"Come on, Norm, what's the problem, man?" Stan asked as Norman rebuffed yet another beautiful young woman. "Could you at least lead em on long enough for us to woo the friends a little?"

"Sorry man, I'm just not in the mood I guess."

"Not in the mood, or has Ms. Navy SEAL gotten in your head?" Greg said with a raised eyebrow. "We're not stupid, dude. We know she's the upstairs tenant and that you were up there last night."

"So what if I was?" he answered. "She's freakin' awesome. And hot. And emotionally unavailable. Basically all y'alls dream woman."

"Man, she was next door to us at the beach, and now she's our upstairs neighbour here? That's crazy stalker shit if I've ever heard of it," Jimmy chimed in.

Norman felt himself getting angry. "Bullshit, man. She didn't even know who I was until the bartender told her last night. I'm not naïve enough to be fooled by her reaction."

"Whatever man, after that voodoo crap she pulled on you at the beach, I think you could have been fooled by any damn thing she did." Stan reminded him.

He was really frustrated now. "What good would it do? We'll only see each other maybe two more nights and then we go our separate ways," he looked down into his glass when he thought of that, before continuing, "and trust me, I'm the one walking away better off than before."

"What if she shows up nine months from now with a baby?" Greg asks.

"Impossible."

"You were careful?"

"Kinda hard for a woman to get pregnant when she's taken 3 bullets to the belly and nearly been ripped apart by a bomb."

"Jesus..." Greg had the decency to look down at the thought of the suffering the woman must have gone through. However, looking back up he laid a hand on Norman's arm. "I'm still gonna have Richard check her out."

"Do what you want. It won't prove a damn thing and for sure won't change how I feel about her."

"Which is how?"

"... I think she's probably the most badass, independent, and probably deep down fucked up human I've ever met. She's also the most sexually exciting being I've ever met..." He looked around at his friends before laughing. "She scares the living shit out of me."

"Boys, we got a dead man walkin'," Stan stood and held out his beer bottle in a salute.

            ___________________________________________

"It's going way better than we could have hoped," the big man told the little man over the phone. "Stan says Reedus has total pussy fever for her, thinks he's in love."

"Excellent. If they're sleeping together I can guarantee he'll try to see her again."

"Are you sure?"

"Norman is either a one and done or a relationship guy. There's no in between," the little man sneered.

"So, what's our next step?"

"Sit back and wait for her to crack. Once she falls for him, I'll sell her name and location to the highest bidder and Norman Reedus can finally understand what real loss feels like."

            _________________________________________

Meg sat cross legged on the sofa with the journal open in her lap while holding her second glass of Silver Oak. It was a divine wine that was so sublime that it felt weightless against her tongue. The top notes of blackberry and hoisin were complemented perfectly by the under notes of sage and nutmeg. She jotted a few notes in today's page of the journal, making sure to record the wonderful feel and smell of the warm New Orleans rain, the wine that she'd bought, and the shirts that she'd found at the vintage store.

She also took care to unfold a single sheet of paper and bring it up to her nose. The smell was fading and most likely still existing primarily in her head, but nonetheless she inhaled deeply. Laying it back down on the journal, she carefully drew a line through two more items on the list before folding it and putting it back in the journal, which she laid on the coffee table.

There was a docking station for her iPhone on the table next to the bed, and she picked up the remote to start a playlist. Feeling like something fun, she picked a Stevie Wonder compilation and the first notes of Superstition started playing and Meg leaned her head back as a warm breeze came through the open patio doors to lift her hair off her forehead. She felt the knot deep in her core beginning to loosen a little. It had formed the day she'd been restricted from active field duty, and then tightened when she'd been informed of Doug's death. But there was nothing she could do in either situation, and if there was one thing Meg had learned long ago, it was that wasting your energy on things you couldn't change was one of the dumbest things a person could do.

Being on this journey was meant to honor Doug. Meg was spreading his ashes along the route, and would lay the final bit to rest at the cabin she was buying with the life insurance money he had made her beneficiary of. It was just a bonus that it seemed to be opening up something within her, as well.

She was pouring her third glass when her phone lit up from the docking station. She walked over and saw that there was a text message from Norman. She smiled as she read the screen.

"I didn't get a better offer. Can I come in?"

"What if I did?" She typed back.

"You should have pulled the shutters if you wanted me to believe that lie."

She looked up and saw him outside the door and laughed. She waved him in while she walked to the kitchen and got another wine glass and uncorked the second bottle. The only light in the room was coming from the streetlights outside, and an under counter light from the microwave. Stevie was singing about being Overjoyed.

She patted the couch next to her and once he sat she handed him the glass. "Try this, it's amazing."

He sipped the wine and closed his eyes. It was a great wine. When he opened his eyes, she was grinning at him. "Now, take another sip, close your eyes, and hold it in your mouth."

"Why..."

"Just do it and don't ask dumb questions. You need to be open to new experiences."

Norman looked at her for a second and then did what she said. A couple of beats later he felt her mouth on his. "Swallow", she said and the second he did she slipped her tongue in his mouth and his taste buds exploded with a salty sweet coating over the fruity acidity of the wine. His eyes popped open in surprise and he saw her looking back at him. He felt her smile into his mouth and then pull back.

"Well?" She asked as she was now up on her haunches facing him, almost bouncing.

"That was amazing. What was it?"

"It was a creamy chocolate made with almond milk and Himalayan pink sea salts that I let melt on my tongue. I thought that if we kissed it would help combine the flavors just right. What'd you think?"

"I don't think I ever want to eat chocolate any other way, the rest of my life."

She sat back and looked at him with a much more serious look on her face now. Instead of saying anything else, she just continued sipping her wine.

"Hey, it wasn't a marriage proposal."

"I know, I know," she said, and took a last drink before setting her empty glass down. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with what you said, or even with having feelings... But I've spent most of my life creating a shield that keeps my feelings on the surface. It works a little like a bug zapper anytime one of the little buggers tries to burrow in."

Norman set his glass down and reached over and took her hands into his. "I can't help the fact that I really like you Meg. To say you're not like any other woman I've ever met is cliché, but it's the damn truth. I think that whatever you've been through is something very few other people could ever understand and it makes you one of the bravest and most sacrificing humans on earth. I hope at some point you're able to relax enough to feel trust again."

She smiled a smile that didn't really reach her eyes and stood up. Using the remote she changed the playlist to the ethereal Thomas Tallis Choir collection and then led Norman out onto the deck where she wrapped her arms around his neck. They swayed and danced together to the haunting music in the southerly night breeze; she rested her face on his shoulder and he buried his face in her magnolia scented hair.

Soon enough, he couldn't take it any longer and he started walking her backwards towards the door and into the house. Once she was laid back on the bed he undressed her and made love to her with his mouth, causing her to first moan, then scream his name as she writhed around. He was relentless in his attention until she finally grabbed his hair and made him stop. Norm kissed his way back up her body until their mouths met in a bold and passionate kiss, and then he pulled her to the edge of the bed and raised her freakishly long legs up until her knees were draped over his shoulders. He positioned himself at her entrance and just as he was about to ram himself home, she reached down and began rubbing her sweet spot with her middle finger. He raised his eyebrow and she smirked.

"When I come, it's gonna squeeze you so hard your balls are gonna implode," she whispered.

This time, it was him groaning her name.

            ___________________________________________

Meg woke the next morning before Norman. She rolled over and looked at his sleeping form. The lines on his face were relaxed and he looked very peaceful. She sat up and continued looking down at him. Her thoughts after last night were becoming a little complicated. He was not handsome in the normal way, but his sex appeal was off the charts. She couldn't help but wonder if part of the attraction was just how different he was than Doug in every way. Especially the sex; where Doug had been able to get the job done, he had never been comfortable with her... stronger appetites and dirty talk. Norman not only took her direction, he seemed to welcome it and the result made her feel as if she was going to crawl out of her skin with pleasure.

He was an amazing distraction and was helping keep her mind off the change in her employment status, as well as Doug's death. She also knew that it was simply delaying the inevitable. Her training at the agency had included many sessions with a psychotherapist both pre and post operations. She'd learned early on how to compartmentalize her life, work, and the traumatic events she was exposed to constantly. She had been warned of the potential of PTSD resulting in self-destructive behaviour, addictions, nightmares, and panic attacks. So far, none of those had happened because the one thing she hadn't learned how to do was pull things back out of their compartments.

Being very careful, she eased the sheet down a little until his full body was on display. His arms were well-defined and his shoulders were broad. His torso was trim and narrowed nicely into his groin, which of course led to that deliciously large appendage of his. Moving gingerly so as not to wake him up, she moved off the bed to go start the coffee. One of the things the therapist had told her that she completely agreed with was that life was made up of experiences, some lasted for a brief moment, and some lasted many years. The challenge was to wring every bit of essence out of each one and walk away with no regrets.

Once she had a full mug, she took her phone out to the balcony. When she stood a certain way, the sun backlit one of the magnolia flowers and made it look as if it was glowing. She snapped a couple of pictures and then a few of the sun glinting off a random string of gold beads hanging amongst the Spanish moss in the giant live oak. Back inside, she found the best one of each and loaded them on her Instagram account that she had started to document her journey. Well that, and to give her Mom something tangible to see that she was truly alive and okay.

"That smells amazing." Came muffled words from the bed.

"It is... truly amazing, especially with the Carolyn's in it."

"I'll give you all the money in my wallet if you bring me a mug."

"I'll give you all the money in my wallet if you get up and go pour yourself a mug... naked."

When she said that he lifted his head up and looked over to where she sat on the couch, wearing a tank top and a pair of blue hip-hugger undies.

"Why do you get to wear clothing?"

"Cause I enjoy objectifying you. Problem?" she asked as she watched the muscles in his ass bunch and release as he walked over to the coffee maker.

"Nope," he said, and then sat next to her and grabbed her phone out of her hands. "What's this?" He started looking through the pictures. "These are amazing. Did you take these?"

"Yeah, just something I started on this trip. Figured I'd replace shooting guns with shooting a camera," she chuckled.

"You need to learn how to use the hashtags so more people will see these. For instance, these you just posted, you could use New Orleans and St. Patrick's Day as hashtags." He went on until she was thoroughly educated. He then asked if he could follow her account so he could see her progress. Finally he asked if she had any other social media accounts like Twitter or Facebook.

"Ha, yeah, I can just see it now: Today I infiltrated a ring of Ukrainian arms dealers, hoping to make it home with all my organs this time! Insert smiley face or prayer hands."

"Smart ass," he said with a smirk, and she could see that the reminders of who she was sobered him a little. "But I see what you mean."

Meg finished her mug and was absently rubbing the long scar just below her collar bone, something Norman noticed she did when she was deep in thought. He got up to get a refill on his coffee and picked up his phone on the way back. Meg was still sitting, legs akimbo, one hand on her scar, and the other wrapped around her knee. Her long curly hair was hanging down, shielding her face, all but her jaw. The image, with the tousled bed in the background was erotic and yet poignant, so he snapped a couple of shots. It would be perfect in black and white.

"You want to help me break the internet?" he asked and showed her the photo.

"That's a great shot, but you can't put that on your Instagram."

"Why not," he asked. "Your face doesn't show and from this angle you can't make out the SEALS tattoo. No one will ever figure out it's you."

"Why would you even want to do that? You're going to break a billion hearts. Besides, what would your son think?"

"Cause it's a freakin hot picture for one, and for another I think my fans're ready for some sort of sign that I'm still interested in women. I know my son would be proud of the old man... he teases me about my 'monk' lifestyle," he chuckled. "But I'll shoot him a quick text and give him a heads up."

"Alright, alright," she agreed. "You break the internet... I'm going to run a hot bath for us. We reek of sex."