Trinity took a deep breath of fragrant summer air as she headed into the overgrown boxwood labyrinth.

The hedge maze had almost certainly been a showpiece in its time. When she was working in the room above it, Trinity could unfocus her eyes while gazing down at it and almost see the foliage in all its former precision - squared off edges and smooth pathways leading to the sparkling birdbaths and marble animals hidden within.

That was before the monks who had occupied the storied building ran out of men and money and let the landscaping go. She supposed the monk business was less fashionable than it used to be.

Now the monastery was being renovated into the new police academy. The few remaining brothers had gone to upstate New York to join another group.

And Trinity had been contracted by the academy to digitize all the old paper files in the records room and troubleshoot some IT issues.

But when she needed a break from the musty mimeographs, the overgrown gardens always drew her in. Trinity dreaded the day when the backhoes would inevitably come to rip them out and put in more parking or whatever it was the powers that be had in mind.

For now, their impermanence made each leaf and wildflower almost unbearably beautiful in her eyes.

Trinity had just begun to traverse the tangled path in earnest when it caught her eye.

A flame-colored trumpet flower winked at her.

She turned to look but it was merely a drop of water, sparkling like a diamond. It must have caught the sunlight and flashed. Funny, there was no other dew on the leaves or flowers. It was much too warm for that.

She continued, forcing herself to walk slowly and take deep breaths. Another scent had joined that of the loamy soil and lush blossoms. It was familiar but she couldn’t place it.

A cool mist began to swirl around her ankles.

Trinity sped up, taking the turns around the brambles faster than she should since she couldn’t properly see the path anymore. The soft grass beneath her feet swallowed up the sound of her footsteps.

Then she saw it again, another sparkle in the still air.

And another. And another.

At first she told herself it was raining.

But rain didn’t fall so slowly.

No.

The summer sun, just kissing the horizon, was turning thousands of lazy snowflakes pinkish-orange as they swirled toward the lush grass.

Trinity blinked, but the snow was still coming down like a picture on a Christmas card. The flakes dotted the sky, dusting the faces of the cavorting fox statues in front of her.

She ran on, and the snow followed.

She stopped at the center of the labyrinth.

A warm breeze rustled the branches of the scarlet rose bushes that surrounded the patinated sundial, as lacy snowflakes drifted down to anoint it all - roses, sundial, grass, marble benches.

Trinity lifted her own hand before her and watched as the delicate flakes made ivory freckles against her copper skin.

Am I the only one seeing this?

As though her thoughts had triggered it, a figure appeared in the clearing with her.

He didn’t come from anywhere - he was just… there. One moment she was alone in the center of the labyrinth. The next she wasn’t.

It was a man, tall and wide-shouldered and somehow familiar.

“Trinity,” he said, his deep voice caressing her from across the little garden.

Everything suddenly made sense.

It was Hawkeye.

And this was a dream.

It had to be. Because instead of looking away or reciting the pledge of allegiance in her head to distract herself from his sexiness, Trinity was moving toward him, her feet moving of their own accord.

The summer snow storm didn’t matter, nor did the urgent time crunch on the endless yellowed files back in the monastery.

It didn’t matter that she had raised six little brothers and had no interest in nurturing an alien man-child.

Hawkeye’s smoldering gaze was hypnotic. And Trinity would not resist this time. Her heart seemed to beat with the rhythm of her footsteps.

Closer, closer, closer…

The evening bells in the tower above began to ring the hour.

One…

He wrapped his arms around her and she shivered with the rightness of it.

Two…

She slid her hands up his muscled chest. She had never looked at him without wanting to feel his pecs under her palms.

Three…

He cupped her cheek with a massive warm hand, gazed down at her as if she were the most precious treasure.

Four…

Trinity looked into his dark eyes and saw her own face reflected back in them, more beautiful than she could ever be in real life.

Five…

He bent to kiss her, his eyes closing at the last moment, lashes brushing his chiseled cheek.

Six…

She felt the warmth of his mouth against hers. Her whole body welcomed the sweet touch.

Seven…

He smelled like a snowy forest. His hands slid down her back, molding her curves.

Eight…

The last bell was clearer, crisper than the tolls that had preceded it. The cool kiss of snowflakes faded.

Trinity kept her eyes shut, but he was already disappearing from her arms.

Please, not yet.

But she could already feel the sheets bunched in her hands, hear the distant sound of the academy training exercises through the open window.

It was eight in the morning.

And she was alone in the suite.

Tears slid silently down her cheeks, and she let them. She had no idea why she was crying. She didn’t actually want to be with Hawkeye. It had been a pleasant dream - that was all.

But the tears fell anyway. There was no one to see them and worry.

Brooke and Veronica would be long gone by now. Brooke to the gym where she taught, and Veronica to the K-9s.

Trinity always woke up alone.