Chapter Eleven:
Impulse

The sun was setting by the time Carly arrived at the Marina. It was, as sunsets went, unremarkable. It was as if the sun had more important matters to attend to, and was just sending off the requisite flashes of color before fading from sight. Carly paid little attention as she walked quickly along the wooden planks of the docks. She hadn't intended on being so late, but rational thought was making an unexpected and entirely unwelcome appearance and that had slowed her down considerably.

The wind had picked up, the closer she'd come to the docks, and now it was launching a full out assault. Her hair was blown into her face, strands gluing themselves to her mouth with the aid of lipstick. Her long skirt swirled around her legs and Carly pulled at it. She kept her eyes focused straight ahead, not wanting to face the apparel she'd picked out, or the fact that she was carrying Nikolas's lost tuxedo pieces over her arm -- the debris of their first night together. The night that was supposed to be their ONLY night before she'd gone and lost her mind.

Until she'd grabbed onto the idea that Nikolas NEEDED these items that Carly had been unable to make herself actually pick up her purse and keys and leave her apartment. She had changed her mind about coming at least thirty times, feeling haunted by the afternoon's events. She felt as if someone was playing a cosmic joke, having her run into Nikolas in front of her mother, of all people. She looked out for moments like those -- Hand of God moments, ones that seemed to point out, with distressing clarity, why whatever she was doing was stupid. This certainly fit into that category.

Carly lifted her head, grit her teeth as she continued down the dock, looking more like she was preparing to deliver a summons than go on a date. She cringed at the word. Date -- as if that was something she indulged in. The scenario was a little too familiar, though. It was pretty common, where she'd grown up, for the guys she met to extend invitations like this. Come sailing... Or come watch me surf, water ski, whatever. She'd stand on the boardwalk, leaning on the railing, surrounded by other girls from school, all dressed identically in cut-offs and halter tops. Variations on a theme.

Carly looked down at her dress. Not going for that look tonight. No, in a moment of pure insanity she had pulled this dress out of the back of her closet and tossed it on her bed... It was a gift... From Felicia, or someone -- one of Bobbie's friends. Bobbie had thrown her a birthday party, a truly cringe-worthy affair, when she had turned twenty-five, and since Carly didn't have anyone to invite, it had been populated by Bobbie's friends. CLOSE friends. Friends that must have owed her, big time.

One of them had given her this dress. She had opened the box and thought "Alright.... Someone is on something here". At the very least they weren't paying much attention. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with the dress, it was just that there was no way in hell she'd ever wear it. It looked like the sort of thing you saw in a Merchant Ivory film, on someone walking across fields of heather. But that afternoon, when she'd thrown it down on the bed, next to almost everything else she owned, it had looked better than anything else she had to choose from. Different. Virgin dress. It was worth a try.

Carly closed her eyes a moment, steeling herself, and continued down the dock. She wasn't going to think tonight. She'd had more than enough of that. Being with Nikolas, generally, wasn't about thinking. If she starting THINKING, then she ran up against the "How stupid ARE you" wall, and that was getting old.

There was one thought, though. One nagging little detail that kept pulling at her. She'd been ignoring it, but it was becoming more prevalent -- He was a Cassadine.

Carly had repeated that phrase to herself many times that afternoon, trying to make it mean something. She knew all about the so-called Spencer-Cassadine "feud", but it all felt like more of her Uncle Luke's delusions of grandeur. Sure. He was important enough to be sought across decades and continents by not only a big time mobster -- but ALSO by some freaky family with lots of money and a really long memory. It made her brushes with collection agencies and private detectives look like Amateur Night at the Apollo. Somehow, she had a really hard time taking it seriously.

Carly chuckled to herself. Oh, she was losing her mind. If she was going to start worrying about what Uncle Luke thought about what she was doing with her evenings she might as well just join a convent and apply for sainthood. Nothing she did was ever going to be anything but wrong in his eyes, so why bother?

Carly slowed her pace as she reached the section of the marina that held the sail boats. They were scattered out across the water, white and mid-sized, with various colored wrappings around the sails. She glanced around. How the hell was she going to find her quarry in all this?

Carly started violently when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She spun around to be face, inevitably with Nikolas. She glared at him, putting her hand over her heart.

"You have GOT to stop doing that!"

Nikolas had stepped back at the violence of her reaction. "Maybe it's not me. Maybe you're just jumpy."

Carly opened her mouth to shoot back that she would have assumed he'd be feeling the same way, but she shut it again quickly. She didn't want to travel down that path, not right now. However, a decision not to be snippy left her with little to say. She looked down and noticed the jacket draped over her arm. She thrust it at him, desperately.

"Here. You left these."

It took Nikolas a moment to recognize the dark clothing as his. "I'd forgotten about that..." he murmured, as he took the items from her, trying not to be offended that she seemed so eager to get rid of them. He should, he reminded himself, just be glad she hadn't stood him up. He'd begun to suspect he was waiting in vain.

Carly shrugged. "I figured you'd miss them eventually." She turned and gazed out at the plethora of boats again. "Which one is yours?"

"It's on the other side of the Marina," Nikolas said, as he stole a quick glance in her direction. She was wearing in a light sun dress, white with small flowers sprinkled sparingly across the pattern. It was softer than anything he'd seen her in before. He wondered what had made her decide to wear it.

Carly turned around on her heel, catching Nikolas in his contemplations of her. She stopped a moment, thrown by the expression on his face. He was studying her -- but it wasn't how she was used to being sized up. She felt the butterflies in her stomach kick up. Nikolas looked up at her, unembarrassed. He gave her a sweet smile and Carly felt her own facial muscles twitch slightly.

"I wasn't sure if you were going to come," he confessed, starting down the dock towards his boat. Carly realized she was supposed to follow, but her body hung back, refusing to be pushed forward, even as he turned back and looked at her in confusion.

"Why?" she asked, tentatively, nearly wincing at the sound of her voice. She desperately wanted to give herself a good shake. Either that or just throw herself into the water and see if that made her head feel any less jumbled.

Nikolas shrugged, his uncertainty beginning to show. "The hospital."

Carly nearly laughed. At least he wasn't going to pretend it hadn't happened. She found her feet were able to move again and she started to make her own way down the dock, Nikolas falling into step beside her as she reached him. She shook her hair out, away from her mouth, and felt it brush against her bare shoulders. Her self-assured manner returned somewhat.

"Yeah, that was a little weird," she allowed.

Nikolas nodded. Weird was one word for it. He hadn't been able to shake it all afternoon. The clueless expression on Bobbie's face, his realization that the fact that he and Carly were more than acquainted hadn't been written all over his face -- And the inevitable thought of what might have happened if it had been.

"I thought," Nikolas steered the conversation onto a safer path, "We could either stay in the harbor or actually take the boat out -- if you'd like."

Carly stumbled slightly, the small heel on her sandal catching on a board. Nikolas reached out immediately, grabbing her arm, though she wasn't near losing her balance. She looked up at him, incredulous. It was hard to believe this guy was for real. She was gripped by a desire to move closer to him, to let him put his arm over her shoulder. He felt warm and the wind was cold on her skin. That, she realized with a flash, wasn't a possibility. She stood up straight and pulled her arm away, purposely.

"Uh, what?" she asked, avoiding eye contact.

"I just wanted to know what you wanted to do," Nikolas said, softly. He could tell the same thing that had occurred to him was occurring to her. There were people around. Anyone could show up at any time. Every second they wasted on the dock was borrowed time.

"It's probably safer to take it out," Carly said, wincing. She was unaccustomed to the question. It wasn't like she and Jason had gone out much even when they were lovers. The relationship had just never functioned on that level. She shifted her weight and let herself look back at Nikolas. He looked awkward, uncomfortable. God, she thought, this was probably the most time she'd spent with him and been one hundred percent sober. That thought made her uneasy.

Nikolas's eyes met Carly's and he saw, clearly, that she was anxious. It was an odd feeling, seeing her like this. It made him feel out of place. He had a tendency to loss track of himself with her -- like he was fighting it out with two modes of behavior, two separate parts of himself. Sometimes he felt strong and protective with her. Other times he inexperienced, inadequate and incredibly immature. Immature.... He'd never felt immature a day in his life. But he did with this woman.

"I think that's a good idea," he said quickly, starting back along the dock. "It's prepared, but I haven't had the opportunity to take it out yet." Nikolas silently told himself that he was getting dangerously close to babbling, as they turned down the dock his boat was moored on. It was right at the end and he fixed his eyes on it. A destination, a haven -- Some place where he wasn't going to have to feel like this. He pressed his lips together, forcing himself into silence.

Carly was watching the slats of wood on the dock as she walked. She was right beside him, scarcely a foot of air between them. It seemed like she could feel the heat of his body, the air between them warmer than everything else surrounding her. She moves her arm slightly, so that in brushed the air, about an inch over his. Without even touching him, she felt a familiar sensation of small pinpricks on the back of her neck, spreading over her shoulders and she caught her breath in her throat and she felt her whole body start to heat. She stopped dead, her eyes wide. Oh, God... Her heart picked up speed, well aware that this sensation was one that only one other man had ever inspired in her.

Nikolas, misreading Carly's expression entirely, stopped in his tracks and gave an apologetic smile, "Yeah... This is it."

Carly glanced up, her stomach having contracted into one big knot that seems to be impeding her ability to breath.

"What?"

Nikolas pointed to the boat at the end of the dock, "There."

Carly followed his finger and her gaze collided with The Zephyr -- All forty feet of it, sitting majestically on the water. It appeared almost haughty, dwarfing the boats beside it. Carly's eyes widened and her jaw dropped, the panic of the moment abating as her brain made a desperate and protective grab at this distraction.

"Oh my GOD!" her voice slid up several octaves. "It's HUGE."

Nikolas looked bemused. "Well... By my standards, it's kind of small."

Carly stared at the boat, wondering how she could have missed it. Her mind was preoccupied, that was the only explanation. It was incredible. She'd seen boats like this, growing up -- usually at a distance. She remember the types of people who had owned boats like this. Rich and usually from affluent communities, further inland. They travelled in packs, rarely had accompanying children, and had clothes that looked expensive and trashy at the same time. Nikolas didn't seem to fit in to that image at all. She shook her head slowly, still staring at the vessel. "It's incredible," she murmured, almost to herself.

Nikolas cleared his throat, aware that Carly was somewhat taken aback by the craft, decided it was up to him to get the proverbial show on the road. "Come on," he coaxed, walking backwards on the dock so that he was still facing her. "Get a closer look."

Carly blinked, then started after him, reaching the boat just as Nikolas tossed the remnants of the abandoned tuxedo over the railing and pulled himself onto the deck. His movements were smooth and practised. He turned back to Carly, extending a hand and realizing, given her clothing, that this was not going to be simple. Carly, however, paid no mind to her long skirt, hiking it up as she stepped over the railing and dropped down onto the deck hardly an inch from him. She stared at his chest a moment before turning away and running her hand through her hair. She dropped his hand, purposely concentrating on her surroundings. She moved past him, making her way up to the bow.

"Oh, wow," she breathed, looking up at the mast. "Oh my God."

Nikolas watched Carly, in some amazement. He hadn't expected his kind of reaction at all. In fact, he'd expected her to think it was small, unimpressive. He was a Cassadine, that name carried certain extravagant expectations. Carly seemed too enraptured to care.

Starting down the lip of the deck, Carly trailed her fingertips along the edge of the railing. Her blood was running closer to the surface, as if she was only now truly coming to understand what was happening here. She was on a boat. For the first time in years, an actual boat. It was all coming back to her. Something she'd loved as a teenager, but put away, like so many other things, when she came to Port Charles as the reinvented Carly Roberts.

Carly had liked sailing. In fact, she'd loved it. But she was used to small little dingy crafts and catboats, at the most. Some of the boats she'd been on had really just been glorified wind surfers. One good gust when the sail was pointed the wrong way, and you were six feet under, salt stinging your eyes and praying you didn't invade the space of any jellyfish. This was not going to happen on a craft like this.

Carly gave up any attempt she was making to keep the giddy grin of her face and turned back to Nikolas, her eyes shinning.

"So we can take this out," she said, her voice nearly quivering. "Just the two of us."

Nikolas felt his heart leap up into his throat at the expression on her face. God, she looked happy. She looked so different than she had at the hospital that afternoon. He loved the idea that he had a hand in that. He'd made her smile. He was giving her something that no one else had. He knew that, without even asking. It was written all over her. He started up the deck after her. "I was counting on it."

Carly stifled a surprising urge to squeal -- Oh, get a grip, Caroline, a voice in her head spoke up, but it was immediately shouted down as another part of her came forward, feeling the wind in a new way, analyzing it. Suddenly it wasn't just something whipping past her, stealing any sense of warmth she could generate. Now it was serving a purpose, and she felt a surge of euphoria. She smiled as the wind moved across her, feeling almost like a caress, like it was telling her it was her friend. She turned back to him.

"Ok. So tell me what we have to do."

Nikolas stood at the stern of the boat, looking up at the sky through the maze of riggings and the mass of the sail, opaque against the night sky. The stars were starting to come out -- distant and small, but definitely there. The moon was temporarily obscured by travelling cloud cover, making everything seem darker and colder than it had been when they had left the harbor.

He turned, looking back to the land. They were miles outside Port Charles now. Since he was still becoming reacquainted with the sailing experience and he had not traversed these waters before, he'd chosen to stay close to land. His first instinct was to travel far enough that there would be nothing visible but water on all sides, but he was aware that was mostly a product of the feelings of restlessness that had been plaguing him lately. Besides, they had reached quiet waters, having moved into the shelter of distant bluffs, the wind dying a little. He'd half to tack if he wanted to continue and the idea was not appealing. It didn't make rational sense to continue, not right now.

Rational sense. That wasn't the phrase of the day, was it? He was getting worse and worse at lying to himself. There was no denying he was now trying to use reason to prop up actions that were, no matter how he tried to look at them, reckless. He was trying to talk himself into dropping anchor and giving himself every reason for it, other than the reason he really had.

Nikolas shook his head out and strained his neck to try to see the bow of the boat again. He expected that was where Carly had disappeared to. It wasn't as if there were many choices. She had wandered from view about twenty minutes ago, an unreadable expression on her face. When he'd seen her on the dock, she'd been acting so odd that he'd been prepared for disaster. It hadn't come. In fact, not one biting comment had past her lips all evening. Her mood was still swinging like a revolving door, so much so that he'd been afraid to touch her. She seemed nostalgic and jubilant one moment, and then tense and nervous the next. He'd felt like she needed to be alone, just for awhile, and he made no move to stop her. It was disquieting, nonetheless.

He glanced down at his watch again. It would be a little thing to call out to her, but he couldn't seem to make himself do it. At the same time, he was getting anxious. As long as they were moving, he felt tied to the wheel, distracted by the task at hand. He turned and looked out at the water behind them, the wake the boat was leaving behind it. Just do it, he told himself. There was no reason not to.

Nikolas turned, without further consideration, and climbed up onto the deck. He spotted Carly, standing exactly where he'd expected to see her -- at the bow, looking out at the water ahead of her. He walked silently towards her, stopping a good five feet away. He didn't want to be accused of sneaking up on her again.

"I'm going to drop anchor," his voice carried on the wind slightly, so that Carly was surprised to see how far he was from her when she turned around.

"Already," she made the word a statement of fact. Nikolas nodded.

"Unless you want to go back."

Carly stared at him a moment, then turned into the wind, tipping her chin up and letting the breeze brush her hair away from her face, over her shoulders.

"I don't want to go back," her voice sounded dead. Nikolas stepped towards her, on impulse, not liking the way haunted expression on her face. Her eyes were distant, and while her body seemed relaxed, her shoulder were rigid, as if she was holding herself, trying not to give in to some gesture. She seemed to be telecasting a desire not to be touched. Nikolas slipped his hands into his pockets and watched her in silence, deciding to let her hold her place. Something was bothering her, and somehow, he could tell it didn't have anything to do with him.

"I need your help taking the sail down," he prodded. Carly sighed, giving an almost imperceptible nod, then looked back at him.

"I'm on it." She moved to the jib, and began to release the cleats. Nikolas watched her hands work them. She knew more about sailing than she'd thought, he'd watched a smile creep across her face as everything had floated back to her. She looked so different than she had at the hospital that afternoon. There she'd seemed ready to jump out of her skin. Now she seemed to be at some sort of tenuous peace with herself. He hoped he had something to do with that.

Carly stopped what she was doing, aware that Nikolas was not moving, and looked back at him. "Everything ok?"

Nikolas nodded, turning away quickly, and making his way back to the helm. He measured his breath, bringing air in and out of his lungs steadily as he leapt down from the deck as if he didn't have a care in the world, as if he wasn't aware the she was now watching HIM. He could almost believe he was in control of what was going on here. He hit the button at the helm and the sail lowered on an automatic furl. Cheating. He didn't much care for this feature, though it was strangely fascination to watch the sail come down, unassisted, and gather on the boom. All he had to do was hit the button to drop the anchor and he would have brought this ship to a halt. Easy. So much so that he barely had anything to do with it.

He switched the mechanism and heard the chains start to slide, feeling a slight vibration through the deck, as the anchor lowered. The boat seemed to glide to a stop, holding a moment, pushing on past the point of resistance, then relenting, and allowing itself to be cradled in the water.

Silence.

Nikolas closed his eyes a moment, drinking it in. The wind was soft now, unobtrusive, and the only sounds were of the waves lapping at the sides of the boat as it rocked gently. No cars, or rustling trees, not even the flap of the sail... Sound was so much different out on water. It was an entirely different kind of quiet.

"What kind of boat is this?"

Nikolas opened his eyes to the sound of Carly's voice. She was standing above him, wearing a slight frown.

"Is it a cutter or a sloop?"

"Sloop," he ran a hand through his hair quickly, then pointed out the sails. "A cutter has five sails instead of three."

Carly nodded, appearing to seriously contemplate this. "I can never keep them straight," she murmured.

They fell into silence again, as she turned back out the water. She was struggling with herself -- not something that she had expected. A feeling of elation that had seized her as she'd first circled the deck of the boat hadn't left her, not completely. She just couldn't stop fighting it. It didn't feel right, or safe. Surrendering to it felt impossible. But a feeling was gathering in her stomach, a urge that wouldn't be ignored, to do just that.

"Did you do a lot of sailing when you were a child?"

Nikolas's voice broke gently into her thoughts. The question was calm and undemanding. Just gently prodding her, closer to the place she wanted to be. She felt a sudden urge to just burst into tears on the spot. Why was she feeling so emotional? She shook her head.

"No," she let herself smile a little. "No way. Mama was not exactly adventurous."

"Sailing is adventurous?" Nikolas sat down beside the wheel, encouraged by her response. He wasn't going to push, he reminded himself. Just explore this. They were alone. No one was going to knock on a door or come around the corner.

Carly laughed and found herself rolling her eyes as she turned to look at him. "Reading a romance novel on a beach towel with the car keys out in the open beside you was too adventurous for my mother," she felt a sudden shiver run through her and she managed to suppress it, pressing her lips together hard. Mama. The water, sailing... All of this. It was reminding her of Florida, of life she rarely admitted to having lived. She leaned lightly against the railing, gripping it with her hands. "She was in a constant state of... anticipation," she explained further, the realization coming on her as she spoke. "She was always waiting for something bad to happen." Carly's face clouded momentarily, lost in memory. She shook herself out of it and looked back at him, cocking her head to one side. "I guess you sailed a lot, huh?"

Nikolas smiled, realizing this was getting frighteningly similar to a real dialogue. It felt easy, less guarded than he was used to, dealing with her. But her expression was so soft, he didn't feel the need to protect himself the same way.

"Mostly like a forced march," he offered. "I didn't like sail boats."

"So you liked, what... Speed boats?"

Nikolas made a face, slightly embarrassed that she had called him so quickly. "Yes," he admitted. "I had an obsession with velocity. Getting from one place to another as quickly as possible." He exhaled heavily. "I think I'm over it."

Carly laughed softly, letting herself really look at him a moment. He was wearing a simple loose cotton shirt that billowed in the wind. It moved easily, and he paid little attention to it. He seemed so focused, so calm. She envied him.

"You move fast enough for me," she murmured, letting herself flirt with him a moment. He laughed, but looked down. She suspected she'd embarrassed him a little and that gave her a tiny thrill. She leaned back and closed her eyes, feeling the air around her again.

"So who did you sail with?"

Carly opened one eye and looked over at Nikolas. He seemed to be honestly interested. She glanced over at the roof of the cabin, wondering if she should perhaps commit herself to a more permanent location.

"Lots of people... " she pushed herself off the railing and moved across the deck as she spoke. "I used to sail with this boyfriend of mine..." her words slowed, almost hesitant. She turned and looked back at him. He was still looking at her, still free of judgment. She stepped slide onto the cabin roof, ducking riggings, and settled on a perch, above him, folding her legs under her long skirt.

"A boyfriend..." Nikolas repeated, sounding more curious than he'd intended. She shook her head and looked over at him, meeting his eyes, connecting enough to admit that this was a real conversation.

"Well.. He wasn't really a boyfriend," she explained. "He was... Sort of more a guy I was 'with' for awhile. He used to sing this song whenever we went out -- The Sloop John B." She laughed, sitting up straight as it all came back to her. "God, I hated that song."

"Sloop John B.?" he frowned. "I think I know that one. Didn't the Beach Boys sing that?"

Carly looked over at Nikolas with undisguised surprise. "My, my," her voice took on it's familiar mocking edge. "He knows the Beach boys."

Nikolas allowed a slow smile to cross his lips. He spoke carefully, his voice measured, but amused. "Contrary to popular opinion I wasn't raised under a rock. I've heard the Beach Boys. The Beatles... Even The Rolling Stones."

Carly sucked on her bottom lip, considering this. "But you listen to Bach when you're depressed," she stated, as if this was incomprehensible.

"Beethoven," Nikolas corrected. "It's appropriate."

Carly moved forward, unfolding her legs and letting them drop over the edge to dangle across the hatchway. She gripped the edge of the cabin top, hunching her shoulders. "I wouldn't really know."

"I was educated in music, just like everything else." Nikolas stretched, glad for the opportunity to surprise her. There was something to be said for prejudgment. It did provide an edge. "My father isn't very musical -- he likes logic, I think that's why he prefers Classical music. It's mathematical. He can appreciate it on that level. My aunt -- she's more of an connoisseur. Her mother--" Nikolas stopped short, aware that Alexis's history was not exactly a cheery topic.

Carly leaned forward, speaking before considering it. "Her mother...?"

Nikolas cleared his throat and glanced up at her. She was looking at him expectantly. Involved. He felt his heart swell.

"Her mother was an opera singer, but she died when she was very young," he explained, the cliff notes version. "But she always appreciated music. But -- She's more Americanized than the rest of us. She appreciated things that are edgier, more modern. But very... accomplished."

Carly bit the inside of her lip, this ringing a bell. "This is Alexis, right?"

Nikolas raised his eyebrows "Yes. So you do know something about us."

"It's in the family handbook," Carly joked, then caught herself. Not a good topic. She shivered slightly and pushed the conversation on. "But you listen to other stuff?"

Nikolas gladly accepted the offer to keep things light. "If it's good," he conceded. Carly shot him an entertained but skeptical look. Nikolas crossed his arm and looked at her severely. "So you don't like the Sloop John B."

"No," Carly stated, leaving no room for debate. "It's depressing... And there has to be another song about a sailboat. " She sighed, running the fuzzy memory through her mind. She could see the guy in question in her mind's eye, but she couldn't, for the life of her, come up with a name. "He was a lot older than me -- and kinda boring, I guess. I think I laughed the first time he did it, and he just sort of clung to it."

"You didn't have much to talk about?" Nikolas fond himself marvelling, as the words passed his lips, that they were finding so much to talk about.

Carly shrugged, looking at the wooden planks that marked the deck below her feet. "I had a lot to listen too. I just didn't find it interesting."

"So why would you be with him?"

"He was there."

The second the phrase was out of her mouth Carly regretted it, and she looked up sharply, catching Nikolas's face as it clouded. He saw the repentance in her eyes, however, and retreated from the wave of insecurity that had been laying in wait for him.

"What DID he talk about?"

Carly smiled gratefully. "Sports, " she announced, with a trace of contempt. "All of them. The players, the stats... Who was winning, who was losing." She looked back at Nikolas with honest curiosity. "Do you like sports?"

"I prefer to play them rather than watch."

Carly shifted on the deck, sitting up and crossing her legs. "Like what ones?"

Nikolas considered this a long moment. "Mostly..." he spoke thoughtfully, "Things that don't involve other people. I'm not very good at teams."

Carly smiled ruefully to herself. "No, me neither."

"I did play polo," Nikolas acknowledged. Carly looked up at him, laughing.

"Polo? You're kidding."

"The sport of kings... " Nikolas's voice was tinged with bitterness. He coughed. "I didn't really care for it much, it just seemed to get in the way of what I really liked doing."

"Which was?"

"Riding".

Carly stared at him, feeling her heart stop just for a moment. She forced her voice to be steady. "You ride."

"Yes," Nikolas frowned, assuming that was obvious. Still, she stared at him as if he'd just confessed to drowning kittens. "Is that... Alright?"

"I used to ride," Carly blurted out. Nikolas jerked his head back a little, at her tone.

"You did," he spoke cautiously. Carly let out a quick, high pitched laugh.

"Yeah," she pushed her hair back from her face. "Competitively. Didn't expect that, huh?"

Nikolas let his arms drop, still unsure of why she was acting so unusually. "I'm trying not to expect much of anything,"

Carly smirked "Words to live by."

A silence descended and the length of the boat seemed to expand and Nikolas felt as if she was moving farther away from him. He sat up quickly. "What sort of competition?"

Carly felt a familiar warning bell go off in her head. She felt this way every time she started to talk about Caroline's life. It was years since people had found out who she was, but no one ever pushed too much into her actual past, preferring to focus on the imaginary one. She still felt, as irrational as it may have be, that she shouldn't give too much information away. She stared down at her legs, letting them swing a little in the air beneath her.

"Jumper. I did jumping competitions," she looked up at him, challenging. "I was good, too."

Nikolas nodded slowly. "You'd have to be."

Carly narrowed her eyes, suspicious. "Why do you say that?"

"You just strike me as someone who does what she sets her mind to."

Carly flushed slightly, not something that she expected. "Not always," she muttered, averting her eyes.

In fact, she thought bitterly, I usually get completely screwed.

"Do you..." her mouth formed the words slowly, as if of it's own volition. "Do you own a horse?"

"Yes."

Carly looked up at him, tentative. This was not a safe topic. It felt childish. And it was such a cliche, young girls and horses.

"What's it's name?"

"Sheeba."

Carly laughed in a sudden burst, then quickly tried to suck it back in. "Sheeba?" she nearly squeaked.

"Is there a problem with that?" Nikolas asked in confusion. Carly shook her head.

"Nope. No way," her face contorted, then she bowed her head, laughing again. "Just... Isn't that a lion or something?"

Nikolas looked at her oddly. "Uh... It was a country in southern Arabia," he explained, not sure if he should be insulted. "But I named it after The Queen of Sheeba. From the story in the bible."

Carly looked up sharply. "Oh! You're religious?"

Nikolas shook his head. That was almost an absurd question to ask a Cassadine. Especially the son of Stefan. "Not traditionally, no. But I've studied the bible."

Carly wrapped her arms around herself, tighter. "You study a lot of things, huh?"

"Yes."

She nodded, looking off into the distance. "Yeah, I figured."

"What about you? What was your horse's name?"

Carly looked back at him, suspicious. "What makes you think I had a horse."

Nikolas raised his eyebrows. "You rode in competitions. You didn't have a horse?"

Carly shivered involuntarily. "It was Carly's horse."

Nikolas let that rest a moment, seeing the same haunted look she'd had at the pool table come back to her. She looked small, fragile. His eyes fell on the tuxedo jacket, tossed onto the bench beside him. He picked it up and crossed to her. She didn't seem to notice the movement until he was under her. She started slightly, and he reached up, handing her the jacket.

"You look cold."

Carly nodded, numb, and took the jacket from him. She slipped it over her shoulder, and realized, for the first time, that she had been colder than she had wanted to admit to. The jacket provided ample warmth, and as she gathered it around her, she realized it still smelt of the cologne he'd been wearing the first night. She looked down at him, gratefully.

"Thanks."

Nikolas nodded, and stepped back from her. Carly frowned slightly. He'd been doing that all night. Coming close, then moving away. He hadn't even tried to kiss her. He'd wanted to a few times, she could tell that. But he hadn't succumbed and that was making her wonder about his intentions. They were beginning to look like they had a lily-white purity to them that made her a little nervous. Either that, or he was playing some master game with her, the purpose of which she couldn't have hoped to guess. And at this moment she felt too discombobulated to consider it. She dug her hands into the jacket pockets.

"She was called Cinnamon," Carly exhaled. She looked up at him, her mouth curling up into a mocking smile. "That's a spice."

Nikolas laughed. "Yes. I've heard of it."

"She was a good horse," Carly spoke softly, letting her eyes travel away from him again. "She... Understood me." Carly wrinkled her nose immediately, as the words came out. She looked back at him. "Do you know what I mean?"

Nikolas nodded. "Yes. Exactly what you mean."

Carly felt a rush of emotion and she smiled, almost beamed, at him. Horse people. God, how long had it been since she'd talked to someone who understood this sort of stuff? Probably longer than it had been since she had admitted to liking horses.

"It was like she could read me, you know?" the words spilled out of her, her speech quickening, her eyes meeting his. "It went both ways, too. Like... If she was upset, or spooked, I could talk her down. Or if she was tired, or lagging, I could get her to pick up. She wasn't like that with anyone else, not even Carly." Carly stopped, staring off into space a moment. "I'd never had that kind of effect on anything."

Nikolas studied her face, understanding what must have happened. The dots were too easy to connect. Carly's horse. It was a part of her life that must have left with Carly.

"Do you ever ride anymore?"

Carly laughed. "No. Are you kidding? I don't exactly have the means..."

"I do, you could -- " he stopped, realizing what he was saying. It was such a little thing. There were stables on Spoon Island. At this moment they housed three horses, it was almost reflex to suggest that she come riding with him on the island.

Carly looked up at him, as if he was crazy. "Uh huh... That would really go over big, Nikolas."

Nikolas looked away from her, feeling a twinge of guilt. "I forgot."

Carly wrapped her arms around her and stared down at the dock. So had she, to be honest. Just in the last few moments, it had been like nothing existed outside of this. He was just a person. Another person who she could talk to about things she never got a chance to talk about. It was too easy to forget about the rest.

"Yeah..." she said slowly. "But you didn't this afternoon."

Nikolas looked back at her quickly.

"What do you mean?"

Carly rolled her eyes. "That thing with my mother."

"What about it," Nikolas prodded.

"Come on, Nikolas," Carly shook out her hair, shifting on the dock. She tried to hold a light smile on her lips but it was difficult. She could feel an edge moving into her voice, as hard as she was fighting against it. "Can you imagine what would happen if she knew what's been going on?"

"What..." Nikolas paused a moment, then pushed the words out. "What has been going on?"

The question seemed to land between them with a thud. Carly, not at all prepared for it, stared at him.

"I..." she felt the sentence stick in her throat, and turned away, abandoning it.

Nikolas sank down onto the bench by the wheel. "I don't have an answer either."

They sat in silence. Nikolas's mind churned. It felt like a brick wall had just descended. And it was unscalable. So much so that he couldn't bear to start talking to her about it, knowing there was no solution. Nothing could change the fact that this gulf lay between them. He leaned back, feeling deflated.

He heard scraping on the roof of the cabin and looked over in time to see Carly scramble to her feet. She moved, without warning, down to the railing. She reached it and tossed a look at Nikolas, noting that his eyes were fixed on her. She forced herself to smile at him. She wasn't going to do this, sit here on a boat in the middle of nowhere and think about how messed up her life was. She had more than enough time for that. She turned and leaned over the railing, looking down at the water. It was lapping steadily against the hull of the boat, and it moved rhythmically underneath her. Slow and steady, soft. Lulling. She straightened up again, letting her grip on the railing loosen, and leaned back with her eyes closed. God, she'd never thought a week ago that she'd end up some place like this.

Carly opened her eyes suddenly. A week ago. A week ago had been, without question, one of the worst nights of her life. Preparing for a wedding that was going to change her life forever. A wedding that wasn't hers. She turned back to Nikolas, who had risen, perhaps in concern that she was going to leap into the water. She laughed.

"Did you think you were going to have to catch me again?"

Nikolas, relieved and disturbed by her manner at the same time, took his time before answering. "You're not easy to predict."

Carly leaned back against the railing, nodding ruefully. "I don't want to be." She turned and looked back at him. "Do you like it here?"

Nikolas blinked. "Here?"

Carly leaned her head back again. "Here. Right here, right now."

Nikolas gazed at her, letting his eyes move over places he'd been longing to touch. He nodded slowly. "yes."

Carly's head snapped up and she looked at him. "Then why are we talking about this?"

Nikolas frowned as Carly moved towards him, climbing down from the deck onto the bench, then on the floor in front of him. She looked up at him.

"I get the feeling that we're losing our way here. I mean... This is about having fun, right? That was the whole idea from the beginning. So why are we getting into all this heavy stuff?"

She was only standing a few inches from him. And she was smiling at him. It was so tempting. He moved towards her, not taking a step, just feeling his body pulled towards her by some magnetic force. He stared down at her, at the practised smile on her face, at the strange glassy look in her eyes. This wasn't her. Not really. It was her acting like she thought she should, like he must want her to. It was her putting herself safely away from him. He felt almost as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

Carly felt her smile falter as Nikolas looked away from her. What was he doing? She'd been asking herself that all night. Keeping his distance, letting her wander off for significant periods of time... And now this. She was about to speak when his head whipped around again and his eye caught hers, their expression darker than she'd seen before.

"Do you really want to do this?" he asked, his voice unsteady. "I mean, is this all you want? To have fun?"

Carly felts herself go absolutely cold, as if he'd just breathed ice into her veins. She stepped back from him, feeling uncharacteristically lost. The back of her legs hit the lip of the bench and she sat down heavily. The collision with the hard wood of the bench, combined with the sting of Nikolas's words, brought her out of her shock and she looked up at him, her eyes flashing.

"Well, what the hell do you think this can be, Nikolas? I mean, God! You just said yourself, you don't know what's going on here. Well, I'm giving you an answer. We're just trying to have a good time. And don't worry, no one has to know about it! I can keep secrets with the best of them," she spit the words out, loading them with as much venom as she could. "I'm known for it."

Nikolas stood over her, feeling his frustration grow. He should back off, he knew this. He should let this slide, but he didn't WANT to. He didn't want to walk away. He wanted to push back.

"Yeah, well I don't keep secrets," he hissed back at her.

Carly threw her head back, and laughed loudly. She looked up at him, towering over her, and stood up again, bringing her face up to his and looking him squarely in the eye. "Well, you're keeping one hell of one now, Nikolas."

"Really?" Nikolas shot back without hesitation. "Are you my secret, Carly, or am I yours?"

Carly's face clouded in pure confusion. "What?"

"Who sent who out of a window? Who's mother were we pretending for today?"

Carly scoffed, feeling herself heat at the suggestion that she was acting alone in this. "What the hell did you want to do, Nikolas? Go out and announce to my mother, who practically thinks that you walk on water, that you got drunk and let her daughter seduce you? What do you think she'd think of that?"

Nikolas cringed, looking away from Carly. It did sound awful. Like nothing he'd ever thought he was capable of. Carly, noticing that she was hitting on something, moved towards him, advancing as he retreated.

"Doesn't sound so pretty, does it?" she mocked. "Well, those are the words people use about me. Liar, cheat, slut... Get used to them. Because that's what you did. You got your turn with the town whore, that's all.

Nikolas reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him.

"That's not true, and you know it." His voice was solid, firm. Carly froze as he looked down and met her eyes intently. "You might think I'm naive, you might even think I'm stupid. But I was there Carly. I know what happened."

Carly felt her heart travel up into her throat as he stared at her, his eyes boring into hers, his hand closed around her wrist. He wasn't holding her hard, she could easily pull away. She swallowed hard and felt his grip on her loosen as he breathed in, trying to calm himself down.

"What do you think happened," Carly asked, hoarsely. Her voice came out much smaller than intended, making the question sound needy, desperate. Nikolas let go of her wrist, and dropped his hand down to his side.

"I think..." he stopped. He didn't KNOW what he thought. He couldn't think straight, his head was pounding, his blood rushing through his veins. He knew he was angry, he was frustrated, but there was more going on than just that. He wasn't to just spit it out. To confess that he was dreaming about her at night. That he thought about her constantly. That no one had ever made him feel this way. He closed his eyes, his brain grabbing onto the taunting expression she gave him every time she was about to deliver a line designed to tear him in two. God, why did she DO that? He opened his eyes and looked at her again. She had taken a step away from him, and was now holding her wrist in her own hand.

Her wrist.

"Did I hurt you?" Nikolas asked, his words sounding raw as he felt himself go cold. Carly shook her head.

"If you had, you'd sure as hell know about it."

His stomach contracted ferociously. God, what was he doing? He felt like he was going to loose his mind. He moved towards her, feeling slightly better when she didn't back away from him. "I shouldn't have grabbed you like that," his voice was barely above a whisper.

Carly frowned. "You barely --"

"I shouldn't have done it," he insisted. "I'm not like that, I'm not."

Carly stared at him, mute. He looked horrified.

"I can't do this," he murmured, then laughed slightly, shaking his head. "I can't do this," he repeated, meeting her eyes.

"Do what?" Carly's voice was pitched higher than usual, her head cocked to one side. At her words Nikolas's face seemed to crumble. He turned away from her quickly, walking to the other end of the small space. Carly, standing right in front of the hatch, watched him. Her mouth felt dry, her hair standing on end, as she gaped after him.

Nikolas dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, gritting his teeth, then turned and looked back at her, a spooky and unsteady smile on his face. "How do you tell the difference between infatuation and love?"

The ground seemed to drop right out from under Carly. Her hand reaching out and grabbing at thin air before finding the jam of the hatch to grip in support.

"What?"

"I have a history of bad judgment in that area."

Carly's head swam. She couldn't seem to bring her voice back into her chest. "Oh?"

Nikolas shook his head hard. This was not going well.

"I'm not saying this right."

Carly exhaled heavily, feeling herself descend into her body again. Ok, she told herself firmly. He's just... Upset. That's all. He's not thinking straight.

"You don't have --"

"Yes!" Nikolas turned to her, sharply. "Yes, I do."

Carly didn't say anything, she didn't even breath. She just met his eyes, as steadily as she could, and waiting.

Nikolas could feel himself shaking, as he looked at her. She didn't look scared, she just looked... Confused -- wary. He forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to let go of this feeling that had grabbed him. God, Robin had paled on every occasion that he had dared to raise his voice. He felt sick thinking about it, the look of disapproval when he allowed himself to get angry or emotional in her presence. Carly wasn't doing that, but the habit of emotional censorship was hard to shake.

"I don't want to pretend with you," he focused his eyes on the boom, avoiding looking at her face, seeing her reaction. Carly, feeling the ground beneath her feet again, finally, reached out and gripped the other door jamb on the hatch, breathing the words in. Pretend. She'd been called, no doubt about it.

"It's not a bad thing," she said, staring down at the deck. "Sometimes it makes everything easier."

"Not for me," Without thinking, his eyes moved back to her. She was trying so hard to look solid, unmovable, while she gripped the wood so tightly for support her knuckles were white. This was crazy, a part of him said with frightening calm. There was no reason to do this. He looked back at her, meeting her gaze determinedly. "I don't think it is for you either."

Carly laughed, a hollow and unconvincing sound.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because," Nikolas's voice was low. "Every time you get afraid about what I'm thinking you start acting like this. If you just knew what I was thinking you wouldn't have to, right?"

Carly felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. There was no response, she simply had no idea what to say.

Nikolas sat down on the bench again, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands. "See..." he continued, saving her from silence. "Where I come from no one ever says what's really going on. They just hold it. Because if you say things out loud... It causes trouble. And even if it doesn't, no one ever believes you, so what's the point?" Carly shuddered. She felt trapped, her hands refusing to release the wood. Nikolas turned to look at her. "If I told you how I felt, would you believe me?"

Carly's eyes widened as if he was suggesting something truly radical. She shook her head, though she wasn't sure if she was actually saying no, or just trying to make sure it was still attached to her shoulder. Nikolas looked at her sadly. "Come here," he murmured.

Carly leaned forwards, as if her body, her heart, had made some sort of decision that her brain was not privy to. Not surprising, as her brain was still stuck a good ten minutes back in the conversation. She felt her hands let go of the hatch and she stepped forward, unsteady on her feet, more so than could be explained by the gentle rock of the boat. Her legs felt like they were capable of bending in new directions, and she stopped, convinced they would not carry her the short distance to where he was sitting. Instead she collapsed onto the opposite bench, and drew her knees immediately up to her chest, clasping her arms around them protectively. Nikolas watched her, aware that he was probably pushing her to some place she didn't want to go. He just couldn't let go of it. He was tired of the games, he didn't want to have to keep guessing. And the only way he could think of to stop it was to make sure she didn't have to guess anymore.

Carly rested her head against her knees and drew in a lungful of air. "You're making this more complicated than it has to be," she moaned.

Nikolas looked at her, huddled away from him. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she was scared. Just not of him... Or not in the way he'd thought she should be. He stood up, feeling, for the first time since he had met her, a surge of confidence, a belief that maybe he wasn't going crazy. Maybe this wasn't as one-sided as she was struggling to make it appear.

"I'm trying to make it easier," he spoke softly, the words coming out of him without passing through his brain first. He felt possessed, led by something wiser than himself. He moved to her, crouching in front of her. He put out a hand, slowly, and let it rest on her knee. Her whole body contracted quickly at his touch, and she looked up, a desperate expression on her face.

"Well you're not!" she spit at him. Nikolas just stared at her, taking in her expression. She was trembling, she was shaken to the core, he could tell that. He swallowed hard, realizing what he had to do.

He wasn't sure, if anyone, when making a jump from a burning building took a moment to really consider what they were doing or if they just jumped? If anyone really took the time to weight a risk, would anyone ever accomplish anything? He answered his own question as his mouth opened and the words started to pour out of him.

"I can't stop thinking about you."

He paused. There was no clap of thunder, the sky did not appear to be descending on his head. Carly looked just as shaken as she had a moment ago.

"I can't stop thinking about you and I don't want to."

Nothing. Carly loosened her grip on her wrist and her eyes widened, her mouth parting a little. But she said nothing. He forced himself to look directly into her eyes.

"I bought this boat because I wanted a place that was mine, I wanted to get away from my life. But right before it arrived, I met you. And now nothing I wanted a week ago makes any sense. I don't know what is happening here, I don't feel like I have time to breath, to figure it out, because whenever I'm with you my mind is in five places at once and none of them connect to each other. I just know..." He stopped and took a deep breath. "I know that night, the night of the wedding... I wasn't looking for that. I wasn't expecting it. And I don't care what you say, or what you think people would say if they knew, we were in that room together."

Carly let out a breath she must have been holding for far too long and sucked it back into her lungs quickly. Nikolas reached up and took her wrist again, gently this time, pulling it free from her own grasp, more violent than his would ever have been. He stared at it, gently caressing it with his thumb.

"I'm not trying to scare you. I'm not trying to complicate your life. I'm just trying to let you know that I want to be with you. I want to know who you are. I don't want to walk away, and it's not because of sex. Not that anyone has ever gotten to me the way you do..." He struggled against an urge to blush and Carly made a small noise that could be taken for a laugh. She was still there, still listening. He forced himself to press on. "You keep saying this is complicated... Or I'm making it complicated, but is that really what it feels like for you? Because it feels easy to me. Staying away is what feels hard."

He started to trace his thumb along the veins in her wrist, remembering in some vague way that he'd done this before. He spoke again, his voice quiet. "Do you have any idea how useless my life feels? Like it has no point, it has no meaning to me anymore. I say that to you and you don't point out all the reasons I shouldn't feel that way... But... When I'm with you, it doesn't feel pointless. And I just... Really hope..." Nikolas felt his confidence falter as the words catch in his throat. He closed his eyes momentarily, forcing himself to continue. There was no turning back, no from here. He raised his head and looked into her eyes again. "I hope that some part of you thinks... That this is worth something."

Carly started at him, that same shell shocked expression on her face. She felt her feet slip off the end of the bench, landing on the floor, and leaned forward. He was looking up at her, his face open, sincere. She moved towards him, entranced, slipping off the bench and onto the floor of the boat with him. Her mouth came down on his without effort, her eyes closing the second their lips touched. She brushed his lip lightly, caressing them, letting herself feel their warmth, the softness of them. Her hands cupped his face, then slipped down to his neck, her fingers curling into her palm so the her knuckles lightly caresses his jaw, and neck. She sucked a quick breath deep into her lungs, almost like an emotional hiccup, "Nikolas," she spoke, her lips against his. It was the first time she had said his name like this, it sounded incredibly sweet to her. She pulled herself closer to him, repeating "Nikolas.." her lips still just skimming against his.

Nikolas was struggling, valiantly, not to pull her lips down on his, not to give in. It wasn't easy. She heard him moan in desperation, just as she sunk into him, kissing him with more emotion than she was aware she had in her. Certainly more than she thought she had to share... She felt herself crack open, could actually feel a tightness in her chest break, as his arms closed around her waist and pulled her against him. Her breath seemed to change, to come in quick bursts, that shook her body. He head began to swim, she felt like everything around her was about to sink into darkness. Lack of oxygen caused her to pull back slightly, but even away from him, she still couldn't breathe in anything more than a short gasp. Nikolas opened his eyes, gazing up at her. There were tears streaming down her face, though she didn't seem aware of them.

"No," he whispered, sliding a hand along her cheek, and into her hair. "Don't cry, don't"

Carly shook in front of him. Every part of her quivering. She felt completely out of control. Nikolas pulled himself up onto his knees, shaking his head, his eyes still fixed on her. So gentle, so delicate.... She gulped, trying to swallow the air around her, just trying to get herself to still, to make everything stop spinning. Nikolas moved closer to her, his hand slipping around the back of her neck. Carly closed her eyes, her body melting into his. He kissed her sweetly, at first, soft and pliant, then deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue slowly along her bottom lip before slipping it between her lips, gently stroking hers. Whatever part of Carly's mind still functioning fell silent and she lost herself, sunk into sensation, letting everything else fade. She didn't care. She couldn't care. All that mattered was what was happening, how real it felt.

His hands moved out of her hair, and moved to grab her rib cage, holding her firmly as she felt completely limp. Her ability to breath returned, She didn't feel like she had the energy to remain upright and somehow she just knew he wasn't going to let her fall. His mouth moved away from her and she arched her head back, her eyes closes as he trailing his lips across her cheeks, eye lids, his breath hot against her skin, his face nuzzling against hers. She shuddered, feeling the straps of her sun dress slide off her shoulders of their own volition. Nikolas began kissing her neck. Carly opened her eyes, feeling her blood rushing to the surface, buzzing through her veins. She looked at the dark sky over hear. It seemed to swirl overhead, nothing staying still, the stars spiralling. She felt dizzy, out of control, spinning too fast to stop, but completely safe. Cared for. She let her eyes close.

"I love you."

The world stopped. For a full minute, Carly felt as if everything had come to an absolute stand still, without sound, without movement. Her eyes flew open and this time the sky was inert. She looked up, staring at Nikolas, her mouth open, eyes wide with horror. Oh, God... That hadn't been her voice. She hadn't just said that.

Nikolas had pulled back from her, his brow furrowed, struggling for breath.

"What?"

Carly let out a cry, a sound of agony and terror and she pulled out of Nikolas's arms, finding her feet, not questioning how, or why this was suddenly possibly, just moving, finding her way away from him. She stumbled across the deck to the wheel, clamping her hand over her mouth hard, as if that was somehow going to fix the damage it had just done. She shook her head wildly. Why had she said that? Where had it come from? She didn't feel that way. She couldn't. There was no way, she couldn't love this man. She didn't have room for it.

"Carly," she heard his voice behind her, then his footsteps as her came towards her. She dropped her hand, shaking her head hard.

"I didn't mean that, it was just the moment, I just... I got... " she fumbled with her words, and closed her mouth, pressing her lips together. She forced herself to turn around and face him, taking a deep breath.

She turned on her heel and caught just the slightest glimpse of his face before looking away, fixing on a point over his shoulder.

"This is crazy, Nikolas. You don't want it to be complicated, that's impossible. It's a nice dream, but that's all it is..." her voice cracked, betraying her. She turned away. "We can't be together, you know that."

Nikolas stared at her, at the intense look of fear on her face. She was retreating. He couldn't take this, not again. He reached out and took her arm, spinning her around to face him. "Don't do this," he told her, his voice nearly demanding. "You don't have to do this. You can just decided not to do it and then DON'T"

"Don't do what?" her voice sounded numb.

"Don't pull away from me." He moved closer to her, closing the space between them. "Just don't do it."

Carly felt herself flush hot, her breathing getting difficult again. Everything began to cloud on her again. She looked up at him, dizzily. She was losing her mind. Losing it? Lost. Gone. She didn't even know where to start looking for it. "What do you think you want, Nikolas?" The words hardly seemed real.

"I know what I don't want," Nikolas said fiercely. "I don't want this to stop. I don't want to turn around and find out it got stomped on. I don't want to lose this before I even know what it could be." He searched her eyes with his desperately. "I'm falling in love you with, you know that."

Carly's knees buckled. His arm closed around her waist, pulling her close against him. She looked up at him, feeling unsteady, helpless. "Oh, God..." she whispered. Nikolas's eyes bored into hers, unrelenting, refusing to let go. She couldn't feel the ground beneath her.

"W- what happened to infatuation?" she stuttered. Nikolas shook his head.

"I don't feel infatuated," he insisted. Carly felt herself begin to tremble. "I don't feel like... I don't know how to describe it. I just know it's new. I know I can't stop thinking about you, about everything about you. And I know when we go back there, when we dock again and you leave..." his voice caught. Carly felt her mouth go dry. She reached up, dazed, and put a hand to his cheek. Nikolas closed his eyes, savoring her touch. Her hand was so soft, so gentle. It felt so real, it felt like something he'd been waiting for his whole life. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. "Carly..." his voice was hoarse.

Carly swallowed hard, her heart thundering in her ears.

"What?"

"Marry me."