The title of this collection comes from Emily Dickinson's poem of the same name.

I have a bunch of older short pieces that I like, but don't feel like they deserve their own fic, so I'm collecting them here. Some of them are early versions of other stories, where I ultimately went in another direction, but I still like some of the basic ideas. I'll be going through the old files periodically, cleaning up, and adding here, so sit back, take them for what they are, and enjoy.

I debated long and hard about posting this first one as a second chapter to "Sitting in a Tree" but...I'm so happy with the base story as it was, and I really loved the sweetness of it, and I'm just not sure this fits. I've rewritten it several times. I tried it in Eep's POV, I tried it in Guy's, and I guess I like it okay for what it is, but I just can't make myself put it on that story. It tipped a little too far towards steamy for that. Adrenaline and hormones, yay.

This takes place pretty shortly after everyone runs down the hill to the beach.

Guy didn't really know what he'd expected to feel or think when he got here. Relieved, maybe, and on some level he knew he was, even though he couldn't seem to feel it the way he should. Happy – well, he was happy too, although right now happiness and relief were too closely tied to separate.

Maybe he was just still riding the high that came with being alive after a day that had done everything in its power to kill you. It didn't usually come this quietly, for him. Usually it was a feeling of invincibility, a sense that there was no such thing as impossible, and it gave him a burst of energy, determination, and inspiration that either resulted in some brilliant solution to an obstacle that he hadn't thought of before, or a lot of really energetic pacing and babbling that he couldn't remember later.

But here he sat, having done the impossible, with no real problems to solve and no obstacles at hand, and the unused energy seemed to hum just below his skin, making him feel fuzzy and disconnected instead of sharper, faster, stronger.

He sat with his back against a tree at the very edge of the jungle, where it gave way to the white sand of the beach, his elbows propped up on his knees, letting his head rest back against the trunk. He'd come here to try and sort out his thoughts, but neither thought nor feeling would come. He just sat there, feeling oddly removed from everything, watching the waves roll in on the beach.

"Hey."

Startled, he looked up. Eep crouched on a branch above him, grinning. Guy grinned back.

"Hey."

She flipped out of the tree, landing with a puff of sand a few feet in front of him. She straightened and studied him, hands on her hips.

"I can go if you'd rather be alone," she said.

"No," he said quickly. "No, I've been alone long enough."

She came to him and sat down between his knees, her back to him. "Um," he said cautiously, glancing around. "Where's your dad?"

Eep twisted to smile at him. "He and Mom went off together." Her grin turned to a smirk. "I don't think we'll be seeing them for a while."

Guy's mouth made a silent "oh" as he took her meaning. Eep turned back to watch the beach, wrapping her arms around her knees. "It's beautiful here," she said.

"Yeah," Guy agreed, but his eyes were on the muscles of her shoulders and back. He'd always had a clinical, practical interest in understanding how muscles worked and how they fit together, but watching Eep move inspired appreciation on an entirely different level.

He lifted his hands and put them on her shoulders, squeezing lightly. He brushed his thumbs across her skin and the energy humming in him coalesced like lightening striking a tree, and suddenly the mist was gone and he could feel again, and what he felt was sharp, intense, and aching.

Oblivious, Eep unfolded and leaned back against him. Hardly breathing, Guy put his arms around her, crossing his arms across her chest and resting his hands back on her shoulders. "Is it as good as you hoped?" she asked him, and he was so distracted by his pounding heart and her warm body against him that it took him a moment to figure out what she was talking about.

Oh. Right. Only his life's mission. His dream, his paradise. He glanced at the clear blue-green water, the white sand, and then he looked back at the freckled curve of her cheek, just visible as she turned her face slightly towards him to catch his answer.

"Better," he said. He turned his head towards her slightly and his nose brushed her ear. He couldn't help a smile as a hot flush colored her neck and the curve of her cheek. He hovered a moment, and then lowered his face to the crook of her neck and breathed in deeply. His sense of smell wasn't as acute as hers but he still wanted this, wanted her scent fixed in his mind. The smell of fire and ash still clung to her, a reminder of how close it had been.

"We almost didn't make it," Guy said, his lips brushing her skin as he spoke. He tightened his arms around her. They had been so close. For a terrible moment, he'd lost all hope.

"We did make it," she reminded him, reaching up to cover his hand with her own. He sighed onto her neck and she shivered. He ran the tip of his nose slowly from her shoulder up her neck as he inhaled her scent again. It wasn't enough. He brushed his lips against her neck.

She almost leapt out of his arms.

"Don't go," he said quickly, tightening his hold on her. "Please. I'm sorry, I just-" His voice trembled suddenly. "It was almost all over. We didn't make it and we were as good as dead." Eep put her hand over his again. "After all that I just-I want-" He hesitated, because he what he really wanted was a bad idea for so many reasons.

"Guy, it's okay," she said gently. "You just startled me." She blushed. "No one's ever touched me like that before."

"Sorry," he said, relaxing some.

"Don't be," she said, glancing over her shoulder at him. "I liked it." Eep settled back against him then and he tried to concentrate on just breathing as he held her. It took a few more minutes of silence for them to ease back into the comfortable feeling they'd had before.

But it wasn't enough, and after a very few more minutes, he turned his head to nuzzle her ear again. Eep's only answer was to angle her head, giving him better access to her neck. He took a slow breath. She held perfectly still as he slowly lowered his head. He stopped just short of touching her.

"Tell me to stop and I will," Guy said.

"Don't stop," she told him, and a tremor went through him. It was an effort to be gentle as he brushed his lips just below the hinge of her jaw, and then at the curve where her neck met her shoulder, and then pressed into the peak of her shoulder. He brought one hand up and ran his fingertips lightly down her throat. His other arm dropped and slipped under hers to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer against him.

She hummed in pleasure as he stroked her throat again and pressed a kiss into her jaw, and the sound made him shiver again. He had never been this close to another person, never touched anyone like this, never felt anything so intense as her skin under his lips and hands. His fingers slid away, along her collarbone and up over her shoulder, then tracing the line of the muscles in her arm. She turned her palm up and let him run his fingers run over it, and back down the big veins in her wrist, up over the curve of muscles on the inside of her arm. "You're so strong," he murmured, fascinated.

He could see the corner of her smile right before she flexed. Muscles popped under his hands and the sound he made then was almost a growl. She looked over her shoulder at him and grinned.

He bent his head to her neck again, kissing harder, more urgently this time. She let her head fall back on his shoulder, closing her eyes. It wasn't enough.

He dropped his hand from her arm to squeeze her muscular thigh, his thumb brushing the hem of her dress.

"Whoa," she gasped, lurching off him and grabbing his hand.

"Sorry," he panted, moving it away.

"Sorry, I just—" she started to apologize, twisting in his arms to face him. "I mean, I don't—uh—" He put his fingertips over her lips.

"You said no," he said, trying to smile, but his gaze was fixed on her mouth and the feel of her lips under his fingers was deeply distracting. "That's all you have to say." He moved his hand from her lips to cup her cheek and he kissed her.

Eep leaned into him, her embarrassment apparently forgotten. He made a small noise as her hands splayed on his chest, and kissed her again, and again. It wasn't enough. He moved slightly to glide his tongue against her lower lip. She froze.

He pulled back slightly. "Tell me to stop and I will," he reminded her, speaking against her lips.

"Don't stop," she murmured. "Show me." She didn't wait for him, putting her mouth back on his, and sliding her tongue along his lip.

"Mmm." He pulled back slightly to look at her. "I should probably remind you I've never done this before," he said, suddenly nervous. "I know the theory, but, um..."

"What's a theory?" she asked, and he smiled.

"I'll tell you later. I'm just saying, it might take us both some practice. Don't hold it against me."

Eep looked at him a moment, and then shrugged. "Show me."

He did his very best. As he'd told her, his knowledge of kissing was much more theoretical than practical, but there was nothing like experimentation to prove a theory, and no better way to build a skill than by practice. More than once they broke apart giggling, wiping their mouths after a particularly awkward attempt.

Somehow, the companionable fumbling, the shared laughter, cooled his burning need to something more manageable. Not that it didn't feel good, and when it went right it felt much better than good, but their mutual inexperience reminded him that there was more at stake here than the heat under his skin. They'd known each other for barely a week, neither of them had much experience with the opposite sex, and the intensity of the whole situation around them hadn't exactly been any kind of a proof of what their relationship would be like on a "normal" day.

It occurred to him, for the first time, that he was no longer living his life on a time limit. He finally had all the time in the world. No more running. He broke from Eep, holding her back when she tried to kiss him again. For a moment, he just looked at her, lips reddened and puffy, eyes dreamy, hair mussed. A smile spread across his face as he smoothed her hair.

"What?" she asked, breathless.

"We made it," he said softly. "We really did."

She smiled. "We did."

He kissed her again, slowly, taking in her scent and her taste and the feel of her lips, the flutter of her eyelashes against his cheek, the way she moved with him, the catch of her breath.

All the time in the world.

It just might be enough.