Collinwood, 1972

The sunset was spectacular. Brilliant crimsons met gold, and subtly blended into purple, then black. The midsummer breeze was warm, gently stirring the hair of the middle-aged couple seated on a bench overlooking the sea far below. The dying sun behind them tinged the waters a fleeting gold before it sunk to the horizon, leaving the sea to echo the blackness of the evening sky.

The couple spoke with the quiet intimacy that only long acquaintance or shared experiences can bring. At first glance one would assume them married - the love and devotion each bore for the other was clearly evident to all who knew them, in the small ways love evidences itself - the touch of a hand to emphasize a point, admiring glances made when the other was unaware. But, as is often the way with love, the man and woman were each unaware of the devotion of the other, and unwilling to admit feelings that may not be returned. So they talked of trivial things - the sunset, her work, his family, until at last, with a deep breath, the man spoke in a more serious vein.

"Julia," he said quietly, "I have decided to go away from here."

She was first puzzled, then stricken as the implications of what he was saying sunk in. "Go away?" she asked. "Where would you go?" She paused and lowered her eyes to her hands in her lap. "For how long?"

"I don't know," he replied. "In the five years I have been in this time, I have remained here, in Maine. I wish to see more of this world in which I now find myself - to see for myself how it has changed in almost two hundred years."

She swallowed, her gaze still fixed on her slim fingers which were now clutched tightly together in an effort to stop their sudden trembling. "Of course, Barnabas," she said quietly. "I'll make sure Willie looks after the Old House while you're gone. If you like I'll -"

He turned to her and used a gentle finger under her chin so he could see her face. Her large, beautifully expressive green eyes were bright with unshed tears she tried valiantly to hide. A lone tear made its way down her cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb.

"Come with me," he said with a quiet intensity.

She gasped and struggled to find the words. "Go with you? But I thought -"

"That I was going alone? I told you once, 'never without you'. I meant it then, and more than ever, I mean it now. You've become a very important part of my life, Julia. How could I leave without you?" Barnabas took her hands in his and kissed them. "Come with me," he urged quietly.

Her mind was whirling with details, excuses. "But Wyndcliffe - I'd have to take a leave of absence, and I've already been away so long - and the passports, and -"

"Shh," he said gently. "Those are but small things that will work themselves out. Please, say you'll accompany me?"

The last was said almost as a plea, and Julia realized with a leap of her heart just how much this meant to him, and how necessary her presence was to his happiness.

She smiled, and Barnabas knew her acceptance before she voiced the words. He pulled her to him in a tight embrace. "Thank you, Julia," he murmured.

His breath was warm in her ear and caused her to tremble again, but this time not in fear. She pulled back slightly to see him, and her breath stopped when she beheld the tender expression on his face. He held her gaze for a moment, then lowered his head and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

* * * * *

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of activities. Julia arranged for another psychiatrist to take over her position at Wyndcliffe while she took an indefinite leave of absence.

She renewed her passport, which had lapsed in the five years she had been at Collinsport. Acquiring a passport for someone who was born more than two hundred years before proved more of a challenge. However, through ingenuity, some of Willie Loomis' less-than-savoury acquaintances, and liberal doses of hard cash, they managed to obtain what they sought.

They decided on the Orient. Barnabas had been to England and the Caribbean, but two hundred years ago travel to the Far East was prohibitively difficult and not undertaken lightly.

Julia made the travel arrangements in her usual, efficient manner. They were to fly from Boston to Los Angeles, then change to another airline for the thirty-hour flight to Bangkok, Thailand.

Willie would stay on at the Old House to look after the place.

There had been several parties given by well-wishers who wished to bid them farewell. The largest had been given by Elizabeth Collins Stoddard, who wished to say farewell to her cousin and his companion, who had also become a close friend to her.

At last, it was time for Willie to drive them to the Boston airport. As he accompanied them to the departure gate, he added one last admonition to the several he had insisted on issuing during the drive.

"You be careful, Barnabas." Willie gripped Barnabas' arm in emphasis. "There's that war goin' on over there. Ya never know what'll happen."

Barnabas removed Willie's hand from his arm and held it warmly.

"I will, old friend. Thank you - for everything."

Willie turned to Julia. "You too, Julia. I know you, you bein' a doctor an' all - ya won't be able to just leave things alone. I'm tellin' ya - watch out for yourself - and him too."

Julia smiled and gave Willie a hug. She kissed him on the cheek, then stepped away. "Don't worry, Willie. We'll be careful."

A last round of farewells and handshakes, and at last they left Willie at the gates to the departure lounge.

Barnabas and Julia settled themselves into their seats in the first class section of the plane. Barnabas had the window seat because he had never flown before, and was looking forward to seeing the earth from above.

As the plane took off, however, Barnabas went pale and a thin sheen of sweat broke out on his face. He gulped back a surge of nausea and clutched the armrests.

"Julia," he said in a tight, strained voice, "something is wrong. I suddenly feel very ill."

She looked over at him and gasped in concern. His face was deathly white. She felt his forehead and was astonished to find him running a high fever.

"We can't ask the pilot to turn around," she told him. "This is a direct flight to Los Angeles. We'll be in the plane for six hours. Do you think you can hold on that long?"

He shook his head and suppressed a groan of misery. "I don't think so - we're still climbing, and it seems the higher we go, the worse I feel."

Julia reached for her medical bag, which she had brought on board and stashed under the seat in front of her.

"I'm going to give you a sedative. You'll still be ill, but at least you'll be able to sleep through it." She also gave him a widely-sold anti-nauseant.

While they waited for the sedative to take effect, they reflected on the cause of his sudden illness.

"This isn't like any cause of flying phobia I've ever seen," Julia mused. "You were never afraid, and it's not an anxiety attack."

"No," he agreed. "It happened the minute the plane's wheels left the ground. I wonder -" He swallowed back another wave of nausea. "- if this is some kind of remnant of my curse." He lowered his voice so the people in front of them couldn't hear. "As a vampire, my life was tied to the earth. I was on my native soil. Even though I have been cured, I must still be -" He trailed off as the sedative took effect and he lapsed into sleep.

Julia asked for a pillow and blanket from the stewardess and made him more comfortable, then sat back to consider what he had said.

It made sense, in a bizarre way. But then, what could be more bizarre than a two hundred year old ex-vampire? Vampires depended on the earth, were in part nourished by it. It sustained them. In her research during her efforts to cure Barnabas of his affliction, she had run across mention of a much older vampire who was even able to appear in sunlight, as long as he lined his shoes with his native earth. Barnabas had been unwilling to risk an experiment to prove this, and had instead put his trust in the cure she was effecting.

What would happen if you took a vampire and deprived him of any contact with the earth? Barnabas was human again, and cured of his affliction. If flight affected him this badly, then to a vampire - could it be fatal?

She felt herself starting to doze off. As she fell asleep she slipped sideways so her head came to rest on Barnabas' shoulder.

* * * * *

She was awakened by the stewardess, who told her they were beginning their descent to Los Angeles. Julia made sure Barnabas' seat belt was still fastened then touched her hand to his forehead and was relieved to feel his temperature was starting to come down. As the plane's wheels touched the ground Barnabas began to stir.

They waited until all the passengers had disembarked. By this time he was fully alert, and only feeling mild discomfort from his in-flight illness.

They decided that continuing their flight to Bangkok was out of the question. Six hours was bad enough - but thirty?

"Surely there are other means of transport," he asked her. "Are people in such a hurry these days that they no longer travel by ship?"

"A ship! Barnabas, that's it! Cruise ships stop in Los Angeles all the time. We should be able to find one just starting its trans-Pacific voyage."

They booked themselves into the Beverly Hills Hilton, into adjoining rooms which were connected by a shared bathroom.

After they were settled, Julia set about the task of firstly retrieving their luggage, and secondly, finding a cruise ship that would take them across the ocean.

There was a ship, the Estrela Esmeralda, which was due to berth in Los Angeles the following week. However, it was booked solid. The only room available was the Royal Suite. Julia paled when she was told the fare, but Barnabas merely took out his chequebook and wrote a cheque for the exorbitant price. He shushed her objections with a raised hand and a gentle smile.

"The money means nothing to me," he told her. "I have more than enough to meet our needs. And if it means not getting on another plane -" He shuddered at the memory. "I will pay whatever they ask."

While they waited for their ship, they had time for shopping and sightseeing. They went shopping on Rodeo Drive to replace the clothing which was still missing in their wayward luggage. Also, Julia explained, they'd need a more varied wardrobe for a cruise ship.

At his query of why, she explained that cruise ships did more than simply carry passengers from place to place as the ships did in his youth. Cruise ships were a vacation in themselves, and were actually floating resorts, with nightclubs, restaurants, leisure and recreational facilities, pools, shops and more.

* * * * *

The Royal Suite was even more elaborate than Julia expected. It was a two-bedroom suite on an upper deck. The two bedrooms opened onto a large sitting room. There was also a bath, with a tub that would have done a Roman emperor proud. The sitting room was decorated in blues and golds, with tasteful artwork in gilt frames on the walls. The bedrooms were enormous, each having a king-sized bed. The windows were huge and totally private. The outside passenger walkway ended at the door to the suite. There was also a door that opened on an interior hallway in case of inclement weather.

* * * * *

Julia was asleep on a deck chair. Face down on her stomach was a psychiatric journal she had insisted on bringing. Barnabas smiled fondly as he watched her for several minutes. He noted that the restful travel was having a healthful effect on her - there was a healthy glow in her cheeks, and her face was no longer as gaunt as it had been before their departure. The rest had done her a world of good.

As carefully as he could, he removed the journal and replaced it with an inexpensive paperback book he had found in one of the book stores. His hand lingered on hers in a tiny caress, then he straightened and settled himself in the chair next to hers where he could observe her.

When she woke later, she stared in puzzlement at the book in her hands. It was a volume of sonnets by William Shakespeare. When she opened it she found a note, written in the ornate copperplate handwriting of two hundred years ago:

"Shakespeare said it better than I ever could. Read Sonnet XXX.-B"

She turned to Sonnet XXX and began to read.

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear times' waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unus'd to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restor'd and sorrows end.

As she absorbed the poem, tears welled in her eyes and a lump formed in her throat. She knew only too well the agonies he had suffered in the time she had come to know him.

She glanced around and found him in the chair beside hers. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be asleep. "Barnabas?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. It touched me more than you could know."

He opened his eyes at last, then lazily reached into the breast pocket of his sports jacket and fished out her psych journal.

"Still want to read this?" he asked, his eyes crinkling with humour as he handed it to her.

* * * * *

That night they found themselves in a bar where a fifties revival group was playing. They sat at their table for several numbers, not trying to talk over the din, and simply watched the gyrations of the crowd on the dance floor. After observing for a while, Barnabas rose and extended his hand.

"Would you care to dance?" He had to shout over the loud music.

"To this?" She shook her head. "I can't. I never -"

He took her hand in his. "I never have either. Come, we'll learn together."

In an astonishingly short period of time, they were not only doing the twist, but Barnabas had her twirling and doing the more intricate jive movements as well. He led her skillfully, with a natural grace.

Then the band changed pace, and broke into a rendition of "Unchained Melody".

Oh, my love, my darling, I've hungered for your touch a long, lonely time.
Time goes by so slowly and time can do so much, Are You Still Mine?
I need your love, I need your love, God speed your love to me!

He pulled her close to him and they began a slow waltz. As the song went on, their steps slowed until they were barely moving on the dance floor. Julia snuggled closer and rested her head against his broad chest, closing her eyes and swaying gently to the music. Time seemed to slow, and the world seemed to narrow until they were the only ones in it. She was acutely aware of every aspect of him - the scent of his cologne, his warm, strong arms enclosing her in their gentle embrace, and the slight tremble which seemed to vibrate through his whole body, as if there was some powerful emotion he strove to hold in check.

Barnabas ran his hand down Julia's cheek in a gentle caress, then tilted her head up to him. With her eyes still closed, Julia placed her hand over his and leaned her head into the caress.

At that point the song finished. The lights came on and the lead singer announced the end of the set. Julia opened her eyes and swayed slightly as if she was coming out of a trance. Barnabas put an arm around her shoulders to steady her.

"Let's get out of here," he told her.

She nodded mutely, still under the spell of the music and his presence.

They strolled along the top deck until they came to the stern, where they stopped to admire the full moon's reflection on the water and the phosphorescent wake of the ship. They stood there for a time with their arms around each other, then Barnabas turned Julia to face him and captured her lips in a kiss that started out as but a gentle touch, but rapidly became much more passionate.

After several seconds, they pulled apart. He cupped her face in his hands and placed a soft kiss over each of her eyes, then regarded her with a tender half-smile.

"You have become so dear to me," he told her softly. "You have never forsaken me, even when others might have. You have been the best of friends to me, and I've come to realize that you are so very much more." He paused as he kissed her again. "I love you, Julia."

"Do you know how long I've waited to hear you say that?" she asked him, her voice trembling with the tears of joy she was trying unsuccessfully to restrain. "I think I've loved you since the first time I met you."

"I'm so s-" he began, but Julia placed her hand over his lips.

"I love you for who you are. Don't apologize for things in the past that you can't do anything about - they're what made you who you are today."

He kissed her fingertips as he removed them from his lips. "Did you know you're very wise for one so young?"

"Young?! I'm not -" she pulled back and saw the twinkle in his eyes. She was surprised and a little embarrassed to find herself blushing, and she would have looked away in confusion had he not held her there.

"You are young to me, and also very beautiful." He watched as her blush became even more pronounced, emphasizing the freckles on her nose which she had tried to powder over. "Has no one ever told you this before?" he asked in surprise. He took her hand as they slowly started to walk back to their suite.

Julia shook her head ruefully. "Somehow, there just never seemed to be enough time. I had to work part time to put myself through college and med school after Dad died. Then there was the studying - I had to work twice as hard as any of the men, simply because I was female in a time when most women stayed home and had babies. When I took over Wyndcliffe, the hospital became my life. There was just so much to do. I saw patients, advised the doctors under me, and also had to tend to the administrative end of things as well." She chuckled softly. "I always told myself that I'd have time later for a social life. Somehow, 'later' never came."

Barnabas relinquished her hand, but only to place his arm around her waist to draw her closer. "My dear one," he told her with just the hint of a smile in his voice, "I believe you'll find that 'later' has finally arrived."

Several minutes later they arrived back at their suite. Barnabas ordered a pot of tea from the night steward and they talked most of the night. Barnabas recounted some of his more mischievous childhood exploits, including the time he and his young cousin Millicent somehow managed to shut a billy goat in his father's bedroom. Julia laughed until her sides ached and tears streamed down her cheeks.

The sun was just starting to tint the horizon a delicate shade of pink when Julia discovered she had dozed off. She opened her eyes and found she was nestled snugly in Barnabas' arms with her head resting against his shoulder. She turned around to look at him; he was wide-awake, just watching her, with that wonderful half-smile of his that she found so endearing. She snuggled back into his embrace.

"How long was I asleep?"

He brushed a strand of hair off her forehead and kissed the top of her head. "Not long; only a few minutes."

"What were you thinking of just now?" she asked.

"So many things." He paused while he thought out his answer. "How very much I enjoyed our evening. How wonderful it is to be able to hold the woman I love all night." He was silent again for a couple of seconds. "How I want to wake up every morning with you in my arms."

Julia gasped in surprise and sat up to face him. He stilled the questions he knew were coming through the simple expedient of kissing her soundly.

"I love you, Julia, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." He reached into a pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small, green satin box and placed it in her hand. "Please, say you'll marry me."

For the second time that night Julia cried tears of joy as she threw her arms around his neck, the box clutched tightly in one fist. For several minutes she clung to him while he held her, his hands tracing soothing patterns on her back.

Finally she sat back and dried her eyes with the handkerchief Barnabas handed her.

"I shall take that as a 'yes'," he said, his eyes twinkling as he replaced his soggy handkerchief back in his pocket. Julia gave him an equally soggy smile and nodded her head shyly. "Aren't you going to open it?" He indicated the box she still held.

Her hands shaking, she opened the box, to reveal a stunning, oval-cut emerald, surrounded by diamonds. He took the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger.

"I have been told that emeralds are the rarest of the precious jewels," he said as he held her hand. "You are the rarest of women - you are brave, loyal, intelligent, sensitive, and forgiving. You can be intensely practical, yet you are also very beautiful and feminine. This emerald symbolizes my love for you - a rare jewel among women."

Finally gaining control of her voice, she looked up at him, her exotic eyes luminous with the love and joy she felt. "I love you, Barnabas, with all my heart." She chuckled softly. "I know, that sounds like a clich‚ - but I do. I've loved you forever, and will continue to love you forever. Nothing would make me happier than to be able to grow old with you."

He pulled her into his arms for another kiss.

The sun was fully up when Julia admitted to herself that she couldn't stay awake any longer. She rose from her place on the couch and bade Barnabas goodnight. He rose also and walked her the short distance to her bedroom door. Once there he took her in his arms and kissed her deeply, his hands moving sensuously across her back in a way that sent tremors of longing through her. Finally he broke the kiss and pulled her into an embrace so close she could feel the hammering of his heart and his hands trembling slightly on her back.

"Stay with me." He punctuated his words with a soft kiss on her jaw just below her ear.

She returned his kiss with one of her own, but stepped away from him, holding his hands as she moved back. "More than anything in the world, I want to say 'yes', but, no, Barnabas, I won't."

He raised one of her hands to his lips and kissed her palm. "Of course, my love. I apologize. I shouldn't have asked."

"Don't apologize for asking. It's just -" she was annoyed to find her self, yet again, blushing in embarrassment. "I want to wait."

"Then marry me tomorrow." He saw the question in her eyes and elaborated. "The ship is due to stop in Honolulu today for several hours, and then it will make its way overnight to Lahaina. We can make the preliminary arrangements in Honolulu today, and be married tomorrow."

"All right," Julia laughed. "Lahaina it is."

* * * * *

Lahaina was a beautiful contradiction. At one time a violent whaling port, it was now a tourist attraction. It was at the same time quaint and brash. Barnabas could identify with the whaling aspect of the town, because Collinsport also had its roots in the whaling industry. But the hordes of tourists were beyond his comprehension. They crowded the wooden sidewalks and overflowed into the streets. They were everywhere, snapping photos and snapping up trashy souvenirs, hurrying from store to store.

Barnabas and Julia met the justice of the peace in his office. He drove them out to a secluded beach a short distance down the coast from Lahaina. There, in stunning contrast to the bustling town, the rainforest grew down to the beach in riotous confusion, almost, but not quite, obscuring the lacy waterfall that cascaded down from the steep cliffs far above.

The ceremony was a simple one, with just the J.P's wife as a witness. They said their vows to the accompaniment of the roaring surf and the mewling of the seabirds. The murmuring of the waterfall was a soft counterpoint, with the soughing of the warm breeze in the palm trees providing the finishing touches to nature's score.

* * * * *

The ship sailed from Lahaina that night, bound for Tokyo. Barnabas and Julia stood on the bow, watching as the sun set a blazing trail of gold in the calm sea before them. The ship was accompanied for a short distance by a school of dolphins, leaping and dancing in the bow wave, the dying sun's rays turning their grey hides to burnished copper. As the sun sank below the horizon, so the dolphins ceased their play, and slowed to allow the great ship to continue on its journey.

By mutual consent, Barnabas and Julia turned from the rail and strolled, arm-in-arm, back to their cabin. There, Barnabas took Julia in his arms and kissed her deeply, passionately, pouring his soul, his life, his love into her. His fingers started to unfasten the buttons of the white linen suite she wore, pausing after each one to explore lightly each new stretch of skin he exposed.

He slid the jacket off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, resting his hands on her bare shoulders before running them down her arms and grasping her hands, gazing lovingly into her eyes.

She shivered and met his gaze momentarily; her wide green eyes were like those of a frightened doe. She blushed and glanced down at their joined hands.

"Julia?" He freed one hand and tipped her face back to him. "My love, surely you're not afraid?"

She turned away and stared out the window, her arms crossed in front of her.

He came up behind her and put his arms around her, surrounding her with his warmth and strength. He kissed the nape of her neck and leaned his head against hers. "Tell me."

"I've never -" she shook her head and tried again. "What if -?"

Sudden understanding dawned. He turned her around and cupped her face in his hands. "You've never been with a man," he said, gently kissing her forehead.

She nodded and laughed softly. "Another one of the things I just never found the time for. I could never find a man who was willing to accept me _and_ my career. So here I am - a middle-aged virgin."

He pulled her closer and embraced her. "Julia, do you trust me?" he asked.

"With my life," she said simply.

"Then know that I love you dearly, and would never do anything to hurt you. Come." He took her hand and led her into his bedroom.

* * * * *

Julia awoke to the strange sensation of feeling someone in the bed with her, his arm securely around her waist. She started in confusion, then remembered, a slow smile spreading on her face. She turned to face him; again he was awake and watching.

"Good morning, Mrs. Collins." He kissed the tip of her nose.

"Good morning yourself. And it's _Doctor_ Collins, thank-you very much." She snuggled closer so her head was pillowed on his shoulder. "Don't you ever sleep?"

"On occasion. When I am alone and the woman I love more than life itself is not with me to keep me awake with thoughts of what I'd rather be doing." He left a trail of kisses from her throat to her breast that left no doubt in her mind what that was.

She gasped and squirmed under his gentle assault. He chuckled at her reaction.

"Well, well. I do believe my wife is ticklish." He tested this theory by running his tongue along her ribcage.

She renewed her struggles, laughing helplessly. Finally she managed to evade his tickling long enough to straddle him. He allowed her to pin his hands above his head.

She relaxed and lay full length atop him. "You were right, you know."

He stroked down the entire length of her back as far as he could reach. She moved into the caress in the same manner as a cat moves into the hand that strokes it. "About what?"

"It is wonderful to wake up beside the one you love in the morning."

He gave a sudden thrust with his hips; she groaned in delight, then gasped as he flipped them over. He leaned on his elbows, caressing her face with his hands.

"My dearest, I trust you will be telling me that I was right for many, many mornings to come."