Hot water dripped from the ends of his hair, running down his cheeks and into his mouth. He wiped his mouth with his hand, spreading more water around. Strands of hair, absent of curl, stuck to his forehead, covering his eyes. Pushing them out of his face, he squinted, noticing something rather...off. Perhaps he'd never paid attention, but with not much else to look at, he couldn't help but stare at the marks on her side, like scars from a wound.

"What are those?" he asked, bluntly pointing at them. 

Hannah turned in his direction, keeping the shampoo out of her eyes. "What?"

"Those marks on you, like some sort of..." His words cut themselves off as he couldn't think of how to describe them without sounding vulgar. Unless he completely wasted himself one night and she had been too ashamed to remind him of whatever events took place afterward, he was completely clueless. "...who did that to you?"

"No one." He raised his eyebrows. "They're birthmarks."

"No, are ya' sure?" he asked, taking a step closer. She pressed some fingers to her skin to stretch it out, getting a good look herself. The marks were dark in color, in stark contrast to her pink skin. Not worryingly dark, but certainly noticeable surrounded by scenery as plain as shower walls and shampoo bottles. They practically littered one side of her body, running from her hip to just under her chest. She turned around, giving Angus a view of the same spots running along her back. 

"I've had them for years," she explained, running her hands under the water. "Not since birth, but a long time."

"I've never seen those before," Angus said, still curious as to why she had so many of them, and why they were so big. 

"I have one on my leg too." Angus reflexively turned his head away, as if she was about to show him the mark on her leg. Rather she continued to push the shampoo through her hair, closing her eyes as some stray water drops hit her face. No one said anything for a minute. "What did you think they were?"

Either the bathroom was too hot, or the embarrassing question gave his face a strong flush, and he shrugged his shoulders, his words a stutter.

"I-I jus' th-thought..." He cleared his throat when his voice cracked. "They really don't look like-" He swallowed. "like birthmarks."

"What do they look like then?" Hannah almost had a smile on her face, one of teasing. He shrugged again, looking at his feet.

"...they look like hickeys." His face flushed again when she laughed at him. "What's so funny?"

"Do you remember any incident at all that that might have happened?" she asked waggling her head. 

"No! That's what had me so curious, I don't remember givin' those at all." He accidentally stared at them, suddenly and inexplicably relieved they were not what he thought they were. He started laughing in spite of himself. "Had me goin' for a minute."

"I'm not the biggest fan of them," Hannah said, wrinkling her nose as she inspected them again. "I know they're benign but I don't like the look of them. There's too many." Angus stepped a bit closer, giving her the smuggest grin he knew how to muster.

"Would you have liked them more if I had given them to you?" he asked, now her face flushing bright red. 

"Uh, I uh-can't really-I don't know," she said, easing her way around him, the shower wall awfully cold against her shoulder. "I suppose they'd go away, wouldn't they?"

Angus shrugged. "Perhaps. An' I'd have to give more of them then, eh?" He laughed at her expression, joyfully getting her back for scaring him senseless, especially when he was naked. Some excess water still dripping off his hands, he flicked his wrist at her, the drops flying off and into her eyes.

"Hey!"

"'T's what ya' get, eh? Go on, have a turn to wash up," he said, letting her step under the running water. Shampoo cascaded down her hair onto the floor, Hannah almost standing like a child to rinse herself off. Angus meanwhile grabbed a washcloth and a soap bottle. Before he was finished, something cold landed on his scalp. "What are you-"

"Helping," Hannah said, letting the shampoo collect on his hair. Angus sniffed the air, trying to guess which of the two shampoo bottles she chose. 

"Which one is this?" he asked.

"Which one?"

"You use the one with the flower or the watermelon on the bottle?" Hannah looked at the bottle she was holding, a hint of green peeking out from under her thumb. 

"The watermelon."

"Good," Angus said, running the washcloth over his arm. "I've used the flower one before, it smells God awful."

"What are you talking about, it smells fine!"

"Smells like someone had to take a shit at the factory an' all the toilets were full," Angus muttered, eyeing the bottle in her hand. "That one smells fine, nice an' fruity."

"It doesn't smell that way when I use it," Hannah said, straightening her shoulders from pride. 

"You wash it out, an' the smell goes away," Angus argued. "But I used it once to try it out an' almost didn't make it out alive." Hannah laughed at his exaggeration as she scrubbed the soap in his hair. "'Bout damn near drowned after passin' out on the fuckin' floor."

"You're ridiculous," she said, looking at him once to grin at the tongue he stuck out at her between his teeth. Taking small sections of hair in each hand, she molded and sculpted whatever she could out of his hair, doing her best to keep any of it from falling, or slinging soap in his eyes. 

"You messin' up my hair?" Angus asked, lightly tossing the washcloth on the soap dish, holding as still as he could. 

"Not much to mess up anyway," she mumbled, concentrating on her task. "I'm trying to make it stand up." a good amount of it had cooperated with her hands and stood up on his head on its own, some of it in the back still hanging around his ears. "Looks very handsome."

"You're too kind," he said, batting his lashes at her. Raising a hand to feel it, soap covered his fingers and all his hair toppled over onto his face. "Ah, shit!"

"Are you alright?" Hannah stepped out of the way of the water and let Angus stand under it, one palm covering his eyes. 

"Fine, love, jus' fine," he muttered, wincing from the sting. "Now how 'bout handin' me a towel for Christ's sake?" Thankful the towel rack hung right by the shower, Hannah opened the door, letting a blast of cool air hit her body. Grabbing the hand towel, she touched it to Angus' face, the man taking it for himself and covering his eyes. "Fuck, that hurts."

"I'm sorry, Angus, I didn't mean to-"

"It ain't your fault, sweetheart, don't worry about it. I'm mad at the pain, not at you." Hannah hung her head, fiddling with her hands. A sort of smile crept up on Angus' face. "I was the one who knocked it over like a domino anyway, eh?"

"If it makes you feel any better, I still think it looks very handsome," Hannah consoled, staring at the soapy mess on Angus' head. A good amount had slipped down the drain, crowding around the outline of his feet. A nest of knots and nonsense topped his head, something that would break the comb trying to fix it. Deciding to be of help one more time, Hannah sorted through the tangles, combing through with her fingers as gently as she could. Angus would wince every now and then, Hannah unsure if from her actions or the shampoo still clouding his vision. Little by little, Angus eased the towel away from his eyes, blinking rapidly each attempt. 

"Alright, I don't think I've gone blind this time," he teased, handing back the hand towel. Hannah hung it back where it was and closed the door, steam quickly building up again. Angus made a noise of disgust, rubbing his left eye. "Hope you're havin' a nicer time than me?"

"I'm certainly not having a worse time," Hannah commented, Angus choking out a laugh. Hannah cracked a grin at the circumstances. "I thought showers were supposed to be romantic."

"When have the two of us ever been romantic?" he asked, throwing the last word out with a sort of accent. "Please, you and me are a couple o' moths dinin' by the light of a bug zapper."

"Surely we're not that bad."

"Alright, maybe not," Angus shrugged. "You're a bit more of a butterfly than a moth anyway." Hannah nodded.

"Oh, that's much better, thank you," she said, taking the washcloth and the soap. She used her forearm to wipe away some water that had dripped down her nose. "You're more of a firefly yourself."

"Why, 'cause I got a big glowin' rash on my arse?" Hannah just about doubled over with laughter, nearly dropping the contents in her hands. Angus rolled his eyes, a big grin creeping up. "At least I don't have a hickey tattooed on my hip. You could be a ladybug. Heh, suppose that makes it a bit more romantic, eh?"

"You are absolutely a pain!" Hannah swatted him with the washcloth, hitting his cheek.

"Oh yeah? Let's see...rash pain or hickey pain?" He ducked another swat, collecting water in his palms and throwing it. "One way to get a girl soakin' wet, eh?"

"Oh, you're gross!" She set the bottle down, using the washcloth as a flimsy sword, hitting his arms and shoulders. He stepped back to lean against the wall, holding a hand up and turning his head away in case he should get slapped again. Hannah didn't hold back, shouting some nasty things as she swung the washcloth. All in good jest, of course. "You dirty little-piece of-"

"Oi, that's enough outta you, Missy," he said, ceasing to retreat into the wall, and grabbing her by the arms. The washcloth flapped back and forth, hitting both of them in the face until it flew out of Hannah's hand, landing somewhere on the floor by the drain, collecting drops of stray water. 

With both arms grabbed and pinned down, Angus wrapped his own around her, hair covering his eyes dripping water on his face, leaning his head against hers, and imitating her pout of an expression. "Don't make that face at me, I ain't the one cursin' up a storm an' hittin' a friend."

"I'm not the one making obscene jokes and gestures like I'm in high school again," Hannah retorted, sticking her tongue out. Angus stuck his out too, continuing to make faces until she smiled again. Until she laughed again. Letting her get herself under control, he gently rocked them back and forth, the sound of the water drowning them in their thoughts.

"You got some soap on your hair," Angus observed, wiping it away with his hand. "An' I got soap in other various nooks."

"Sorry about that."

"Don't be," Angus said, closing his eyes for half a minute, before opening them and pulling up Hannah's right arm from its prison. "How're your arms, any better?"

"A little bit. They don't itch at all anymore. And they don't get red as often."

"Have they bled any?"

"No, not since I've scratched them a while ago. They feel a bit better." After inspecting the arm a few seconds more, looking around for any unnoticed burns (and other suspicious birthmarks), he let her go and rested his chin on her shoulder, closing his eyes and humming to himself. Whatever it was it wasn't very good, and they both knew that. But neither one cared, and simply chose to relax into the other one without commenting on Angus' vocal abilities. Without the water to hug them in warmth, the little shower was rather cold, and Hannah shivered a bit. Steam clouds kissed them every so often as if little displays of affection witnessed only by the two of them. Each minute was a gem in a treasure chest full of memories they had built together and filled together, the bottom seemingly nonexistent. 

With one hand lightly scratching her shoulders, Angus inquired some more. "How're you feelin' about Queensland?"

"The same as always," Hannah replied. "Excited to be there, I suppose." 

"You'll have fun," Angus assured her, moving her bangs out of her eyes. "Bon'll get a bit drunk, ya' know. Swept away in the waves...Mal might jus' get some sand in his mouth, ya' know...Ya' never know."

"What about you?" Hannah asked, staring down at him. 

"Me?" He raised his eyebrows. "Eh, I'll probably meet some blonde beach babe, ya' know, run off into the sunset, an' get hitched an' all that." Hannah grinned, looking away from his eyes and down towards his shoulder. "Get a nice beach house an' live a while there. I'm a bit excited myself, ya' know."

"Promise you won't forget me when you run off and get married?" Hannah asked, playing along. Angus pressed his forehead against hers, eyes darting across her own. 

"I won't," he promised. "No matter how hard I try..."

"Oh, get bent!" Angus murmured a laugh to himself, quieting it to a low hum. The smile faded a bit, his gaze narrowing. 

"You-you're feelin' alright, though?" he asked getting back on the topic. "In-in general, I mean." Hannah raised an eyebrow.

"Have you been talking to Malcolm?" she asked getting Angus to purse his lips. 

"Probably, he is my brother." He loosened his grip on her, looking into her eyes which had cast themselves downwards to her feet. "He might have mentioned you were a bit nervous."

"Is that all?"

"Well-it's all he told me." Hannah didn't answer, the sound of the water making it difficult to think straight. "Is that all you're tellin' me?" Waiting for an answer took a few minutes. 

"I've just been feeling-funny is all."

"Funny?"

"Yes, funny." Angus narrowed his eyes, thinking up all the definitions he knew of the word, 'funny'. "Not sick, just-"

"Funny," he finished for her. She nodded, looking up at him sheepishly. "Feelin' funny isn't usually a good thing."

"I'm sure it's nothing, I'll bet it's nerves for the trip."

"We've been on several trips, have you always felt funny on any of those?" Hannah couldn't recall. "Funny. Huh. If you start feelin' sick or somethin', you'd better tell me, alright? You think perhaps you've finally caught my flu bug? From all your kissin' me?"

A smile graced her lips. "You know what, I'll bet that's it. It's decided to show up right on our holiday vacation." She sighed, knowing how inopportune this timing was. "Fancy that."

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart, I'll take care of ya'. Hope you're not as bad as I was, ya' know." Time passed around the two, water from the shower head dropping like sand in an hourglass, intimating an eternity. A few stray drops hitting his face woke Angus out of his sleepy trance and he opened the door. "Cliff ought to be here any minute, an' we don't need him catchin' us like this," he mumbled, stepping out onto the rug on the floor. He shivered against the sudden cold, grabbing a big towel off the hook. Hannah stood under the water, holding her arms crossed over her as the cool of the fan chased the hot steam away. Securing it around his waist, he grabbed a second one and opened it, holding it out against the open door. "Come on then, dry off." Hannah stepped out, Angus wrapping the fluffy towel around her and grabbing a few things off the counter. "You can change in here, I'll slip out for the bedroom." He used one hand to keep his towel in place. "Hope Cliff ain't out there yet, 'cause if this bugger slips off I'm buyin' him dinner."

Waves as green as emeralds soaked up the sand, mixing with a gorgeous tan. With the city gleaming behind them, the water sparkled and shimmered over the horizon, the sun beginning to set behind them. A few other people were still outside, some walking the length of the beach hand in hand, some relaxing on the shore with beach towels, waiting for the fireworks. And some stayed in their swimsuits splashing in the water, holding contests and the waists of significant others. One man, dressed as Santa Claus, stood under a tent holding a basket and ringing a bell. Another Santa Claus had taken to a lounge chair, soaking up the last rays of sun in a speedo. Well, this one wasn't a real Santa Claus anyway.

Smiling from ear to ear, a young woman pulled a man behind her, kicking her shoes off and running towards the water. "Come on, Cliff, this will be fun!"

"I'm not sayin' it won't be, Georgie, but I'm not quite wearin' the shoes for it."

"That's your own fault," she teased, letting him catch up. "What's a little water anyway?"

"Water an' sand, an' little crabs in my shoe?" Angus caught the snicker Bon tried to keep in and knew exactly why it birthed in the first place. 

"Take 'em off then, come on!" Georganne took off for the waves again, wading a few feet to wait for Cliff. "Linda, Mal! Come in with us!"

"Come on, Mal, it'll be fun."

"I don't doubt it," Malcolm said sliding his shoes off. "Oi, Ang! You comin'?" Angus scanned the beach for Hannah, who had kept herself busy talking to Phil and Bon, both of whom came alone on this trip. Everyone had expected Silver to make an appearance if just to keep Bon company in bed, but her relationship with the band proved their reality different. Had Bon took a vacation by himself, surely she would have joined him. Malcolm still looked at him, expecting an answer, and simply leaving Angus to make a decision on the beach without him. Both couples were in the water by now, Cliff having taken Georgeanne on his shoulders as payback for a rather unwanted shower of salt water. 

Unheard of being left out of any fun within a ten-foot radius, Bon took off down the sand, clothes and shoes still attached, and threw himself in the water. Malcolm took the brunt of the splash, falling backward. Angus grinned, hearing Hannah laugh from a few feet away. The sound that came next could easily compare to that of a dog having its tail stepped on. Phil took it upon himself to pick her up from the shore and carry her over his shoulder to join the others. Her hat fell to the sand, the same one Angus had given her so long ago. Watching Phil run into the water with a laughing Hannah on his back, the young man approached the hat, sand falling from the bill. Faded patches covered the top and some fabric had been torn. It was still blue, but hardly the shade of the incoming waves. He picked it up from its fresh grave and walked the length of the shore, the laughter growing further away. 

Wind beat his back, which wrestled with the hot sun burning his neck. He considered removing his shoes if only to find relief in the cold sand beneath him. A sandy Christmas could be just as good as a snowy one. Water snared his feet as it tickled the beach, going back and forth in a collection of tides. Nearby stood an abandoned castle, its walls crumbling onto a moat of seashells. 

Further up the beach seemed a rut. Bits of wet sand met the sun surrounding a trail carved by foot in the shape of a heart. Inscribed inside were the words, "I love you Susan" and a signature containing nothing but the letter R below it. Angus knew it wasn't the same Susan but his mind couldn't help but wander back to the woman of his childhood fantasies. 

Married already with three soon to be four kids. Only recently had he been thinking about kids of his own, since Malcolm mentioned he and Linda wanting one. And here Susan wasted no time having four. Had their futures turned out differently that might have been him with four kids. The longer he thought about it, the more he realized he did have four kids. Five actually, and they were all playing in the water a hundred meters away. And if he was honest with himself he was a kid as well. 

Admittedly though, Susan had done well for herself. Got out of an abusive relationship to marry a doctor. In some ways, it paralleled Hannah's own life, though it made him nauseous to even think of Hannah being in a relationship with that man. What he had tried on her was bad enough. I ain't gonna force nothin', he thought to himself.

A faint sound behind him drew him out of his thoughts. Before he had a chance to turn around, a pair of wet snakes encircled his waist and hoisted him into the air. "Little runaway, eh?" Bon asked turning on his heel and walking back to the group. 

"Put me the fuck down, Bon." Bon ignored the request.

"I think the fuck not, Angus. An' there are kids on this beach, ya' know? They could hear you." Angus smiled looking over his shoulder to see the water getting closer, the laughter getting louder, and the waves getting stronger. 

There were indeed kids around, sitting with their parents on beach towels, a few of them craning their necks to see the ruckus in the water. A couple of older people noticed the band's presence, and surely a few secret pictures were snapped. Not that Angus' minded a few pictures of his arse in the air, he was used to it. Albeit there usually were fewer pants in the equation. "Bon, what the fuck are you doin'?"

"Bottoms up, Ang." And with a great heave, Angus flew off the man's shoulders and hit the water below him, taking out a few other band members as well. Bon laughed the hardest, knowing Angus probably would have laughed too if he didn't have water in his mouth. 

"Glad you could join, Ang." Malcolm held his hands up to block the water Angus threw at him. "Stop that, I didn't throw you in!"

"Your idea though, wasn't it?" Angus asked. His shirt clung to his skin, the water from his hair dripping onto his sunburnt neck. While it did feel better to be cooled from the hot sun, being taken against his will crossed the line. During the trek to the water (or from being thrown in), his pants had rolled up his legs, and the water held them in place. 

"Hannah's idea actually," Bon answered for him. Angus turned around and didn't see her right away. When he did find her struggling out of Cliff's grip with Georganne doing her best to help free the poor girl, she caught his eye and gave him a little wave. Wrinkling his nose in return, Angus searched the water for the blue hat he dropped. Sun hit the sparkling water just right making it painfully difficult to see. Malcolm stepped back to give him room when he stepped on something.

"Oi, this what you're lookin' for?" Malcolm held the hat out to him, the light blue turned a dark royal. 

"Thanks," he mumbled. He ignored the man's shadow lingering over him.

"I don't know if you noticed, Ang, but there appears to be a damsel in distress over there." Bon motioned over to Cliff's captive, Phil thinking it rather fun if he helped. Georganne had taken Hannah's ankles in her hand, retrieving her from the 'mean little louts'.

"Georganne's got her, don't she?" he asked seeing the sight for himself. "I think it's what the little minx gets." Bon tsked through his teeth. 

"If you say so." Suddenly not knowing what to do with himself, Angus stood there, inspecting the hat to kill time. A loose thread on the inside caught his attention for a mere minute. "You're not gonna dry off any quicker standin' here, Ang."

"You're not gettin' any more girls standin' here talkin' to me," Angus retaliated with a sigh. "Silver ain't comin'?"

"I invited her. Said she was busy, ya' know. With what I dunno, but I don't think she's comin'." Bon's knee lifted out of the water straining to see what he stepped on through it. 

"She's been busy a lot these days, eh?" 

Bon shrugged. "We've been busy too. Or at least, you an' Mal have."

"George too. I know he's not producin' this album or anythin', but he's been thinkin'." George's name piqued Bon's interest. 

"Does he need me to play the bagpipes again?"

"Nothin' like that." Angus and Bon walked through the water squinting from the sun lying low on the horizon. Malcolm's voice rang out behind them, a few strangers having found the group and desiring some conversation. "He's thinkin' the band ought to move to London."

"London?" Bon repeated.

"Says the business up there is preferable an' we'll have better resources to get us higher up ya' know." Bon looked over his shoulder. 

"Do they know?"

"Mal does."

"Does he agree with him?"

"A little bit," Angus replied. "He knows London's got the best people to go to for things like this an' we can record the next album up there with better equipment than the shit we got thrown at us."

"When did he tell you this?"

"George told us last night at Mum's place. I don't know what I think...I mean, I agree with 'em an' all. If you get famous in Europe you're doin' all right, ya' know?"

"What makes you hesitate?"

"Hannah," Angus answered truthfully. "Her job is down here. She just got it transferred down here last year an' I hate to make her change it again. An' I know she doesn't like to travel much, which she knew what she was gettin' into with that. I feel bad though."

"Her little writing gig?" Angus nodded, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and feeling awfully disappointed as they were soaked. "She do anything else?"

"She paints. She tries to make time for it anyway, an' it's hard findin' an art store to get anything anyway."

"London prolly has some good stuff, ya' know," Bon thought. "They're a busy place over there."

"And then...there's the rabbit," Angus mentioned. "An' her litter she had a while back."

"What are you gonna do with 'em?"

"Sell them," Angus shrugged. "We decided to give them to a vet an' maybe find someone who will take them if they've been taken care of medically, ya' know. It's a lot of work to move one rabbit as it is from one place to another."

"Does Hannah know about movin'?" Bon asked kicking up a bit of kelp. 

"Haven't told her. Thought about tellin' her today but I'm not really in the mood." He smiled to himself. "Maybe I ought to tell her for her little idea today. Gettin' me all wet."

"Ya' know Ang, I think the best payback for that is gettin' her wet in return," Bon stated making Angus scoff. "An' lay off it, she's jus' havin' fun, yeah?"

"Funny little thing she is," Angus mumbled. He took a glance behind him to see what trouble she'd gotten herself into, but the appearance of cameras and curious strangers got the best of her and she vanished. Scanning the beach he saw nothing except a few tiny footprints headed up the shore. Clenching the hat he turned around and waded through the water to follow them. "I'm off, Bon, I'll see you in a bit for the fireworks then."

"Take my advice, Ang," Bon called after him. "Get her wet!"

Angus' middle finger was the last thing Bon saw before the figure turned a corner behind a big rock. 

Sitting on the sand with her knees pulled up to her chest was a shivering Hannah. Angus took the spot next to her and set the hat on her head. "Hello," she muttered in surprise.

"Hello," Angus replied making himself comfortable. The sand was still warm but the water was beginning to chill. "I'd uh, give you a jacket if I had one."

"That's alright." She leaned on him instead, Angus closing his eyes. 

"So what's a young lady such as yourself doin' here?" he asked.

"I don't like cameras." Angus opened his eyes and saw a multitude of people getting their pictures taken with the band, Linda and Georganne stepping aside for their own conversation. They didn't look like they meant any harm, but it was nice to enjoy themselves without the extra company. At least for a few minutes. 

"This is nothin'," Angus said. "We've had swarms of people, dozens of people surround us on the street. All of them conveniently with pens and things...course that means we don't have to snoop around for pens on our own." He moved a few strands of hair away from her eyes and she looked up at him. He had yet to find another pair to contend with them, they were the biggest he'd ever seen. Maybe they didn't always shine, maybe they weren't the prettiest color, but boy were they hard to look away from. "None of us like it all the time, but it means we're gettin' known, our music is sellin'. An' ya' know that keeps a roof over our heads."

"Hey, my writing sells too," she said giving his arm a little pinch. "And I've had a few people like my paintings as well. Of course, those aren't as good and not getting much better I'm afraid."

"I like 'em. If you ever want a nude model or somethin' I can take a crack at it."

"Do you think anyone will want a picture of you on their wall naked?" He shrugged.

"Some people already have photos," he said. "But actually I was thinkin' maybe I'd be the artist this time around, ya' know?" Sticking his tongue out he giggled at the little face his friend gave him. "It's strictly professional, I ain't gonna try anything."

"You ain't gonna paint anything," Hannah replied using his shoulder as an armrest. "I suppose next you'll write a smut column for my newspaper."

"Well, I do have a touch of experience." Crossing his arms at his cleverness, he leaned back against the rock and listened to her laugh. She was disgusted yes, but her dirty mind always got the best of her, and she found humor in it. Behind the rock, the visitors were still there, Bon and Cliff having a great time entertaining them. Shadows from umbrellas littered the area and some people were gathering their children to head back to their respective hotels. A few stayed out, waiting for the festive fireworks promised every year. Looking toward the sun he could see it beginning to set, but it'd be a few minutes before total darkness. Standing up, he offered Hannah his hand. "Here, take a walk with me."

She stood up with his hand in hers. "Why?"

"There's a few things we ought to talk about."

Their footsteps fell to the darkness behind them as they walked the length of the beach. Their clothes still stuck to their skin and the air grew colder. Hand in hand, hearing the cheers and yells of gathering crowds setting up to watch the fireworks. Bon had gathered Malcolm over his shoulder, a bottle of whiskey he found in his hand, ignoring Malcolm's request to be set down. Linda offered no help, rather taking company to Georganne for a few minutes. Cliff and Phil stood knee-high in the water while the growing waves splashed over them. 

"What about Cara?"

"Can't very well leave her behind, yeah?"

"I meant does she know?" Angus shrugged, smoking a brand new cigarette from a pack he bought. 

"She's still pretty young ya' know? I think if Mal's thinkin' about it he's let Linda and Cara know too. But it won't mean a pinch to her, as long as her parents are with her."

"What about Hermione?" Hannah couldn't bear the thought of leaving her precious rabbit behind. "And her children? We still have to take them all to a vet."

"Hermione can come too, of course," Angus assured, knowing good and well Hannah would not have given him a choice. "She's our rabbit, ya' know. I'd let her kids come too but it's easier if they stay here, ya' know? Find a vet close by that can do all she needs to an' then we send them off to people, or the vet can take 'em, I dunno." He waved a cloud of smoke away from his face. 

"Those poor bunnies. I wish they could stay with their mother."

"I bet they're clawin' the cage tryin' to get out," Angus laughed. "I wonder what Mr. Nelson's puttin' 'em through..."

Two slippers shuffled across the floor, belonging to a man with a teaspoon in his right hand and a glass of water in the other. The spoon clanked against the glass leaving a high note to echo through the kitchen, making four pairs of rabbit ears to perk. "Sounds nice, huh? I used to be able to play a whole song using only spoons and glasses. They fill up the glasses with different amounts to get the notes right." He hit the glass again. "You rabbits are awfully small. I always thought Angus would get himself a dog. Or a cat." He shuffled to the living room, still talking. Hermione took to grooming her son's fur. Setting the glass on the coffee table, he took to a nightstand and opened the drawer. "This apartment doesn't allow pets. But I got a hamster anyway." He rifled through the drawer, picking up papers, a leadless pencil, and a newspaper article. "Angus is a good guy, ya' know? I've known him for a long time. Got himself a nice wife too. I wasn't invited to the wedding, I couldn't go anyway. Need to feed my hamster." He closed the drawer and made his way to a rack hosting a collection of albums. Mr. Nelson inspected each and every one. "It's really too bad he couldn't get a dog. One that didn't have to be in a cage all the time." The last album was titled "Who's Next" and he set it down. His eyes wandered up to the new clock on Angus' wall, showing the correct time. "Now that's a nice clock." He stepped closer to have a better look. "I wonder where he collected a specimen like that. Angus really is a sweet man. He gave me his old one a while ago. I took it gladly. Can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want a clock like that, but I see why now. Very nice...indeed."

A few minutes later as Hermione wordlessly got herself and her children ready for bed, Mr. Nelson's voice rang out from the bathroom. "You must take after your mother, don't you?" he asked. "You don't talk much. That's okay. Angus doesn't talk much either, at least, not when he's with me." The toilet flushed and the sink turned on. "I think it's rather neat that Angus can play guitar. I've never heard him unless he's playing and one of us has our door open. I went to check my mail one day and I heard him play. He's quite good. I used to be able to play songs with spoons and glasses of water. Have I mentioned that already?"

Angus chuckled to himself. "I'm sure he'd gettin' along quite well with 'em." Hannah didn't answer. He squeezed her hand gently. "They're fine. We'll get somethin' figured out for 'em."

Upon reaching a small hidden area surrounded by a crescent of large rocks, Angus stopped walking and sat down with his back against the boulder. Hannah took her place next to him, the cigarette crushed in his fingers and set next to him. A few children began screaming, then laughing. Had Cara been a few years older she would have loved to join up with them and make a few friends, but Linda let her stay with her parents for the Christmas weekend, albeit reluctantly. Her mother was pleased to have her over, ready to spoil her with the best presents. Hannah had met the little one more than a few times, happy to have someone as small as she to take care of. A human anyway. Angus was absolutely enthralled with her when she visited. Something about her little hands taking his fingers to chew or her babbling turning to a few words now and again made him beam. Hannah teased him about being in love with the "itty bitty", as she called her.

Angus closed his eyes to the sound of the distant waves and merry children. Hannah didn't seem to mind his head resting on hers so he didn't bother moving it. His hand met with another, then a second one, ten fingers playing with the five. Angus seemed to understand it was a method Hannah adopted to calm herself down if she was feeling stressed or nervous. Her nails lightly traced the lines on his palm or gently rubbed the callouses from his guitar. She assumed he would be taking it on the trip to the beach but he left it by the bedside. It would have been nice to have at a time like this. He sighed, shifting a bit from the rock pressing against his back. "Mmm...soap in every nook an' cranny in the morning, and sand in the evening."

"You didn't have to sit here, you know," Hannah informed.

"We'd be in New Zealand by now had we kept goin'. The trip to England would take longer then." He opened his eyes, surprised to see how dark the world had gotten. The voices of people were still audible, but no one had come to their part of the beach. The fans had all departed satisfied and any reporters had stolen away with adequate footage and photos. If any of the band came looking for the pair, Angus would have told them to bug off. "Hey." He nudged Hannah who had her eyes closed and seemed to be dozing. She stirred, looking up to meet his gaze. "Would you want to live in London?"

The question didn't seem to bother her. She was expecting it, and many others like it. Traveling the world came with marrying a musician, and for that alone she was willing to make the trip. Then came the question of her work. Sure there were newspapers to write for in England, but that would mean starting over, along with lesser pay. It would also mean leaving home. The one place Hannah knew to be a sanctuary. Where she could stay if she was having one of her bad days, or if thoughts of Travis wouldn't go away in the expected time. Where Angus and Malcolm's mother lived, who she loved with her entire heart. Then again, as expected with children, Malcolm and Angus had been given that spirit, that love by their mother. If ever she missed that special Young company, she'd always have her two best friends. 

And her rabbit of course. 

"I think it'd be nice to spend a Christmas in the cold again," she commented, finally giving a form of an answer to his question. "Have real winters with real snow."

"We have real winters," Angus said.

"Winters down here are like spring days where I'm from."

"Maybe you'll end up gettin' yourself an English accent."

"Why not you?"

"Yours is more impressionable, ya' know?" he said. "Mine is already set in, I've already been through two accents, I don't need anymore."

"I like my accent just fine," she retorted turning to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I like it too. But I remember when you first lived here before..." He swallowed. "Before you left. You were startin' to get a hint of an Aussie accent." He shrugged, smiling down at her. "Awful cute."

"I am not cute," she pouted.

"Sorry," he coughed. "How 'bout smokin' hot?"

Hannah nearly choked on her own spit. "Oh, gross!" Angus laughed quite hard at the reaction he got out of her. 

"What, you don't like that?"

"Hate it," she replied. 

"Alright, alright, so you're not cute, and you ain't smokin'. What then?"

"How about..." She scrunched her nose in thought. Angus waited patiently with his hands on her waist, fluttering his eyelashes. Finally, her nose evened out and she opened her eyes. "How about nice."

"Nice."

"Yeah."

"Nice? Of all the words used to describe my wife an' you want me to use nice?"

"You lost your naming privileges, Angus, so I came up with one." Sighing in defeat, he just looked at her. Of all the words used to describe her, nice was the last to use. In some situations, for more than one reason. 

"What would you call me?"

"You?" He nodded. "Sweet. Funny. Handsome."

"Smokin'?"

"Not right this minute, no." She pointed to the crushed cigarette he placed in the sand. He chuckled. "Maybe a little mean in the mornings."

"...you think I'm handsome?" he asked, clearly surprised but pleased by the words.

"Yes, as a matter of fact." He wasn't quite done yet.

"Would you say I'm boyishly handsome, or Vogue magazine handsome?"

"Handsome."

"That's not an answer." Hannah sighed.

"Listen. No man on earth has ever looked as good as you do right now, and no man ever will," she finished, wondering if that would satisfy him.  She asked him if it did. 

"I think you might be stretchin' the truth a bit, sweetheart."

"It's still a hell of a lot better than what you said about me," she said. She relaxed against him, taking in the last few drops of daylight quickly fading behind them. A few stars had made their appearance, twinkling amidst navy ink. Angus took notice of them, then turned to see Hannah's eyes. He thought to himself.

"Well then, how's this," he started. "There ain't one damn star in that sky that sparkles like those damn eyes of yours. Eh?" he asked, waiting for her approval. Despite his choice of wording, Hannah began to blush, thinking he really was rather sweet and how glad she was that it was so dark outside. "That better?"

She smiled. "Thank you, Angus." He smiled back, keeping his eyes glued to the stars just inches away. Forgetting for an instant that they had anywhere to be, or that any one of their company could be worried sick about them and calling their names, they simply took in the sight of the other one, making mental note of anything else they could compliment on. Angus could see her eyes were enchanting, and her nose was...unique to say the least. Her hair was soft and her ears were sweet, but he always went back to the eyes. Two of the darkest he'd ever seen but they shone so...nice. Nice. Angus quite disagreed with that word. Even as a kid, she could be a real pain in the ass.

Knowing anything concerning asses was not what Hannah would like to be complimented on, he continued studying her face until his gaze landed on her lips. Very small, but very pink. Very structured as well he might add. But of course, usually pouting or eating, or covered in drool. Angus decided he liked them just the same. 

It appeared Hannah had been thinking the same thing when with a quick glance back to her eyes, he saw she too was staring at his own lips. They differed in many ways, but in some ways were complimentary. Which was exactly what Angus was going for. 

Waiting to see what she would do, he stayed perfectly still, not wishing to scare her away. Slowly she inched forward, apprehensive about making a move, but trusting Angus enough not to push her into anything. He just waited.

Narrowing his eyes he accepted her lips as she pressed them together much lighter than he expected. She pulled away instantly, Angus' breath caught up in his throat. In a second she connected them again, this time putting slight pressure against his. Her arms were still around his neck and she used this to pull him closer, Angus trying the same thing with his hands on her waist. The result was a slightly awkward smush, quickly remedied by Hannah tilting her head. She pulled away a second time, catching her breath before attacking him again. Angus, taken by surprise at her eagerness, wasn't one to object, however, and played along to whatever suited her fancy. He felt her move within his grasp, suddenly feeling her weight pushing him against the rock behind him. One leg on either side of his lap supported her, her neck craning to access him easier. Hugging her close to him he put more effort on his part as well, ready to stop should she say so. 

Never in a million years would he have guessed he'd be here that minute. As a kid, he'd figure he'd be in his own band, somewhere across the country with a steady girlfriend. He'd have prayed to whatever god was out there for Susan. To embrace his childhood friend in such a passionate way would have abhorred him. Loud booms shook his skull from the fireworks. The show must have started without them, Malcolm probably muttering to himself about how he knew this would happen. With a damn smug smile on his damn smug face. Putting the thought out of his mind he focused on keeping a steady attitude. Having it his way would mean a good kick in the pants, neither one hesitant that she'd do it. Instead, he gently squeezed her sides, humming to himself in content. 

Hannah pulled away a third time, changing her destination from his lips to his neck. He made the slightest gasp, keeping his eyes open lest he should lose himself completely to the strange new behavior of his wife. Moving his hands slightly upward he let her kiss him, doing his best not to let the world know he was enjoying it. Breathing steadily gradually became more difficult with each growing display of affection. Heat spread throughout his face and neck and he was sure he could match a tomato. Finally giving in, he closed his eyes letting Hannah take the lead, not wanting to frighten her, as well as to relish what he could.

Everything seemed to happen so fast. One minute the rock began pushing against his back, a fact he couldn't be bothered with at the moment, and the next the pressure on his neck ceased and he was left panting in his spot, eyes fluttering open. His hands never left her side, hoping good and well whatever ended their moment wasn't his fault. Small pants fell on his neck where lips had once been, unable to cool his hot skin. Her head rested on his shoulder, holding onto his neck almost for dear life. A few moments passed before either could even think of speaking again and when they did it was broken speech.

"I-was enjoyin' that ya' know," Angus sighed.

Hannah lifted her head just enough to see him flushed in the darkness. "I could-I could tell."

To blush again would probably be hazardous to his health but he couldn't help it at a time like this. Being honest with himself he hardly noticed as the rock behind him claimed the other half of his attention. Shifting his position he wrapped his arms around her in a hug, letting her rest against him. Besides the sound of their breathing, the beach was awfully quiet. Some voices could still be heard at a distance but the fireworks had all stopped. It was then he realized they hadn't even started yet. Hannah didn't seem to want to look at him as much as he desired to see her, and he decided to use words to alleviate her embarrassment. "Hey, it was-kinda cute in a way. Oh, not cute...uh, sweet. How about that word?" He turned her head a bit to gauge her reaction to a substitute word attempting to wipe the pout off her face. "Why-why won't you look at me?"

Her nose pressed against his flesh, holding him as tightly as her position could allow her. Turning her hands to fists she clutched his shirt, feeling the fabric through her fingers. "I was kind of...enjoying it too."

"I would-I would hope so," he panted feeling the warmth in his face recede. "Nothin' wrong with that." She hugged him tighter, Angus shifting again so she wouldn't strangle him. He could feel every aspect of him calming down, his breathing getting slower and slower. His heart wasn't pounding in his head anymore. "What's gotten into you?...you okay?"

"Angus?" Her voice was muffled by his neck. "Can we...take things...slow?" she asked. Looking up at him, at last, to see what he thought, nervous when he didn't answer. "Slow-er anyway?"

"Yeah," he finally said. "yeah, of course we can." Smiling when she smiled he held her against him again, wrinkling his nose when she nuzzled gently into his neck. The water ahead of them really was beautiful. The sun had gone completely down by now, the dark blue reflecting off the waves while the stars shimmered across the surface. The moon was somewhere around, kneading the tides like bread dough. An enormous crack of lightning and a drum of thunder beat the sky, streaks of red and gold falling to the sea below. From their position they couldn't see it very well, but they were both far too comfortable to move. "I bet they're wonderin' where we are."

"They must not be too worried if they're not looking."

"Let 'em look. If they come here we'll tell 'em to get their own room, yeah?" Her laugh was a mixture of mirth and sympathy, laden with guilt at pausing their romantic endeavors. He wanted to hear it again. "Bet you'll want a cigarette of your own after that, huh?"

There it was. This time having forgotten to include the guilt. "I wouldn't want to get nicotine on your shirt."

"Oh is that all? Well, just wipe it off on your shirt then."

"Yours is black, it won't show up as well."

"An' get Daffy Duck hooked?" Angus asked referring to the picture of Daffy on the front. "I will not be held responsible for that."

"They're your cigarettes from your pack you bought with your money," she reminded him. "I think I'm scot-free.

"I think you'd really regret not bailin' me out," Angus murmured. 

"What, is a convict gonna make you their girlfriend?" Hannah laughed again, and Angus tried his damnedest not to. 

"Very fuckin' funny," he grinned. After a fashion they were quiet again, hearing the symphony of the sky cannons. A few of them reached their view, and they watched with intrigue. 

"It's just like the fourth of July," Hannah said, nuzzling again. "Sure feels like July."

"That's why we ought to live an' England a while. As you said, they get snow up there." When she didn't respond he figured she had fallen asleep. He was tempted to move and carry her back to their room when she stirred. 

"Thank you, Angus," she mumbled, Angus unsure if he heard her. He opened his mouth to ask when she beat him to it. "For being a gentleman."

"Well, thank you for bein' a lady," he responded. "Or else I gotta make a quick announcement to my family an' friends."

There is was. Again. 

"As long as we're on the subject of chivalry an' the like," he began again, smoothing a few stray hairs away. "might I be allowed to kiss you? Like a gentleman?"

Taking a minute to think over his words, and realizing he meant no ill will, she sat herself up. "Yes," she nodded. "Like a gentleman."

And he kept his promise. With the slightest pressure, he took her lips in his, breathing and heart rate as slow as they started. His hands left her waist and met up with her hair, gently running his fingers through it. Over time without either of them knowing, they grew competitive, either one proving something to the other. Whatever it was they didn't know, and they really didn't care. 

Figuring it was safe to go a little further, knowing she could stop at any time, and a bit more relaxed at having done it before, Hannah migrated to his cheek, eventually kissing his neck again. Angus wasn't sure what she meant by slow anymore, but he wasn't complaining. He couldn't if he tried, as no sound could leave his mouth. The fireworks were twice as loud as the ones in his head mixed with the real thing. He opened his eyes hoping to catch one more but soon dropped the idea. Remembering where they were, it being a public place and all, he considered stopping now unless Hannah didn't mind someone happening to come across them like this. Bullocks. Of course she would mind. 

Or, rather than stop, they could simply find a place less...inhabited. But something had to be done.

Angus managed to get his question out, hoping she heard him over the sky show. "Do you-do you wanna go somewhere else? So we're...not so out in the open?"

Hannah pulled away the fourth time that night to look him straight in the eye. "But-we'll miss the fireworks."

"Believe me, sweetheart, I ain't missin' any fuckin' fireworks."

Many 'I love you's' were exchanged that night. Many witty remarks were made along with repressed feelings exposed. Angus stirred from sleep a little later, blinking back the lack of it coating his eyes. The clock barely visible in the dark room read three twenty-four. The summer night grew warmer unlike the previous one, giving Angus a reason to open the window before they went to sleep. The leg of his pants was hanging on the edge of the bed. He kicked it off and it fell to the floor. Stretching sounded pretty good until he realized he could only get one arm out of Hannah's grip. She had fallen asleep next to him, their conversations trailing off word by word until they succumbed to slumber. Easing his other arm away, stretching, and resting it above her shoulders, he pulled the covers up over her more. In his view, the room was hot, while in hers it was rather cold. The black shirt with Daffy Duck on it changed hands and now covered her in her sleep. 

The fireworks ended some time ago with one or two more exploding at intervals. None had gone off since midnight. Gathering Hannah, who slept rather soundly for once in a long time, in his arms, he buried his face in the pillow next to her own and kissed her head. Feeling exhaustion returning, he mumbled one last confession.

"Ya' little walnut..."