"Brought somethin' for breakfast for ya. Had a part in makin' everythin', too," Hasil said, leading Sally Ann through the house. When they arrived to the kitchen, he unpacked until half of the table in the center of the room was covered with an assortment of items from his bag. All were wrapped tightly until Hasil's hands began to unravel their bindings.

He gave the first of the items to Sally Ann, who held it up to a nearby window, looking at it closely. Within the jar of golden elixir was a cone-shaped chunk of honeycomb.

"Honey from my honey?" Sally Ann asked, giving him a soft kiss in thanks.

"Best believe it," Hasil nodded, his grin ear to ear. His spirits had already been high that morning, but now he felt as if they could reach the ceiling, made buoyant by the fact that Sally Ann had given him her first pet name. It inspired him to come up with his own for her, which he kept secret, hiding it inside of his heart for a special moment. Turning, he gave her another item.

"An' bread, an' butter… an' jam, too, 'long with a couple other things. We got our own bees, up the mountain," he said, tapping the top of the honey jar in Sally Ann's hand. "Grow our own grains an' whatnot, for bread, as ya know, an got fruits and stuff now. Wanted t'bring ya some of the new ones we got sproutin."

"Butter, too?" Sally Ann asked, bringing a knife from a nearby drawer and coming around to sit at the table. She began to cut the bread into slices as she spoke. "If you guys don't use money, how do ya get that? Or did you manage to get cows somewhere up there, too?"

"Nah, no cows. Make most of our stuff on our own, but we get the occasional thing from the farm nearby. Milk's one of 'em."

"Is it here in Blackburg?"

Sitting down next to Sally Ann at the table, and making room for their food, Hasil shook his head in the negative. "Wrong side of th'mountain. We get t'Blackburg by goin' in the other direction."

"You don't say..." Sally Ann answered curiously. "You guys have allies over there?"

"In that town? Naw, it's just th'one family. One of ours married into 'em, an' only a handful of us talk to 'em anyhow, cuz the majority of my kin don't think too highly of deserters."

"Deserters? It's not like they went very far," said Sally Ann, chuckling.

Hasil responded with a shrug. "Far enough, I guess. Though, 'tween you an' me, some of m'folk seem t'look fer somethin' to hate on. Always itchin' t'make an enemy. Just happens t'be kin sometimes."

"Do you like livin' up there?" Sally Ann asked, frowning. She rose, bringing the slices to the toaster on the counter and slid them in, turning to lean against the cabinets as she waited for them to brown. "I mean… I know that's your family an' all, but… would you ever do that? Or did ya ever just wanna go somewhere else for a while? Travel… see the world?"

"Dunno. Never really gave it much thought. Some of us talk 'bout it sometimes, 'mongst ourselves. But the elders've always said life down here ain't no good."

Hasil stopped, looking over at the sound of the toaster popping, the pieces of bread showing themselves again beside Sally Ann. They, of course, didn't have one of those on the mountain, so the entire activity startled Hasil slightly, from the first disappearance of the bread to the ding of the timer that indicated they were finished toasting.

Watching her actions, he stayed quiet, thinking about everything they'd gone through until that moment in time. The fact that he was there, in an actual house, in town, and not on the mountain, made him pause. Did he like living up there? Was this preferable?

When Sally Ann returned to sit at the table, and she placed the toasted bread in front of him, he smiled, feeling his heart answer with a "yes" and when Sally Ann spoke, he felt his spirit confirm his heart's sentiment.

"Well, I don't know what much to say 'bout down here, but I do know that there must be some good up there on that mountain, and that you're proof enough of that," she said with a smile, her hand reaching over to give his a pleasant squeeze. "But enough of that for now. Toasted, not toasted? … Or both, your choice."

She handed him silverware and added her butter and jam to one slice, with honey to the other. Hasil did similar, changing the combinations to his liking. During their meal, she pointed to more of the items on the table, asking about how they were made and about life on the mountain. Hasil explained everything between bites, unpacking more of what he'd brought to show her, as time passed.

When the sun began lowering in the sky, Hasil's lips were moving up against Sally Ann's belly button. Laughing at the tickle of his moustache, she lifted the book she was reading to him, gazing beneath to shoot him a look and shake her head. "Trying to concentrate here!" she pretended to scold with a low growl.

"Sorry," Hasil replied, pulling the edge of her shirt back where he'd found it, and giving her puppy dog eyes long enough for her to lower her book and begin reading again. She closed her eyes when she felt whiskers against her again, and this time, simply bit the corner of her bottom lip in silence. Lowering the open book to her chest, she let the corner of her mouth rise to a smile, and stifled the giggles brought forth by the continued tickling. Hasil's eyes rose to find her smile, and he welcomed the chance to press onward, inching slowly higher.

He didn't get very far, however, before her stomach growled.

"Oh, hush up, you," he laughed, directing his words to her stomach. "Cantcha see I'm busy here?"

"A girl's gotta eat, Hasil," she said, making him groan and look up. Sally Ann was sitting bed, her back against pillows, with Hasil facing her, his arm across the width of her hips as he leaned on his left elbow. The position had allowed him to rest his head against her stomach while she'd, at his request, read one of her favorite books to him.

"About four now," he said, looking at his watch and back at her.

"And my body's always had perfect timing," she teased, sticking her tongue out at him. Leaning forward, he left the soft peck of a kiss against the tip, making her scrunch up her nose.

"Perfect for interruptin' stuff," Hasil said with a pout.

"My reading, you mean?" Sally Ann asked, an eyebrow rising.

"'Course. We were just gettin' to the good part, weren't we?" was his innocent response.

"Food is the good part, Hasil," a smirking Sally Ann said. "…or will be."

Getting out of bed, she held out a hand for him, which he took, following her out of the room. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he walked her into the kitchen, his chin on her shoulder.

"What we got in mind?" he asked.

At the question, Sally Ann looked around at the piles of food she'd left on the kitchen counter. After breakfast, she'd found her mind brimming with meal ideas so, with Hasil's help, she'd combined his food with what she'd brought with her, categorizing them by possible meals for the rest of the weekend.

Despite having learned most of what she knew about cooking from her brother, for the past few years, she'd become the resident chef at home, cooking dinner on the days she got off early from work. Nevertheless, she discovered she came to look forward to the structure of cooking every night, having come to enjoy the relaxation that came with the activity. It was during that silence that she often came up with her best ideas. She hoped Hasil would enjoy the latest one.

"It's a secret," she answered, and turned her head to press her cheek against his.

"Can I help?"

"Not if ya wanna be surprised. Though, if you're feelin' up to it, think you could find some flowers to put on the table?"

"On it, m'lady," Hasil said, coming around to kiss Sally Ann's hand with flourish. Lifting it, she smiled and brought him close for a parting kiss before watching him dash from the door.

Hasil spent an hour trekking through the parcels of land surrounding the house. From what he could tell, there was at least five acres, if not more, with an assortment of flowers he could choose from. He chose the prettiest ones of each bunch, fueled at times by the color of Sally Ann's eyes, the color of her jewelry, or the current shade of her nails.

Going over the events from the day, Hasil lost himself in his thoughts as he walked, remembering the way the way she'd wiggled her toes at him earlier that day, making him ask where the color on her fingernails had come from:

Reaching for a tiny bottle from her purse, she'd handed it to him, calling it "fingernail polish." But "polish" meant something else on the mountain, in Hasil's case, being associated with the treatment he'd carryout on the stones or wood he'd used for his carvings. And, as with their hair, the womenfolk there didn't usually bother doing much of anything at all with their nails.

Prompted by the look of confusion on his face, Sally Ann demonstrated how the bottle's top was removed and how she re-applied the polish to one of her fingernails. Watching her from a distance, Hasil found the smooth nailbed of her toes, tracing the fullness of each with his fingers.

"Do ya put that on ya toes, too?" he'd asked.

"Sometimes. Mainly when wearin' shoes that'll show my toes, though. Why?"

"They look lonely," Hasil said, smiling. Cupping his hands forward, he caught the polish when Sally Ann tossed the bottle over. "Can I make 'em match your fingers?"

Surprised, Sally Ann nodded with a grin, saying, "Sure, if ya want to."

Kissing against her knee, he'd found his way to her toes and they shifted positions until he was able to finish all ten toes. The labor was a painstaking one that Hasil purposely made harder than it needed to be, but everything, he felt, had to be perfect, just as she was. So each toe was done slowly, Hasil handling the act as if he was a child who'd be gifted with his first coloring book and was determined to show how well he could keep within the lines.

When he was done, he blew on them softly as she'd shown him, making sure they didn't smudge and only looked up when he heard the sound of her laugh.

"No need to make it perfect, Hasil. I'm not Mona Lisa."

"Good, cuz I don't know no Monas," Hasil smiled, turning to breathe against her toes again.

Laughing, Sally Ann took a moment to find an image of the painting on her phone. Leaning over, she showed him. "Famous painting made a long time ago. Now they have it protected in a place called the Lourve Museum. It's worth a lotta money."

"Dunno why. Don't look so special t'me."

"Seems to be 'bout age, rarity and technique, though. It took a long time for them to paint those. Sometimes years. But there's a lot of artwork like that around in galleries and museums," Sally Ann responded, scrolling through a few more pictures. She showed him the portrait of a woman. "Like this one. Was made by someone named Picasso. Lots of shapes, compared to the other. But each piece of art's got somethin' that makes it special."

"That one expensive, too?"

"Very."

"Strange thing, that," Hasil said, becoming silent and pensive. He could understand a liking for the colors but couldn't understand the appeal, preferring the other image she'd shown him instead. And, of course, he thought, the masterpiece in front of him, to that. "Your smile's prettier than hers, ya know."

"Whose?"

"The second picture, 'specially," he answered with a laugh. "But I mean the first one. Mona."

"Not pretty enough t'be worth almost 800 million dollars," Sally Ann said, grinning. "Or worth taking years to paint."

"Years ain't no thing. I got lots of 'em t'spare."

"You gonna paint me, Hasil?"

"Maybe."

"Do you guys paint stuff like that where you live?" Sally Ann asked, genuinely curious about the direction the conversation was taking.

"Nah. Not long an' and involved like all that. Just gotta flair fo' tattooin', as ya can see," Hasil responded with a wink, looking down at the dark markings covering his arms. "Which only takes a few minutes or hours at a time. But I'm happy t'make an exception an' learn to fer ya."

"Ain't gotta do that for me, Hasil."

"I know. But when I'm done, it'll be priceless. Only one of its kind. Just like you," Hasil smiled, coming closer until the two were little more than kisses and warm fingers.

By the time they surfaced for air, neither cared whether or not the polish had smudged.

Blood warm from his memories, this time, however, Hasil was coming up for air alone, coming back to the present to find himself surrounded by trees and in a clearing. The smooth, reflective surface of a swimming hole was ahead of him, audibly capped with the soft trickle of a rock-lined waterfall against the far edge. Looking back through the clearing, he could see the house a little ways away in the distance, and made note of his beginning the walk back.

Closer to home, Hasil could both smell and hear the little house before fully arriving. The scent on the air caused his stomach to grumble and made him thankful all over again for Sally Ann's talents. But, bouquet of flowers in hand, he couldn't help looking around and wondering where the sounds were coming from.

Coming up to the right side of the house, he stood next to the swing he'd discovered on his way out. Just above the swing's seating area was a window, which was now open, allowing the sounds of running water and moving dishes to be heard. The unfamiliar voice, now accompanied by faint music, came from the same area.

Walking around to the front door, he came in, moving closer to the kitchen. From here, the music behind the voice was louder as it sang, and he could now begin to decipher the lyrics being expressed. He dipped his head into the room, peeking around.

Following the volume, Hasil found said music coming from Sally Ann's phone, situated on a nearby window sill opposite him. She bobbed her head, moving her hands as she moved around the kitchen, a bounce in her step. Lip-synching the lyrics, at some points, her actions were so dramatic, that it seemed like she was performing for an audience. Leaning against the side of the doorway, Hasil watched her, mesmerized by her as she continued to face the kitchen counter, her back to him.

He bit his lip with a smile when he heard her voice emerge, singing along, the sound of her reminding him of home and, most specifically, the tinkling of the wind chimes he'd made and put at the door of his house up the mountain. Listening further to the lyrics, he immediately felt the desire to laugh follow.

Can't you see I want you by the way I push you away?
Yeah, don't judge me tomorrow by the way I'm acting today

Amused, he crossed his arms and leaned against the edge of the door. So that was it, he thought, continuing to listen, to find that when the music rose in volume, so did Sally Ann's voice. She'd stopped moving now, her hands against the counter as she sang, her voice full of emotion.

When everything I do
Is only to get tangled up in you.

Hasil had never been one for doing much dancing, even during the parties his family would hold. Then again, unless you caught them at the right time, none of the Farrell, or the Shay, or even the Mcgintuk subgroups of the clan were really big on it, preferring sparring or the expressions of desire to dancing as an entire group. But even in smaller groups or individually, more often than not, Hasil had been more of the observer than anything, always on the outside looking in. And with his upbringing making him feel as if he were the culmination of many members of his kin within one whole, it felt natural to him to live vicariously through his relatives' actions, observing their public displays of affection - the way the menfolk would clap each other on the back at the end of their roughhousing or the way some of the elders would dance around the fire, holding hands with the youngest of the family.

But this was a little different, now. This time, Hasil had to fight to stop himself from joining in on the dance, and becoming one with Sally Ann in the midst of her revelry. As reserved as Sally Ann had always been during their earlier meetings, they only just now becoming more comfortable with and around each other, so he'd never seen her dance or sing and wasn't quite sure how she felt about doing either in the presence of others.

He'd made a habit of observing her and gauging her reactions, wanting to come to know everything possible about her in an effort to please and be the best he could for her. Yet at times, even now, he felt as if he had to move slowly, and tread carefully so as not to startle her and make her run from him. As if some parts of her were still held back behind a wall she was reluctant to bring down. Hasil knew the feeling all too well himself, so he gave her space and time, but during some moments, he still felt as if the two were in a forest, and he were simply the noisy, reckless bird whom, at any moment, could snap a twig and disturb the glorious sight before him, making the loveliness of her doe-eyes leave his life forever.

So, not wanting to startle her, Hasil gave her back her privacy and begrudgingly retreated back to the main area of the house, dividing up his bouquet. Inspired by the scent some of them released, he'd brought back enough flowers to fill more than one vase, having seen a few throughout the house earlier.

"Sally Ann?" he called, when the music finished.

"In here!" she answered from the kitchen.

The segmented groups of flowers between his fingers, he came in, holding them up with a smile. "Hope it's okay I gotcha more than enough. Liked the smell of 'em an' thought we could put 'em in other places of the house, too."

"Aww, Hasil, thank you! That's a lovely idea," Sally Ann said, cheerfully taking one of the bunches. "Can you get the other vases for me, please?"

Hasil obliged, returning with four attached to his fingers. Sitting each on the counter near the sink, he watched Sally Ann cut and arrange the flowers, putting them in their vases, and when finished, she turned, rising to her toes to kiss his nose.

"All set," she announced, placing one vase in the center of the kitchen table. Handing two to Hasil, she took the last and beckoned him ahead. "You get to choose where the others go."

Thinking of where the two would likely spend the most of their time that weekend, Hasil chose the main sitting area, bedroom, and, intrigued by the light coming in through the window there, the bathroom counter. "Whatcha think?" he asked, finally, turning to her again in the kitchen.

"I love them. And the colors! You've sucha good eye…"

"I had the great inspiration," he answered, his finger lovingly grazing a short way down her jaw and making Sally Ann smile again with a blush. She turned to the sink, finishing the last of the pots she was washing.

"Is that so?"

"Mmmhm," answered Hasil, moving up to hug her from behind again. He adored the action, encouraged to do so by the way he could feel his heartbeat meet with and match her own, both of their hearts then becoming mere inches away from each other. The strength of that connection made him close his eyes, and he continued, releasing a soft murmur into her shoulder. "And to answer your question, no. Good to know, tho. I'll keep it in mind for later."

Tilting her head, confusion crossed Sally Ann's features. "Hmm? Whatcha mean?"

"The song," Hasil said, eyes looking to her phone and back again. He continued with a sheepish smile, "Hadn't the slightest idea that you were turnin' me down fer dates because ya liked me so much."

"Oh…" she answered, looking up as she thought back to the last song she'd listened to before he'd arrived. She could see their reflections in the window above the sink. Hasil could, too, and peering at their image in the nearly transparent surface, he locked eyes with her, making a blush spread beneath her skin as her eyes widened. Lost in her world of music, she hadn't known he'd been listening, and had assumed he'd been out, still looking for flowers at the time.

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean no harm in it. An' I didn't wanna bother ya, but I didn't mean to intrude on your privacy, either."

"Oh no, it's okay," Sally Ann said, shaking her head. "I'm honestly sorrier for your ears than anythin'."

"Nonsense. Yer voice is as pretty as you are," Hasil said, and kissed her cheek. The growing warmth of her skin made him whimper and wrap his arms around her waist. Moving closer until his cheek was against hers, he closed his eyes again. "'sides, I liked th'part near th'end, cuz you are the girl sweepin' me off my feet," he whispered. Moving away, he let his lips travel from her shoulder to her neck, and picked her up in his arms. "'Bout time I repaid the favor, eh?"

With a small yelp, Sally Ann's arms moved to hold onto his neck. Pretending to be annoyed, she called out to him with a sigh, looking to make sure that though the oven being on, she'd turned off the eyes on the stove, "But… the food, Hasil… why must you always forget about the food?"

"Cuz you're much, much tastier, woman."

The statement caught Sally Ann so off guard that she was all together speechless, overwhelmed with laughter. "Not hardly…" she sputtered out between chuckles as Hasil carried her out to the couch.

"Betcha I could live th'rest of my life off your love alone."

Making good on his word, Hasil tested his theory, and was rather successful until the oven's timer sounded.

Giving in, Hasil eventually released Sally Ann that night, allowing her to get their meal out of the oven. By the time she had everything on plates, Hasil had candles lit in the living room, with two on either side of the flower vase and others strategically placed. Seeing his handiwork, Sally Ann smiled at the change in plans and turned off the light in the kitchen.

They ate on the floor for dinner, sitting with their backs against the foot of the couch. All around them were candles, flames creating dancing, shadowy figures along the walls.

"Whatcha call this, Sally Ann?" Hasil asked between chews, after a soft mmm of pleasure. "...Besides tastier than th'right end of a squirrel?"

"Cottage... like another name for a house? ...Pie," Sally Ann said, still giggling at Hasil's phrasing. She pointed around, indicating reference to the house in general. "Well, better known as Shepherd's Pie, too. Mainly used the yummy veggies ya brought to make it. You like it?"

"An' then some," he said, his nod appreciative. "Best thing I've had on the mountain and off it. But… who or what'sa shepherd?"

"Not a name in this case. A job. They take care of sheep."

"That sounds like the pie's for them, though," he said, looking over. "Does that make me a shepherd, too?"

"Notta sheep in sight," she said with a laugh. "But we also use the word to just mean leadin' someone or somethin' somewhere, too…. So… maybe," she continued thoughtfully, with a small shrug.

"Hmm," mulled Hasil, thinking over the term. "Well, speakin' of such, ya ever traveled round these parts. On the land?"

"Not really. Mainly stuck to the parts nearest the house. Why?"

"Found a pretty spot that I think you'll like. 'bout five minutes away, an' I bet it's pretty at night." Looking through the window, Hasil could already see moonlight outside. Sally Ann's eyes followed his toward the window.

"Wanna go?" she whispered, looking over with a smile.

"Thought you'd never ask," Hasil answered happily.

"I got the dishes, then and you get the candles," she said, reaching for his plate. She took them in the kitchen and put them in the sink, finding her keys and returning to a dark room now lit only by the moon. Hands out, she reached for Hasil. He caught her in the darkness and held her close, his lips finding hers with the ease of two magnets sliding together.

"Ready?" came his words, breath warm against her lips.

"Ready," Sally Ann said, her fingers entwining with his. Once outside, she handed him the keys, moving forward a little ways, through the grass, and toward the area he'd pointed out for her.

As she made her way toward the trees, the sight of her held Hasil in place, breathlessly grounding him within thoughts revisiting what he'd told her about his relative who lived down the mountain. He thought of the dangers of leaving his family and the response that would come with it. And of what it was like to be together, having a meal in a house it felt like the most natural thing in the world to share with her. Maybe… just maybe, it was she that was the shepherd of the two, leading him to a freedom he hadn't known he'd wanted until he'd had his first taste of it.

He could feel it shift and grow inside of him – some euphorically thick and immovable feeling of finality… a mixture of surprise and relief from the settling of options, the making of decisions, the picking of choices, that he couldn't adequately put into words and wouldn't be able to budge or remove, even if he tried… though, if nothing else, he knew full well, that he didn't now, nor would he ever, want to.

The words he'd once said to Asa, somehow already so sure of their truth at the time, echoed through his head then:

They always told me the world down there was no good.
They'd gone and they'd lost everything that makes life worth living, but me and you? We know that ain't all true."

Sally Ann turned and softly called for him in the stillness of the night, then, her hand, as she'd done earlier, reaching out to him like a lifeline.
Breathing again, he moved and caught her hand in his, meeting the bright glow of her eyes with his own, and felt he finally understood what it was that made his cousins risk it all to leave.

"Would you ever do that?" she'd asked him that morning.

And shivering against the night air, he knew now, that when it came to Sally Ann, the answer was again, yes.
For her, he'd risk it all, and with the same surety he'd had when speaking those words to Asa, he knew, in the end, it'd all be worth it.

Song lyric credit: Skye Sweetnam, "Tangled Up in Me"
A/N: ...because I loved the Sasil food scene last episode, lol. This is a continuation of day no. 1 of their weekend.
Thank you for the reviews and, again, your patience! You guys are always so kind :)
Disclaimer: I don't own the canon characters. Everything pre-owned belongs to its owner(s). No copyright infringement intended.