Carolyn Muir could not understand how or why, but in the dead of night, she found herself standing in the doorway of her own bedroom in Gull Cottage.

Barefooted she stood, shrouded by darkness, a whip of lightning flashing in the distance.

She looked around her, in search of a light switch, to no avail. She could not see anything nor hear anything, and even the sound of thunder was silenced by some strange omnipotent power.

Carolyn tried to move away from the doorway and into the bedroom to look for matches, but to her terror, she realized she could not move her feet. A sense of dread stiffened her bones, overpowering her as she valiantly tried to will herself to move. But it was hopeless, she was firmly planted there, or so it seemed. She tried to open her mouth to call out for help, but no sound came out.

She trembled inwardly.

Desperate for light, her fingers tried once more to find the light switch, with a fervent prayer on her lips that the electricity had not short-circuited in favor of the storm.

She could not find it.

What made matters worse, was the fact that there now was this atrocious smell permeating the entirety of the room. A scent so pungent, so sharp and stifling, she began to cough. Her eyes were beginning to water.

What is that smell?

She thought to herself.

Something had told her that whatever scent it was, it was lethal, and surely she would suffocate if she did not try to leave the room as quickly as possible. She covered her mouth and nose with her hands, and miraculously, she could feel her feet slowly detach itself from the hard-wood floor.

Carolyn then realized she had to awaken the children, get Scruffy, and Martha, and...

Before she could turn to leave, just as the scent grew even more stronger, light from the storm outside slowly reflected into the room. Just enough for her to see the silhouette of a man, sound asleep in her bed.

Her heart quickened. Whoever he was, her subconscious was screaming at her vociferously, telling her she could not leave without him.

She quickly found her bearings, and amidst the darkness and toxic air, found her way towards the slumbering man. She moved as though she was underwater. Her heart quivered beneath her chest with fear, for she couldn't breath properly. She kept wheezing and coughing, each breath heavy and difficult, until finally at last she reached his bedside.

She took one look at his handsome face, and even in the blackness of night it caused an ache deep within her to stir.

Why was he so achingly familiar?

Carolyn could not ponder on that now, for she had to get everyone out of the house before they would succumb to this horrible stench of death.

Gas heaters.

She mumbled under her breath in agitation.

...

GAS!

Her eyes widened in horror.

Violently, the realization of what the smell was, was so forceful and tenacious, it felt as though someone had bashed her head with a thousand vases.

Her head was spinning as she hastened to nudge the sleeping man in her bed.

"Ummm...Hello?" Said Carolyn in hesitation, gently shaking his arm,"Sir...Wake up... Please, there's a gas leak in the room. We can't stay here..." Her words were muffled, she couldn't even hear herself.

She felt dazed and confused.

Who was he? Logic, at the moment, could not rationalize as to why; nor how that man managed to get inside the house.

Yet still Carolyn tried several more times to awaken him. But the man did not stir.

She had began to shake horribly, she could not understand why she was crying.

"Please wake up," She tried again as she took a quick glance at the door, contemplating on dragging him out of bed.

But how? He had always been so tall, how could she possibly drag his 6"2 frame out of the bed?

There was no time to waste. "Captain Gregg we have to leave, the gas leak-"

His name came effortlessly from her lips.

She froze.

The tears that had gathered in her eyes, falling faster than the rain; as she finally recognized him.

An immediate anguish followed her initial shock, gathering deep in her soul as she watched him slowly die before her.

Each breath he took, filling his lungs with poison.

Yet Carolyn could not find it in her heart to let him go. Her stubborn nature would not surrender so easily - even to death itself.

"Oh Daniel..." She wept, kneeling beside him as she placed her head against his strong chest. "Please wake up, please...Don't make me leave you in this dark alone...please..."

She took his hand, and gently pressed a kiss against his skin; she whimpered, till only her sobs could be heard resonating in the air.

"Daniel..."

"Madame?... Madame?"

There was a strange voice that seemed to be calling her from a great distance. Its rich timbre pulling her out of the dream as though she was a feather, floating in some awful black abyss that seemed to have been plunging her deeper into the unknown.

"Confound it woman, please awaken!"

Jolted from her unconscious state by his voice; Carolyn opened her eyes to find Captain Daniel Gregg hovering above her, his cerulean eyes strained with concern.

Her eyes blinked rapidly as they adjusted to the sudden brightness in the room, all the lights have been turned on.

She looked cautiously around. There was no storm, and no short circuit in the electrical wiring. And most importantly, no smell of toxic gas fumes in the air.

"You were dreaming," He said, noting the vexation in her face. "It was only a dream m'dear, nothing to be frightened of." He said again, trying to ease her ruffled nerves.

He watched intently as Carolyn roused herself into a half sitting position, her eyes glossy. Her blonde hair besottingly mussed by the pillows.

She did not answer him, however. She didn't even look at him.

"Madame?" He called out to her again, this time in that special softness of voice he reserved only for her.

He could see the troubled look in her eyes, as he sat beside her. It was not only troubled, but despondent. As though any more words from him would have sent her crumbling, as if she were made of sand. This was obviously more than just a case of night-terrors. This was something different - deeply rooted within her.

"What is it?" He asked her, his eyes seeking an answer.

"Its nothing...really...only a bad dream..." She replied, almost lamely.

He eyed her scrupulously. "Clearly, 'tis not Madame. Something has greatly disturbed your equilibrium, and whether or not you lie, the truth is still evident upon your face." He responded.

"If you wish to discuss it-"

"I do not wish to discuss it, Captain." Carolyn snapped. Wincing surreptitiously at how sharp her tone was towards him. But she could not help it. She was feeling vulnerable, too vulnerable.

Most especially now, now that he was so near, so real.

She bit her lip to stop it from trembling. "Now," Carolyn began, keeping her tone even, "If you would be so kind, I'd like to go back to sleep."

The Captain's gaze lingered on her for a few brief moments, his pensive mind coming to a conclusion.

And with a small nod, and downcast eyes; indicative of his private hurt at her tone, Captain Gregg immediately stood up.

"Very well, Madame. Goodnight." And with a small salute, he dematerialized.

Confident that he was out of earshot, Carolyn exhaled a deep breath she had been holding. It was not long till she had begun to cry again, the quiet sobs echoing wistfully outside the balcony window.

Little did she know that he was listening. For he did not truly leave, but kept a protective watch close by; in his own way, sharing the sorrow she carried. Even if he could not comfort her, though his arms longed to do so.

By dawn, early the next morning. All was forgotten, or so it seemed.

It was a Friday, on that most peculiar morn. All was as it should be, and yet something was amiss. Something out of place. This would not go without notice by Gull Cottage's resident ghost.

Captain Daniel Gregg decided, that it would most be fitting to deal with Carolyn, with the utmost delicacy once she awoke - at 6:45 a.m. to be precise. For he did not rematerialize to greet her good morning, as per usual. But allowed her to bask in her own solitude, in the expense of having to keep himself hidden from her. But he would not be far, if she would ever need him.

So instead, he lingered outside the balcony. Nothing but glass and wood that separated her to him. But to Captain Gregg, it was far more than just glass and wood that divided them altogether. It was an entire lifetime; an entire century; a whole universe. And the only thing that allowed him to trespass that barrier between those two worlds, was the fact that he was a spirit. (Thank God he had a soul. Though in regards to Claymore, he wasn't sure if that money-grubbing leech even has one.)

And though he was given eternity, infinity, etc...

When it came to the singular thought of Carolyn Muir, it all seemed so - empty.

Yes, he enjoyed being the notorious haunter of Gull Cottage; harboring sheer pestilence to who so ever challenged him. But then, what did it all mean; if the one true happiness he had found could never be his, what was the proverbial point in it all?

As his eyes wandered to the the feminine form of his secret beloved; watching her quietly from a distance as she combed her hair in front of the vanity mirror, he knew the answer. But the contents of its revelation was a consequence he was not ready to face as of yet.

Surreptitiously though, digressing his earlier train of thought, as his attention now centered on her. He realized that it had been almost two years since this whirlwind of a woman came into his life - after life, that is.

And for two years he had watched her comb her hair. Watching her in the early morning as she combed away the natural soft curls of her mane. Two years of knowing the idiosyncratic way she would don her robe; slipping the right sleeve first, then the left. Two years of memorizing the sounds and expressions she made when she would be writing a story; all sighs, frowns, smiles and occasional giggles of excitement, when the subject enthralled her. Yet never losing the audacious glint in her eyes as she turned in her work, confident of which ever way the outcome would be.

In fact, she was audacious in anything that she sought to achieve.

Brave.

That's what she was.

That was one of the many words he silently used to describe her. Not only for having the courage to speak her own mind, but in the way she had proved him wrong (Not always.), several times. (Though he would never admit it.). And for her steadiness in facing him at the height of his anger, like a dove against a raging bull; emerging from their verbal jousting unscathed. She was no docile kitten either. She too had her own unique concoction of combustible wrath. He could not even fathom how such a petite frame could almost look dangerous when angry, was beyond him.

He particularly liked that she was not complacent to anyone, or anything. But kept dignity a priority; including the fact that she considered herself to be a man's equal, and would not take anything less for what she's truly worth.

Setting aside all those things, there was another twist to her nature. An immense sensitivity deep within her; the kind of softness she possessed, that made him weak with tenderness for her.

Yet in spite of all her femininity she had a strong; unrelenting, sense of independence. A part of her character he greatly admired. But yet, there were times when he felt that she was too independent - even to emotion.

Perhaps, they both were. Hiding in fear at their circumstance.

Such an impossible feat, the cards fate had dealt them with. Neither of them could even console the other, just for the sake of being consoled.

Their barrier was almost made out of some spectral glass.

Always to see, but never to touch.

...

He unhappily confined himself in the alcove for the rest of the morning.

He furiously worked on his sea charts, monitoring the changing of the tides; and even went as far as brushing up on his astrology and studiously noted the phases of the moon.

But even that could not deter the course of his thoughts, such thoughts that sailed back to her.

He avoided Carolyn for half the day, in hopes that her temperament would change. But this was not to be so. Her eyes still carried that same look, distant and dismal; all the way through breakfast and her usual 2 and a half cups of coffee. And worst of all, she seemed to be welcoming to his self-induced absence.

Her sudden reticence, and seeming apathy towards him on that day was not only hurtful, but insulting!

Her choice not to confide to him about such matters, made him feel terribly isolated from her.

By now, he had come to the decision that he would get to the bottom of whatever it was that disturbed her - whether she liked it or not. And he had just the perfect plan in mind.

...

After the bustle that came with breakfast, the Captain could hear the children saying their good-byes to Martha before they left for school.

He was unaware that the youngest of the Muir children had come back into the house; the quick patter of his footsteps resonating from the living room and into the alcove.

"Captain?" Said Jonathan as he entered the room.

The Captain turned in his seat, momentarily surprised by the little boy. "Yes lad? I thought you and Candy had already left for school. You should run along, you don't want to be tardy in your school work do you?"

"No," Jonathan conceded, "But I did want to ask you something."

He met the boy's blue gaze, "Of course lad, anything you wish."

"What's wrong with Mom?"

The simple question caught him off-guard. "Well Jonathan..." He made a small gesture with his hands, trying to concoct an accurate answer without worrying him, when Jonathan spoke again.

"If you could talk to her Captain, I think it'd help," He said with eagerness. "She wasn't herself this morning. She barely talked to me or Candy, or even Martha when she told Mom she would be going into town after we would leave for school. It was like she woke up different... I don't like it." Said the young boy glumly, his lips turning into a small frown.

The Captain smiled at him, his eyes full of understanding, " I know lad, my sentiments exactly."

"Yeah, Captain Gregg. You really should talk to Mom, she's been acting weird today." Intercepted Candy as she joined in on their conversation.

"Candy, have you been listening to us the whole time?" Inquired Jonathan in a tone that hinted his displeasure at having his, and the Captain's, private converse interrupted.

"Of course I was. Glad to know I wasn't the only one who noticed it. But whatever it is that's troubling Mom, it must be serious." Candy stated as she donned her favorite baseball cap.

Outside the Cottage, the sound of the school bus could be heard coming up the driveway.

"How would you know Candy? You were too busy daydreaming about Mark Helmore!"

"Was not!" Candy shot back, her face turning red.

"Was too!"

"Alright, alright. Settle down," Announced the Captain, before the two would enter into a contentious debate. "I'll speak to your mother, be rest assured."

"But," Both children said in unison.

"No buts. Both of you, best be off, the bus is waiting. I can't have either of my crew dragging their anchors."

"Blast." Jonathan mumbled under his breath.

He watched as the two hasten out of the room after saying their respective good-byes. He then stood up from his seat and walked towards the window. He carefully lifted the curtains, and could see Jonathan and Candace running towards their school bus. Both siblings waving at him once, just before they cast off.

There has to be a solution to this.

He pondered thoughtfully, his eyes watching the yellow bus disappear as it reached the main road. This strange ailment that was afflicting her was not only affecting him greatly, but the children as well. He could not shake the twinge of sadness and worry when he looked into Jonathan's searching eyes; trusting him that there would be an answer to their questions.

But before he could find it, he shall have to speak with her first. Come hell or high water.

Prodding into a woman's psyche was as easy as finding Davy Jone's locker, he mused apprehensively.

First things first, as he set about the task of setting his plan in action. He needed to make sure that no one would disturb them for the remainder of the day. And so, he summoned the rain to come forth. Serving as a temporary barricade against anyone who wanted to drop in unexpectedly.

He wished to have a long conversation with her, and he intended to do so. But first he needed to find her.

...

He rematerialized himself into their bedroom. But to his disappointment, it was empty. However, she left traces of herself there; from the faint scent of her perfume, to the untouched typewriter which already had a fresh sheet of paper rolled into it; yet remained, for the moment, unused.

He checked every other part of the house, but he could not seem locate her.

The last possible place he could scour, was the wheelhouse.

His instinct was proven accurate when he saw Scruffy, lightly pawing and whining at the foot of the door. Even the poor creature was worried about its mistress. The Captain petted him for a little while as he bided his time; after a moment or two, he watched the little wire fox terrier move away in the opposite direction, as though anticipating a tempest.

For him, irrevocably, It was time to face the squall.

He straightened his posture. His first thoughts was to barge into that room and demand answers to his questions, but he knew her far better than that. For not only could she be elusive, she could also elude him completely if she felt that her position would be threatened.

And so, he decided not to make his immediate presence known. Instead, he slipped himself right through the door with ease.

Once inside, his eyes searched for her amidst the abundant masts of antiquity; till finally, the familiar sight of her hair called out to him from a sea of black and grey.

Captain Gregg found her standing near a window, her lovely features calm; dressed in a navy blue cotton sweater, and beige capri pants.

Beautiful.

He thought to himself in secret.

But her eyes, as she looked out at the vast ocean below, told of a more somber emotion.

He walked very quietly towards her, each step calculated and conscientious with thought.

The Captain knew what he wanted to ask, only he was not quite sure how to begin. For he did not quite fully understand what troubled her so.

"Was there something you needed Captain?" Spoke Carolyn very softly, almost quietly. Uttering the words without so much as a glance at him.

Blast!

The Captain materialized himself now fully, now that his presence was compromised.

He cleared his throat as he tugged on his sleeve. " I do apologize m'dear, I did not wish to disturb you."

"Oh, you didn't," Replied Carolyn, "I only came here to look for Candy's transistor radio, she told me she had trouble finding it this morning."

"Ahh, perhaps I may be of assistance Madame?"

"Its quite alright, Captain." Carolyn assured him as she held up the radio in her hand. "I already found it by myself."

Their eyes met in the dim light, the sound of rain enclosing them in a comforting embrace.

Carolyn could see the thoughts he was wrestling with internally, though his eyes did not waver from hers.

She knew she had to leave the room quickly. Knowing him all too well that he would corner her in one way or another, especially after the way she's been acting since last night.

She was the first to break from their spell. "Excuse me Captain, I still have some work to do, and papers to finish." She tossed the words in what she hoped was a casual tone, as she hurriedly left her post at the window.

She started to walk past him, when his voice stopped her.

"Mrs. Muir, it is against my utter nature to pry. But since circumstance has arranged for us to live side by side, and we have been doing so for the past two years; aren't I entitled to some explanation when something has gone terribly amiss aboard my ship? Most especially if a certain 'thing', has been the profound cause of one of my shipmate's unhappiness?

Carolyn turned to face him slowly, "Captain, are you asking me a hypothetical question?"

He could not meet her direct gaze, but pressed on, "Yes." He answered. "And since it is a hypothetical question, does it not deserve a theoretical answer?"

"Not when I'm unsure of the contents regarding the question." She responded simply.

Clearly she knew what he was talking about. But so far she decided that semantics would be the best way to skirt the main issue.

He could feel his frustration begin to rise.

"Obviously, the attempts in coaxing the answer from you is fruitless. The effort has sadly come to nought." He said in exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I don't know what you're talking about... Captain, I have a story that I have to write, if you'll excuse me." She said with a note of finality.

"Mrs. Muir, you know precisely what I speak of." Spoke the Captain, his voice lowering, signaling his level of impatience.

She met his eyes, that were dark with a storm that seemed to have been bubbling hotly inside of him. But she would not be intimidated by him - man, ghost, or otherwise.

"I do not have time for this." She mumbled angrily. Turning on her heel as she moved past him swiftly.

"Carolyn!" His voice was like a lashing. Demanding and masterful.

She was not sure whether she stopped because of the sound of his voice, or the way he had spoken her name.

"The discussion has not yet been dismissed, Madame." He said sternly. Making his way towards her.

"Oh, yes it has." She said through gritted teeth, adamant in reaching the door. But before she could even come within five paces of it, it slammed close.

"I said," The captain reiterated himself, "I have not finished speaking to you."

Her eyes glowered at him, "Open this door," She warned, ignoring his previous words.

She watched as he stubbornly held his ground, crossing his arms against his chest.

"Open this door, or I will!" She exclaimed.

A delicious smirk, played upon his mouth, his beard hiding the inception of a sly grin.

"I'd like to see you try."

She raised a brow at him, taking in his words as a challenge.

She purposefully marched to the door and gripped the handle, and as she pulled with all her might, Carolyn realized it was stuck.

"Did you lock this door just now?" She demanded, walking back towards him furiously.

He repressed the urge to take a step backwards at the sight of a raging female; instead, he kept his mighty chin high. "Innocent, until proven guilty." He stated.

She knew it was hopeless to argue with him at this point.

Little did Carolyn know, he intentionally kept the door jammed from the other side.

She looked at him skeptically, then grudgingly asked, "Can't you ask Martha to come up here and to help me open the door?"

"I would, Madame. But unfortunately she has gone into town."

"Well," She said, wringing her hands, "Can't you, just, pop in and tell her I'm stuck here?"

His brows furrowed with distaste at her suggestion. "I am not a messenger dog, I shall do nothing of the kind."

"Of course you won't" She grumbled.

"Martha will be returning home in any case, if you'd be willing to wait for a little while that is." Continued the Captain, trying to keep her from being any more suspicious of his intentions.

He watched her sigh deeply.

There was a brief pause between them.

He looked her over, as the Captain weighed his words, "Why are you so suddenly eager to be free of my company?" He asked, attempting to hide any emotion in his tone. "I won't deny you the pleasure of unabridged solace, if you find my presence insufferable." He added.

Her eyes darted straight forth at him. Guilt slowly creeping up against her spine. "Captain...I...Its not like that..."

"Then what is it?" The fire in his voice was slowly returning. "A few moments ago, you implied through your actions with pristine clarity that being in the same room with me is not only intolerable, but entirely detestable! Out with it then, I implore you!"

"I did nothing of the kind! I merely, politely explained I had some prior engagements that I needed to fulfill. Do not blame your presumptions on me, you came to that asinine conclusion all by yourself. What you have said, is not only untrue, but is severely maligning to my dignity!"

"It is not a presumption, it is a fact." He argued vehemently, "And would you care to stand by your words, when I say that it is also a fact; that your actions towards me last night was in the utmost indifference? When I was only merely trying to aid you in your hour of need?"

"I was not indifferent, I wanted to go back to sleep!'

"You wouldn't even look at me!"

"Well I apologize that my supposed 'indifference' has bruised your gargantuan ego-"

"So you do admit it!"

"I admit to nothing!"

Utterly.

Eternally.

Perpetually.

Female.

They looked at each other, armed to a teeth, ready for a long verbal battle.

But surprisingly, it was Carolyn who waved the white flag. Her eyes no longer carried the fire of the anger she had, only but a moment ago. The flames flickered, and diluted, till another emotion surfaced within the turquoise pools of her irises.

"I don't understand why we are even having this argument." Carolyn said suddenly, her voice tired.

She diverted her gaze when he came closer towards her.

Once he knew she was out of her own personal, flammable, cesspool of explosives; he too quenched his own hellfire, knowing there was a far more important matter at hand.

By now she had turned her back against him. Stubbornly refusing to say any thing more. But the Captain was adamant, as he was persuasive.

He leaned close, invading the space in between her shoulder and neck. He whispered against her ear."You know why." He said, his tone softening considerably, both their tempers spent. "Why did you cry after I left, Carolyn?"

She closed her eyes at the sound of her name from his lips.

With much trepidation, Carolyn Muir turned to face him as she spoke.

"You stayed..." She said in realization.

The Captain took a step back, allowing her space.

"Yes... with regret, I did not keep my word. But it was of the utmost importance...I was worried for you."

Carolyn lowered her head. Saying nothing.

"My dear, you have proven the longevity of your strength time and again, long enough to know that it is boundless. But I will not turn a deaf ear when that strength is challenged. I came here, to you, with a single sole purpose. I want to speak to you, now, not as the dead to the living, but as one soul to another." The last words were almost barely audible, but the meaning sunk deeply to either of them.

Still she did not answer. He watched as she eased away from him, and headed towards the velvet couch at the opposite end of the room.

He followed her, not long after.

He knew her silence could be a form of equivocation, or of her doubt. But in this case, it was neither of those two. But rather, an intangible thought, that even he could not penetrate.

Carolyn watched as he sat himself beside her. Turning away from him, once she felt the tears fill the corners of her eyes.

Captain Gregg's heart grew heavy at the sight of her sadness.

"Confound it, woman." He said, meaning it to sound irascible, yet ending up sounding almost pleading. "Why can't you confide in me? As you've always done? What has changed?"

"Am I not a friend? Do you not know dearest lady, that whatever secrets you share will be treated as precious treasures?" He said in exasperation. Then continued gently as he looked at her, "That your pain is my grief, your sadness is my sorrow. Won't you share whatever bitterness that ails you, so that we may surpass it together?"

"Won't you even look at me?," He said, almost feeling hopeless.

She knew she would not be able to resist that voice for too long. Without her even realizing it, that dream she had of him, was affecting her far more than reason would allow. Because in truth, she could not imagine a life; here or in the next, without a Captain Gregg. But at the moment, she did not want to speak of it.

She wanted to be held, to keep her from drowning in her own lachrymose of repressed feelings.

Carolyn knew the fact that the Captain could be corporeal for a certain matter of time. This notion she was made aware of, during her second year at Gull Cottage. She also knew that the Captain had the knowledge of her notion. But they never acknowledged it, for the line that they would cross might become to expensive to bear.

But at the moment, she cared not for consequences nor barriers. She was weak, she needed something - someone to cling to.

She turned to face him, her cheeks flushed, eyes glistening with tears.

It was her turn to speak.

"I will give your question an answer," She began, her voice shaky, "But you must answer mine first."

"Anything you desire to ask, Madame."

"I've known for a long while, that you can be...corporeal..."

He felt a frission of alarm, but did not show it.

"...Yes...I too was aware that you knew..."The Captain answered in hesitation.

He watched her pause, as she gathered her thoughts.

"How long can you be...like that?" She asked finally. Her eyes meeting his, no longer disguising the look of her needs.

He captured her gaze and mirrored his own emotion in hers.

Without answering first, he stretched his hand towards her. His fingers finding their way to the nape of her neck, caressing the skin lightly there. His touch was neither cold nor, warm. But it was his touch nevertheless that she so longingly seeked.

"As long as you want to be held." He whispered in answer.

Then he pulled her towards him, without even using any force. For she simply fell into his arms, as he cradled her close to his chest.

Carolyn clung to him deeply, as more tears flowed.

The smell of her, the warmth of her against him dulled his spectral senses.

He held her closer as he placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

They stayed that way for what seemed like a very long time, relishing in the haven that they created in each other's arms.

A long while would follow, before Carolyn would break the silence. She knew he would ask her again the same question nevertheless, sooner or later. It was now best that she would answer him.

"I had a dream last night..." She started, feeling brave in the protection of his arms. She lightly caressed his chest, though its skin was hidden by the several layers of clothing he wore.

He closed his eyes at the sensation of her touch.

"That dream I awoke you from?" He asked.

"Yes. It wasn't just a dream. I can't exactly explain it..."

He lightly stroked her back in a soothing manner, urging her to continue.

"It was like... I was watching how you died a hundred years ago..." Her voice broke as she buried her face into his chest. "It was horrible, I don't know why I was there. But all I knew was, I tried to rouse you from sleep. The air smelled of death, I kept shaking you, but you wouldn't awaken...Then when I awoke and saw you there, I felt this helplessness at...everything..."

She shivered lightly at the memory of the dream.

It was then that he finally understood.

"The past...my past... unfortunately cannot be unwritten." He paused, there was a thought in his head, whether or not he should share it was nebulous.

"But however, Madame. Have you ever stopped to consider what it would be like, had I never come into your life and the children's? And if there was... such a power that could make you forget my existence in this house, would you take it?" The Captain asked, he needed to know; to be reassured that his presence in their lives was not hindering the kind of happiness they deserve.

Carolyn raised her head to meet his eyes, almost hurt by his words. "Then such a life would have only been half lived, if I were to accept such a thing."

The Captain smiled at her tenderly. His eyes sparkling with melancholic rapture, touching her cheek with his hand as he spoke, greatly content at her answer, "I've touched yesterday's face, withholding tears of what could not be, but to smile at what is - what you have given - freely. You are my today, tomorrow, and ever after.

"The past was nothing but a dream to me now, you were my awakening."

"But... don't you have any regrets?" She asked.

At this, he used his other hand to hold her waist, to keep her steady against him. Then used his free hand to intertwine their fingers together.

She watched as both their hands became inexplicably conjoined. Then he said, as an answer to her question. "My only regret beloved, would been to have spent eternity without knowing the sweet ecstasy that came with loving you."

When she heard his answer, a smile delicately found its way to her mouth.

And she said, "My sentiments exactly...Daniel."

A/N: Hey guys, got inspired again. Haha! This was longer than I planned, but I definitely had fun writing about these two. Gotta' love them both! As I've said before any typos will be corrected. Happy reading lovelies! 3 God bless.

I do NOT own anything.