((Contains reference to adult situations.))

Michael had been at it all day - it being writing. It was what writers did, after all, especially published writers who wanted to stay on the best seller lists and not be relegated to the ranks of the has-beens. Money was no object really - at least, not anymore - but money had never been his motivation. It had always been about telling a good story. Here on the small island of Liba where he and Elena had spent their honeymoon, the days were warm, and the nights were cool, and there was plenty of quiet to afford him the solitude he needed to perfect his craft.

What had been a thrown-away discussion on their honeymoon had become a reality - they had bought a small house on Liba, fully intending to return there every year, be it for a vacation, or to allow Michael some real solitude to write and be at one with his muse. As for Elena, it was a relief to be away from Rhy'Din for a little while. As much as she loved her new purpose in life, as the owner and head chef at Incredible Edibles, she needed time away from it, to keep herself from burning out from work. Here, she could give Michael his solitude and keep herself amused, enjoying the warm sun in as many ways as she could imagine before her internal clock reminded her that her husband had been sitting at his computer for almost ten hours.

Dragging herself off the soft, white sand, she padded back toward their beautiful little house. Either he was about to be interrupted, or his own internal clock had warned him she was on her way.

That was her intention, anyway, but she didn't get quite that far before he was meeting her halfway, heading straight for the beach with an excited look on his face. "Elena!" he called. "Elena! It's finished! I finished it!" he shouted, hurrying toward the door and very nearly bowling her over in his haste.

In the process of pulling a sundress on over her head as she walked, Elena squeaked as she suddenly found herself nose to nose with her husband as he shouted his excited news for anyone to hear. Laughing, she grabbed onto him to keep him from knocking her back onto the sand. "That's amazing, baby! I'm so pleased!"

"Oh, sorry!" he exclaimed as she grabbed onto him before they bounced off each other. His face was flushed, not from heat but excitement and maybe a little embarrassment to find he had almost run his own wife over with his clumsiness. "Do you wanna read it?" he asked, not without some trepidation. It was the question every writer feared and yet needed to ask. He'd been working on the movie adaptation of his latest best-selling novel for months and was both relieved and excited to have finally finished it.

"If you want me to, then sure!" Elena's smile was wide and warm, always reassuring. She had been the first to read Rhy'Din Nights, even before he had begun to revise it, but she hadn't assumed he would want her to read the adaptation. "You want me to do it right now?" She gently patted his chest, wondering when he was going to realize he had been in a different world all day, and his wife was warm and smiling and right there in front of him.

"Oh," he replied, frowning a little as he realized there was still a little daylight left and he hadn't stepped foot out of his study all day, except for food and bathroom needs. "No, I guess not," he said, looking just slightly disappointed, though it was hard to stay that way when Elena smiled at him like that. He suddenly felt a stab of guilt for having ignored her all day. More often than not his wife had to drag him away from the keyboard before he got so lost in his writing that he forgot to live.

"Tomorrow," she promised him. "But you have to promise me you won't hover over me asking if it's any good every time I turn the page." Because last time, Michael had ended up being spanked with his own manuscript when he hadn't been able to hold in his desperate need to know if every word on the page was as good as it could possibly be. "This time, I'll tie you up before I spank you."

That got a smile out of him, anyway. "Tease. Maybe my next novel should be an erotica," he said, waggling dark eyebrows at her playfully. He looked over her shoulder at the sun and surf and sand and frowned a little, wondering if it was too late to ask her to go for a swim. "You, um, done for the day?"

She giggled, leaning up to kiss him tenderly. Even now, almost a full year since they were married, he was still her drug of choice, as addictive and satisfying as ever. The bad days were few and far between now she had Michael always there to distract her from the craving that had almost destroyed her. "I was coming to winkle you out of your shell, actually," she informed him fondly. "I'm done being on my own for the day. I want some time with my husband."

"Winkle me?" he echoed laughing, amused by his wife's odd choice of words. "What exactly does that mean?" he asked, as he wound his arms around her waist. He was a writer - he knew words - but he wasn't quite sure about that one.

"Oh, it's a British thing," she laughed, happy to be embraced even if she was confusing him again. "On the boardwalks in England, you can get these things called winkles. They're shellfish. And you need a really strong fork to get them out of the shell so you can eat them. They're disgusting, by the way," she added with a wicked grin.

"Oh, I see....So, it's your way of saying you want to pull me out of my shell. I get it. I'll have to remember that one." At least, if he ever wanted to use the phrase in one of his stories. "So," he pulled her up against him. "What did you have in mind, wife of mine?" he asked with a grin. He never got tired of calling her that. Even after a year, it was still like a dream come true being with his Elena. It was no secret that she was and always had been the love of his life.

Her grin deepened as he drew her closer, nose to nose with him, green eyes sparkling with tender teasing. "Well, I thought, maybe ....since the sun is going down and you can now come outside without turning into a lobster ....we could go for a swim," she suggested, brows raised in invitation. "See if I can get those shorts off you again."

"You're lucky it's a private beach or we'd be scandalized," he remarked with a teasing and uncaring grin. He wasn't very worried about scandal, not here anyway. They'd weathered enough scandal to last them a lifetime. A little skinny dipping was hardly worth worrying about. Few here bothered them or cared who they were. It was a long way from Rhy'Din City and an even longer way from New York. He touched his forehead to hers, in no hurry to part from her just yet.

That was a hard decision to make. Locked away and intent on finishing the script, he'd been running mostly on coffee since early that morning, and yet, she posed a temptation for another kind of hunger that was hard to resist. "Hmm..." he mused quietly, brushing some blond hair back over a shoulder. "I could be persuaded to wait a little while longer for dinner." Or lunch, for that matter.

She laughed softly, leaning up to kiss the tip of his nose. "Here's a choice for you, then," she suggested. "You wait for dinner, and knowing you, fall asleep and wake up ravenous at two in the morning ....or I could just cook dinner naked. Is that any better?"

"If you cook dinner naked, you won't get much cooking done." He pulled her up against him, leaning close to brush a soft kiss against her lips, torn between two very different kinds of cravings. "Or we could be lazy and order out." Which was something of a rarity when you were married to a genius of a cook.

"Mmm, we could, at that," she murmured back to him, winding her arms about his neck as she grinned into his kiss. It certainly was rare that she agreed to order out, though there were only two places on Liba that delivered to their house. Giggling softly, Elena drew her fingers through his short hair, nuzzling close. "Does this mean you've made a decision, Mr. Donnelly?"

"Looks like it, doesn't it, Mrs. Donnelly?" he countered with a grin, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her back inside, heading for the bedroom. If she wanted to head off his hunger and order out, she was going to have to do it soon or wait until he was done with her.

She giggled as he scooped her up, long legs dangling as she applied herself to nibbling teasingly at his ear. "Sure you've got the strength for it, baby?" she murmured, wickedly mischievous. "I'd hate for you to have to give up before we're done because you're so hungry."

"I'm hungry for you," he told her, the nibbling at his ear sending a shiver up his spine. His stomach might be growling, but he had a different kind of hunger on his mind.

"You know," she murmured, between kisses, "I thought you might say that." A quiet giggle reverberated against his ear as she nuzzled close, letting her fingers do a little traveling of their own while he was busy carrying her around. She knew she could pretty much guarantee being reduced to a moaning puddle of goo the second he had complete access to her.

It wouldn't take long for that to happen, so long as his strength held out. He pushed his way into the bedroom and tossed her onto the bed, kicking off his sandals and unbuttoning his shirt.

Her flight through the air was punctuated with loud giggles, her body bouncing on the bed as she wriggled out of the sundress she had only just put back on again. Her skin was still warm from her sun bathing, a gentle tan covering her body, waiting to be explored by her lily-white husband. "Little bit eager, baby?"

Now that the script was done maybe he'd get a little more sun, though he did have a tendency to burn and freckle, instead of tan. "You said celebrate, and I can't think of a better way, can you?" he asked as he fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.

Grinning, she sat up, rising onto her knees to hook his shirt with her fingers and pull him close. As her lips played with his, she took over unbuttoning his shirt, calm and confident, even in the face of his urgency. "We have all the time we could want," she reminded him in a tender whisper. "I'm not going anywhere, baby."

She was right. At long last, they did have all the time in the world, and he intended to make the most of it, ignoring the grumbling his stomach was making. He got pulled close, letting her finish with the buttons of his shirt, while his fingers played with her bikini.

She couldn't help laughing at the grumbling coming from his stomach, stroking her fingers down over his chest and abdomen as his shirt finally came open. "Are you sure you don't wanna eat first?" she asked with a warm smile. "This sounds mighty cranky."

"How about if I just eat you?" he asked with a smirk. Okay, so she wasn't food, and she wasn't going to fill his stomach, but he didn't really care. They'd have time for food later. And with that in mind, he moved lower, fingers tugging at her panties to get at what was underneath.

She laughed at that, giving in gracefully as his hands moved lower, pushing his shirt off his shoulders even as she drew him down onto the bed with her. No matter what was happening in their lives, no matter how annoying either of them had been all day, this was one thing that never changed. They'd learned how to say everything that needed to be said with touch alone, and she wouldn't change that for the world.

And touch her he did, with hands and lips and mouth, until she was writhing in agonized pleasure and he was nearly fit to burst with anticipation. Maybe they would fall asleep and wake up at 2 am famished, but so what? There was no time schedule to adhere to, no boss to answer to. They were truly free to do as they wished as long as they wished, and right now all he wanted was her.

And he had her, for as long as he wanted. Whether an hour passed or several, the outcome was always the same ....lying together, as close as they could get, still sharing tender touches, soft kisses, basking in the absolute certainty of their own unique connection. "I love you, Michael," Elena whispered to him, as outside the sun dipped below the horizon, welcoming the coolness of the evening and night to come.

"Love you, Elena," Michael muttered as he, too, basked in the afterglow of their love, too lazy too move. He savored the peace and quiet of the moment as he stretched out beside her, half-tangled in her embrace.

She smiled, rolling onto her side to lean over him, painting his lips with lazy kisses as her fingertips smoothed through his hair. "So no writing tomorrow?" she asked softly, trying to hide just how exciting the prospect of having him all to herself for a whole day without the invasion of imaginary people into his mind was for her.

"Well ....I could always throw together some chili cheese fries," she suggested with one shoulder rising and falling in a faint shrug. "Hideously unhealthy, but screw it. We eat healthy every day."

"Sounds like a heart attack waiting to happen," he remarked with a smirk. "I like it." He lifted a hand to tug her sundress up higher on one shoulder, though they seem to have decided there would be no delivery man tonight. "What can I do to help?" Besides stay out of her way.

"Grate cheese and crush nachos," she informed him, grinning cheekily. She didn't often give him something to do when she was cooking, but she was beginning to ease up on having absolute control of the kitchen. Running a cafe and catering service was curing her of that touch of control freak.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, with an awkward salute before going about foraging for cheese and chips to do as she asked. "What would your customers think to know you were eating junk food?" he teased.

"They'd probably breathe a sigh of relief at the realization that I actually am human," Elena laughed, pulling a box of leftover chili out of the fridge to reheat. She wasn't even going to make the fries from scratch - they were going all out unhealthy this evening. "Mind you, I'd be surprised if most of them hadn't already seen that picture that was doing the rounds when I was fifteen - you know, me at Disney World, scarfing down churros like they were going out of style."

"What's it like" Disney World, I mean. I've always imagined it as being pretty corny," he remarked, popping a bit of the cheese he was grating into his mouth. He didn't really care what her customers or anyone thought of either of them. They'd paid their dues more than most and deserved a little happiness.

"To be honest, I was already drunk when I went there," she admitted awkwardly, not liking to own up to just how early she had fallen off the rails. "I remember it being loud and busy, and there being nowhere to just be me and enjoy myself. Everyone knew who I was back then. It wasn't the most restful place in the world." An explosion of sound declared that she had dropped the fries into the fryer.

"Have you ever thought about going back?" he asked, curiously. "Maybe Disney Paris instead." Hell, they had the money to go wherever they wanted now that he had another best-seller on his hands. That half a million was looking better and better, though he was trying to resist.

"Maybe," she smiled faintly, glancing over at him. "You want to go to Disney, baby?" She couldn't help smiling at the thought of her adorably serious Michael at Disney World, startled when that mental image warped itself into Michael with a couple of kids at Disney World. Blushing, she looked down at the pot as she stirred the chili, knowing neither of them was ready for that yet.

If he'd known she was thinking about children, he'd be shocked, though not in a bad way. He just didn't feel either of them was ready for such a responsibility as that yet, and he thought they deserved to live a little first before they settled down to raise a family. At least, that's what he told himself. The truth was, he wasn't sure he'd make a very good father, but he had no doubts she'd make a terrific mom. He shrugged at her question, unsure how to answer it. "Maybe, someday. I haven't been anywhere really." Except L.A., Boston, and Rhy'Din, that is.

It was difficult not to think of children in their future, with Tess' two children, Mataya's Oscar, and now Tony expecting his first child with Anya. Elena knew she was getting broody for the wrong reason, however, which was why she hadn't mentioned it at all. Jealousy of your siblings was not a good enough excuse to stop taking your pill. "Travel's not worth the effort if you don't have good company," she told Michael softly. "I think anywhere we go together would be worth it."

"We don't have to go anywhere," he said. "I just thought..." He shrugged and shook his head, as if to dismiss the thought outright. Who was he to want any more than he had" He had more than he could have ever hoped for right here in the kitchen in the form of Elena. He quietly went back to the shredding of the cheese, without any explanation as to why he'd brought up the subject of travel in the first place.

She looked up from her stirring, curiosity painting her expression. "Thought what, baby?" she asked him gently, reaching over to stroke her fingers against his shoulder. "You're allowed to dream still, you know. Just because we've got each other doesn't mean we might not want something else to happen that would bring us closer, maybe."

He'd been thinking about children, too, and what it would be like to raise a family with her, but he wasn't sure he was quite ready. Would he ever really be ready? He'd been sober for over a year. The temptation was always there, but thus far, he'd resisted. What if he slipped" What if he failed" He didn't want her or their future children to suffer because of him. "I was just thinking about my childhood," he answered, honestly enough.

Elena frowned faintly. Michael didn't often talk about his past, and she had never pushed him to do it. But perhaps she needed to push this time. If they were ever going to have children, any demons they were still carrying from their respective childhoods would have to be out in the open, at the very least. "Tell me about it?" she asked softly.

He shrugged again as if it wasn't important, pausing in his grating of the cheese, since he was mostly finished with it, anyway. "We didn't have much money, so we didn't really go anywhere. Anyway, Dad was always too busy to waste much time on things like family vacations." It was another one of those weird things they had in common - neither of them had experienced much of a relationship with their fathers. Hers had deserted her when she was still a child, and his had just never been very interested.

Ah. At least part of the penny dropped for Elena. "We'll take our kids to Disney World," she said quietly, draining the excess fat from the fries before dumping them into a large shallow bowl. "When we get to it." And they would, she was sure of that. It just might take a little while to convince themselves that it was the right time.

"I kind of wish he'd lived to see me succeed. He always thought writing was a big waste of time. He'd probably still think so. Funny how people think nothing of opening a book or turning on the television, but forget that without someone to write those stories down on paper, there wouldn't be anything for them to read or watch." He contemplated the small pile of cheese he'd shredded, as if he'd only just remembered the task she'd set him to. "Is this enough?"

"Baby, it doesn't matter what he thought," she murmured gently, abandoning the chili for a moment to wrap her arms about him. "It's a shame he didn't live to see what an amazing success you are, but that doesn't take away from what you have achieved." Her lips brushed his cheek tenderly as she looked over his shoulder. "Yeah, that's plenty. Crumble some nachos into it, and we can whack the whole thing into oven for a few minutes."

"I know," he replied, as she wrapped her arms around him in an attempt to offer some comfort. He smiled back at her, the hurt of it mostly gone. Regret was partly what had set him on a downward spiral once before, and he refused to succumb to it now. "I just wanted to make him proud of me, you know" But I guess it doesn't really matter anymore." For a young man who had mastered the piano, memorized Shakespeare, and had published his first best-seller by the age of twenty-five, it was hard to imagine anyone being disappointed with those accomplishments, but apparently, he believed it had not been enough for his father. What he failed to understand what that he probably would have never pleased the man, no matter what he'd chosen to accomplish in life.

"It's always gonna hurt a little, baby," she warned him in a gentle voice. "But you won't let that experience color the way you treat our kids. I know you, Michael. You have it in you to be an awesome dad, and I can't help hoping that I get to see that someday. Our kids will never be in any doubt that you love them and are proud of their accomplishments, whatever they might be."

"I hope so, Elena," he replied with a faint smile. There would always be a little doubt, a little uncertainty of what kind of father he'd made, until he proved to himself that his worries were for naught. "Anyway, I was just thinking if we ever have a family, I'd like to take them there. That's all."

"I know so," she promised him, squeezing one last time before returning to dump the chili over the fries and tuck the whole thing into the oven for a couple of minutes. When he was done with the cheese and nachos, they would go on top, and after about three minutes in the oven, dinner would be served.

"Are we talking about food or something else?" he teased back, smiling, eyes dancing with mischief. Now that he was wide awake, he was his usual self again, ready for anything, though there was still the matter of a grumbling stomach.

She laughed, patting his chest with an affectionate hand. "We're talking about chili cheese fries, fresh from the oven," she informed him, tweaking his chin fondly as she turned to grab the oven glove and begin the task of manhandling the large bowl out into the open.

"Right," he reminded himself aloud, somehow overcoming that other kind of hunger once again. "They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach," he remarked, though personally he thought it was through another part of his anatomy. He tilted his head to admire the view as she bent over to get the bowl out of the oven, tempted to pinch her rear, if it wasn't for fear she'd drop his dinner on the floor.

"Some men, maybe," she laughed, closing the oven with her foot before turning to head toward the door. "I vote for the porch, since you're not being forthcoming on any ideas. And no, not the bed. I only just got the chocolate stains out of the sheets from the last time we tried to eat a meal in bed."

"Party poop," he said with a teasing grin, but didn't argue. "What do you want to drink?" he asked, heading for the fridge. A couple of beers would have gone great with chili cheese fries, but those were obviously out. A couple of Cokes might have to do, instead.

"Whatever you've got at your fingertips, baby," she told him, confident that they had enough in the fridge to provide a choice for him to puzzle over while she got the hot bowl safely to the table on the porch.

Water was the usual standby, but since tonight was about being naughty and unhealthy, he thought they might as well go all out. He grabbed a couple of bottles of Coke that had been lingering in the fridge for a while untouched, pausing a moment to retrieve his shirt and don it, just in case the evening was too cool without, before following her onto the porch.

By the time he joined her, Elena had dragged the chairs away from the edge of their little porch to the table and was sitting herself down, tucking the short hem of her sundress between her thighs to prevent any accidental flashing, should anyone come by. It was unlikely, given how very private this little part of the island was, but better safe than sorry.

Michael set the pair of colas on the table, his shirt flapping in the cool evening breeze. He took a moment to light a few candles they'd left on the porch, giving the space a warm glow, in place of the harsh brilliance of electric lighting. The sun had just gone down and there was some light left in the sky, but it wouldn't last long. He could hear the song of the tide coming in against the shore. Though the moon hadn't risen yet, it would cast its silvery glow across the water soon enough.

Elena sighed contentedly, resting an elbow on the table as her fingers dragged through her hair. "I love it here," she murmured softly. "I love you." Her fingers dipped into the mixture in front of her to unearth a couple of fries heavily laden with chili and cheese.

She took the words from his mouth before he'd had a chance to say them. He leaned close to brush a kiss against her cheek with a softly-spoken, "I love you,too," before claiming a chair.

That earned him the special smile he knew well. It had matured and developed over almost ten years on television, under the scrutiny of a nation, but now that smile belonged entirely to him. She blew him a kiss before stuffing the mouthful past her lips. "Mmm ....I should make unhealthy stuff more often."

He chuckled in amusement at her remark. "We'd both be as big as a house," he remarked as he scooped up a mouthful of the mixture for himself, moaning with undisguised pleasure at the taste of it. "My wife is a genius," he said around the mouthful. "You should write a cookbook," he suggested, though he wasn't sure she'd want to give away all her secrets.

Elena laughed, pleased he liked her little adventure into the world of instant heart attack food, and genuinely amused at the idea of writing a cookbook. "You seriously think I have the attention span to write any kind of book?" she asked cheerfully, licking her fingers as she lifted her Coke to her mouth. "Or have you been talking to my ex-agent about me?"

He shrugged as if to dismiss both her questions. "How hard can it be? You write down the recipes, take some photos, and voila - you've got a book." He knew it wasn't quite as simple as that, but it seemed a lot easier than creating plot and characterization.

"Who'd buy a cookbook written by a recently drunk ex-actress with bad connections to the mafia?" she pointed out. Her reputation on Earth had been completely punctured by her bad decisions, and if she was perfectly honest, she never really wanted to go back there and face the consequences she had brought upon herself.

"You'd be surprised," he replied, knowing that people tended to be intrigued by scandal and they loved a survivor. But she didn't have to sell the book on Earth; he thought there might be interest enough here on Rhy'Din once word about her restaurant got around. "Food for thought," he told her with a grin. "Sorry about the pun."

She snorted with laughter, maneuvering a carefully balanced amount of chili from the bowl to her mouth somehow without the fries giving up halfway. "Feeling any better now you're being fed, baby?" she asked, deliberately changing the subject with a cheeky smile. "If you survive the fries, does that mean I get to see the moons' light bouncing off your bare butt later?"

"I thought that was already decided," he replied with a smirk as he took up a handful of chili-cheese-laden fries. "Sounds like there will be a couple of full moons out later," he teased in return, only too happy to comply with her request, so long as there was no one around to see them. A dollop of chili dribbled down his chin, as he devoured that handful of fries.

"Looking forward to it," she grinned back at him, forcing herself to slow down in her eating. She wasn't that hungry, she was just gorging on incredibly unhealthy food! "Good thing it stays warm around here when the sun goes down, ain't it?"

"You didn't say it was cold!" he shouted accusingly, as he splashed toward her, intent on revenge of some sort, though he hadn't decided what yet. Summer had passed, and as soon as the sun went down, the water lost some of its heat.

"It's not that cold, squeaky!" she laughed back at him, taking a huge breath in as she finally managed to convince her legs to take her to the water. "Oh, I wish I could have recorded that. You scream like a girl!"

"I do not!" he argued, looking a little irritated, though his anger never lasted very long. "You did that on purpose! You know I can't function when I'm cold!" He splashed toward, hand on hips, and not looking very fierce with his package dangling in front of him.

"Oh, baby, you function just fine, cold or hot," she promised him, sucking in a sharp breath as she waded into the water. She refused to squeak, though. Her arms wrapped about his waist as she smiled up at him. "I never told you to go running straight in, did I?"

"I thought you were going to join me!" he argued, a small mischievous smirk forming at his lips as he circled her waist and tugged her further into the chilly water. "We can still go back," he told her, as the water got deeper.

"I am joining you, aren't I?" Despite her best efforts, however, she couldn't stop a small shiver from running up her spine as he pulled her to her waist in the cool water. "What, are you giving up on your dream of skinny-dipping sex by moonlight?"

"A hot tub is sounding a lot more enticing at the moment," he said with a frown. He had been tempted to dunk her, a little payback for her teasing, but then he noticed she was shivering. "Come on, Elena. This can wait for a warmer night." It seemed silly for them both to be out there shivering when they didn't have to be.

"A whole year?" She pouted, but he was right - he might have screamed like a girl, but she really was shivering in his arms. "Fine. How does a bath sound, instead?"

"Unless you want to go to Hawaii, yes!" he said. They could do the same thing in the bathtub and not worry about catching cold or getting sand where it didn't belong. It was a romantic notion, but not very practical, it seemed. "Last one back is a rotten egg!" he called, letting go of her so he could splash back to shore.

"Hey!" Left to flounder for a moment, Elena whirled around to fight her way back to shore in his wake, deliberately splashing his rear end with a handful of water as she started to catch up. "That's cheating!"

He shrieked at the splash, but not as loudly as before, as he splashed his way back to shore, He kicked up sand as he dashed toward the house they shared on the beach, letting her have a good look at his backside in the moonlight, just as he'd promised.

And what a fantastic view that was. Elena was absolutely sure she was never going to get tired of that view, no matter which angle she was allowed to gawp at. One thing was for sure ....she was going to make damn certain he fully celebrated his achievement tonight, even if it took until dawn.

((Almost a full year married, and what was once a despairing writer and an ex-actress with no confidence is now a best-selling writer once again and a business owner! Good for each other" I should say so! Many thanks to Michael's player!))