Stealthily, B.C. opened her car and extracted the black bag she was talking about, then shut it and ran quickly back to where she was waiting. He’d been fast, going into the facility, changing, and then going to the front desk and telling Clark he wanted to go for a run. They’d gotten used to all his runs, so he’d check him out quickly. Easy, peasy, lemon squeasy.

Had he really just thought that? He smiled at himself, feeling better, lighter than he’d felt in years.

He thought of getting to know Yoga Master Moonwater and couldn’t stop the grin.

Darn, he’d waited to kiss her for a long time. Well, kiss her again. That was…ahhh…not like anything he’d ever experienced. The trueness, the passion, it was everything he’d pretended in movies, but not really felt.

Drug free, he thought.

He didn’t like to think of her getting fired or of Dr. Schneider being upset. Dang it.

He ran back to where he hoped she would be, feeling like he’d just done a very important military op.

"Thanks.” Gratefully, she took the bag and plunked it on the ground, then unzipped it and pulled out another unitard.

What could he say? He didn’t mind that she wore these all the time for her job. Then he felt a bit guilty. She wasn’t an object. Man, he felt so different about this woman than he had in a long, long time. Ever. About any other woman.

She stood and then hesitated, giving him a little wave. “Uh, I have to change.”

Jolted, he turned and walked up the path. “Right." Right? Was he an idiot? She’d made it clear she hadn’t ever slept with a guy.

It amused him, while he waited, to think about her, her goodness, innocence. It was crazy that he found that so attractive about her.

He unexpectedly had all these ideas of what he wanted to do with her when he got out of here. He could take her to Paris. Exactly where she said she wanted to go. Yes, he'd shot one of his CIA movies there, but hadn’t really done any sightseeing. Just ran around the whole town like a crazy man. Visions of them walking leisurely around the Louvre, looking at expensive art, filled his mind. Would she want to look at expensive art?

“Hey.”

He jumped. Man, he was jumpy around this woman. This was crazy.

She let out a soft, giggle and he liked it. “Sorry.”

He found himself smiling and reaching for her hand, tugging her in, kissing her.

She pulled back, after a few seconds he noted with delight. “We shouldn’t…”

“We’re passed this.” He didn’t want to hear a boring lecture, so he reached for lips again.

“Only if you tell me what you were thinking that made you jump just now.”

“What?” His heart stopped. Could he tell her that?

“I mean it.” She crossed her arms. "Tell me the truth, what were you thinking?”

He sighed, thinking his old self, the one before meeting her or coming here would never tell the truth because that felt so vulnerable. He wanted to be vulnerable, he decided. “That I can’t wait to take you to Paris and go to the Louvre with you to look at all the boring art. If you like art. Do you like art?”

He saw her bite her lip, and her eyes misted and he was encouraged.

Now he add libbed because he wanted to make her smile, “And then I was just thinking how it would be kinda fun to see if we could get someone to rob us in Paris because everyone has a story about getting robbed in Paris and we could look all fancy and they could think they would get away with it and then I would hunt them down and you would think I’m a hero.”

She let out a laugh. “Yes, the typecast thing.”

He grinned. “Nah, I just think I might like being your hero.”

The moment got intense and she stared at him with those gorgeous, green eyes. She sputtered out a laugh. “You want to be my hero?”

He shrugged and then let out a sigh. “I think maybe for the rest of my life.”

He didn’t know if she was as surprised as he was when she closed the gap between them, leaned in and kissed him.

* * *

After they’d pretty much made out for another half hour, she finally told him she had to go. He reluctantly agreed. He carried her bag through the facility for her. Good thing St. George was so dry and she’d dried off. Her hair was dry and back in that bun and no one even suspected anything, except the normal of what they always suspected…he had a crush on her. He did, so there.

The odd thing was, when he’d handed over the bag and took off down the hall, he didn’t feel victorious in a way that was hahaha, I got the girl. He just felt happy. Happier than he’d felt in a long, long time.

He went back to his room and did some pushups, because that’s what he did. He also sat down to write some of his feelings in a journal Dr. Schneider had given to him that he’d never used. It evolved to him scribbling doodles, something he hadn’t done forever. He found himself working on a beautiful, lithe, yoga master pixie blonde with great eyebrows and natural eyelashes, which was stupid and obvious if he thought about. Then he evolved to a lizard man, who looked a lot like him. The things to do in rehab.

After getting ready for bed he stared out at the moonlit desert and thought about her. The feel of her. The smell of her. Everything about her felt…so perfect.

Three weeks into rehab and the only thing that made him want to be better was her.

Not just because he was in rehab and needed to get a handle on his life, but for the first time ever he thought about having a life with someone. Not a Hollywood life. Definitely not his mother’s life.

A life with her. On the ranch. He thought of what it would be like to hang out with Kevin and figure out ranch stuff.

What would it be like to smell her potions? To watch her work. He could imagine the look she would get when she was concentrating. She had that look during all the classes when she was focused.

He couldn’t get the image of being with her on the ranch out of his mind. She could be making concoctions and he could be drawing or whatever else he might be doing. He didn’t know, but something. Kevin could be coming in with the ranch guys and talking about the price of…what he did not know.

Despite all the gaps in his fantasy, it sounded like the best thing he could possibly imagine.