Crazy Fantasy: Part 2-2

Morning doesn't arrive until much later than it normally would and we both wake up extremely well rested at nine. I drifted back from dreamland a few minutes before Gen and simply lay still, gazing at the beautiful woman in the crook of my arm. Gently I run my fingers through some of her hair that fell out of the twin plaits she had it in the night before.

Whether as a result of my movements or she naturally woke on her own, minutes within my waking, Gen begins to stir, and looks up at me.

"Morning," I whisper.

"Morning," she answers sleepily. "Have you been awake long?"

"Not long enough for such a delightful view."

Gen blushes lightly and moves to curl closer to me so I couldn't see it, but the stretch causes a giant yawn. I laugh quietly at her but quickly share a soft kiss.

"Now this is something I could get used to waking up to," Gen says quietly, shuffling back down to curl up against me.

We lay together in silence for a few moments just listening to the sounds of the world around us.

"Sounds like some of the others are up," Gen finally states.

"We should probably join them," I obligingly suggest. Neither of us move.

"Did I fall asleep while you were singing?" Gen asks so suddenly I nearly jump.

"Yes," I smile. "Don't worry, though. Mum used to sing that to Harry and I when we were little. It took me years to make it through the whole song. Mum said it's a family heirloom of sorts. Put anything to sleep."

"It was very beautiful," Gen agrees. "And you relaxed."

So that's what she was doing. "Thanks."

"Singing is one thing that I love listening to. I can't carry a tune in a bucket. Laura told me you'd go to karaoke clubs -- I wanted to hear."

"I need a better informant about you. Too much about me is out in the press. I have to get everything directly from you."

"I'm sure Jess would love to tell you tons of stories. And you'll get a few good ones this week," Gen laughs.

From outside the tent we hear Gen's mom calling to her sister giving us a bit of warning for a second later as Carly opens the tent up.

"Are you two just going to stay in bed all day? We're heading for the showers right away," she declares.

"Alright. We'll be out in a minute," Gen closes the zipper again and gives me an apologetic look.

"Good morning, beautiful," I laugh and gently kiss her.

"If it weren't for family it could be a lot better," Gen mutters as she begins to push her way out of her sleeping bag. For a moment, I get to see her beautiful legs before she quickly pulls a loose pair of sweats over her shorts followed by a sweater. Grudgingly, I follow her actions and pull on a sweater over my t-shirt and pants to keep out the chill of the morning air. Gen quickly roots through the bag she has sitting in the car, pulling out clothing for the day as well as some toiletries. Whether intentional or not, her bra falls off the pile towards me.

"You don't want to forget this, love," I say as I pick up the lacy object.

"Thanks," she smiles. "Are you sure I don't want to, though?"

"Well-" I can feel a blush creeping up my face. As beautiful as it looks on Gen, I'd rather not have such a display seen from me. Too much training, I guess.

* * *

Argh! Nearly got him. But, of course, sweet sophisticated and charming Wills simply mutters a sexy "Well" and kisses me senseless. How can someone with so little experience have such power?

"Gen!" Carly calls.

"I love you," Wills whispers as he moves away. "Go get cleaned up. I'll see you in an hour."

I laugh and kiss him quickly once more. "I love you. I don't take that long."

"What makes you think I don't?"

"Your way of life," I laugh then slip out of the tent to follow the troupe to the showers.

Twenty minutes later, I'm in front of the mirror attacking my hair with the blow-dryer. Once the water is gone I put it back in a French braid and tuck the end up underneath.

"Wills is going to hate that if he's anything like Scott," Carly says.

"It keeps it off my neck while we're hiking. I'll leave it down another time. Maybe when we go into the city."

"Have you decided when yet?"

"Nope. Too much hassle. We'll just go one day. You aren't going to leave it down, are you?" I question Carly's hairstyle.

"I'll put it up later. I like having it down."

"Let's go girls," Mom calls.

"Coming!" I answer, throwing the last of my stuff together.

"How did you sleep last night?" I ask my sister.

"Pretty well. It was nice to have Dylan there. Did I hear Wills singing to you?"

"Yep," I smile broadly. "He was kind of tense when we turned in, so I got him to sing to me. It was a beautiful song, but I fell asleep in the middle of it."

"He sang you to sleep. How romantic!"

"It was very nice," I agree, blushing simply at the thought of last night. "This is going to be one hell of a week if last night is any indication."

"So, when's the wedding?" Carly jokes.

"When Elizabeth says."

"Are you serious?" Carly looks at me, not sure how to take my flat tone.

"Being publicly named Wills girlfriend is a virtually binding contract. If we don't get married eventually, I'm ruined -- plain and simple. I knew that from the start, but that waitress last night confirmed it. I'm the new Di. And for Wills I'll do it."

"So what is your life going to be now, Mrs. Windsor?"

"Move to England after I graduate. After some time around Wills on a regular basis, and hopefully being accepted into English society, an engagement, then marriage in the traditional style," I say -- the last part rather dully.

"You two should elope."

"That'll be Harry. We wouldn't be able to get away with it," I explain as we get into sight of the trailer. "Not a word of this to anyone. Wills is the only other person I've spoken to about this -- not even Jon. Alright?"

"Alright," Carly agrees. "Will it be a summer wedding at least?"

"I don't have any say in it," I answer and smile as I see my gorgeous blond boyfriend. "Damn, he's hot," I whisper. Carly laughs.

"No argument here. Though Dylan isn't too bad either."

"I'll keep my Englishman."

"Are you talking about me, love?" Wills asks as he walks up to me.

"What gave you that idea?" I try to ask seriously.

"You have a very distinct glint in your eyes," he grins, wrapping his arm around my waist. "And I heard a comment about your Englishman."

"What makes you so certain I wasn't talking about Jon?" I ask, kissing him lightly on the cheek as I walk over to where the breakfast food is all set up. Laughing, I add, "Eavesdropper", as I grab half a bagel and a peach.

"Is that all you're eating?" Wills asks as he grabs an apple to follow whatever else he's had.

"Bagels are filling," I declare simply as I lightly toast said grain over the Colman stove and pour coffee for each of us.

"Thanks, love," Wills says as I hand him the steaming brew.

We both have a sip of it and I frown.

"Who made this?" I call. Dad offers his hand. "Why? There are Timmy's grounds in the box -- I packed them."

"Sorry, honey. Tomorrow, alright?"

Grumbling good-naturedly, I agree, muttering "I want my Timmy's."

At this, Wills laughs. "I'll have to introduce you to quality tea."

I just smile and have a sip of my coffee. It's not servicing my Timmy's addiction, but foreign travel does have its disadvantages. I'll have to have the palace import my coffee, I guess.

The next half hour passes fairly rapidly as we all munch on breakfast and prepare for a hike. Quickly, we find ourselves piling into the unpacked car -- which has a third row of seats in the back -- and the truck. It was a tight fit, but we managed somehow. A fifteen minute drive later, we pull into a dirt lot which leads onto several trails. We start off as a group but divisions quickly become obvious as Carly and Dylan walk in the lead, then the parents and finally Wills and I with our security entourage. It's an easy hour and a half walk to a beautiful rest stop so we take it slow and enjoy the scenery -- and each other.

Soon after we get onto the trail Wills takes my hand in his, smiling down at me. I return the look walking a little closer to him.

"I love you," I mouth.

* * *

I gaze down at the petite woman walking by my side and smile. She looks up at me and mouths the words "I love you". Knowing that I couldn't stop to kiss her, I slowly lift her hand to my lips and kiss her fingers.

"You have such tiny fingers. They are so delicate," I say as I look at them.

Gen stretches them out emphasizing their length. "I got them from my great grandmother I'm told. She's the source of most of my frame, actually, from what I know. I don't resemble most of my family, so it would make sense."

"I'm glad you inherited everything you did. You are extremely beautiful."

"Wills!" Gen chastises me for the compliment.

"Yes, love?" I say, holding her close.

"You are too much of a charmer," she laughs, wrapping her arm around my waist.

"I won't deny it, though only for you," I vow.

"I won't complain," Gen promises. "I enjoy this far too much. I wish we had more time together."

"Don't rush me away that quickly," I laugh, though some mirth shows through. The distance we'll have to deal with over the next two years will be difficult to handle.

"I wish we didn't live so far apart," Gen says quietly.

"So do I. But we are together for now. Let's enjoy it," I say as I kneed my hand along her lower back.

Gen moans quietly in gratitude. She had told me that she has problems with her lower back hurting a month or so ago, when we were still getting to know the ins and outs of the other.

"I didn't know you remembered," she whispers.

"I promised you a massage, didn't I?"

"Well..." she tries to dodge.

"Let me spoil you while I can," I offer. "You aren't about to get out of this to keep me from giving you what I can."

"Alright," she agrees. "But I want to be able to spoil you too."

"Being with you is spoiling me more than enough."

"Not to likely," Gen laughs. "You deserve as much as I do, if not more."

"Not having a camera in my face is a blessing. This is so relaxing."

"Well, at least not with a professional behind it," Gen points out.

I smile, thinking of the few pictures that had been taken of us on this trip by her sister. "I'm looking forward to seeing those ones."

"You'll probably get to see them before we do -- they'll have to go to England to be processed."

"Bribery material," I laugh.

"Not too likely," Gen counters. "I'm bound to like the pictures -- they're of us. And Carly will leap down your throat for not giving them to her. She's very proud of her photography."

"I'll have to remember that," I promise.

"And this way I have pictures of us that aren't news clippings," Gen jokes.

"That is something we need to fix," I agree. "Maybe we'll go get some taken when we go to New York."

Gen smiles up at me. I have to admit, we do make a gorgeous couple. Any photographer would be happy to have us sit for them. Hopefully we can find one; I want to get some pictures of the two of us. I don't have many professional pictures of anyone. The hard part will be finding someone we could trust.

"There're always the photo booths," Gen says, reading my mind. "You get some of the most memorable pictures from there."

"A photo booth?" I ask.

"You sit in this little box; it takes four pictures then prints them out. You see them at a lot of fairs. Haven't you ever seen one?"

"Maybe," I say. The idea seems familiar. "That could be fun."

Gen smiles. "You have no idea," she laughs, looking like she is remembering another time. I tilt my head to the side and she says "I'll have to show you the pictures some time," in explanation.

We continue to walk down the wooded path until we arrive at a ledge, offering a spectacular view of the surrounding countryside with the Big City in the background, where we stop for lunch. Several of us had been wearing backpacks filled with sandwiches and drinks, as well as a large assortment of treats. I opened the one I had been carrying to find a couple water bottles a few large buns and a bag of candy. Gen's eyes light up as she sees what I have.

"I'm glad we're on holidays," she laughs as I hand the bag to her. "There is no better treat than mom's peanut brittle."

"Doesn't she ever make it for other times?"

"At least once a month," Gen answers, "But if I want to fit into all those pretty little dresses, I have to watch what I eat."

"You could stand to gain a few pounds," Carly says as she and Dylan sit down with us.

"If I let myself eat mom's treats as often as she makes them I'd gain more than a few," Gen laughs.

"I wish," Carly laughs. "You couldn't put on weight if you tried."

Gen just laughs in response and has piece of the candy. I can't help but smile as she smiles at the flavor. She looks adorable as she enjoys it.

* * *

I take a bite of Mom's peanut brittle and thoroughly enjoy the feeling of it melting on my tongue. As I open my eyes, I see Wills looking at me, smiling. A crazy idea surfaces as I look at him and I pop another piece into my mouth. Moving closer to Wills I lean in and gently kiss him, sharing the buttery candy. Wills certainly seems to enjoy it, and the two of us share the piece until it melts away.

"That is very good," Wills agrees. "Would you care for some more," he whispers in my ear.

"Yummy," I laugh as he pulls me into his lap.

We enjoy a comfortable meal full of flirtation and laughter. As the sun begins to move past the middle of the sky Dylan pulls a ball out of his bag and we start tossing it around gently. We are in too small a space to have any sort of really good game if we want to keep the ball, but we manage to have a decent game of pass going. What seems far too quickly, Mom announces that we have to head back if we want to have supper tonight. Packs much lighter, we begin the walk back, talking quietly.

"I wonder if I'll ever understand you," Wills whispers in my ear.

"I hope not," I answer. "Or at least not completely. That would take all the fun out."

Wills laughs and holds my hand a little tighter.

"What made you think of that?" I ask.

"I don't know. You amaze me, you know that?" Wills says as he wraps his arm around my waist.

Blushing, I look up at him in adoration. "I'm not the only amazing one," I whisper in reply.

"I love you, my beautiful lady."

"I love you, my prince."

We continue to follow the path back to the car, sometimes talking, sometimes just enjoying the scenery. We pull back into the campsite just as we should be getting started on dinner. Dad lit another fire and Mom and Mary begin to get hotdogs ready to be toasted over the fire.

"I hope you enjoy processed foods," I smile at Wills as I see what we're eating, walking over to the Aztec.

"You know I love ‘regular' food," Wills returns my smile. "What are you looking for?"

"My brush," I explain as I root through my bag by the back of the Aztec. "I want to take my hair down."

"Do you prefer to wear it down?" Wills asks as he wraps his arms around me, looking over my shoulder.

"It depends on my mood," I answer truthfully. There are times I love having long hair, but others that if it weren't for the fact that I can put it up it would be cut off. "How do you like it?"

"I love being able to run my fingers through it," Wills admits, "but you look stunning when you have it up as well."

"You must have a preference," I try to get a straight answer.

"I do prefer it down," Wills answers. "I love how soft it is. And it looks so gently feminine."

"You certainly have a way with words," I smile at him as I pull my brush out the bag and turn around in his arms. My newly found brush is forgotten for a moment, though, as we gaze into each others eyes, completely absorbed in each other. My hands slowly creep up his chest enjoying every inch of the well defined bronzed flesh I know is hidden under the light t-shirt he is wearing. As my hands move over the flat of his chest, no man-boobs on my guy thankfully, he shivers a little, bringing a bigger smile to my face.

"You have magical hands, love," Wills whispers in my ear as he begins to kiss along my cheek, slowly moving to my lips. I turn to butter in his hands almost instantly as his lips gently seduce me. I gently murmur my pleasure just as his lips reach mine and we share a wonderful kiss. Though no where near as passionate as we have been, there is an amazing amount of love flowing between us. As Wills pulls away slowly my eyes, which I don't even recall closing, flutter open to see his beautiful blues gazing into my own. "I love you," he whispers.

"I love you," I return just as quietly.

"Fire's ready!" Dad calls from somewhere behind us.

"Good timing," Wills laughs. "Do you want me to brush out your hair after supper?"

"That would be wonderful, thank you," I smile at the thought of how nice it will feel to have Wills working through my hair.

We walk around to the front of the Aztec where Dad has a nice size fire going and Carly and Dylan are already heating up hotdogs.

"Kids eat first," Mom says handing us each a metal stick with a hotdog on it.

"Thanks, *Mom*," I say with a smile as Wills and I find a spot in the fire to cook our dinner. Split between the eleven of us it takes a while to finish supper, but there was very little cleanup involved, so we quickly settled down again once it was done in a similar fashion to last night. Everyone grabbed a chair and curled up in front of the warmth from the fire. Tonight conversation was more mixed as we all talked to each other and some of the stories I knew would come out on this trip began to surface. As the night drifts away I get to introduce Wills to s'Mores, though he had already perfected the art of marshmallow roasting.

"We had them quiet often when I was in South America," Wills confesses. "I'm afraid I got rather addicted to them by the time we left. Now there are always fresh marshmallows at Balmoral when I go," he admits and we both laugh.

Eventually the fire dies down and we start getting ready to turn in for the night. Wills and I walk to washrooms together followed by our security guys who will take turns standing in front of the women's washroom. While I've gotten used to having Jon around most of the time, he has also adapted to the fact that I'm not in that much danger most of the time. However, with Wills and the other guys around he has had to step up again to ‘security guard' more than he has for a while. Which means that I'm stuck putting up with more security as well.

* * *

Stepping out of the washroom I see Steve standing in front of the woman's washroom and am ready for Gen being a little more distant, like she normally is when the security guards are taking extra precautions she can't entirely understand. I really don't blame her, but washrooms are where we are most at risk because it is where defenses are most lowered. And with no female guards, Gen is at an even higher risk.

Thirty seconds after I leave the washroom Gen steps out, sees Steve and tenses up, but as soon as she sees me most of the tension disappears. She's more relaxed when she's with me, at least, but I know some of the apparent ease is forced after encounters with the guys. But then, I'm the same way. I've just lived with them longer.

Wrapping my arm around her waist, Gen and I walk back to the campsite, say goodnight to everyone else and climb into our bed in the back of the Aztec. I wrap my arms around Gen and she curls up against my side, resting her head on my arm.

"You alright, love?" I ask, gently kissing the top of her head.

"I'm fine, why do ask?" she says, tilting her head up to see me.

"You seem a little tense, is all."

"It's nothing. I guess I'm still just getting used to having all these extra precautions taken. Jon probably gives me a little more space than he should, but knows it would drive me insane if I had the same level of security as you do. At least not without working into it gradually."

"I know. I wish you didn't have to have a guard. I wish I didn't either. Believe it or not, they are actually being more relaxed than normal, and because of that, I'm noticing them more," I say with a smile.

"I'm looking forward to the day I can say that," Gen admits, "though it is so sad to have that."

"Shh," I comfort, holding Gen a little closer. "Let's not talk about it. I never knew you were such a tomboy in your younger days," I change topics.

Embarrassed, Gen hides her face in my chest and nods. "When I was really young I enjoyed wearing those cute little summer dresses you see little kids in. When I got older, though, they weren't as cute anymore and the things Mom started to try and get me to wear were awful. So I decided that I hated dressing up and refused to wear a dress unless I absolutely had to. I actually managed to go for so long not wearing a dress that I didn't have any that fit when I finally did need one. That was when my love for long dresses started. I'd only wear long dresses for the next few years. It wasn't until the first summer Scott and I were going out that I started to wear shorter skirts again on a regular basis. I still hate minis, though."

I laugh gently at her and receive a bit of a condemning look. "At least you have class enough to not show that much leg."

This time Gen laughs. "I'll still show the leg, I just try to keep from showing the underwear. I know you appreciated those shorts I was wearing today."

"True," I agree.

We talk quietly for a little longer then drift off to sleep. Having Gen in my arms made it amazingly easier to relax, and I found myself falling asleep faster than I have since I was on my gap year.

* * *