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Title: By The Seashore.
Summary: Ira and Aiden take a detour on their way to New Orleans.

They drove down to Florida, instead of toward Alabama like Aiden initially planned, after they reached Georgia. "To meet some other family of his," he said, and Ira hadn't argued with the decision. She wondered (silently of course, because it's not like she really cared) why he was suddenly so reluctant to get back to New Orleans when he had been so damn happy to go when they were still in New York, but didn't bring it up. They had agreed to at least try and avoid arguments, and she had promised her mother she would try to think before she opened her mouth.

They arrived late that night. Aiden's family seemed surprised that she was with him when they got there, but they were friendly and accommodating all the same. His aunt and uncle mostly kept to themselves, but their four daughters all seemed to want to ask Ira questions about what New York City was like. When they found out that she had been to Ireland and other places, it was nearly impossible to get away from them, and Aiden hadn't been any help. He had just laughed every time she sent him a look, hoping for a way out. Asshole.

Finally their parents had wrangled them up and sent them off to ready for bed, which allowed Ira and Aiden to go their separate ways. She wasn't sure where he had gone to. She had only grabbed her luggage, brought it to the guest room she had been given, and changed into a bathing suit. Late at night or not, the beach sounded like a nice idea after a long day on the road.

The beach by Aiden's family's property was practically deserted at that time of night, and she was content to walk silently and let the waves wash over her feet. She picked up a few seashells here and there, throwing the bigger ones back into the ocean, and that was when she saw Aiden out in the waves.

Ira only saw him for a few seconds, and she didn't think he saw her. Then he dived under, and she only wondered the hell he was doing. He came back up a minute later, shaking the hair out of his eyes.

"What are you doing?" she asked loud enough to carry.

He laughed when he saw her, and waved a hand over his head. He was holding something, but she couldn't see what it was. He started swimming back to shore, and Ira tried not to let him see her stare when he walked onto shore. It was almost a sin how good he looked with his shirt off, even if she would never tell him that, but she still saw the way he grinned at her. Damn. He saw.

"Got you this." He tossed something to her, and she dropped the other shells she was holding the catch it.

It was a sand-dollar. She held it up, trying to see if it was broken anywhere, but it wasn't. "You dived to get this?"

"It's not that deep down. Thought you'd like it."

She did, surprisingly. Ira was about to thank him when he caught her off guard by suddenly being in front of her. He kissed her hard and bit her lip. She moaned and dropped the sand-dollar, and scratched her nails down his stomach in retaliation.

He jerked back with a groan, before he laughed again. "You know how to thank a guy."

"Shut up," she said, and bent down to pick her sand-dollar up.

He grinned wider. "It's not tourist season yet. Bet I can get us into one of the empty beach houses."

"Why would I help you break and enter into a beach house?"

"I don't need your help breaking and entering into a beach house," he retorted, "but you're gonna go with me because you think it sounds like fun, and it's a hell of a lot better than going back to the four youngin's back there, ain't it?" he asked, jerking his thumb back towards his family's property.

She almost hated how well he knew her. "Shut up. Make sure to get one with a nice bed."

He did. It was a king size, with white sheets that were bloodstained when they were finished. They were both covered in bite marks and scratches from the waist up, and out of breath, and completely sated.

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February 2012

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