The rolling waves of the ocean seemed to speak to her. A rushing sound to wash over her senses was the crash of the waves against the docks she sat on. Indifferent to the risk as she nursed that bottle of whiskey and stared out with eyes that easily matched the tempest hue of ocean she looked out upon. Memories invaded her senses, past and present converged and crossed. Intersecting lines of power that would continue to thread through her spirit and remind her of all that was gathered, all that was gained and everything lost.

No matter how hard Jacinta tried, she still felt like her regained namesake of Jinx still stuck with her. This could only be redeemed by the case and point fact that the newly found Sidhe, Puck, was heading off the day she met him to a birthday party for none other then Shane?s new girl, Darcy. Jacinta couldn?t help but toast the sky and knock back another round at the irony of life.

Aye but the Goddess and her Consort enjoyed a good laugh over the trials and tribulations of the Red maned Fae of the Summer Court. Her it was her season, her thriving months of her Court and yet she felt more belonging of the Solitary.

Jacinta if anything had found herself musing and reminiscing over her past. Had it only been a handful of years since she?d been Chance McGlory? Lady Luck, bawdy lass of Good Fortune and Captain of the Sea Fox? It seemed decades ago. Con Artist and Thief, Transporter and Trade Agent of the black market now it seemed odd to remember the days when she had been soul bound to the Garou Devantious Steele and his brothers Ariohn and Argus. That it was a series of hop, skips, and jumps through alternate realities where her alternate persona, The Empress, had born a child that even now existed in the realms of Rhy?din. The Dream Weaver and NeXxus Gate Keeper, Pheus.

The time she had been cursed to be a human for a handful of time and terminally ill to teach her a lesson and to become an outcast of her very court, and now all redeemed she couldn?t help but think of the past.

Her fingers twisted through the red of her hair, palmed that tiny braid that held the Irish good luck token. Despite herself her thoughts trespassed to Shane.

Sigh exhaled and that bittersweet sensation was drowned in a mouthful of whiskey. Jacinta reflected as she looked out at the setting sun casting glory stains of molten gold against the deep blue, a flare of crimson as the sun protested its evening death.

A phoenix that wondered if it would ever be brought to life again, given an opportunity to rise, this was the sensation that poured through her spirit as she tipped her head back and dropped her glamour that kept her from appearing as her true form.

As she basked in the warmth of a setting sun struggling to save itself from a phoenix death in the shadows of night, that warmth that slowly would be devoured it seemed by the chilling claim of the ocean, she couldn?t help but remember that burn, the warmth, the heat of lips upon her hand. Marked like a token boon of a Goddess to a Consort claiming one as their own.

He is still there.

Throughout his life, he has been called by many names.

Robin Goodfellow, whose mischievious and prankster nature were written of in legend by so many the names cannot be counted. Most famous was a poet of England, who not only wrote of his good humor and whimsy, but of his good side...to those who treated him with the proper respect and good nature.

The Will O' The Wisp, that famous trickster who could lead you either into danger...or away from it.

Pan, whom the Greeks worshipped as the god of the field and forest and fertility in all forms, and whom, if you asked sweetly and made the proper offerings, could bless you with a good harvest and bounty to spare.

Faunus, whom the Romans worshipped the same as the Greeks before them.

And so many others.

To humans, a trickster, dangerous and whimsical, good as often as bad.

To the Fae, the messenger of King Oberon at times, and at others, his downfall, his knave, his bane when he suspected the King of the Fae of treacherous deeds.

So many things he is both blessed and cursed for!

But none know the real being, the heart that dwells within. Mischief and whimsy dwell in his heart, it is true. But in equal measure is a love for all good folk, and though he has been known of as the lover of many women, he has yet to find one worthy to give his heart of hearts away to.

Until, perhaps, now.

This lovely Fae woman beside him, whom had named herself both Jacinta and Jinx, names as rich in merriment, mischief and love as his own, though they be less known to others, had captured his notice. Could she be the equal, the love to tame the wild spirit?

Well, perhaps not to tame, but at the least to anchor him, to keep him close. He had not slept, for in the moonlight he is as awake and alive and full of energy as he is in the sun. Instead, he had stayed next to her, watching her sleep, never tiring of this view.

Propped on an elbow, long, slender fingers delicately stroking her arm, he smiles as he sees her come awake. Her true nature revealed to him, he cannot take his eyes away. His soft, musical voice mingles with the sound of gentle waves touching the shore. "A good morning to ye, love. Did ye sleep well?"

That fabled, impish smile is still on his lips, but his eyes, now turned a warm shade of golden-brown, fix on hers. No mirth there, only patience, understanding.

Warmth.

For a long moment, he regards her, still reclining in the sand, before he moves with that same grace he had displayed when the sun was setting.

"Well, now, m'dear Jacinta, as I recall, ye asked me t'stay. And as far as I can determine, ye didn' tell me t'go...and those things quite aside, I am here and remain here for the same reason I do anythin' else."

The smile softens slightly, no longer so impish, more warmth and undertanding in it that closely resembles his eyes.

"I remained here because I wished to remain here."

He nods at that. It didn't feel like his 'funeral,' of course, no matter what she said, but he's known those for whom such expressions are in their nature. It's their way of keeping the world at arm's length.

Hell with that. Amongst his many gifts is the gift of charm, and if he has to chip away at that touch exterior bit by bit with a chisel, he will. Stubbornness is one of his other hallmarks.

"I'll tell you what, m'lady Jacinta. Ye can keep me around as long as ye like, and I'll be here for ye, love. the only problem ye might have with that is ye may find me not so easy t'get rid of as ye imagine. I'm very persistent."

He reaches out and touches that fiery red hair, smoothing a lock back behind her ear. His fingers trace along the outer edge of her ear a moment, his touch warm, his eyes that same shade of golden-brown.

"Ye'll likely find me quite annoying that way. But on the other hand, ye may just like it."

At that he laughs, falling over onto his back in the sand in his mirth. "oh...I am sorry, Jacinta. But you must be joking."

Abruptly, he sits up, laughter still in his eyes, mingling with the warmth there.

"I think ye be havin' my intentions all wrong, love. I'm not here to wait for you. I'm not here t'ask anything from you, I'm not here even looking for anything from you. In case ye hadn't noticed, I don't really require all that much - never have, t'be completely honest with ye. So wantin' somethin' from you?"

He gets to his feet, the motion flawlessly smooth, his every movement seeming to be part of a dance as he glides over the sand effortlessly to stand in front of her, his eyes shifting colors yet again, to pools of cerulean blue, the color of Caribbean waters.

"No, love. It strikes me that ye're not needin' t'give anything away. I think what ye're needin' more than anythin' else is someone t'give somethin' to you. And that, in short, is what I am here for."

He holds up a hand to her to forestall any argument - he can see plenty of them coming. "And this, by the way, is somethin' ye have no choice in. I'll not ask ye fer anythin' in return, but that you accept my gift of myself, in whatever capacity ye choose t'have it in. A friend, a shoulder, someone to talk to, whatever ye have a need of. What comes after...well, we can leave that for another time, if ye please."

He takes a single step forward, both of his hands reaching out to take hers, cool blue eyes looking into hers. "So...what say ye?"