has become hesitant to speak of them.

"No, truly, they don't. They had mutual friends, they just sort of knew each other for years, over time they became friends, then more... but their initial meeting was so inconsequential that neither remembers it."

"Tell me something else then."

Lindsay pauses as she tries to decide what she can tell him, then with a smile, she looks at him and asks, "Want to hear about a time when I was reeeeally baaaaad."

Bobby grins, rolling off of her, he lays beside her as he replies, "You bet!"

Lindsay laughs and Bobby can see that the excitement of the memory is washing over her, he smiles eager to hear it. "Okay, so it was Christmas morning, we'd already done the opening presents thing and had all gone off on our own to savour new found delights. I was excited and eager for the day to continue, so I went looking for company. As I approached the kitchen I could hear my parents talking. We were having the extended family over for dinner and for some reason my dad had decided that that morning was the perfect time to pull apart the garbage disposal."

"Makes sense to me," Bobby says, making Lindsay roll her eyes and mouth derisively, "Men!"

"Well my mom wasn't impressed," Lindsay says, "And I heard her ask him why he was trying to get it working today of all days, the reason that he gave her had her laughing so hard that, by the time I made it into the kitchen, they were kissing and cuddling and totally unaware of the fact that I was there." Lindsay pauses getting lost for a moment in the memory, then looking at Bobby's curious face, says, "I used to love that, catching them together when they didn't know that I could see them, it always made me feel so safe, so happy, and I'd stay really quiet and hide and watch them."

"How old are you?" Bobby asks.

Wistfully Lindsay says, "I'm five." When Bobby laughs, she smiles and says, "Of course I grew out of that phase, a few years later I considered it gross and avoided seeing displays of affection like the plague," she sighs, "It's probably why I never noticed that they'd stopped."

Trying to bring her back to the joy of telling the story, Bobby asks, "So what did Little Lindsay do that was so bad?"

Lindsay laughs at the memory, and smiles at Bobby eager for him to hear it, "So, I heard my mom tell my dad that he was very funny and then, just as they were about to kiss again, they spotted me. Mom looked at me and smiled and said, 'Okay Lindsay let's go,' and took my hand..."

"Go where?"

"Back to my room." When Bobby looks concerned, Lindsay smiles, "Bobby this was the best news that I could have ever received. One of my presents was, what I'd christened, my 'Super special party princess' dress, and I'd been bugging my mom from the moment that I opened the box to be allowed to put it on. As I was a five year old dirt-magnet, she wouldn't let me wear it until it was actually party time. I could barely contain my excitement that now I would finally get to put it on. She took my hand and as we walked out of the kitchen she called back to my dad that he'd better clean all the mess up before the guests arrived."

Lindsay sits up, suddenly too filled with the memories to stay still, some of her five-year-old exuberance fills her again, "I remember that Dad suggested I stay back and help him fix the garbage disposal... I used to love helping him fix things. He'd hand me a screwdriver or a wrench and tell me that it was the most important tool and he needed me to mind it for him, because if it wasn't kept safe he wouldn't be able to fix whatever it was he was tinkering with. When he was done, he'd then get me to tap it against whatever he'd been working on, because he said that I had the magic touch, and then he'd test it and it always worked. I'd be so proud of having helped fix it."

Bobby smiles at her, Lindsay drops her eyes giggling at the memory and the joy of being five and invincible. She looks up again and says, "But this day, I told him that I couldn't help because all that I wanted to do was get to wear that dress. Finally, I was all dressed up and the visitors were arriving and I was in absolute heaven. I looked adorable Bobby, I can vouch for that because everyone told me so, repeatedly, and why wouldn't they, it was true after all." Lindsay giggles at the memory, making Bobby smile.

"My brother was ten, he was way past acting the cute kid for grown ups, so he avoided their attention as much as possible, but not me. I was the center of attention, everyone's little princess and I loved it. All my other cousins were boys, oh, except one, but she was only about six months old, she didn't have a super special party princess dress on like I did. She wasn't neck to knee in the softest red velvet known to man, she didn't have elegant snow-white faux-fur collar, cuffs and hem on her dress making her look so beautiful, she was just a baby and she couldn't spin in circles and make her dress twirl around her." Lindsay lets her face take on an expression of awe as she describes it all for him, knowing with each word that his delight in the tale grows.

Bobby can't help reaching out and pulling Lindsay into his arms. As she allows her body to drape over his, he loves seeing the pride of that five year old still shining in her eyes.

Resting her chin on her arms, after crossing them over his chest, she smiles at him and says, "I swear Bobby, I spent the whole day either twirling in circles or rubbing my hands over myself to feel the material. The grown ups all loved me, almost as much as I was loving myself, right up until 'the incident' anyway."

"What did you too?" Bobby asks intrigued.

"We'd had our first course and were sitting around waiting for our bodies to have room for dessert. All the boys were off outside doing 'boy' things and I was entertaining my crowd. Someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, probably after my performances of the day they were expecting something like a ballerina, so, I guess, I surprised them all when I turned around and said that I wanted to be a shop keeper, because that pronouncement was met with dead silence."

"You wanted to be a shopkeeper?"

"With all my five year old heart."

"Why?" Bobby asks, not able to reconcile that his Lindsay had had an ambition like that, strange as it seems, for some reason he'd thought that even aged five she'd wanted to be a partner in his law-firm, that little Lindsay had dreamt of wearing suits and carrying a briefcase.

Lindsay laughs, "My mom had heard me speak of it before, so she said, 'Tell them why Lindsay.' So, I did, I explained that a shopkeeper doesn't have to do any work, that people just give shopkeepers money to take things from them, so all I would have to do is put things on the shelves that I don't want, then people will come and give me money for them, take them away and then I can go buy all the things that I do want."

Bobby smiles at her five year old logic.

"It made perfect sense to me and of course my reply was met with a chorus of, 'Aw how cute.' I already knew that I was but loved being told so anyway."

Bobby frames her face with his hands and says, "I think that you're cute. I think you're more than cute, you're..."

Leaning forward she presses a soft kiss to his lips then says, "Thank you, but shhhhh." When he grins, she continues her story, "So there I was basking in the afterglow when someone asked me what I'd sell in my shop. Now I'd never thought it through far enough to decide on actual items, it was still just an abstract plan, so I had no idea what to say, but I needed an answer. So far I'd had an answer for everything, I was the life of the party, I couldn't let my audience down now."

Bobby smiles imagining Lindsay as a small child. From her descriptions, he can see that she's carried many of the character traits he loves the most with her through all time.

Aware of his increased scrutiny, but unconcerned, Lindsay continues talking. "Then it came to me, I remembered what my father had said in the kitchen, I didn't totally understand it, but it had made my mother laugh hard, so it was obviously the perfect thing to say."

"You didn't"

"I did. I stood up proud and tall and, in the sweetest voice ever, I said 'I'll put in it all the crappy gifts that Celia gives us because there's no way in hell we'll ever have a use for any of them.' It did not go down well."

Bobby laughs so hard that Lindsay is jostled off of his body. Sliding to the side, she sits and smiles down at him demurely. When he calms enough to talk, he asks, "And Celia was there?"

"Oh yeah, and surprisingly not impressed with my idea," Lindsay winks then says, "The next thing that I know, my mom is telling me that I'm a very bad girl and I have to apologize to Aunt Celia this instant. Well, this was not the reaction I had expected, or wanted, and, as you know, I don't take disappointment well. Indignantly, I turned to her and said, 'But you laughed at Daddy and said he was funny when he said it this morning.' Before I know it I'm in my room for a time out."

"Poor Lindsay," Bobby says, reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ear so that he can see her face.

"I know!" she replies with a smile, "I was, to put it mildly, pissed. I was stamping my feet and kicking the door in rage."

"Some things never change," Bobby teases, making Lindsay poke her tongue out at him.

"I was fuming, Bobby, I was so upset, but I refused to cry."

Bobby laughs again at the similarities between Lindsay then and now.

"Oh, shut up, Bobby!" she says, laughing and laying back against him.

His arm wraps around her back and, stroking her side, he asks, "How long were you in your room for?"

"I don't know but everyone was gone when I got out"

"They made you stay in there for a long time!" Bobby says, concerned and becoming indignant himself.

"No," she laughs, "I doubt it was even an hour, I think that the guests quickly deserted the sinking ship. Besides, about five minutes after I went in, my brother came in to see me, I did cry then." Lindsay admits and Bobby holds her tighter. "I always cried when he'd hug me, he never made me feel bad about it and was always able to make it better. He explained everything so clearly to me. So this time he told me not to worry, and that at Christmas, grownups always get crabby, because Santa gives better presents than they do and they're just jealous." Lindsay pushes up and looks into Bobby's eyes "It made such perfect sense to me because Santa had given me my dress and there was nothing in the world more beautiful than that."

Bobby laughs and draws her back down. "I wish that I could have known you then."

Lindsay smiles up at him, trying to imagine a young Bobby Donnell and what he would have been like. She knows that he has a heart full of mischief, was he that cheeky-faced boy, whose hair always stood on end, who did the most terrible things but had a smile that melted the hearts of adults allowing him to go unpunished? Or was he serious even then, was he an old soul child, eyes so intense and knowing that you wondered what lay deep in his heart; what secret did this child own? She knows that Bobby had a gift for loving, even then, she knows that he's always been a loyal and sociable friend and pictures him as a leader of the pack, a charismatic boy, full of life, ready with a helping hand or a cheerful smile. She grins imagining a young Lindsay falling hard for this boy, would Bobby have noticed her or would she have been that annoying kid down the street who hero worships him?

"So, what happened next?" Bobby asks, when she's been silently staring at him for a little too long.

"Huh?" Lindsay asks, shaking her head a little, trying to remember what it was they had been talking about.

"What happened after your brother came in and explained that grown ups were just jealous."

"Oh, well, he snuck out after that and then came back in with some cake, so we hid out in my room and ate it, and I showed him how I could make my dress twirl and he told me lots of stories about grownups that I believed for a lot longer than I ever should have."

"You two were close?"

"I adored him, I wanted to be just like him, to know everything like he did. Of course years later I realized nine times out of ten he'd been lying through his teeth." Shaking her head she laughs as she says, "The things that I used to believe because he'd told me they were so. He's always been able to make things make sense to me, he's always been there for me, no matter what. I had friends with older brothers who wouldn't have anything to do with them, but mine is great. Mind you, to this day, he's never let me live down, 'the incident.' None of my family have."

"Aunt Celia?"

"Oh, God, if anything her presents were even crappier after that and of course everyone blamed me." Lindsay leans up on her elbow again, "You know what just occurred to me, I think my mom or dad must have sent my brother in to see me. He was outside playing with the other boys and I don't see how he would have known what was going on unless someone told."

"They were probably feeling a little guilty."

"Yeah," she grins, "You know, I still have that dress."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'd pass my clothes on to my little cousin when I grew out of them, but I couldn't bear to give that one up. I was heartbroken when it no longer fit, I kept insisting that I could still wear it even though it wouldn't do up anymore. There was no way that I could give it away, so, my mom wrapped in it tissue paper and put it in a special box and said that when I was big, I could let my own little girl wear it. I'll have to show it to you one day."

"Yeah and demonstrate your twirl for me too."

"Well, I can't do that dressed like this," her hands wave over her bikini clad body, "but if we go back to the house, I can put on a flouncy sun-dress, it won't be the same, but it's the best that I can do so as to show you my long forgotten, but perfected, art of twirling."

"Or we could go back, forget the dress and I show you a party trick of my own?"

"Or we could do that," Lindsay laughs but neither makes any effort to move. Lindsay looks around at their surroundings, enjoying the warmth of the West Coast sun and the pleasant ocean scented breeze. She isn't sure how Bobby feels about the day but for her this is definitely perfection. Looking across she sees his lazy smile emerge when their eyes meet and knows that he'd been watching her as she'd watched the sea. He looks so warm and inviting that she moves back into his arms, he hums his contentment and she instantly knows that he wouldn't change a thing about the day either. Her heart pounds with the love that she feels and she snuggles in closer to Bobby, taking a deep breath, filling every sense with him.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Smelling you," she unhesitatingly replies.

"That's what I thought," he laughs, then asks, "Why?"

"You smell like us, I like it."

"I would have thought that the swim washed us away."

"It probably did, but I know it was there."

Bobby smiles, remembering that it had been there too. They lay quietly, content to just hold one another, lost in their own thoughts, Lindsay gives the direction of hers away when she says, "Sex on a beach? Isn't that a cocktail?"

Bobby chuckles at her, pleased that he isn't the only one lost in carnal dreams and replies, "If it is, it's probably one of those girly ones that I wouldn't be caught dead drinking."

"Oh, right, you big man you."

"So you noticed," he teases holding her tighter and bucking against her.

Lindsay giggles and squirms out of his embrace, then, out of the blue, sits up and asks, "You cold? Because I'm cold." Bobby begins to move, but standing, Lindsay says, "No, stay right where you are."

Liking the view that he has, he makes no objection. Leaning over, in what Bobby's sure is meant to appear purely for convenience's sake and not just to provide him with uninterrupted cleavage, Lindsay rummages through her bag. Pulling out a dress, she finally, regrettably in Bobby's opinion, rises again.

"This should do the trick," she says, sliding it over her head. Smoothing it down her body, her hands accentuat every curve until she stops and frowns, "Hmmm, but now I'm a little too warm." Looking across at Bobby, whose staring wide-eyed at her, totally enthralled by the show, she asks, "Don't you think that I'm looking a little ~too~ warm now?"

"Uh, yeah, hot," Bobby replies, sure that he got that reply right, even though he hasn't read the script.

"Hmm, yeah, I thought so. Maybe this will help," Lindsay slides her hands under the dress and draws away the bikini bottoms, "Oh, yeah..." she purrs, "that's much better! Don't you agree?"

"Uh," and a nod, is all that Bobby manages to utter this time, his mind is spinning in a hundred directions, all as a result of the realization that Lindsay is up to something, and the knowledge that his body is heading in that direction too.

Lindsay takes the three steps required to stand beside him, then stepping over his body, lowers herself until she's straddling his thighs. "So, where were we?" she asks, with a contemplative expression on her face.

"Huh?" Bobby replies, amazed that she expects him to think after what she just did, is she out of her mind?

"Oh, I was telling you about wanting to be a shopkeeper, wasn't I?"

Bobby nods, he vaguely remembers that that had been part of conversation from a long time ago, he wonders has she forgotten that she's virtually naked under that dress and can't she see what the knowledge of that fact is doing to him? He takes a sharp intake of breath when he realises that, yes, she does know exactly what she's doing to him. His eyes alternate between looking at her serene, reflective, lost in memories of childhood face and the hands which are now behaving decidedly adult. She does know what they are doing doesn't she? He'd ask but that may cause them to stop touching him... like that. Besides, at this point, he's rather enjoying just going along for the ride - so to speak.

"My shopkeeper phase didn't last long," Lindsay says, her words behaving in a contrary manner to her actions. Without appearing to intend to, she opens the waistband of Bobby's shorts and her hands delve inside. "Yes, soon after that, I decided that I wanted to join the circus."

Bobby gives a strangled groan, more in reaction to her hands than her words. Lindsay's eyes lower to meet his for the first time since she sat on him, her expression is totally serious and offers no hint that she knows what she holds in her hand.

"Yes," she chuckles softly, "I was a crazy kid, but I did have talent... I was very good at juggling, practiced it by the hour."

Bobby can only groan in reply as her nimble fingers prove her point. Finding her ministrations too good, and needing her elsewhere, he musters all of his energy and, with what he believes is brilliant ingenuity under the circumstances, asks, "And... and what about... um... baton twirling? Could you do that too?"

"Oh, yeah, I was adept at that too," Lindsay drawls, then frowns, sighs, and says "I believe that skill is under-appreciated."

"Not by me," Bobby assures her, "I.. uh..."

Lindsay smiles, then says, "Oh, but Bobby, you've always been a man of distinguished tastes."

Bobby smiles at her. Lindsay can call him an ugly insensitive toad while doing what she's doing and he'd take it as the greatest of compliments.

"There's a secret to baton twirling, Bobby. Did you know that?"

"Aah, oooh," he answers when she begins to demonstrate.

"Okay, I will tell you," she says, obviously hearing his thoughts because his voice isn't co-operating.

"You have to look at it as an extension of yourself, become one with it, be firm but gentle. You have to keep your fingers loose and supple, but never, ever, relinquish control. Most of all you must, must, must, pay attention to the baton, because what's easy to forget is that it has a mind of its own, and the moment that you drop your guard you risk it coming crashing down on you... and we don't want that do we?" she pouts a little, offering him a melodramatic moue.

Bobby shakes his head rigorously, agreeing one hundred percent, oh, no, no-one wants to lose control of the baton before the shows over, no crashing before the encore, no- siree, we don't want that!

"But no one really ever attends a circus hoping for baton twirling, do they?" Lindsay says with a tinge of disappointment.

Bobby's eyebrows raise in a 'they don't' gesture, not sure what's going on but if it keeps feeling this good, almost too good, he isn't interrupting.

Lindsay shakes her head, no, and mumbles, "Under appreciated, sure there's a polite response, but nothing like the reaction to sword swallowing."

Bobby's eyes close in a grimace as even the suggestion sets him on overload. 'Over too soon, too close, too much, can't hold it, Baby you do and its all over, can't fight it,' he considers saying but all he manages is a few muttered curses smothered in groans as he feels his body spiralling out of control.

Thankfully Lindsay is still in command, taking charge, she uses a good firm grip to avert the crisis. Reciting old baseball scores, while picturing his top fifty ugliest clients, soon has Bobby seeing straight again.

"Welcome back," Lindsay says a little too happy with herself in Bobby's opinion but he's powerless to do anything about it. She leans forward and gives him a chaste kiss before whispering, "We'd better leave that demonstration for another time."

Bobby grunts his reply as she sits back up again. She looks down at him with that same angelic expression that's been tormenting him since the game began. He has no idea what expression his own face is offering but doubts very much it is angelic; his body is filled with lust, but what his heart feels is pure awe.

"I tried my hand at a lot of things, Bobby, but what I decided I liked best was magic."

"Magic?" Bobby asks, not sure what she plans but at this stage he's willing to follow her anywhere. Compliance in a man is easily won, as much as he vehemently disputes the fact, time and again, Lindsay proves that with one touch from her Bobby will agree to anything.

"Uh, huh," she hums, "I liked making things disappear."

Bobby swallows nervously, not sure that he wants anything to disappear, he's liking everything right where it is.

"I'm good at it too," she smiles coyly, then adds, "If I do say so myself, want me to show you?"

Bobby nods, it's not like he could ever say no. Lindsay rises on her knees, releasing him with one hand, she reaches for the hem of her dress, raising it enough for the hint of curls to appear. Positioning herself over him, she says, "Now you see it," then sinks down, enclosing him in her fiery depths as she says, "Now you don't."

Laughing, Bobby says, "Again."

Lindsay smiles, "You liked that?"

When he nods, she rises and drops again, "Practice makes perfect, Bobby. I think that I should practice some more, don't you?"

Bobby nods, his hands move to rest on her hips, helping her rise and fall. He really can't believe that this is happening but he sure as hell isn't going to bring an end to it just yet. His mind is totally blown by what she's doing to him, it's broad daylight, and though they've only seen a few people on this stretch of beach, people are around. As he looks at her he knows that should someone come by, she'd probably take an apple from her bag and, like his very own Eve, sit there on him, her dress covering their actions, a prim and proper, butter-wouldn't-melt-in-her mouth innocent look on her face, all the while practicing kegels and driving him insane with the sensation.

He loves it when Lindsay turns wild on him, loves the glimpse of the seductress that she can be and the knowledge that she's discovered this side of herself only with him. These impromptu appearances are almost more than he can handle, taking him from 0-100 in less than a nanosecond. The worst thing is that she knows exactly what it does to him, knows the power that she holds over him. The best things is that this knowledge is enough to send her tumbling down the precipice with him.

"Kiss me," Bobby groans, needing to distract her, and give himself time to regroup.

Planting her hands by his sides, Lindsay leans forward to comply. Halfway there, though, she pauses, as a look of complete ecstasy replaces the composure that she's conveyed until now.

"There," Bobby asks, unnecessarily, then gives his hips an extra surge.

"Oooh, yeah... right there... oh oh, there... don't move, I mean move, but don't move... oh God!... yeah, there."

It doesn't take long at all for Lindsay to catch and pass Bobby. After she collapses boneless onto his chest, he finally gets the kiss that he had asked for. Kiss complete, Lindsay raises enough to enable her to balance on her elbows and whisper into his ear. Her string of carnal promises are more than enough to end this game... but good.

After a number of attempts to talk, Bobby is again able to coax his tongue to form consonants and says, "If this is what you're like when you wear a bikini, then I'm implementing a new dress code at the office."

Lindsay raises her face and smiles down at him, "You just broke our pact, your ass is mine, Bobby-boy."

"I think my ass is broken," he moans pathetically.

"I don't care, as long as I get fed tonight, I'll be happy, lets go."

She's standing and reaching for her bag almost before Bobby has registered that she's left his body. Not wanting to be bested yet again today, he lurches for the bikini briefs before she can get to them. Smiling, Lindsay says, "Okay you can clean up all this crap if you really want to, so, I'll meet you back home."

She takes a couple of exaggerated steps towards the house, then says, "Oh, and I'd button up before that elderly couple get any closer, if I were you, Bobby."

After having almost caused himself bodily damage, in order to return himself to decency, Bobby turns to see an empty beach behind him, he listens to Lindsay's laughter as she walks away and thinks, okay, maybe he'll wait until tomorrow before trying to best her as she seems to be on a roll today.

Bobby lays back down, hands crossed behind his head and thinks about the amazing woman that he's fortunate enough to be sharing his life with. Admittedly, she keeps him guessing from one minute to the next about who she is, but, no matter who he discovers by his side, he loves her, every single strange and wonderful part of her. Closing his eyes, the heat and power of the sun pales into insignificance when compared to Lindsay, and Bobby decides to follow her home, confident now that his legs have regained the strength to carry him. With a sigh, he rises, looks at the mess that he's been left with, thinks to himself, Bobby you are so whipped, smiles and begins packing up, eager to return home.

~~~~~~~

    To be continued

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