The walking stick was hurting Beka’s hand almost as much as it helped her throbbing feet. She and Jon had woken up aching, hungry, and dirty in Earth’s pale-yellow morning light and had been walking beside the stream for a couple of hours. Jon had decided they should stay close to the water source; it would keep them from going in circles, and it was in the general direction he had planned to go.
     Drops of water were falling on them from the sky, causing strange sounds all around them and making Beka even more miserable and frightened than before. Jon had called it rain and insisted she wear his quick-drying trylon jacket. They had agreed they would probably get just as wet sitting under a tree, so they hadn’t stopped. 
     "We probably shouldn't go much longer without eating something," Jon said, leading the way through some low branches. “Maybe I could try some of those purple and red berries we keep seeing.”
     "Do you know what they are? What if they need to be cooked first? What if they make you sick?"
     He sighed. "No. They might. And yet another thing I don't know."
     I need to stop asking questions I know he can’t answer. She just wasn't thinking clearly before speaking. He was trying his best and, so far, he'd had a lot of good ideas.
     "I'm not completely desperate, yet," she said. "I can wait another day. I think it's more important we have water, which we do as long as we stay close to the stream. Like you planned."
     He pushed aside some flat-leaved shrubs, causing a cascade of rainwater to flow over his hand and sleeve. "Well, we certainly have lots of water," he said, sarcastically.
     She chuckled and walked through the shrubs as he held them.
     To her relief, the rain soon stopped. Beka shrugged the jacket off and handed it back to him. As she resumed walking, she realized the air had gotten much cooler and the sky had turned gray. Will it be dark again soon?
     She wanted to cry. Not another night in this forest. I can't bear it.
     "I'm so sorry, Beka."
     She turned back toward Jon, tying the jacket around his waist. The misery in his voice made her pause until he had caught up with her.
     "I just don't understand it. We weren't that far from my meeting place when I landed the ship."
     "It's not your fault. The stream must curve more than we realize."
     "Not my fault? How can you say that? All of this is my fault. I'm the one who brought you here. I'm the one who got us lost in these trees."
     "And I'm the one who had the sparkling idea to jump out of your ship. We wouldn't be in these trees if I hadn't done that. Jon, listen. I know the only reason you brought me here was to protect me. The same reason you abandoned your airship. And you're still doing that. It's not your fault we don't have comm units or positioning systems or emergency equipment, or that the trees are blocking the sky. We're both doing the best we can, right?"
     She squeezed his forearm to offer what little encouragement she could give. "Right?"
     He eased his arm out of her grasp and resumed walking. Through the eerie sounds of water dripping from leaves and groundcover snapping, Beka could hear him muttering to himself.
     She hoped he wasn't still blaming himself for their predicament. I guess it's natural for our moods to swing up and down. They were both a tremendous distance out of their comfort zone. I should be glad we haven't both been depressed at the same time. So far.
     He slowed to allow her to catch up to him and asked, "So, what do you do? Your job, I mean."
     Beka chose her words carefully. "I arrange and host events. Parties. Weddings. For officers, mostly. Sometimes a wealthy heiress, government official, or business owner."
     He fell silent again for several minutes. She loathed the idea of lying to him. The desire to tell him her real goals burned in her chest, and she pursed her lips to keep from speaking.
     "You give parties for UPG officers?"
     "Yes. I've built up quite a business in the past three years." She shrugged. "It's a living."
     After another long period of silence, she stopped. "What?" She cringed at the defensive tone in her voice, but she glowered up at him.
     "I thought... what you said about your husband.… You seemed to be afraid of the Guardians earlier."
     "Well, they were chasing us with weapons. And you're the one who said it would be bad for me if I were found with you."
     "I see." 
     He walked ahead of her again to push aside some brush, and she followed as quickly as her aching feet allowed.
     "Look. I can't explain. But I don't…. I have no love for the United People's Guard. Yes, I arrange parties for them and, yes, I'm good at it and it pays very well. But that's all it is -- a job. My mother can't work and I have... friends who need my support. I’m trying to get by the best way I know how. It doesn't mean... it doesn't mean I approve of the way they--"
     "It's all right," he said, turning to her. "You don't owe me an explanation. Who am I to judge? I designed UPG military materiel for over seven years. The weapon design I destroyed is just one in a long line of inventions. You've seen that armored tilt-wing they're so fond of using to swoop down and corner people?"
     "You did that?"
     He sighed and nodded. "I designed it to deliver medical supplies from one level of Unity to another. The freight movators in the spacecolony are too slow in an emergency, especially if the supplies need to go from the Cognitum labs down to the Community Level. I wanted to invent something faster and more maneuverable that would fly through the Inner Atrium. I try not to think about what the UPG is actually using them for."
     She moved closer to him, and they resumed walking. "So, you're an engineer?"
     "Yes, astronautics. I thought I'd be designing a new generation of space stations. They would relieve the overcrowding in the lower levels, and produce food and N2/O2 more efficiently." The regret was clear in his voice.
     "Maybe you will someday."
     "I've trashed any chance of that now."
     Beka used the stick to part some branches to check the stream was still in sight. "What does the weapon do, the one you're keeping from them?"
     "It interferes with the quantum pulses in a person's body. They didn't like the safeguards I was building into it to protect the eyes and other organs. They.... It's best if you don't know, really. If they have your IDPak, I'm sure they'll question you as soon as you get back to Unity."
     Unity. So far away. How am I going to get back? Back to my life. Back to Jonathan. She didn't even know how they were going to get out of these suffocating trees. "How much farther, do you think?"
     He shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know why we haven't found any sign we're close to people. I guess… I guess Earth is bigger and less populated than I imagined. Do you need to stop and rest?"
     "No, I can go a while longer. It can't be much farther, right?"
     "Seven circles of hell if I know."
     They both looked up, hearing the whine of an airship above the trees. Beka's heart leapt in her chest. Oh, finally, someone will get us out of here. Jon grabbed her hand in his excitement, and they ran closer to the stream, trying to see through the break in the leaves.
     "Wait, wait," he said. "We don't know who that is. I can't let the Guardians find me."
     A cold chill replaced the hope in her heart as his words sunk in. "What if they have their sensors on?"
     "Here, quick," he said, pulling her by the hand toward a large tree. "Curl up, so they can't see your shape or the heat of your breath."
     She dropped the staff, fell to the ground, and huddled against the rough bark. He crouched behind her. "It'll be all right. Just don't move," he said softly.
     She ducked her head between her crossed arms. It'll be all right. Don't move. She was trembling, breathing hard. I can't take much more of this. I want to go home!
     Hidden beneath the irregular shape of her hunched body, she felt his hand cover hers and tighten around it. Her moment of panic passed.
     The airship had passed, as well. 
     Did we just escape capture, or did we waste our best chance of rescue?
     She turned and sat on the ground. Disappointment was bitter in her mouth. She clenched her fists and fought the urge to scream. It'll be all right; it'll be all right. "The thought of getting clean and dry and fed was nice for a while."
     Beside her, Jon blew out a shaky breath, his shoulders hunched forward, his forearms resting on his knees. "Yeah."
     She watched as he shook his head, obviously finding it difficult to say anything else. In silence, they stared at the whispering stream and the alien sky and the tangle of green that surrounded them. They kept their dark thoughts to themselves.
     With a mental shake, Beka roused herself. "We should get going."
     Jon’s tight lips moved with silent words, and he nodded. Slowly, he stood, then held out a hand to help her.
     She grabbed his arm and pulled herself up, trying to shift her weight off her right foot. His hand was firm on her side, keeping her steady, and she felt a surge of gratitude. This large, strange man seemed to be there every time she stumbled.
     "We'll be all right." She gave him a faint smile of encouragement.
     "Yeah." He handed her the staff, looked up at the gray sky with a scowl, and turned to walk closer to the stream.
     Before long, they found a flat raised area of dry grass.
     "This is probably as good a place to sleep as any," Jon said.
     She looked around and noticed a few low plants that seemed to be glowing blue, so maybe it wouldn’t be as dark as the night before. "Sure." She squeezed his arm again to raise his spirits. "We'll get through this."
     He nodded but wouldn't look her in the eye. He reached into a pocket on his jacket and pulled out the last few bandages. "I don't know if it's doing you any good at all, but it's the only thing I know to do. Soak your feet with the bandages on this time, so they'll be easier to get off."
     "Good idea. Could you find another level place for me to sit?"
     He nodded and lumbered off downstream, incoherent words drifting behind him.
     He found another eddy of water surrounded by boulders for her to sit on. The water was moving faster, and Beka wondered if that was because of the rain. She would be so glad to be back into civilization, where things made sense and she had a modicum of control. I wonder what civilization even means on Earth. The thought of other people made her think of what she must look like. She tried seeing her reflection in the water, ran her fingers through a few knots in her shoulder-length hair, and groaned.
     "Everything good? Need help getting in the water?" Jon asked.
     "Just wishing for a brush and a mirror," she admitted.
     He looked at her hair, as if he'd never noticed her hair before. "You don't really want a mirror right now."
     Her mouth dropped in surprise. She ran her hands over her mussed golden-brown hair in embarrassment.
     He moved closer and leaned to look her in the eye. "You look fine. I was only teasing."
     "I can't possibly look fine." She turned away from him.
     "Listen to me," he said. "I was just trying to make a joke. Have you had a good look at me lately? My face feels like a wire brush, and I have muddy stuffed socks on my feet. And my hair cannot look any better than yours."
     She let her hands relax at her sides. It's no time to be a prima donna. I’ll get a bath soon, and fresh clothes, and a brush, and the past two days will be a distant memory.
     "Your hair is a mess, that bump has turned your temple a sick purple, your face tint is long gone, though you still have some sparkly stuff around your eyes. You're wearing men's boots that are four sizes too large, and you have a smudge of mud on your left cheek. And honestly? Somehow you still look amazing.”
     His words left her speechless. Surprisingly pleased, but speechless. She scooped some water in her hand and rubbed her left cheek.
     He moved briskly away, and she wondered if he regretted what he'd said. She wondered why he would care so much about what she thought. And why she cared so much about what he thought. She'd known him for one day. And one night. She remembered all the ways he’d tried to make her comfortable during the previous interminable night. He really seems to be a nice person. If we had met some other way, we might have had a chance to become friends. Though he's probably too nice and too intelligent to have any desire to be a friend of Rebeka Patin, socialite party planner.
     After she soaked her feet, he changed her bandages in silence. As he rinsed the bloodied strips and hung them on a branch to dry, he shook his head and mumbled, "Maybe it's helping." He picked up his boots and stared at them a few moments before sliding them back on her feet. “Once you get settled, you should take these boots back off to let them dry. Tomorrow, when it gets hot again, I’ll put some warm rocks inside them any time we take a break. That might help.”
     “That's a good idea. Thanks. Unless we find some people before that.”
     They stared at each other. Beka regretted mentioning the probability of their situation improving. It’s better to take one minute at a time. In silence, Jon helped her stand. With tired limbs and heavy hearts, they walked toward the clearing.
     The sun had set, and Beka shivered, feeling both trapped and exposed in the terrifying darkness. The glowing plants did help somewhat, but she didn’t understand how they could be such a bright blue. Jon had been intrigued by what he called their bioluminescence, but she didn’t want to get too close to them.
     Jon draped his jacket over her shoulders without speaking. If any other man had done that, she would have coyly pretended to appreciate his assumption he knew what she wanted without asking her. Somehow, with Jon, she wasn't pretending. Somehow, accepting his gesture was acknowledging his innate kindness and empathy, and his instinct to make the situation easier for her. It didn't diminish her in any way.
     He limped back toward the stream. I should have been paying more attention. His padded socks were drenched and, surely, only providing cursory protection.
Beka pulled the chemise from her pocket and shook it out. Jon’s jacket kept this dry, at least. She tossed down the walking stick, dropped to her knees, and spread the silken fabric on the ground. A breath later, her head was on it, eyes closed and eager for sleep. She pulled Jon's jacket across her chest, up to her chin. With an effort, she turned toward splashing sounds Jon was making at the stream.
     "Jon?" she called sleepily.
     "I'm here. I'll be right there," he called back, sounding tired and anxious.
     Soon, Jon dropped to his knees beside her and removed his waterlogged socks.
     He pointed toward her feet. “I can get those off now.”
     She nodded. Once he’d removed the boots, he wrapped more bandages around her feet to keep them warm. He wrapped his own bare feet with the few remaining dry strips of cloth. Then he laid his head near hers on the chemise..
     "Hi, there," she said, turning to him and moving the jacket to cover his chest. The temperature had dropped quickly, along with the sun. She noticed his facial stubble was getting quite heavy. She'd once seen a brown bear in the Unity Naturalist Zoo on the Entertainment Level, and he was reminding her more and more of one. But not as threatening.
     He gave her a sad smile. "Hey. Are you hurting?"
     She drew a deep breath and tried not to think of her burning feet and hands. At least the wound on her forehead wasn't throbbing as much as before. "Not too bad. I'll be better after some rest, I think. How about you?"
     "You're shivering. Would you like to move closer?" He rolled toward her as she inched closer. He rubbed her arms briskly, then chafed her back. "Better?"
     She nodded, but she didn't miss the fact he hadn't answered her question.
     "I have to say you're one of the most uncomplaining women I know. If I had to choose the best person to be lost with on a post-apocalyptic planet, you'd win, no doubt."
     She laughed, relieved his dark mood seemed to have passed. She slid her arm over his side. Her face fit smoothly in the curve of his shoulder.
     He jerked away from her. "I need to turn on my other side," he said, brusquely.
     "All right," she said, pulling her arm away from him. She hesitated in confusion as he turned his back to her. She didn't understand why he was pulling away from her, again, especially after the teasing compliment he had just given her. "Do you still want to share the jacket?"
     "Yes, move close. Stay as warm as you can," he said over his shoulder.
     She wriggled until her thighs were pressed to the back of his, and her chest pressed against his back. She heard him hiss and felt his body stiffen. I guess he didn’t mean that close. How many times do I need to tell myself it’s better to keep my distance? She rolled slightly away and pulled the jacket higher over his shoulder, letting her hand rest there.
     She tried to quiet her thoughts and understand what had just happened. She was beginning to know Jon, to know the oversized stranger who had become her partner in survival. The oversized kindness in his heart was impossible to fake. He was obviously uncomfortable with her lying too close to him, but he didn’t ask her to move away because he wanted her to stay warm.
     “Is it okay for my arm to be around you?” she asked.
     She felt his body rise and fall with a deep, shuddering breath. He reached up to his shoulder, intertwined his fingers with hers, and pulled her hand against his chest. She felt him relax, and she smiled against his back.
     "G'night," he whispered.
     "Good night," she whispered back with a yawn.
 
                                                                                                *****
 
     Jon woke to the muted sounds of her crying. He had no idea how to help her, or if she even wanted his help.
     Hours before, the perfect feel of her face against his neck had stirred him in a way he’d never experienced before. Something deeper than his obvious arousal. He had turned his back to her to prevent her noticing. When she had pressed herself against his back to stay warm, the firmness of her breasts and thighs nearly pushed him beyond control.
     It didn’t make sense. They barely knew each other. A strong, intelligent, beautiful woman like her would never have even noticed him if they had met some other way. He was foolishly allowing their dire circumstances to inflame his emotions.
     But she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. No matter how foolish his reasons were, he wanted nothing more than to make her safe, comfortable, and happy. At that moment, she was none of those things, and he felt completely powerless.
     "Are you all right?" he asked softly.
     She jumped. She wiped at her tears, keeping her hands across her face. "I'm sorry. I was trying to not wake you."
     "Do you want me to move away? Have I made you scared of me again?"
     She turned to face him. "No, no. It's nothing like that. I’m sorry I woke you."
     "Then move closer. You're shivering again," he said, sliding his arm under her neck.
     She buried her face against his chest, but the soft whimpers she was trying to hide sounded as if she were drowning in misery. His inability to help her was like acid in his soul.
     "Beka... I need you to promise me something."
     She looked up in surprise. "What?"
     "I need you to promise, as long as we're in this mess, you will never, ever, ever apologize to me again."
     She stared at him a while, then said, "I will, on one condition."
     "Oh, and what's that?"
     "You must promise to stop blaming yourself for us being in this mess."
     His body stiffened. "That's different."
     "No," she insisted. "No, it's exactly the same. We're both doing the best we can in an incredibly difficult situation that we didn't ask for."
     What is she saying? How can this not be my fault? But it is true, I never wanted any of this. He nodded.
     "So, we have a deal," she said, relaxing against him.
     "We have a deal.” She’s so easy to talk to, and she feels so perfect in my arms. I just need to control myself, not turn away from her again. “Now, other than being cold, tired, hungry, injured, lying on the ground, lost with a total stranger in the middle of a flickin' forest on a burnt-out planet, why are you crying?"
     She gave him a watery smile, then sighed. "I keep thinking about the ones worrying about where I am." He could see the pain in her eyes as she thought about the people in her life.
     "Ah. I hadn't thought of that. Yes, there must be several people back on Unity who are missing you by now." Someone like her must have a close family and a large group of friends. She probably has several men devoted to making her happy.
     "My mother must be frantic. I keep thinking how scared she must be."
     "I'm sure she is. But anyone who really knows you knows how competent and clever and brave you are. I'm sure they're worried, but I'm also sure they have faith you'll pull through whatever you've gotten into. They know you'll be back with them, explaining how you survived all this, as soon as you're able."
     "Do you really think that?"
     He was confused to hear surprise in her voice. Does she truly not realize how incredibly she’s coping with this whole catastrophe? “I know it. You have more courage and resilience than anyone I've ever met, Beka. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but... a part of me is very glad you were in that alley. If you hadn't been there, I would have come to Earth, and we would have never met."
     "I think... I feel the same way. You don't feel like a total stranger to me, Jon. You feel like a partner, a friend. But it's crazy; we've only known each other two days."
     "I believe we know more about each other than some people learn after a lifetime together. I know you're clear-thinking in a crisis, and you're willing to try anything that might help. You can be funny and serious at the same time. I know that I like the things I've learned about you."
     She moved her head to relax more into the crook of his neck. "Yes, that's what I feel, too. I like the things I’ve learned about you."
     "You know, if you consider the time we've spent together as some bizarre series of dates, we'd be on about our tenth date by now."
     She laughed.
     "So, I was thinking...." Careful. Don’t say anything stupid.
     "What?" she asked, tilting her head to look into his face.
     "I was thinking... by the tenth date... I was hoping… you wouldn't mind if I kissed you good night."
     She was stunned into silence as she studied his face. "You want to kiss me?"
     "Very much."
     She raised her fingertips to her lips.
     Damn, you fool. What are you thinking? Now she’ll be more afraid of you than ever. He looked away from her and said, "But it's all good. Forget I said that."
     Before he could move away, she raised her hand to his stubbled cheek. With her fingertips, she pulled his face toward hers.
     Her kiss was as wonderful as he had expected and more than he had hoped for. She was warm, soft, welcoming, but there was no mistaking the passion simmering deep within her. Too soon, she pulled back and stared deep into his eyes.
     He could barely catch his breath. "It would tear out my heart to see you were afraid of me again."
     "I'm not afraid. Not of you. Bugs, yes. The dark, yes."
     He smiled. What an incredible woman. He kissed her again, harder than before, nibbling on her bottom lip. He twisted her hair with his fist and heard her moan. He ached to hear that soft moan again and again.
     No, no, no! He rolled away from her, his breath heavy and ragged. "You'll be okay here by yourself for a few minutes?"
     She blinked and frowned in confusion. "Yes."
     "I need to find a cold shower somewhere." He stood and blew a long plume of chilled air as he stared down at her. Get yourself under control. He turned toward the stream.
     The walk to the stream was slow torture. He hadn’t even thought of putting on his boots, he was so overwhelmed by desire for her. He wanted to hold on to the feeling, savor it, explore it, explore her. But he needed to repair the situation as quickly as he could. I can’t make her afraid of me again. I won’t. As he stepped into the icy water, the heat suffusing his body turned to shivering. He was worsening his torture, but he accomplished his goal.
     He found his way back to her as quickly as he could. He lay his head next to hers and curled his body to keep it off the cold grass as much as possible. He pressed his side against her to try to draw what warmth he could, but his hands and feet were freezing. His shivering wasn't stopping.
     “Oh, no! What's wrong? Come here.” She pulled him toward her and pulled the jacket over him. She rubbed his back briskly, trying to warm him the way he'd done for her numerous times.
     With a groan, he pressed himself against her, his hands clenched between them, his face pressed into her neck. "I can't… I can't stop." 
     She chafed his back again. "What can I do?" she pleaded.
     "You're... doing it," he stammered. "Just hold me. Please."
     She moved her calves up and down against his and trapped his icy feet between them. She pressed her cheek against the top of his head as she pulled him tighter.
     Finally, his body stilled, and he took a deep breath.
     "I'm okay now," he said, his forehead still pressed against her neck.
     She slightly loosened her hold on him but didn’t move away. He relaxed and straightened and melted right against her.
     "Thanks," he sighed. He moved one arm out to caress her side and said, "You feel really good."
     She kissed the top of his head and whispered, "You, too. But isn't this what started the trouble to begin with?"
     He chuckled. "Yeah, you're right. And I can't get in that water again tonight, for sure."
     She laughed softly.
     "But I don't want you getting too cold during the night." He spread the jacket over her and rested his arm under it across her waist. "I'm fine just like this, if you are," he said.
     "Perfect."
     Yes, perfect. The way their bodies were entwined felt natural, instinctive, and she seemed comfortable with it as well. Her eyes were closed, and she still trapped his toes between her calves to warm them. He'd never been so miserable and so content at the same time. Even though he was hungry and in multiple levels of pain and frustration, he felt confident they would survive because they were on the same team. They were partners who looked out for one another, cared about each other, and could be depended on for help when needed. For a while, at least.
     He still found it difficult to understand his feelings about her. She seems to simply belong in my arms. He couldn’t imagine what feelings she might have for him, beyond depending on him to get her home. He opened his eyes and could see, in the glow from the night sky, she was solemnly looking at his face. He had the uncomfortable feeling she was reading his mind, but she didn’t seem disturbed by it.
     "Let's get some sleep," he said, closing his eyes. "Tomorrow we'll find someone who can help us."
     "Yes," she murmured, and snuggled closer to him.
     Perfect.