“Hmmm?” he replied.

“Which one is Cassiopia?” she asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Is it that one?” Tate asked, pointing at the sky.

“You're asking me about constellations?” he clarified.

“It's either that, or bitch at you some more. Your choice,” she told him, but she was joking.

“Come over here.”

It took a bit of maneuvering, and she almost tipped the hammock over, twice, but finally Tate was facing the same direction as him. The hammock was wide, so Tate tucked into his side, laying next to him with his arm under her head.

“I wanna see 'em all,” she informed him.

“Jesus, I'm not an astronomer, Tate,” he snapped.

“Yeah, but you are Jameson Kane. You know all,” was her response.

“Shut up. Look, right there.”

He pointed up and slightly to the right. When she still couldn't tell, he grabbed her hand and held it in his own, pointing her finger. He moved around, showing her the shape; sort of an “M” in the stars. Then he showed her some of the astrological signs. It was nice, talking about something non-sensical, something that didn't pertain to anything that was going on around them.

“How did you learn all these?” Tate asked, after he explained how Orion's Belt turned into the Hunter.

“A class in high school. Read some books,” he replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and tugging her closer, forcing her to roll onto her side. She anchored her arm around his waist.

“I never learned about that in school,” she said through a yawn. He snorted.

“Probably because you were too busy blowing your teacher,” he suggested. She laughed.

“Shut up, I didn't become a slut till after school,” she reminded him.

“Do you ever miss it?” he asked.

“What, school?”

“No, life before …, all this. Being able to sleep with whoever you want, whenever you want,” he explained. Tate grew still. Why was he asking her that?

“How do you mean?” she asked warily.

“You used to get to do whatever you want, whenever you wanted. Do whoever you wanted. Like Angier – you slept with him for like five years. Do you ever miss that?” Jameson tried to make it clearer. But it didn't clear anything up.

“Do I ever miss sleeping with Ang? What kind of question is that?” Tate demanded, planting her hands on his chest and pushing herself up. He shrugged.

“Just a question. Just curious,” he replied, smoothing her hair off of her face.

“Do you miss sleeping with every woman in the tri-state area?” Tate countered. Jameson laughed.

“Liebe, every woman in the tri-state area couldn't compete with you. No, I don't miss it,” he assured her. She narrowed her eyes.

“You're being suspiciously sweet,” she called him out. He snorted.

“I can't win with you. Just shut up and answer the question,” he said, yanking on a strand of her hair.

“No, I don't miss sleeping with Ang, or anyone else. Why would you ask me that?” she pressed. Jameson shrugged.

“Sometimes … sometimes I just like to double check that you're happy,” he finally said.

I am such a bitch.

“Jameson,” she breathed, laying down on his chest. “Even when you piss me off, I am still happier with you than I have ever been in my whole life.”

“Good answer.”

~3~

Jameson had a hell of a kink in his neck. That's what he got for spending the night in a hammock with Tate on top of him. And not in a sexy-fun-time way. No, more like a startled-awake-by-janitors way. Not sexy at all.

They made their way upstairs, and he was able to convince her to take a shower with him, but it was short lived. Sanders knocked on the door halfway through, before things had a chance to get really interesting. Apparently Jameson's “package” had arrived, the one he'd been waiting for; Sanders wasn't very good at being discreet. Luckily, Tate was too distracted by Jameson's fingers. He would just have to wait for his turn, so he made sure to give her a big enough orgasm that she wouldn't have cared if the bathroom walls fell down around them, never mind Jameson sneaking out.

“She's better?” Sanders asked as Jameson came out of the bedroom, rubbing a towel over his head.

“Yes. She was pissed because I'm 'yanking' you two around,” he chuckled.

“I told you she wouldn't like the surprise element.”

“I know. Is the car ready?”

“Yes, it's waiting downstairs.”

It was about a twenty minute drive to the airport. Jameson had originally wanted to hire a town car or a limo during their trip, but Sanders shot that idea down. He didn't feel comfortable with someone else driving him. He would drive, or he wouldn't be in the car at all. So even though it was supposed to be a vacation for him as well, Sanders was once again Jameson's chauffeur, carting him around Hong Kong in a rented Rolls Royce.

As they made their way across the island, Jameson's mind wandered. He stared out the window, but didn't take in any of the sights. Thought about Tate. Her laugh. Her eyes. Her body. He'd been looking at her almost every day for the last two years, but it never felt old. And really, he'd been looking at her for a lot longer than that; just in his memories. He thought back over the years. Smiled as he remembered the first time he had ever seen her …