I woke up around two thirty in the morning to find Teddy with his arms still around me, my hair under his head, his leg between mine. I disentangled myself from him as quietly as I could, grabbed my sleep shirt from the tangled bedclothes, covered him so he wouldn't get cold, and went to the bathroom.

I noticed that there was a door to the outside from the bathroom, too, to a little protected nook of sorts, with an overhead cone heater and blankets and everything. I couldn't resist. I ran back and grabbed a pair of socks and headed outside.

The cold shocked me, but with the wind barrier, it actually wasn't too bad, especially once the overhead heater warmed up. I wrapped myself up in a blanket and sat down on the padded bench. Even in the middle of the night, the city was lit up like a Christmas tree. It really did never sleep. I sat there for a long time, ruminating on all that my life had become, and all that it could become. I had to count myself one of the luckiest people in the entire world; everything I could ever hope for was at my fingertips. And all of it was wrapped up in the form of one person. Kind of scary to think about. I got up, with the blanket still wrapped around me, and went to stand at the railing, leaning out to look at the dark water. It was kind of hypnotic, coupled with the rocking motion of the boat.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Fuck!" It was Teddy. "You scared the crap out of me! You should put a bell around your neck or something, Jesus!"

"Well, you scared me, too!" he responded. "I woke up and you were gone, and I couldn't find you anywhere. I didn't see the little door leading out here the first time I checked the bathroom, so I thought I checked the whole boat. I thought you'd fallen overboard. I was about to go alert the captain, honestly!" He stamped his feet.

"What the fuck are you doing out here, anyway? It's freezing!" He wasn't wearing a shirt, so he was probably pretty cold. He looked around and grabbed a blanket, huddling under the heater.

"Yeah, but look how beautiful it is," I exclaimed from my place at the railing. "Have you ever seen anything so gorgeous?"

"It looks just as gorgeous from inside," he said with a smile, pulling his feet up onto the bench.

"Oh, come on, come here for a sec, you won't die," I encouraged. "Bring your blanket, it's not so bad. You can feel the heater, I promise."

He came to stand next to me, wrapped in his blanket. "It's still pretty cold," he commented.

"Pussy," I remarked.

He turned to me. "I don't understand this constant need to impugn my manhood by comparing me to felines," he remarked. "You hurt my feelings terribly, I want you to know."

"Oh, poor you," I commiserated. "Tell you what." I flipped my blanket off my back and gave him a come hither nod. "Get behind me and wrap both blankets around us. You can use me to warm your front. I'm warmer than a fucking blanket anyway."

He got behind me and wrapped the blankets around both of us. I grabbed the ends of the blankets and pulled them together. It was snug, but we were used to snug, and it was bearable for him this way, with the heater at his back and me in front of him. He put his arms around my middle and put his chin on my shoulder.

"I guess it's not so bad," he admitted. He unbuttoned a middle button on my shirt and slid his hands inside, to rest directly on my skin. "Especially if I can do this, mmm."

I leaned back into him. "I'm a perfectly content and happy person," I said softly. I didn't know if he'd heard me until I felt his arms tighten around me.

"Good," he said. "Good." He rubbed his hands meditatively on my skin, and I enjoyed the contact, skin tingling where he touched me.

He sighed into my ear, his warm breath making a startling contrast to the cold around me.

"I love you," he whispered into my ear, dropping a soft kiss on my ear lobe.

His arms wrapped completely around my waist, hugging me to him, and I could feel all of him against my back, which excited me, driving all thoughts out of my mind but him, of the feel of him, of having him touch me, of having him inside me.

He moved one of his hands down to touch me, sliding his hand slowly down my stomach. When had he undone all of my buttons? I moved against his hand, so he could feel how wet I was.

He let out a sigh when he felt me, rubbing his fingers on me, letting them slip inside.

"That's what you do to me, just holding me," I whispered to him. "Just telling me you love me does that to me."

He rubbed the hot length of himself against my back. "You do this to me, just standing here, just letting me hold you," he said. "I can get hard just thinking about you," he said into my ear.

He put his hands on my breasts, just lightly, moaning into my ear as he did, and his touch made me tremble.

He grasped them, more firmly, while entering me from behind, bending me over the railing a little. He let out an explosive breath. "Oh god, so warm, you're so warm," he gasped. For long moments there was just his bellows breathing in my ear. He moved one hand back between my legs, and his touch made me jump, his fingers slipping over my center. I bent farther over the railing, and he grabbed me with his other hand, holding me around my waist.

He came so quickly, fingers digging into my hip. I could feel it, spreading inside me in delicious counterpoint to the frigid outdoor temperature, while I was still bent over the railing. There was just the one, initial push, and he was finished. He slowly pulled me back and turned me around.

Wordlessly he placed a hand behind my knees, picking me up. With one arm still holding me, he turned off the heater and threw the blankets on the bench. He opened the door, closed it behind us, carried me to the bed, and gently placed me on it. He then lay down beside me, covered us both up, turned to me, and said, "God, I'm so, so sorry."

"What?" I asked him, astonished.

"What just happened out there," he said softly. "We were having this fantastic romantic moment, then I bend you over a rail and fuck you from behind like an animal for about two seconds, take my pleasure, finish with you and practically drop you in the river." He kissed me. "I feel terrible. I really am so, so sorry." He looked at me. "Are you upset? Can I do anything to fix it?"

I looked at him. "This is all in your head." I scooted closer and put my arms around him. "We did have a fantastic romantic moment. Then we had what's known as a quickie. We fucked. I came, then you came. The end. Done. Then you picked me up and we came in." I kissed him.

"Really?" He looked carefully at me. "You were ready? You came?"

"As soon as you touched me with your hand," I told him. "And even if I didn't, I wouldn't have cared. I don't have to have an orgasm every single time we have sex, or even every single time you do."

"Really?" he said again. "I kind of thought that it was supposed to be that way, that only assholes didn't make sure that the women didn't come too, or at least try."

"Well, first of all, it's the new millennium, shouldn't everyone be responsible for her own orgasm by now?" I asked with a smile. "And besides, I usually have two or three, every time we're together, so I must be way ahead of you. I think it's okay if I miss one or two once in a while, don't you?" I laughed. I kissed him, long and slow.

"You're so, so cute and sweet and good to me," I said. "I am the luckiest girl in the whole world to have you love me. I wake up and think that every single day, okay?" I nodded at him. "Okay?"

He looked at me. "Okay," he said, his relief evident. He smiled. "Okay. Good."

"And I pretty much come every time you even look at me," I said, "as you yourself have pointed out. So if you want to grab me for a quick fuck and I happen to miss one, I totally won't hold it against you, I promise, scout's honor," I said, holding up two fingers. "You know what that means?"

He nodded, smiling. "Yes, I know what that means, funny face," he said, rubbing noses with me. "God, I love you so fucking much, you know that?" he said laughing and grabbing me, holding me so tightly I couldn't breathe.

"Teddy, too tight, too tight," I gasped.

"No such thing," he responded, though he did loosen up a little.

"And," I continued, running my fingers through his hair, "I actually find it very exciting when you just grab me for a quick fuck sometimes, with no warning, and it usually makes me come anyway, so don't worry about it." I leaned in and kissed him. "I'm always 'up for it', as you English folk like to say." I said with a smile. "I guess that makes me kind of a slutty girl."

He laughed, his particularly tickled laugh. "I suppose that could be considered true, in a parallel universe somewhere, if you weren't so bloody pure and wholesome and good and true," he said. "No one, and I mean no one, could ever look at you, even in your sexiest garters and knickers and such, and use the word 'slutty', so sorry," he kissed me back, making happy "mmm" sounds as he did. "You are bunny rabbits and butterflies and flowers, ice cream cones and kittens and rainbows and hummingbirds," he said, smiling at me and pushing my hair behind my ears.

I put my chin on his chest. "I don't understand. If you see me like that, how in the world can you see me as 'hot' and 'sexy as hell' and all that other stuff? How can you get off as quickly and as often as you do?"

He considered, twirling my hair. "I don't know, I just can, and do. It used to be that in order for me to consider someone sexy, she had to be a bit dirty, you know? Then I met you, and that sort of went away. Now, to me, sexy is clean, and dirty is just gross, I guess. Does that make any sense at all?"

I looked at him, barely able to make out his eyes in the reflections of the fairy lights from the boat deck. "I guess so. So the women who used to turn you on, the slutty women, the women with the loads of make up, with the tongue piercings and the really filthy mouths and all that, that you used to like when you were younger...?"

"Don't do a thing for me," he finished. "And how do you know what I used to like when I was younger?" He nudged my shoulder.

"I have my sources," I smiled slyly.

His eyes widened. "What the hell does that mean? Who on earth have you been talking to? Hmm?"

I rolled off him and faced away, but he came up behind me and started touching me all over, not tickling me, exactly, but messing with me, turning me back to face him, holding me very closely, kissing me, asking me in between each kiss who, who, who I'd been talking to?

"Okay, okay! Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, when I spent the night with him, he gave me a very detailed picture of what you guys used to do when you went on tour when you were younger." I finally said, caving in.

"Ronan's mouth ought to be a national monument, it's so huge," Teddy sighed with a smile.

"Please don't get upset with him," I begged. "He'll feel terrible, and it's like taking candy from a baby, getting information from him, you know that. We were just talking, I wasn't trying to pick his brain or anything. Please?"

"No, it's fine, it's all in the past, anyway," he said. "You know that, right?" He looked carefully at me. "You understand that none of that means anything to me anymore?"

I nodded. "Yes." I covered my mouth as I yawned enormously.

"You're so tired," he said. He covered me, up to my shoulders. "Come on, let's sleep. It's so lovely, falling asleep on a boat, like being rocked in a giant chair. I'll hold you and you hold me, and we'll have a wonderful night. What's left of it, anyway. Please kiss me like you love me more than anything."

"No problem," I responded in a sleepy whisper as I complied.

"Now put your leg over me," he murmured. "Yes, just like that, perfect. And I'll put my hand right at the bottom of your back, right on these beautiful, perfect dimples that I love so much, and my other arm will go right where it fits, just here under your neck," he whispered, "so I can stroke your hair, and you put your arm under mine, so you can hold my shoulder..." his voice drifted off into soft exhalations against my ear, and I fell asleep in as close to a state of happy perfection as I've ever felt in my life.

I woke up again, later, and turned toward Teddy, who was facing away from me. I curled toward the bulwark of his back, reaching toward him, wrapping my arm around his middle, tucking my knees behind his, pulling myself as tightly against him as I could. I was just falling back asleep when I felt his hands close over mine, and he rolled over to face me.

"You all right?" he asked, half asleep.

"Yeah, sorry to wake you," I whispered apologetically. "I just wanted to be closer."

No, no, don't be sorry," he insisted, holding me, rubbing his cheek against mine. "Always wake me up if you want me to hold you, I'll always want to, okay, hmm?" He gave me a gentle shake. "Always. Who knows, I might even throw you a quick fuck," he chuckled. He pulled me close, breathing in the scent of my hair. "Good night, my Birdie, my forever girl," he whispered.

We slept until the smell of coffee lured me up to consciousness. I woke him up, and we had a wonderful shower, followed by a huge breakfast. Then we put on our warmest clothes, with Teddy donning yet another sweater made by me ("I never want to wear anything else," he declared with a grin as he pulled it over his head. "I feel like you're hugging me all day long."), and we braved the bitter cold and gale force winds to enjoy the glorious morning from the deck. We braided each other's hair, like girls at a slumber party, before we went out, and wrapped up in a blanket under the heater to look at Manhattan. Even the captain mentioned how clear and beautiful the morning was, how he'd take the freezing temperatures and clear skies over snow and sleet any day.

The voyage ended way too soon for me, and we disembarked and caught a cab back to the Plaza. The lovely break from our already wonderful holiday had come to an end.