"Past and Future"

Emma and Dean eased down on a log, sitting together in a quiet swamp. The soft moss cushioned their naked skin. They'd nearly reached their destination, but needed some time to refresh themselves.

Three rays of sunlight cut into the forest, one bathing Emma in a glittering beam. "How come we don't do this more often?" she asked, taking a sip from the water bottle. "How come we don't actually explore this island?"

Dean looked outward, then chuckled a bit. It took a few seconds for him to respond. "When we got settled here...when we got secure...there was a part of me that didn't really want to explore. I guess I was worried that we'd find a way off."

She flinched a tad, eyeing him curiously.

He lifted her hand, looking down at her ring. "You weren't my wife back then, you were my high-school crush. You were the girl I used to think of when I stared at my ceiling." He smiled a little as the memories came back. "Coming here, being alone with you...there was a part of me that didn't really want that to end. It just took me a while to admit it out loud."

She grinned herself while stroking his hand.

"After we actually fell in love, most of those worries kind of faded away." He shrugged. "I just never really felt like exploring much. My favorite spots were good enough for me. We found the tree house. We found the lagoons. We found those pools that we slide into. We found those peaks where we watch the stars..." Dean glanced around. "I always figured that we'd explore the rest eventually — but I kind of kept putting it off in my mind."

Emma nodded. "Me too," she concurred. "I don't really know why I put it off, though. I guess that's what I was asking you." She paused a moment. "Maybe it relates to what I mentioned once. I don't need to look forward all the time anymore, because I actually like where I am right now."

The map had brought them to a large grass valley. Their target was buried at the top of a hill.

Following a climb that lasted nearly an hour, Dean and Emma made it up a huge green slope.

"They certainly aren't making this easy, are they?" Emma took in the unusual view. Thick clouds stretched down the blue horizon. Soft blades bristled on the ground where they stood. She looked about, finding no box in sight. "I hate to ask now, but are we sure that this is the right hill?" she wondered.

Dean glanced around with curious eyes. "The map pointed us to the tallest," he murmured. "I'm pretty sure this is the- -" His words faded as he stepped on something. "Em," he said, motioning toward the grass. "Something's different right here."

She followed his gaze. A patch of dirt was present in the mass of green.

They eyed one another, then knelt in place, their nude skin warmed by the glistening sun. With some makeshift tools made of hard bamboo, the two began digging through the loose, brown dirt.

Sure enough, in a matter of seconds, Emma and Dean found another wood box.

She grinned in excitement, her whole body shaking.

Dean smiled too, feeling a wave of awe.

Upon opening the box, they found additional books, plus another map, identical to the first.

Something else was waiting for them as well — a little note placed at the top of the pile. The paper looked ancient; it was brittle and worn.

Emma held it up, and both studied the message:

"My name is Cecilia Liliana Brightwood, daughter of Sir T.W. Brightwood III."

Dean eyed Emma with a puzzled expression, getting the very same look from her. These sounded like rich people whom they'd never heard of.

"My secondary passion in life is art. My greatest passion is exploration. The latter is precisely what brought me here. This island seemed an interesting place to explore."

Emma turned back to Dean again. She wondered just how long ago this was written.

"After finding a tree house, and gathering rations, my party and I began searching the grounds. Unfortunately, there is nothing worth finding on this little rock. As such, we've happily left this place.

"Before departing, I relieved myself of some dreadful books. They were gifts from my mother, but I found them dull. I suppose I'll convince her that each was lost. In the event that you happen to enjoy them, however, you will find this map that I've sketched quite useful. It leads to a few other boxes like this, each with a duplicate map inside. I have buried more than books as well. Run along now, and unearth them all.

"Remember, never stop exploring."

Dean and Emma sat side by side, reading new novels in their brown tree house.

"So," he said, "now we know who's responsible for all these books."

Emma grinned while setting the novel down. "I'm certainly grateful for each of them." She paused a moment, a thought coming to her. "Something she mentioned stands out to me."

Dean looked curious, and lowered his tome too.

"She got bored because she couldn't find anything on the island." Emma watched Dean with an affectionate smile. "I guess she never learned what we found out: you have to build something worth having here."

Dean took Emma's hand in his.

She returned the affection and stroked his fingers. Then they leaned toward each other, and slowly kissed.