I ate so much Fairy Floss I couldn't even look at it for years. [She remembers full well their adventures in Alton Towers, how they'd beat all the stupid stall games and wander around the park with huge, stuffed animals. Lucy would continue to give them away to other children and Eames would win her a new one within the next ten minutes. They'd gorged themselves on candy and illicit beer, and then they'd ride the roller coasters and Eames would be sick.] Some stupid wanker tried to pull down my top in the water park and you hit him so hard you broke his teeth. [They'd been kicked out after that, of course, and Lucy had bandaged Eames' bleeding knuckles, the two of them giggling and clinging to each other as they made their way home.

She'd known she'd loved him then, known it with a fierceness that hasn't mellowed much since.

The door creaks open a little more, one pale hand sneaking through the crack to search for his, her fingers cold and fragile in his huge palm. Piece by piece, she slithers through the door, hesitant and afraid, until she's on the bedroom side with him, curled up as small as she can get, carefully leaning against him.

It's okay. Eames is safe.]