Chapter One
Miss Shannon

Marcus Reynolds was not usually a morning person. His bedroom was always kept dark, his curtains drawn so he could rest in complete darkness, and he always tried to sleep in as much as possible since he his shifts varied from morning to afternoon, and even on certain occasions, the graveyard shift. Today was the odd exception.

For some unfathomable reason he had woken at least an hour before his alarm was set to go off.

Mark had lain on his bed for at least ten minutes before forcing himself out of bed, groaning the entire time. He took his pain medication for the lingering aches he had received during a recent fight, and contemplated doing a few light exercises with the bunching bag installed in his living room since Alicia had banned him from entering the gym before deciding it wasn't worth the effort.

Likewise his guitar was still resting beside his bed from when he had played the night before, various compositions of the song he was attempting to perfect strewn around the room. He had been inspired to write due to the young woman who had captured his attention days before, and just thinking of her now sent a rush of excitement through his veins.

Mark idly wondered if she was as excited to think about him as he was about her. It seemed as though his every thought revolved around the fascinating Madelyn Shannon ever since he first laid eyes on her, and no matter how hard he tried to pursue other thoughts, he always gravitated back to her the moment he saw something he thought she might like.

Commander Taylor had certainly been amused with him the previous night, when Mark had asked him for advice on how to court a woman. He flushed even now; recalling how gob smacked the older man had looked at his choice of words. Mark knew that courting was not a modern notion, and in fact the only reason he even knew what it meant was because of his mother's fondness for old fashioned romances.

Diana Reynolds had instilled in him a deep respect for women from a young age, and his mother had clearly influenced how he wanted to pursue his affections. He knew she would have approved wholeheartedly in both his approach and of the young lady herself.

Commander Taylor had clearly been baffled by his odd request, though Mark really had no one else to rely upon for advice. He supposed he could have turned to the commander's better half for insight; if he wanted to humiliate himself even more, that is.

Alicia had yet to seriously poke fun at him for his crush on Madelyn, but he was under no illusion that his self-appointed big sister would just sit idly by and watch him flounder without a few jabs at his expense. She was just biding her time, waiting for him to let his guard down, and he would in no way be offering her more ammunition for when she ultimately struck like the snake she was.

Therefore Mark had been left with no other choice but to consult the commander. He respected the older man, and Taylor had been married once before so Mark assumed that he had to have some idea how to romance a woman. He had not anticipated, however, what his request would eventually cause.

Mark was aware that his peers did not treat women as delicately as they should be treated. He could rarely recall an occasion in the gym where he had overheard his fellow soldiers speaking about the girls they pursued as little more than conquests for their own amusement.

It sickened him, how they play games and toy with hearts like that. As far as he had known, though, the commander had a sixth sense of everything that went on within the walls of Terra Nova. Taylor obviously knew about the illegal gambling that went on in Boylan's bar, and he let it slide, and the man always seemed to know when someone was doing something they shouldn't.

Apparently, Mark had been mistaken, because when the older man had inquired why he could not turn to one of his non-existent friends for advice on the matter and Mark expressed his reluctance to seek advice from men who treat women like that… well, to say that Commander Taylor had been angry would be an understatement.

Commander Taylor had thanked him for bringing it to his attention, an aura of fury shrouding him as he had stomped off toward Mark's own house without another word. He had followed the other man warily, arriving on his porch just in time to hear Taylor repeat his own words back to Alicia, who took them as well as to be expected.

Hell hath no fury like a pissed off Alicia Washington.

Needless to say Mark had not received his advice, though he was expecting an upheaval within the ranks about conduct with civilians soon. He was absolutely dreading it, already imagining being singled out by every one of his peers for being a snitch… even if he was secretly pleased that something was sure to be done about it.

Still at square one on the courting front, Mark brushed his teeth and got dressed quickly, his feet leading down the familiar street before he even realized he had left the house. He was too immersed with trying to figure out what to say to her exactly, because she made him nervous as hell, and he usually got distracted by her mere presence to actually form coherent words.

Good morning! How are you? Too generic—he may as well be speaking to his neighbor.

I was just walking by on my way to work, and I wanted to see how you were doing after last night? Too risky—work was the totally opposite direction from her house and he would eventually have to head that way.

I love the way you smile, and I just had to see it once this morning before I head off to sit in front of a security monitor for four hours until my shift is over. Not a snowballs chance in the scorching fires of hell. Too personal, and way, way too intense, especially for someone he had just met… no matter just how true it was.

Hello Maddy, you look nice today. Compliments could work but he would have to drop the name because, like the idiot he was, he had still forgotten to introduce himself and he absolutely not going to reveal to her just how he learned her name without being introduced. Although he knew her surname; that was a plus.

Good morning, Miss Shannon…

Miss Shannon. Mark smiled to himself as he quickened his pace. It was perfect. Personal without being invasive, polite though somewhat charming, just like the novels his mother used to read… at least he hoped it was. Maybe it was one of those things that sounded way better in his head but… her house was directly in front of him now, and he was out of time to consider more options.

Never before had the prospect of knocking on a door seemed so daunting to him. Mark stared at it as if it were some foreboding object, a lump forming in the back of his throat as reality suddenly reminded him that it was an ungodly hour, and all sane people were probably still asleep.

Madelyn was probably safe and sound, tucking into her bed on the floor.

Disheartened by this revelation, Mark groaned to himself at his own stupidity, and turned his heel to leave. What had he been thinking? The sun itself had only just risen, how on earth could he have expected her to be awake right now? Even his alarm had yet to go off to remind him he had to be at work soon, and it usually took him less than eight minutes to get ready and report to his station.

Mark rubbed at his face and he left her porch, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he trudged away with his shoulders hunched. He froze in place suddenly, however, when he heard a shuffling behind him as well as the distinctive sound of a door opening and closing.

Peering over his shoulder, Mark felt his eyes widen involuntarily at the sight of James Shannon exiting the house. Oh hell. He had not really interacted with the man, save for a brief encounter last night when Mark had been thanked for watching over Madelyn and Zoe while he and Mrs. Shannon had been off the colony to retrieve their wayward son.

Yet that was all it took for Mark to become afraid of the man.

Jim Shannon certainly seemed like a nice guy, and honestly, had had yet to do anything to instill such a fear… but he just had this vibe. Mark could not explain it, but when Mr. Shannon had shook his hand last night he had the distinctive feeling that he was being sized up by the man.

It was as if all of his past indiscretions and mistakes had all been laid bare for scrutiny, and he was absolutely sure that Mr. Shannon knew. He just knew that Mark was interested in his daughter. So, yeah, Mr. Shannon had been on the list of people he would like to avoid first thing in the morning but now… well, simply put: he was screwed.

Mark turned reluctantly, giving the older man a hesitant smile that probably looked more like a grimace. "Hello, Mr. Shannon," he greeted, inwardly wincing at just how weak his voice sounded. That combined with his timid stance probably made him seem pathetic, and wasn't that just a great way to make an impression on her father?

"Hi," Mr. Shannon replied, his voice puzzled. "You were here last night, with my girls." It was not a question, though Mark nodded anyway. "… Reynolds, right?"

Mark swallowed his nerves. "Yes, sir,"

Mr. Shannon frowned, studying him dissecting eyes. "What are you doing here now?"

Mark's eyes widened at the inquiry. Uh oh… He had never been more petrified of answering a question in his life. He could lie and say it was a coincidence. No, wait… he couldn't lie. Mr. Shannon was a lawman and he would know that he was lying to him. What a great way to endear himself to the man; lying to him the first time they ever have a conversation.

"I… uh," Mark cleared his throat nervously. "I came to see how your daughter—daughters," he corrected quickly, paling when he noticed the narrowing of critical eyes. "How your daughters… were holding up after last night. She—they, they were pretty upset with everything that was happening…. sir,"

At every floundered word Mr. Shannon's eyebrows raised a fraction, and by the end of his explanation, they had practically risen to his hairline, leaving his forehead in wrinkles. Mark closed his eyes briefly in embarrassment as he awaited the man's judgment, his stomach in knots and a nervous sweat trickling down his neck.

"Okay," Mr. Shannon said, drawing out the word for a long moment as he scratched the back of his head. His eyes revealed nothing, though he jerked his head back slightly toward the closed door behind him. "Everyone is asleep at the moment," Of course they were. "Except for my oldest daughter,"

Mark was sure the man noticed the sudden straitening of his spine. "I…"

Mr. Shannon did not allow him to reply, cutting him off with a disarming smile. "She will probably be out in a minute, but I have to leave right now to meet Lieutenant Guzman." His smile tightened nearly imperceptibly. "He's issuing me my very own firearm today."

Mark had the inexplicable urge to take a hasty step away, his eyes widening in alarm. He wondered if there was a veiled threat behind the casually spoken words. He certainly felt threatened by them, especially when Mr. Shannon moved forward and clapped his back almost jovially as he passed him, wincing with shock as the hand came into contact with sharply with his rigid shoulder.

"See you later, kid,"

Mark could not bring himself to say anything in return, watching with wide eyes as he departed. Holy shit… He exhaled a ragged breath, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes as he tried to remember how to breathe. His heart was racing, pounding a fierce rhythm against his ribs.

Was he afraid of Mr. Shannon? Nope.

Mark was absolutely not scared of Jim Shannon—there were no words to describe how freaking terrified he was of the man. Every single word the man had spoken was now ingrained into his memory, and he was horrified to realize that he would probably be seeing a lot more of Mr. Shannon if he continued to pursue his daughter.

Could he really continue to be around her knowing that Mr. Shannon would be there at every turn, possibly with a deadly weapon in hand should he accidently break her heart—not that he would ever, ever, break her heart.

Damn right he could.

Mark steadied his breaths, gripping the sides of his head as he forced himself to calm down. Mr. Shannon said she would be out shortly, and looking as if he were on the verge of passing out was not the image he wanted to present himself to her. He resolutely climbed the steps, straightening out his shirt as he rolled the tenseness from his shoulders.

Good morning, Miss Shannon.

Four words, all he had to do was say four simple words to her once she opened the door. He repeated them to himself several times over; he even tested them in various ways as he waited for her to make an appearance. He could begin an entire conversation with her as long as he kept his opening simple, and he had to remember to smile at her, keep his voice even and calm, and not squeaky like he was going through puberty again.

Mark looked up as he heard footsteps beyond the door. He watched it open in anticipation, and smiled slightly when he caught a glimpse of her. She was looking behind her when she emerged, pulling the door shut as she walked through the threshold, and not ahead of her where she could see that he was standing directly in her path.

Madelyn walked directly into his chest, and his mind blanked as he felt her lips come into contact with the skin above the collar of his shirt.

It took less than a second for his body to go completely ridged, his arms instinctively catching her around her middle as she stumbled from the unexpected wall he created. Her hair was a bit damp, strongly fragranced with the herbal remedies that substituted shampoo, and he inhaled the scent of it as he held her against him.

Oh… this is nice.

A small gasp reached his ears much too soon, and though he was sorely tempted to keep her right where she was, he allowed her to pull away from him. Her cheeks were flushed red, dark brown eyes gazing up at him with shock as she absently licked her lips, a completely innocent gesture that he followed with his eyes until he realized what he was doing.

"Oh my gosh!" she breathed out, and he was disappointed to watch her eyes be hidden beneath her eyelids as she began to stutter out an apology. "I am… that was… I didn't mean… I just wasn't looking where I was going! I walked, and then you were there, and I am so… I swear I didn't know you were there…"

Mark felt his smile return as he listened to her apologize for literally running into him but if only instant replay buttons worked in real life, because he really wanted her back in his arms. He tilted his head curiously as she suddenly fell silent, and tried to remember what he had wanted to say to her, because 'you smell good' was absolutely not appropriate… however true it may have been.

"Hello," Madelyn greeted him quietly, shifting her weight as she peered up at him through her eyelashes, and whoa; she had pretty eyelashes. Were eyelashes even supposed to be pretty? Or maybe it was the way her brown eyes seemed to shift color in the morning rays of sunlight, those dark lashes framing her eyes and bringing out the sudden amber streaks.

Four words, Mark had to remind himself.

"Good morning, Miss Shannon," he replied steadily, feeling proud for the way his voice had not even wavered in the slightest. He watched with growing fascination as the redness in her cheeks became more prominent at his greeting, wondering what he had said exactly to make her blush like that.

"Good morning," she said softly, her eyes darting to the side as she bit down on her lip. Madelyn seemed lost in thought, and he loathed interrupting her musings but he was very aware that the minutes were ticking by and he would soon have to leave. He wanted a chance to talk to her some more before he left after all.

"Are you going somewhere…" he asked her curiously.

Madelyn blinked up at him with those bright amber streaked eyes, and a small smile lit her face. "Yes," she said. "I noticed yesterday that there are various pathways throughout the entire facility, and my plan is to go down one every morning and just kind of get my bearings." Her smile grew, and she began gesturing with her hands animatedly. "There is just so much to look at, and I'm sure that if I go down at least one path a day, then I should know my way around pretty well by the time we begin classes next week. So I just… um…"

Mark lifted his eyebrows in question as she fell silent, wondering why she had stopped. He liked listening to her talk. Her voice always ended up slightly breathless when she was speaking, and he knew she was full of a nervous energy to explore just by the way she spoke of her surroundings.

"Sorry," she said quietly, her arms wrapping around her middle unconsciously. "Sometimes my mouth works faster than my brain does—which is redundant considering that my brain controls my speech—and innocent bystanders end up with an overload of information they probably already know, or just don't want to hear." She winched, concluding, "As you learned already, with the long-winded explanation on brachiosaurus dietary habits I gave you yesterday."

Mark barely caught himself before he could reveal that had she not beaten him to it yesterday, he would have given her an even longer explanation on their dietary habits riddled with countless scientific facts that he had already forgotten by this morning. But thankfully he reigned in the urge, because as far as he was concerned, she would never know of his humiliation at his failed attempt to impress her.

Instead Mark smiled slowly, stepping off of her porch. "Don't worry about it," he assured her. "Which path were you planning on taking?" He watched as she shut the door that had been left open during her near fall, and she slowly followed him down the steps. He allowed himself a brief grin of success as he casually maneuvered himself directly beside her.

"Honestly," Madelyn shrugged in reply. "I have no idea if any of these pathways have names, like street addresses or not, but the one with the purple flowers planted around those large green bushes looked like it might have some very interesting flora to observe."

Flora? Did that mean flowers? He watched her from the corner of his eye, wondering if perhaps he should buy himself a dictionary in order not to make himself seem as ignorant as he really was.

"Eventually I hope to record and catalog all the different forms of plant life in Terra Nova in my science journals," she added thoughtfully, a curious frown forming between her brows. "Do you know how many different forms of flowers there are in this time period? Or other forms of vegetation, like fruits or vegetables?"

"Not really," he answered, relieved when that seemed to be the right response.

"Exactly," Madelyn said with a wide grin. "No one really does. Everything that grows in this region is probably completely different when compared to something growing somewhere else. Do you know if they go out often to collect samples from foreign territories? Because that would be wonderful; imagine everything they could find out there."

Mark smiled as he watched her shake her head with a look akin to awe on her face. He was about to answer her, when he noticed a certain glint in her eye, and kept silent. His grin widened when she continued not more than a second later.

"There is so much to experience!" she said with excitement. "Are the fruits here very good? What about the vegetables? I know that Hope Plaza sent a few things through from the other side for us to cultivate, but what about the native fruits? Do you know how long we have to stay on the enzyme shakes? Because all the orientation people said was that it would take a while for our bodies to adjust to the unprocessed and non-synthesized food here…"

"Usually people are weaned off of the protein shakes after a week," he told her, spotting the path she had mentioned just ahead. He was smug when he realized that instead of looking at the flowers she had seemed so interested in, she was staring up at him with rapt attention. "Some of the mild solid foods are gradually introduced, and by next week you should be able to eat anything without making yourself sick."

Unless Guzman takes over survival training, he added with an inward grimace. That man took a cruel amusement into teaching his students how to survive off of bugs the minute they no longer had to consume the protein shakes that were provided for all new arrivals.

"There are a variety of fruits and vegetables that we harvest, and some are better than others," Mark said. He usually only ate fruit when Alicia bought it for him, and he tried to avoid eating anything green or orange as if his life depended on it.

Chocolate came from a plant right? He ate plenty of that. In fact he had a stash of chocolate bars in a box in his house that he indulged in daily. But chocolate was not native to the area, it was something they had brought through the time facture to grow. Sadly he had little knowledge of the foods he overlooked in the orchards each week.

"It depends on your preferences," Mark shrugged helplessly. "And the science division goes on routine expeditions for new plant life several times a week. They also have several research stations out on six month rotations, and they usually haul in some interesting things when they return."

"Thank you,"

Mark glanced at her in surprise at her abrupt words.

"For yesterday, I mean," Madelyn elaborated, looking down at her feet and she brought her hands together. "You have been so great, and you have no idea how much I appreciate it all. Everything, from being nice to Zoe, to what happened in the market with those people waving their weapons around—even if that was probably unintentional—" She frowned a bit, and he opened his mouth to tell her that it was not unintentional, that he had actually been searching her out, but her last whisper silenced him. "—and then last night…"

Mark inhaled deeply, feeling both elated and helpless all at once. He was glad that she appreciated his company, especially since he had slowly been convincing himself that he was overstepping every time he was in her presence, but at the same time, he despised hearing the despondency in her voice.

It gnawed at it insides, and he gently caught her arm so that she stopped, glancing up at him. Before he could think of something to say, something that might make her melancholy disappear, she peered up at him and continued quietly.

"Zoe was only a little bit scared last night, and it was probably all my fault," she admitted shyly. "She was less upset about what was happening than she was about my impending meltdown. I was so close to completely freaking out, and if you hadn't shown up when you had, I would have probably just broken down into tears because my brother is a reckless moron who is apparently trying to scare me to death and…"

Mark frowned in concern as her voice wavered, and he absently began to circle his thumb against her inner forearm and he shushed her gently. "I understand," he assured her. "Don't worry about it." She still had an air of uncertainty around her, and, feeling daring, he slid his hand into hers and gave it a squeeze. "It was an upsetting situation, and I'm only glad I could help."

Madelyn studied him, and he smiled gently as she nodded her head in return. He took a hesitant step forward, consciously leaving his hand around hers, and he released a breath when she made no move to withdraw from his grasp. She was letting him hold her hand.

It was a very gratifying experience, knowing that she was allowing him to guide her as he continued to walk down another path, this one of his own choosing. Her earlier questions had proved she kindled an interest in the flowers and the trees. He may not know the names of the plants, and he may not have truly appreciated the aesthetic appeal of them before, but he roamed the fields often during his patrols and he knew of an old observation tower that was usually abandoned during this time of the year.

Therefore Mark led the way, hoping she would be pleased with the view the higher elevation would afford her. "This is one of the observation decks," he said, drawing her to a stop in front of the wooden stairs. He allowed her to go first, though kept his hold on her, unwilling to release her just yet.

Mark smiled as he watched her reaction carefully, noticing her sharp inhale the moment they reached the top of the platform. He led her closer to the railing and her eyes were glued out into the scene below. He had to admit, it was a much more impressive sight from up here than it was walking through it. He wondered what it was she saw in the stalks of plants and the leaves that he couldn't.

"It's so beautiful…" she said, though her voice was so soft that he had nearly missed her word entirely. She was too immersed in the view, and he shuffled closer.

"You mentioned the plants we cultivate… some of these are things we brought through, and the rest are native plants that we grow here in our botanical gardens. Each section grows certain things, such as the one below," He gestured. "It's mainly medicinal herbs that the infirmary uses to treat patients." He watched as she took everything in for a long moment, smiling slowly as he noticed the amazed gleam in her eye. "I thought you might like this."

"Before we came through the time fracture," Madelyn began quietly, and he bit his lip when he registered the sad tinged to her tone. "The only plants I had ever seen were the ones in archives or books. How could humanity take something as beautiful and pure as this… and pollute it into what it was?"

To be honest Mark never really thought much about it. He could scarcely recall anything about the future he had left behind, despite that he had been old enough to remember at least some things. He could remember his grandfather.

Most childhood memories were centered on the withered old man and his scruffy beard, who used to let Mark pretend that he was an accountant just like him.

Admittedly Mark knew his life before Terra Nova had been more privileged than others. His family, while not rich by the society standards of the future was certainly well off enough to own a comfortable house in a hyperbaric dome.

Mark had grown up within an oxygen enriched environment, his mother had even her own business dealing with vegetables, and since even just the seeds were expensive, a whole greenhouse was so rare that people must have paid a fortune for a single gift basket she prepared. Here it took less than a few terras to buy enough produce to last a week.

Madelyn could have lived in a dome but he doubted that was the case. He could see the way she watched the tall grass ripple as the morning breeze wafted through it, and she swallowed several times as she quickly wiped at her eyes. She had never seen grass before, she had never seen trees like this, standing tall and reaching for the sky even with heavy burdens of fruit weighing the branches down.

It was a new experience for her, and it affected her greatly.

Mark could not stand the sound of her shuddering breaths, and slowly raised his hands to her soft face, his palms resting against her cheeks as he used the pads of his thumbs to catch her tears. He was concerned, and he had to qualms about letting it show. He may not see what she sees in the world but she was affecting him just as much as the view had affected her.

"Maybe people just didn't realize just how beautiful the world around them was," he mused quietly, guilty of that himself. He had never cared… until now. He stared into her eyes, hoping he could soothe the hurt in her eyes. "Perhaps they needed more people like you to point it out to them."

Madelyn tilted her head up, probably an unconscious gesture due to their new proximity, her eyes shining and bright and he knew he had to stop himself from bending down to meet her lips with his own. He had promised himself that he would take his time and get to know her before he made any advances.

Allowing himself to kiss her right now while she was clearly upset would not only breaking that promise to himself… it would also be taking advantage of her. Therefore he was relieved when he heard the sharp beeping from his wrist, the alarm causing him to come back to himself.

Mark lowered his hands from her face with reluctance, and silenced the alarm. He had a few minutes to walk to his post, and sign in for a long day of watching security footage, as he was still on desk duty until his superior allowed him to patrol. He looked back up at her, giving her an apologetic smile.

"My shift is about to start." he told her, and Madelyn nodded slowly in return. "Can you find your way back?" He had led her here after all, and she had seemed a bit preoccupied at the time.

"I'll be fine," she assured him.

Mark wondered if she realized that her tone had not been very convincing. She must have sensed his reluctance to leave, because a moment later she smiled. It was almost like a physical blow to the gut; because her smiles were always so genuine, lighting up her eyes with an inner joy that shown as brightly as staring into the sun itself.

It was probably not something she was even aware she was doing but he knew that she was just smiling to smile. Not because she was happy… and that made all the difference. He could distinguish it easily, and he supposed he could finally reconcile her to the girl he had seen in the photograph in her file.

Madelyn Shannon was still a mystery despite how open she was.

"Better get to work," she said with a small wave of her hand, and he found his sudden distress vanishing as her smile morphing into something more genuine as she concluded, "Mister Reynolds…"

Mark smiled slowly in return, enjoying the way she had spoken his name. She had turned it back around on him, and it made him feel giddy. "Have a good day, Miss Shannon."

Hello everyone.

As most of you have probably guessed, I have been having some difficulty with the next chapter of Enchanted. It was supposed to be posted way back in November, but unfortunately, I'm a bit stuck with it even though I know exactly how I want it to go. Therefore I hope that working on this for a while will help me get through it. A major shout out to the amazing bellakitse, who gave me the inspired idea to work on something else for the time being until I can bet past the brick wall I met with the next chapter of Enchanted.

Hope you all liked it!