"Captain Smug," he echoed, chuckling. "I rather like that." He smiled as they arrived at their destination and she gasped in appreciation at the view. "Do you like it' It's lovely, isn't it?" he asked, though lovely wasn't exactly the word for it. Breathtaking, perhaps. Amazing, certainly. Stunning, most definitely.

"It's ....it's beautiful," she breathed, holding tightly to his arm, her eyes wide as she looked around the untouched wilderness about them. "And kind of humbling. This is what you wanted to show me?"

"Aye," he replied, turning his gaze from the lovely women beside him to the equally lovely view around them. "This is where we are going to build a home," he told her. It wasn't a question, but a statement of fact. He already owned the deed to the land, though he had not told he so yet. It was why he'd brought her here to this place, wanting her to see the land untouched by man before she left on her journey.

The astonishment on her face was stark as she looked up at him, truly surprised. "Here" We're going to live ....here?" Her gaze turned to the sweeping vista once again, and this time, she could imagine a house set amid the rugged beauty - their home, to share with each other and the children they were already hoping for. She didn't want to wait for it to be built; she wanted it there, now, theirs to enjoy together for these last few days before she had to set sail. Though she would be away for six weeks, at the most, the impending separation from James was tearing at her heart, and standing here, at the heart of the future he had so obviously picked out and planned for them, she did something she had been trying very hard not to do for the last month or more. She burst into tears.

He had not been too sure what her reaction would be to the news that this would be the eventual site of their home. Would she be angry that he'd made this decision without her" Would she be happy, relieved, excited, or annoyed and angry' He wouldn't have been too surprised to see her shed a few happy tears, but to see her burst into tears took him completely by surprise, and he mistook those tears for something else, distressed he'd done something wrong. "Aye, here ....Unless you'd rather not. 'Tis a bit far from the museum, but we could keep your apartment in the city and live here when you're not working," he ventured, frowning in alarm at her tears. "I'm sorry, lass. I thought you'd be happy ..." he said, putting his arms around her and pulling her close. "I-I can mayhap sell the land and build elsewhere. Perhaps at your Maple Grove, if you like."

She went willingly into his arms, shaking her head as she tried to make herself coherent through her sobs. "No ....no, I ....m'happy ....I ..." From somewhere in the spluttering mess of sounds came a familiar growl frustration, and the very obvious effort of trying to calm herself down before she tried to speak again. Raising her head, she dashed at the tears wetting her cheeks, sniffling as she met his gaze. "I am happy," she promised him faithfully. "Happier than I ever thought I could be. And don't sell the land. It's perfect. You're perfect. And ....I'm going to miss you so much. It feels like I'm breaking my own heart in two by going away!" Fresh tears spilled over her cheeks as she buried her face against his coat, holding tightly to him in the hope that she'd at least made things a little bit clearer for him.

Oh, she'd made things quite clear. He was a little surprised by her emotional outburst, and though he'd known she was possessed of a fiery spirit, he had never seen so many tears from her until this very moment. But it wasn't the prospect of a home or family or even the view that had brought her to tears, it seemed, so much as the thought of her leaving him behind, even if only temporarily. It was an ache he understood, having traded those he'd loved for his mistress the sea more than two centuries ago, but he had secretly vowed not to let the past repeat itself as far as Ashlyn was concerned. "Ash, love, don't cry ..." he whispered, holding her close while gently rubbing her back in what he thought was a poor attempt to console her. There was only one thing he could do to chase away those tears, but that meant revealing yet another secret.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled against him. "I know, I know, I shouldn't cry ....it makes it harder for you, and I don't ever want to make anything harder for you, but I love you so much ....I'm sorry ..." She drew in a shuddering breath, using the scarf about her neck to try and blot her tears a little. She might have been fighting a losing battle there, but she was going to try, all the same.

He sighed, the sound barely audible. What was the point of keeping this secret from her if it was hurting her so' He tipped her chin up to face him, brushing the tears from her face with surprisingly gentle fingers. "Would it help to know I'm going with you?" he asked, waiting a moment for his words to sink in.

It did take a moment for the words to sink in, and even then, her reaction was more confused than anything. She blinked, sniffing unattractively as she looked into his eyes. "What?" she asked, her voice thick and tight with tears in the cold. "How?"

He sighed again, a small frown on his face, equally uncertain what her reaction to this other secret might be. Had he assumed too much' Would she be happy he was going along or annoyed with him for not telling her sooner" "Do you remember that first day at the museum?" he asked, brushing a thumb against her cheek as he met her tearful gaze, those tears tearing at his heartstrings.

Sniffling, she nodded, her cheek tilting into his touch as she held his gaze. "You spoke to Giles," she said, and it was then that comprehension started to dawn in her eyes. "He told you about the Mauretania." Untangling her hands from his back, she reached up to cradle his face between her palms. "I'm not leaving you behind?"

With so few clues, she had guessed his secret, and he smiled down at her, hoping she was pleased. "Aye," he replied softly as she took his face between her hands. "I'm not sure how much help I'll be, but the captain seems to think I have ....How did he put it?" James smirked, knowing more about sailing the seas than most men who claimed to be sailors these days. "Potential."

"I'm not leaving you behind." That was the sticking point, the part that meant the most to her, and she quite suddenly threw her arms around his neck, hugging him close as she breathed a deep sigh of relief. All the tension that had been building in her for weeks bled away as she let herself finally let go of the distress she'd been trying to hide from him. "I love you," she murmured against his ear. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Of course, I did not tell him about my adventures in Neverland. He would have thought me mad, but I did impress him with my knowledge of seamanship. Enough so that he hired me on the spot," he told her, with a hint of pride on his face. "Whoa, love ..." he chuckled as she caught her in his embrace. "I'd rather like to not fall off the cliff, if you don't mind," he scolded gently, pulling her back onto the snow-covered grass and away from the edge, the sea crashing against the land below them. He shrugged, frowning a little at her question and wondering if he'd been foolish. "I wanted to surprise you," he replied. "See the look on your face when you came aboard, only to find me there in uniform. I wanted you to be proud of me."

"Baby, I'm always proud of you," she told him firmly, willing him to believe her. "And I'm sorry I've been so moody recently. I just ....I really can't stand the thought of being away from you, even for just a few weeks. I've never felt so connected to anyone as I do to you, and ....I completely spoiled your surprise, didn't I?" Guilt flowed into her expression as she sighed. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm not as independent as I thought I was." Her thumb stroked against his cheek. "I need you."

All of it - everything she was telling him - put a smile on his face, even if it was full of unnecessary apologies. "Nae, I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner. I would have told you sooner, if I'd known how it was upsetting you," he admitted. "No need for apologies, love," he continued, a soft smile on his face, as he took her hand in his and touched it gently to his lips. The wind around them was cold and tinged with salt, but he hardly seemed to notice, his heart warm with love. "Would it surprise you to know that I need you, too?"

"I didn't want to upset you by telling you how upset I was getting," she admitted with rueful comedy in her expression, watching as he raised her hand to his lips. "It's nice to be needed." She smiled finally, leaning into him as she drew in a last, calming breath. "So ....how long do you think building our home here is going to take?"

"I think the closest I might ever come to being unfaithful would be hugging and kissing a turtle, or maybe a dolphin," she admitted with a wry smile. "Somehow, that doesn't feel like adultery to me." Rubbing her hands together briskly, she watched him, giving him time to form the words he wanted to say.

"Should I be jealous?" he asked, an amused smirk on his face, as his fingers started to thaw. Though he was glad they were away from prying eyes, he suddenly wished for a cup or tea or coffee even, something to warm them from the insides out, but he had not brought her all the way here, only to leave so soon. A few minutes ago, he'd been more than ready to share yet another secret, but now, he felt that old wariness creeping up on him again.

"Jealous of the sea?" she countered with a faint smile. "Not unless you expect me to be jealous of her too. She's as much your mistress as she is mine." One hand moved to find the soft wipes she kept in the door, wanting to wipe the salt and soreness from her eyes and cheeks before she started to rub at them again.

It occurred to him that once he shared his story, she might feel differently, though she was right about one thing - both of their hearts had first belong to the sea before each other. "Aye, that is what I wished to speak to you of," he said, circling back to his story as she unwittingly touched on the subject of this other secret. "'Tis because of the sea that I am here, but I do not speak of the water alone. There are greater forces at work in the world, Ashlyn. Forces you and I cannot begin to fathom."

Wiping her face clean of the salt, she offered them to him in case he wanted to clean at least around his eyes. "You're talking about gods, aren't you?" she asked thoughtfully. She'd never actually met a god, or a divine entity, but she knew they were out there. She'd seen too many strange things to deny their existence entirely.

"Perhaps," he reluctantly agreed. He wasn't sure he'd have used that word to describe the being that had brought him to Rhy'Din. God, deity, power, spirit. He wasn't sure there was a single word to define what he'd encountered. He only knew she had chosen him for some reason, saved him, spared him, and brought him here, but only after extracting a promise from him. But where to start his story"

"James, what is it?" Ash frowned, uncertain in the face of his reluctance to speak. He'd seemed so ready to talk to her out there in the elements, and yet now they were warm again, he was beginning to close up once more, to hide away the secret parts of himself that she'd never pushed to see. But just because she didn't push, it didn't mean that she wasn't hurt by their hiding - he had seen every part of her, he knew every secret she'd ever kept. She didn't understand why he felt the need to be so close-mouthed about his past when he knew she loved him.

It wasn't because he didn't trust her, but because he was almost ashamed of his past, knowing what that his reputation preceded him, if Barry was to be believed, and yet, here was someone who knew that story to be false - the proof was right in front of her. And telling her the truth meant speaking once again of Neverland and the boy who had become his enemy - it was that he was reluctant to speak of, painful as it was, like picking at a festering wound. "It was that blasted boy," he started. "Peter Pan."

As soon as he started speaking, she knew where the beginning was, reaching over to gently wind her fingers into his hair, offering a soothing touch. She knew how painful he found it to even acknowledge that there was a shred of truth in the story, much less share the real truth with anyone. "What happened?"

"He bested me," James explained, jaw clenching at the memory of it, though it wasn't so much that that bothered him so much as the fact that the boy had cheated. "The boy doesn't fight fair. I know what the story says, but it's all lies." Or at least, most of it was lies. "Did you know Barry was a lost boy?" he asked, though he didn't really want to go that far back in the story. He only wanted to share how he'd come to be in Rhy'Din, but in order for her to understand that fully, he couldn't leave Pan out of the telling.

"Nibs," she nodded. He'd told her that when they had first been learning each other, when he had still been consumed with bitterness over his treatment in literature. "The only reason Pan bested you is because he took your hand before, and you would not take the life of a child, no matter how demonic that child had become. I know you, James."

He frowned, shaking his head lightly to indicate there was far more to the story than he had shared or that had even been written in the books. "He killed me, Ash. I should, by rights, be dead," he told her, the story coming out in dribs and drabs, as he struggled with the memories of his past experiences. "Do you remember when Hook kidnaps the children and has Wendy walk the plank" Do you know, I have never made anyone walk the plank. Ever."

"I remember." There wasn't much more she could say to encourage him to keep talking, not wanting to react too openly to the news of his death before they'd ever crossed paths, not wanting to distract him from what he was trying to tell her.

"I was going to take the children home," he continued, getting lost in the memory of that fateful day - the day that had been immortalized forever in story for all to remember, though it was little more than a lie. "Tink and I made a deal. Nibs got that part right anyway. She would have made a good pirate, if she hadn't been a fairy. She was jealous of Wendy. Nibs got that part right, too. She wanted Peter all to herself, and the children didn't belong there. Oh, there were a few lost ones that truly had no home and nowhere to go, but Wendy and her brothers were different, and Pan planned on keeping them there forever."

James paused a moment before going on, a frown on his face, clearly lost in his memories, his eyes faraway as if they were seeing something she couldn't. "When Pan found out he was livid, of course. The little wench betrayed me and blamed me for the children's capture, claiming I was going to make them walk the plank. Now, why in heavens would I do that' Certainly I had reason for revenge, but it was Pan who was my nemesis, not the children. I never touched one hair on that boy's head. Do you know what he did when he took my hand?" he asked, turning his head toward her, the story getting away from him a little. "After he threw it to the croc," he added before continuing, as if that point was as important as the rest of it. "He laughed. He laughed and he crowed, proclaiming himself the cleverest boy in all the world, while I suffered and bled in agony. I cannot even begin to describe the agony." He drew a deep breath and clutched the hand that he'd lost, as if afraid he might lose it again.

Her heart aching for the indignities he'd suffered at the hands of a careless child, Ash reached out to take his hand between hers, stroking her fingers over his skin. He didn't need to describe anything to her; she could see it, in his eyes. Raising his hand to her lips, she kissed his palm, holding that injured limb to her heart as she listened to his tale.

There were tears in his eyes when she took his hand and raised it to her lips, the memory of that indignity worse than anything else he'd ever suffered. Three times betrayed - first by Lily, then by Tinkerbell, and finally by Pan. Was it any wonder he was slow to trust' "If it wasn't for Smee, I might have died. I wanted to die. He had a dagger melted down and forged into a hook. It was a poor replacement, but better than a stump. He said it made me look fierce. The fiercest pirate in all history. I told him I wasn't a pirate at all, but he wouldn't listen." He turned toward the view, staring at the sea as it crashed around them, falling silent a long moment before remembering he'd intended to tell her how he'd come to be in Rhy'Din and why she was his second chance.

"That day - my last day in Neverland - Pan came for the children. I pleaded with him to let them go, but he wouldn't listen. Why should he listen" It was like trying to reason with a headstrong child who knew nothing of discipline. Nibs left Pan's temper out of the story, but oh, he was like the devil himself when he didn't get his way. He challenged me to a second duel, and when I was foolish enough to turn my back on him, he ran me through like the coward that he was. He could never hope to best me playing fair, so he cheated. And then, he shoved me overboard to Davy Jones' Locker at the bottom of the sea."