Having stolen things on a few different occasions, now, I’m discovering that the night before is always the most stressful part.

When the plan is actually in motion, there’s no time to dwell on your fears. The adrenaline provides a strange, extreme clarity, a tunnel-vision towards the end goal.

It’s this part that’s the hardest. The waiting.

All the details have been discussed, the contingencies planned out, the preparations made. We have both Will and Kasey’s approval on the plan, and we’ve talked it through with them very thoroughly. We can’t tell them the exact location of the warehouse, because Calla won’t tell us. We only know that it’s out in the middle of nowhere. But the ghosts know exactly what we’re doing, and they’ll be waiting for us to get back.

Everything has been sorted out. There’s no planning left to do, no final tweaks that need to be made. Which means that I have nothing to do but accumulate anxieties.

They've been building up within me all day. By the time my shift at the shop was over, my muscles were in knots, my movements all jittery, my thoughts scattered. Destinee kept having to wave her hand in front of my face to get my attention, even though I was looking right at her as she spoke.

When I got home, I started tending to my plants, but nothing worked to help me shake off the pressure.

Until Aiden got here, that is.

Relieved and grateful, I bend to push a kiss into his chestnut hair.

We’re curled up together in my bed, in our boxers. I’m sitting up, my back against the headboard. Aiden is between my bent knees, his upper back and his head resting against my chest. My laptop is open, balanced on his stomach. I told him to pick out whatever he felt like watching, and he picked The Crow.

It’s one of my all-time favorite ghost movies, and Aiden knows that. He can tell that I’m stressed out, so he picked something that’s like comfort food to me.

I rest my chin on the top of his head, my arms wrapped around him. Snow tumbles down nonstop outside, but my room is perfectly warm.

Just having Aiden here has helped reset my anxious brain. He melts into all of the cracks in my calm, fills them in. For the first time all day, I’m breathing as I should be, don’t feel seconds away from needing my inhaler. Aiden’s fingertips drift idly up and down my forearm, and their small, gentle movements work against my bigger fears.

This moment of peace and wholeness is everything I needed, tonight.

We’re at the part of The Crow where Top Dollar, the movie’s archvillain, is giving a rah-rah speech to the other bad guys. They’re all gathered around a huge table. Its surface is overflowing with weapons, alcohol, playing cards, drugs, and money, but everyone’s focus is entirely on the big bad villain.

He’s amping them up, telling them to go bigger with their planned attack on Detroit. He wants them to set the entire city on fire.

“Are we having fun, or what?” Top Dollar bellows, gesturing wildly at the gathered crooks.

All of the bad guys cheer, except for the shivering henchman in the corner. The one already bleeding and injured, the one who knows he’s in serious trouble for letting the hero escape.

“Hey, you!” Top Dollar roars, zeroing in on him, getting right up in his face. “What’s your name - Skank! You don’t feel that?”

Skank flinches, terrified, and sputters: “I - I feel like a little worm on a big fuckin’ hook!”

I reach around Aiden to pause the movie.

“That,” I tell him. “That’s how I feel right now. Like a little worm on a big fuckin’ hook.”

A rumbling huff of laughter comes from Aiden, vibrates through my body. He closes my laptop and sets it aside, then puts a hand on my knee.

I take this to be simply a comforting gesture, but the connection shimmers open, and Aiden speaks right into my head.

Everything’s going to be okay, Jamie. I know we’ve never tried to take on something like this before. Breaking into somewhere this well-guarded, I mean. But we’ve also never had Calla on our team before.

Aiden is right, and I know that. But now, with the connection open... I can feel that he’s nervous, just like I am. He was staying calm for me, but it’s there, beneath the surface.

I’m sorry, I murmur, stroking my fingers through his hair. You’re anxious, too. I don’t know how I didn’t realize. Can I do anything to make you feel better? We don’t have to watch this, we can watch some - football, or something?

Football typically isn’t played or aired at 2 AM, Aiden answers, laughing through the connection. And nah, I’m all good. I like this movie. I notice that the good guy can still play his electric guitar, by the way, despite being a ghost.

Let’s make sure not to tell Kasey, or she’ll want us to make her a ghost-guitar, next.

True. Aiden shakes his head, his chestnut hair tickling my chest. And who knows what she’ll want after that?

Um - she did say something about how it would be cool to have a ghost ship, I answer. Like Davy Jones.

Oh, okay, Aiden laughs. Sure, yeah, a fucking ghost ship. Why not? Let’s get on that right away.

Our laughter mingles together, though my room stays silent.

Aiden turns his head to look up at me, and I lock my arms around him. His blue eyes are striking and soft when they find my face, when they gaze into mine.

And somehow, even amidst the internal turmoil and stress, I find myself having one of those moments where the entire universe seems to be in perfect harmony.

Suspended in the dream world of Aiden’s eyes, I float effortlessly. Tomorrow vanishes from my mind, and I give myself over to the present.

A precious, sublime moment of complete calm.

Aiden feels me find it, through the connection. It has a contagious effect on him, and he breathes out what sounds like a heavy sigh of relief.

He breaks his gaze away, leans the back of his head against my chest again. Leaves one mammoth hand on my knee.

I close my eyes, bury my nose into his hair. For the billionth time, I’m overwhelmingly grateful that Aiden managed to resuscitate the person he is at his core, even after all those years lost to hurt and anger. That he came back to Ketterbridge and woke up what was asleep in me, a capacity for love that I never knew I had.

We sit together quietly, both of us watching the snow through the open window.

Hope I don’t have nightmares tonight, Aiden says, after some time. I want to be focused, tomorrow. Bad sleep really doesn’t help with that.

I plan to coax Aiden out of any nightmares that might come for him tonight, so he doesn’t need to worry about that.

I press a kiss onto the top of his head, wondering. Can I ask you something?

Sure, Keane.

Are all of your nightmares about - you know. Being a Guardian?

Aiden is surprised by this. I can feel it, though he doesn’t turn around or let me see his face.

No. I have regular nightmares, too. There’s this one I super hate, where I’m - nevermind, you don’t want to hear about this.

Yeah, I do, I answer, trailing my forefinger in a circle on his sternum. Tell me.

I - I’m walking on something fragile, Aiden says haltingly, And I’m trying to walk lightly, be really careful. But I’m breaking everything, crashing through, making these deep holes wherever I put my foot down. By the time it’s over, I’ve destroyed everything. I can’t even remember what it was before I ruined it.

My throat tightens, my heart twisting in my chest. Oh, babe...

It’s alright, Aiden quickly reassures me. I do have nice dreams, too. Ones about you. It used to make me sad, waking up from those, but - it doesn’t anymore. Now they’re just very nice.

I smile to myself, absorbing that. A silence passes, and the happiness welling up in me flows out through the connection. It stays with Aiden for a moment, then comes back to me enriched, twice as vivid.

I suck in a little breath, and feel Aiden relax even further back against me.

My fingers begin to slowly traverse his body, the lines and curves of muscle, absorbing the warmth of his skin.

You sound happy, he murmurs, though I haven’t said anything. You feel happy, too.

Because I’m glad you’re here. I trace a fingertip down the centerline of Aiden’s body, from his chest to the waistline of his boxers. And, um - I’ve been thinking about what Calla said. About how she knew that we’re together just because of how you look at me. She really told on you, huh?

Okay, Aiden groans. First of all, Keane, you look at me like that, too.

Yeah, I’m not even gonna bother denying it.

And second of all, I used to be pretty fucking good at keeping it a secret. I don't know what happened. It’s like the longer I’m with you, the worse I am at that.

I shift to look down at Aiden, confused. His hand slips from my knee, breaking the connection.

“Keeping what a secret?” I ask. “Us? I thought we were bad at that. Everyone kinda figured it out.”

“No, not us, just…” He’s shy suddenly, quiet. “How I feel about you.”

“Oh.” I bite my lip, feeling a spike of heat in my cheeks. “Sorry, I - didn’t realize you were thinking all the way back to high school. But yeah, that’s true. You were really good at keeping it a secret.”

I slip my fingers beneath the elastic of Aiden’s boxers as I think, gently stroking his velvet-soft skin. His breath hitches, and his dark eyelashes flutter as he glances up at me.

“Um,” he rumbles, his voice growing rough, “Jamie-”

“Like seriously, I fucking never would have guessed.” I smooth my unoccupied hand down Aiden’s bare torso, again and again, very slowly, stopping to give him brief, tantalizing touches along the way. “It’s kinda funny that you’re getting worse at hiding it, though. Why is that, do you think?”

Aiden shivers beneath my fingertips. “I don’t, um-”

“I like it, though.” I close my eyes, to feel him better. I know his body so well by now that I can easily navigate it by touch alone. “Just for the record. I really like it.”

“Like what?” Aiden breathes, as I press my fingers into his firm muscles, massaging deep pressure into them.

I drop my head down, so I can lean around and press a kiss onto Aiden’s temple. “That you’re bad at hiding it.”

“Oh.” His deep, rich voice is quickly growing breathless. “Cool. That makes it marginally less embarrassing. I guess.”

I laugh, and at the end of the bed, Aiden’s toes curl. He sits up a little more, trying to slip my hand deeper into his boxers. But I keep it where it is, skating my fingertips over his body hair.

Aiden turns his head to look at me. The smoldering blue of his eyes has been almost completely eclipsed by his pupils.

I bend forward to kiss him, put just the tip of my tongue to his before I bring our mouths together.

Aiden melts back into me when I break off the kiss, rests the side of his face against my shoulder. His bronze cheeks have turned a burnt shade of scarlet, his breathing growing heavier as my hands start to explore him again.

“This type of thing,” he stammers. “This is exactly why I’m so damn bad at hiding it.”

I laugh, because I know what he means. My body is on fire, right now.

I bow my head to tease my mouth along the exposed curve of Aiden’s neck, and see his fingers grasping at the blankets. He’s throwing off waves of heat, and a light sheen of sweat gathers on both of us, makes the path of my hands easier. I skim my palms over his hip bones, sink my fingers into those divots of muscle.

Without warning, Aiden turns around and rolls us over, so that he lands flat on his back, with me on top of him. He looks up at me and makes a soft, pleading sound, tugging at the hem of my boxers.

I let out a startled laugh, then slide off of him so I can take my boxers off. Then I take his off, too.

“Thank god,” he purrs, sliding his hands up my thighs as I climb back on top of him. “Sensing I’ll have really good dreams tonight, actually.”

I start to laugh again, but Aiden pulls me down into a kiss, cutting me off.

I’m happy to know that this is another way I can give Aiden better dreams. And it feels like falling into a beautiful dream for me, too. Blissful, all-consuming.

I lose myself completely in Aiden’s arms. My safe haven, my place of peace before we venture together out into the storm.

~~~~

“Did you guys get some good sleep last night?” Calla asks. “Like I told you to?”

“Yes, actually.” Aiden keeps his eyes firmly on the road, careful not to glance at me in the backseat. “We’re ready.”

Calla drove for the first hour. Now that Aiden has taken over, she’s got her laptop out on her knees. She’s been working away on it for a while, but I have no idea what she’s doing.

It’s late, pitch-black outside. Ketterbridge is shining with snowlight, but we left it behind a long time ago, and the storm didn’t hit here. Motionless trees and fields of dead brown grass spread around us in every direction. There's nothing to refract the moonlight.

I’m taking comfort in the fact that at least my car has been left out of all this. We’re in an old, battered SUV, belonging to a friend of Calla’s. It’s dusty and black, with a loud engine that lets out a roar of complaint whenever Aiden accelerates.

“Okay, something is seriously wrong with the transmission,” Aiden says, wincing at yet another rough growling noise. “Or the exhaust system.”

“Mhm,” Calla agrees, typing speedily away on her computer. “That’s exactly why I chose to borrow this particular car.”

“I know, but - are we even gonna make it there?” Aiden asks. “How much farther-?”

“Right here,” Calla says suddenly. She sits up, closes her laptop, and shoves it into the glove compartment. “This turn.”

The car lets out a groan of protest as Aiden takes the turn, but we make it onto the dark, gravel road. It's unmarked, no sign.

Aiden slows us down significantly, catches my eye in the rearview.

My heart is starting to race. We’re nearly there. We’re really doing this.

Calla pulls a neon-orange beanie down onto her head. Other than that, she’s wearing all black, so it stands out brightly against everything else.

I have the black beanie in my fist, balled up. I’m crushing it a little by accident, battling against the rising nerves in my stomach.

Calla zips up her loose, shapeless black jacket. She pulls the hood up and settles it over her head, but leaves the orange beanie clearly visible.

“Got the paperwork, Aiden?” she asks.

Aiden holds up the clipboard, keeping his eyes on the winding, tree-lined road. “We’re all set.”

“Good,” Calla says. She looks at me, then at Aiden. “Just stick to the plan, and everything will be fine. You get me where I need to go, I get the evidence, and you get me out. That’s all it is.”

We both nod silently at her. She faces forward again, breathes out a long exhale.

When she opens her eyes, they’re practically burning with wild excitement.

I add one more item to my mental list of what we know about Calla: adrenaline junkie. I probably should have realized that long before now.

We round a curve in the road, come into view of the building. I unstrap myself, grab the blanket, and slide down onto the floor of the car, out of sight. Aiden takes a deep, steadying breath, running a hand through his chestnut hair.

And Calla breaks into a wide grin.

“Okay, boys,” she says, her fierce brown eyes fixed on the building. “Let's do this."