After their delectable shower, Gil had donned on his faded blue jeans, a navy polo shirt and his training shoes dispensing with the customary socks and had run down to the local boulangerie for pains au chocolat and Sara's beloved brioche before the bakery shut for the day.

He had promptly returned not only laden with the promised friandises but also Friday's copy of USA TODAY and some French magazines for Sara. Finding the clothes they had discarded the previous night still on the doorstep certainly was a bonus. The fact that there was a note attached to it not so much. That the note was written in bad, quite uncomplimentary English made it even worse.

Gil tossed the papers and the note on the bed to Sara and quickly went to the kitchen to prepare a breakfast tray for them to share in bed. He returned to hear her resounding incredulous laughter fill the room. "We'll never live this down," she said. "I'm just hoping he's not one of your students."

The look Gil cast her was one of pure horror. They had chosen to live near the Sorbonne because it had an academic, bohemian feel to it after all. "Nooo. God, that's all I need."

Gil pored over the papers as he ate and Sara was dozing while listening to France Bleue on the radio when she suddenly opened her eyes, turning her head toward Gil. "You know tomorrow, to celebrate Hank's return we could take him on a picnic. I was thinking we could take a walk in the Bois de Vincennes with him. I hear there's a lot of wildlife. You both should feel right at home there."

Gil was propped up on his elbow and he looked up from the article about a shooting in Wyoming he was half-way reading. He smiled at her gentle jibe and removed the reading glasses that were resting on the tip of his nose. "He'd like that." He furrowed his brow, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Do you think he's going to recognise us?"

Sara puffed out with laughter. "Silly."

Gil shrugged and reached across to tap her nose playfully. Sara pulled back and Gil surged, stretching over her and trapping her under him.

And that's pretty much how they spent the rest of their Sunday; laughing in bed and dropping crumbs amidst unfinished crosswords and creased sheets, Sara never quite finding a way to tell him about the graveyard shift's problems in Vegas.

The Bois de Vincennes was everything a man and his dog could dream of but it was busy so Gil and Sara decided to go off away from the crowds and the children. They soon found an isolated clearing and set everything down for their picnic. Most importantly, the set the beast free.

"Something's bothering you Sara. I can tell," Gil said casually glancing toward Sara as he munched on the last of his baguette sandwich.

She stopped mid-chew. "What makes you say that?"

He shrugged. "Call it a hunch?"

Sara finished swallowing her food and sighed. "Quasimodo had one of those and look where that got him."

"He was in love with Esmeralda but he couldn't have her."

Sara understood the double-entendre and knew he was trying to cheer her. She fixed her gaze on Hank foraging in the distance. It would be easier to say what she had to say if she didn't have to look at him and see his reaction. "I got a call from Ecklie."

Gil carried on munching unhurriedly as he processed the information. If it was bad or urgent, she'd have told me straightaway. Then he slowly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "When? Yesterday? The cleaning, that was him?"

Sara turned and looked at him. The wary sadness in his gaze twisted her stomach and she put down the tomato she had been eating. She gave him a slow nod of the head in reply.

"Do you need to go back? Testify on an old case?" he asked running his hands over his face. "I'll come with you."

"No." It was barely a whisper but it silenced him. Sara took both his hands in hers, stilling them. "He's been trying and unable to reach you so he tried me. Grave's short staffed again and…" She then relayed the rest of the conversation.

He remained flabbergasted for a moment. "You're doing this for me?"

"No." Sara shook her head and brushed her finger over his bearded cheek, smiling. "No. I think maybe I'm doing this for me. I think…I need to prove to myself that I can still do it."

Sara didn't need to explain; he knew exactly what she meant. "You can do it," he said with conviction.

Sara was looking down, sitting on the blanket, her legs crossed Indian-style and Gil shifted his position so he was facing her. He wrapped his legs around her and took her hands in his. She was about to say something else when he placed his finger on her lips.

"I've only one condition, Sara." His smile was tentative, a little shy even and he looked down, watching as he fiddled nervously with the band on her ring finger. "That you don't leave before your birthday." He looked up and pinched his lips when he saw she had tears in her eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat and smiled broadly. "I was thinking…I have a week off mid-term at the end of October. So if you're not back by then, I could always…"

Sara leaned across him and cut him off with a kiss. "You're the best husband a girl could ever dream of catching."

Gil chuckled smugly and grinned cheekily. "I am, aren't I?" He paused and his smile turned wistful. "I will miss you though."

Sara didn't reply but nodded, lost in the intensity of his gaze. He leaned across and kissed her softly on the lips.

"C'est votre chien? Cette bête?" The tone was curt and angry startling both Gil and Sara. What had Hank been up to now? They snapped their heads apart and up at the same time and looked at the woman with amazement, matching puzzled brow lifted in enquiry.

Sara brought her hand up to shield her eyes, squinting up at the woman who had spoken. Her gaze wandered from the woman's immaculately made-up face to her perfectly French-manicured hand daintily holding a pink leather leash clipped to the collar of a very tall white and clearly pampered French poodle. Pooch and mistress were wearing matching summer coats.

Gil began to openly chuckle at the situation and Sara nudged him in the shoulder. Her gaze flicked from the woman and her dog to Hank and she tried very hard to repress her giggles but couldn't help the grin tugging at her mouth. Who's been a bad boy now, huh?

The woman's other hand was forcefully holding Hank by his collar. He was obediently sat on his hind legs by her feet, his tail wagging wildly against the grass. He was panting heavily and holding his head to the side. The eyes and folds around his mouth were drooping more than usual as though he was deliberately trying to look utterly repentant, seemingly apologising for whatever mischief he had created.

Wide-eyed, Sara looked at Hank and shook her head despairingly. He whimpered, truly contrite at his overzealousness. She sighed and flashed a beautiful grin at the woman. "Je m'excuse, madame, mais oui, c'est…notre chien. Il s'appelle Hank." After explaining that he was totally harmless and a generally well-behaved dog, she went on to apologise for the fact that they chose not to keep him on a leash as he had spent the last few weeks confined in a small cage while in quarantine.

The lady made a sad 'Ooohhh' sound and bent down to give Hank an affectionate rub behind the ears. Gil got up, smiling and clipped the leash back onto Hank's collar, promising to keep him in check. "Merci, madame. On va mieux le surveiller."

The woman smiled and dipped her head in acknowledgement, leaving. Her poodle gave Hank one final regretful glance and begrudgingly followed.

Gil looked at Hank and frowned. "She was rather eye-catching, wasn't she?" he asked the boxer. "Come on, give us your paw." The dog lifted his paw obediently and placed it into Gil's extended hand. "Good boy," Gil praised, stooping down to give the dog a good all over rub.

"Come on, you two," Sara said getting up and gathering their belongings and the blanket. "Let's go for a walk."

Gil smiled "Bonne idée" and helped her tidy up. When they finished, he wrapped his right arm around her shoulders, his left one holding on to Hank's leash and he squeezed her toward him playfully, planting a kiss on her temple. "Let's go off the beaten track. Keep him away from temptation," he chuckled. He bent down to unclip the leash with a wink toward Hank. "Behave. No pursuing of the ladies or else. Understood?"

Hank replied with a joyous bark and a grateful lick of Gil's hand. Sara laughed. "Come on. Off you go. Explore."

Hank didn't need to be told twice. He soon wandered off down the narrow track to give chase to a reckless rabbit but soon stopped to sniff a whole new set of foreign smells. This was dog heaven. Every so often, he would come bounding back to make sure Gil and Sara were still following, give them a happy bark and run back on ahead gleefully.

Gil and Sara were just content to stroll along, hand in hand. They were both silent, lost in their own musings.

"Where does he get all his energy from?" Gil asked suddenly as he watched Hank once more leap out of the undergrowth. He chuckled out loud. "He reminds me of that Capuchin monkey in Sirena, you remember?" Sara turned her head toward him and nodded with a smile. "He'd scramble down from the tallest branch at the speed of light, nick whatever food he'd spotted and climb back up so fast we could never hope to catch him."

Sara laughed but remained silent, her mind wandering back to the weeks in Costa Rica after Gil's surprised arrival. So much had happened since. Her life couldn't get better than what she had now and yet she was leaving it – leaving him again. Except this time, they both knew she would be coming back to him. She involuntary tightened her hold on his hand as they carried on walking.

Gil turned toward her and watched the shadows clouding her eyes and let out a small sigh as he squeezed her hand back affectionately. They walked on in companionable silence until they got to a fork in the track.

Gil frowned and turned his head back, left and right, scanning the area for Hank. He whistled for the dog who swiftly replied with a joyful bark and came out bounding from a bush up ahead on the track to their right. He gave a series of loud barks at Gil and Sara, circling back toward the bush, seemingly telling them to come quickly before disappearing back where he had come from.

"He's found something," Gil said. "Come on, let's go take a look." Gil took off running, tugging Sara along with him.

When they got there, Hank was clasping a small black furry animal in his jaw by the scruff of the neck.

"Hank, drop it!" Sara cried, quickly crouching down in front of the dog. He whimpered his discontent but did as he was told. "It's a kitten, Gil."

Gil kneeled down next to Sara and studied the poor creature. "It's in bad shape but it's still alive." He picked it up and gave it a good warming rub, fluffing the damp matted fur.

"How people can do that is beyond me. Abandon it like that, just to die."

Hank barked happily at his find and Sara reached over to stroke the fluffy ball that fitted perfectly in Gil's large hand. She hesitated and looked up toward her husband with wide pleading eyes, shrugging inquiringly. He smiled in understanding but kept quiet.

"We can't leave it here," she pleaded. "Either it'll die of starvation or worse, a fox'll get to it. Either way, it won't live through the night."

Gil pursed his lips meditatively but they both knew the kitten wouldn't be spending another night in the woods. "I guess he could keep Hank company while I'm working and you're away," Gil mused a little tentatively. "Do you think you can trust three males under the same roof?"

Sara stretched up and kissed his cheek softly, whispering, "Je t'aime."

A/N: A nice fluffy ending. Well, I think so, anyway. I hope you liked it. Thanks for reading. :-)