Megan

"I'll be waiting with breathless anticipation," she returned, with a wink to show she was teasing. I watched her, saying nothing as she picked up her bike and threw her right leg over. With a throaty "Bye bye" she stood on the pedals and shot off downhill, bunny hopping small irregularities in the path as she showed off her skill.

My run home was slower, and my heart wasn't really in it - I was too busy thinking about her.

-

I did some washing. I read a H.P.Lovecraft short story. I caught up on email, and read some technical websites to ensure I was up to date on news and developments that were relevant to me. I ate a belated breakfast. I teased the cat. And all the while, I was thinking of her. Of the way her long cycling pants sheathed her legs. Of the curve of her hip. Of the slender musculature of her arms. Of the almost indiscernible freckles on her cheeks.

I forced myself to stay away till late in the afternoon at least. I didn't want to be the creepy guy who hangs out in bars to chat up barmaids. So I invented things to do - reordering the meagre clothing supplies I'd brought with myself, waxing and polishing my parents' car (to my mother's enduring amusement), teasing the cat more... but in the end, by mid-afternoon I found myself in my coat, walking to the Black Dog.

I walked up to the bar, and took a seat on a stool. I hadn't been there for more than a minute before she bustled out, carrying a tray of cleaned glasses.

"Hello," I said.

"Hi," she smiled. "Just let me put these down and I'll be right with you." She flicked her eyes to the right, and then started packing the glasses away. I glanced to my right, where I saw the owner of the Black Dog at a table with a mixed group. "Boss is in so I can't look like I'm not doing my work," she said apologetically.

"That's OK, I don't want to get you into trouble."

She laughed at that. "What will it be, Jamie?"

"A pint of Doombar again please, Meg. And a question."

"A question?" she replied. She took a glass and started to draw my ale. "Questions are fun. I like questions. Is it an interesting question?"

"I hope it is. Do you hike at all?"

She glanced at me. "I'm going to assume that's not weird London innuendo that I haven't heard before."

"Hah. No, I'm serious - proper hiking, with boots and so on."

"Never have but have always been tempted. Why?"

"I haven't been hiking in a long time, and I've missed it. I'm fine doing it alone, especially in areas I've been before... but company is always better. So I was going to ask if you'd like to go with me, if I found a good day walk." I looked at my hands, then glanced up at her.

She put my ale down in front of me, frowning slightly. "Why?"

I took a breath. "Because you're the first woman who's smiled at me like I'm interesting in longer than I can remember. Because your smile is beautiful. Because I enjoy your company, as little of it as I've experienced so far. And because I'd like you to."

Faint colour touched her cheeks at that, and I looked down again, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, that sounded creepy as all hell."

"No... it's fine. It's the nicest thing anyone's said to me in a while," she replied softly. "Oh... what the hell, I don't think you're a psycho. I can take a day off tomorrow. And I'd enjoy going hiking. Meet me here at nine if the weather's good. In fact, just meet me here at nine, if the weather is foul I'm sure we can find something to do."

"Really?"

"Just don't murder me and bury me somewhere, OK?"

I grinned at her. "I'll try to control my homicidal tendencies."

"Megan Flemming, stop daydreaming," called the owner, not unkindly. "James MacArthur, stop distracting my bar staff."

"Yes, Mr. Donovan," we both answered. I heard his quiet chuckle to his friends, and Meg winked at me. I carried my ale back to a corner table, where I sat trying not to grin like an idiot. I caught Meg's glance once, smiled at her, and could swear she blushed again.

-

"Dad, I need help," I said.

"What's her name, and when is it due?"

"What?" I asked.

"Well, you sounded serious, and I assumed that you'd got a girl into trouble."

I gave him a level look, and he managed to maintain his poker face for a brief while, before we both grinned.

"You know the area pretty well, right?"

"Well enough, lad. I walked most of it as a bairn, and used to run the moors at Uni. Why do you ask?"

"I'm looking for a day walk, not too far away, that wouldn't kill an inexperienced hiker."

"Just head north, find a green lane, and walk from there. If a farmer gives you trouble, just be lost and apologise. Most people round here won't have trouble with someone who's clearly just walking."

"Any hills with nice views?"

"Nothing near, no. Combe and Minton are good, but for real views you need to head up further towards the border, or over Wales-way to the Beacons."

"Ok, I'll see what I can rustle up locally."

"My old ordnance survey maps are in the bottom drawer of my desk," he added. "Jamie - If you do go, lad, remember that the weather can still change quickly at this time of year. I know you're careful but just remember that it still gets cold enough for you to get in serious trouble out there."

"I'll bear that in mind," I answered.

-

I'd loaded rain gear, my camping stove and canteen set into the rear of the Landy just in case. The sky was overcast, and out of caution I checked the Met's surface pressure chart. A large low-pressure cell was moving in from the Atlantic - that meant rain. But the rain might only arrive by this evening, so it was still worth trying for a morning's walk. I packed a spare warm fleece and some spare socks into my Deuter day-bag, and then hopped into the Landy.

I clattered down to the Black Dog, and I parked in one of the bays close to the front door. I let the Defender tick over a bit so the heater was working, since it was a bit nippy outside and I doubted Meg liked the cold.

After a brief wait, she appeared around the side of the Black Dog. I hopped out and waved at her, and she shifted her bag to her shoulder and waved back.

"Good morning," I said.

"Hi," she smiled. "I didn't have time to look at the forecast. What's the prediction?"

"Low pressure later, probably some rain, but we should be ok this morning at least."

"Suits me fine."

I opened the back door for her, and she stowed her backpack behind the seat. She was wearing hiking trousers and a zip-up fleece over a high-tech wicking top, and some trail-running shoes. "Do you have spare warm clothes?" I asked.

"In the bag. With my hat and earmuffs"

"Wow. I'm glad I guessed you didn't like the cold, I've got the heater all warmed up for you."

"My hero." She fluttered her eyelashes, and I laughed as I opened the front door for her, closing it behind her once she'd climbed in.

"So where are we going?" she asked, as I clambered into the driver's seat next to her. I watched her reach out towards the warm air from the vents.

"I don't really have any idea. I thought we could just head north out of town a short way and see where we end up. There's not much in the way of dramatic views around here, according to my dad. We'd have to head quite a bit more than an easy day drive's distance."

"Ok, abduct me," she said, sinking down into the seat.

We drove north out of town, and I watched her out of the corner of my eye. She wore an almost-smile, one which widened as I turned off onto the B roads.

"I need to tell you that I don't do this often," I said.

"Do what?"

"Pick up girls and take them off into the deserted countryside."

"You seem pretty good at it though, you managed to convince me to go with you."

"I still have no idea how I managed that," I confessed. "I'm attributing it to sheer, dumb luck."

"It must have been your smile," she mused.

"I've been told it's a nice one."

"Oh, it is."

I smiled.

"See?" she laughed at me. "I'd call it devilish, but you've been very well behaved. I just hope I'm not mistaken about you."

"I'm an open book," I said, as I navigated us down a narrow track. "Very easy to read. No subtleties."

"I find that hard to believe," she observed.

"Well, ok. But I'm not dark or dangerous."

"What is it that you do, anyway?" she asked.

"Do you want the Jamie version or the English version?"

"Lets try the Jamie version," she said, grinning at me.

"I work in a small office near Angel in London, where I slavishly obey the random demands of a department of sentient orangutans."

She laughed. "Let me guess. Marketing?"

"Close, but no. I'm a business analyst for an online publishing corporation."

"Ah," she smirked. "A trendy little suit-wearing London lad. Or are you a hipster?"

"Do I look like a hipster?" I asked her.

"Looks can be deceiving. I, for example, look like a girl. But I'm actually a man-eating dragon."

I looked at her.

"Rawr," she said, eyes wide.

I started laughing so hard that I had to pull over. Meg was literally crying next to me. "Oh god, if you could see your face!"

-

We parked in a muddy verge, and grabbed our packs. I bundled the hiking stove and my canteen set into the bottom of my bag and tied my waterproofs to the back. "It's cold, I'm sure we'll like hot chocolate when we stop," I answered Meg's unspoken question.

"Hot chocolate while hiking. Luxury."

"Be prepared," I answered. "It's a motto that's served me well - occasionally."

"Boy scout," she teased.

We opened a gate in the hedgerow, and stepped through after checking for livestock. I closed it behind us."Let me just make sure we can find the car again." I pulled out my phone, and took a GPS fix. I looked at my dad's map that I'd packed as an afterthought. "There's a hill about four miles to the north of us that looks like it could give us a good first point," I said.

"You're very organised," she observed. "I just wander off and see where I wind up."

"I'd do that if it was just me. But I won't risk you."

I blushed, suddenly realising what I'd said, but Meg just laughed. "You're sweet. I don't need protecting, but you're sweet. Plus... it's Buckinghamshire, not the Rockies. What could happen out here?"

I ducked my head, then laughed helplessly. We set off along the verge of the field, it would make explaining ourselves easier if we didn't cross farmland directly but rather stuck to the borders of it. A gentle breeze had sprung up, and the grey overcast had lowered slightly, but the ceiling was still high. We walked in silence for a while, both busy with our own thoughts.

"What made you come to Buckinghamshire?" I asked her after a few minute's silence.

"I was doing search engine optimisation, and there was a contract role going in Milton Keynes, but the role didn't turn out to be what was advertised," she answered.

"Wow. I would not have pegged you as a geek," I said.

"As I said, looks can be deceiving."

"I admit to being deceived. I'd have put you down as still a student, or at least as someone who'd just begun working."

"I'm twenty five, so I guess I'll take it as a compliment."

"Please," I answered. "I didn't mean it as an insult, but rather just as a genuine compliment. You look younger."

"Ok," she answered, amused. "But now you're on the spot. How old are you?"

"Twenty eight. I know I look haggard, but that washes off."

"You don't look haggard," she said, "just weather-beaten. And you look like you'll age well."

"Thanks... I think."

"Oh, you know what I mean," she laughed. "Some men age well. I think you will."

I thought it better to say nothing in return, but I couldn't help smiling.

-

The wind had picked up a bit, and Meg had pulled on her fleece hat and a thin pair of gloves. We crested the hill, and I took the chance to catch my breath and look around.

"That weather to the west looks grim," Meg observed.

I squinted. "Yeah, it's pretty dark out that way. What do you think?"

"I'd say let's chance it. I'm enjoying being outdoors. And the company is nice."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"You haven't tried to kill me even once, yet," she grinned.

"Is that a problem in Devon?" I retorted.

"More than you might think," she observed quietly. "I grew up in a town that had a bar girl disappear, they found her a month later, buried in the woods."

"Well, that put a morbid tone on the day," I said.

"Sorry... it's just a thing I think about. But Buckinghamshire is a lot less strange than Devon and Cornwall. And I'm pretty sure you're what you seem, despite hanging out in bars picking up loose women."

"I've never picked up a loose woman in my life," I replied. "But I make no apologies for managing to lure you out with me."

"Don't," she agreed. "I'm glad I took the chance. You're..."

"I'm what?"

"You're easy to talk to. And you make me laugh. What you said the other night? It holds for me too. It's been a long while since anyone smiled at me like you do."

I shook my head, disbelieving.

"It's true," she said.

We sank into silence again, and I saw her hunch slightly against the wind.

"You getting cold?"

"A bit," she answered.

"If we get down off the crest, it will be a bit warmer. I can make us hot chocolate."

"I would love a cup," she answered.

We moved downslope, and found several small granite rocks that formed a bit of a sheltered nook. Some old coals indicated that someone else had also used this spot to shelter, and I took that as a good sign. I set up the camping stove, put my canteen on top of it, and filled it with water from my old Thermos, which was no longer warm but was at least above air temperature. I set out my tin mug and the Thermos lid, scooped some powder into both, and set them aside. Then I sat down alongside Meg.

"Boy scout," she teased me.

"Don't knock it, you're benefiting from my foresight," I returned.

"I'm not complaining. Brr. It's colder than a witch's tit all of a sudden."

She wasn't exaggerating. It had definitely cooled down, and the horizon was obscured. "That looks like it could be rain," she said.

"Could be. It's moving across our front, so we should be ok for a bit." I eyed the stove. Suddenly, I felt her pressed up against me.

"Sorry," she said. "Using you as a blanket. I should have brought warmer clothes."

"Don't apologise, I don't mind," I answered. We sat for a while, in companionable silence, while I marvelled at the gentle pressure of her leg and shoulder again mine, and I realised that I would have a problem if I had to stand up at any stage. To cover my embarrasment, I poured our hot chocolate and handed her the tin mug. "Cheers," I said.

"Health, wealth and happiness," she answered. She took a sip. "Nice. Hot. More."

I laughed. "Tell me the truth. You escaped from Bedlam, didn't you?"

"What gave me away?"

I looked at her, at the faint freckles standing out against her wind-chilled skin, and at the strands of hair that had escaped her beanie.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she asked, quietly.

"That's dangerous ground," I murmured.

"Dangerous animals?" she asked.

"More like treacherous terrain."

She smiled, leaning her head forward on her knees. "This is nice, Jamie. Thank you for bringing me up here. It's nice having someone fun to share a nice day with."

"That goes for both of us, then."

-

The weather continued to lower, and a few wet blats of rain jerked us out of our reverie. I packed up the stove and mugs, and then handed Meg my rain jacket.

"It's going to piss down shortly, I think," I said. "I should be ok, but I don't know if your fleece will stay dry in a downpour."

"I'd argue, but I'm afraid you're right about that," she said. "Let's get moving, cold is one thing but cold and wet makes Meg a sad snowflake."

We shouldered our packs, and started retracing our steps. We crested the slope into the teeth of a strong, cold breeze, but then dropped out of it again on the far side. Light rain began to fall, and our path grew wetter and muddier.

Meg was walking in front of me, and I will freely confess that I was kept warm more by the view of her than the kit that I was wearing. We splashed through some puddles and had to cross one new stream, but she walked without complaint, merely checking behind her frequently to ensure I was still there.

We stopped for shelter under a large oak as a squall blew through, and she laughed at how wet I was. I grinned sheepishly. "You got the weather-beaten part of it right," I said.

"I'm a good judge of character," she returned, with a smirk. "You sure you're not getting cold, Jamie?"

"All good," I answered. "It's not that bad, and the walk is keeping me warm."

"How far do you think we have left?"

"Can't be more than a mile or two. Let me check the GPS."

I pulled it out, and Meg spread her jacket out to shelter it. "Yeah, about a mile or so..." I said, looking up. I lost my train of thought at that, having her so close overrode my higher functions.

"Stop looking at me that way," she said softly, flushing.

"I can't help it," I replied, quietly. "You're beautiful."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," she murmured, looking aside, then darting her eyes back to me.

"Lies, all lies. Whoever told you that sold you a bridge."

She shook her head, but the smile stayed. "Come, it's raining. We need to get back to your Landy."

We set off, trying to keep under cover as much as we could, though in my case it made scant difference any more - I was totally drenched. Meg looked like she was at least still partly dry. We got lost once or twice due to the poor visibility, but the GPS at least gave us an indication of where we needed to go, and so eventually we found the lane and the Landrover. I took the jacket from Meg as I opened the door for her, then dumped our bags into the back and scrambled into the driver's side.

We looked at eachother and laughed. I could feel water pooling under me on the seat. Meg scrubbed her face dry with her sleeves. "Jamie, I'm all wet."

"Sorry," I said. "That was supposed to be a gentle, fun hike."

"It was fun!" she said. "I'm not that wet really, and I really enjoyed being outside. But you're soaked!"

"One of the benefits of an old car," I said, "especially this one, is that a little bit of rain doesn't matter. There are drainage holes in the floor."

"Uh huh," she said. "Have you had to use them before?"

"I got stuck in a river once, for a bit. It was amusing. They worked then, they should work now." I turned the Landy on, put her into gear, and turned us around for home. We drove back up the green lane, and once or twice had to use the off-road capabilities of the car to bypass mud patches that had formed in the rain.

"Useful car, this. My dad had one long ago, but he never took it off-road with me in it," she observed.

"I bought this on a whim; I wanted to have an impractical outdoor car for London, and use it to imply I was an outdoorsy type."

"How'd that work out for you?"

"Not very well," I admitted sheepishly. "I didn't use it to go outdoors much. London's tough that way."

"Well, this makes up for it a bit, I think," she said, sliding lower in her seat. "Turn the heater up a bit more, would you?"

I reached over and cranked it up all the way, and then eased us around another car in the lane. "It's not that far back to town, so you should be good till we're home."

-

We turned into the Black Dog, and I helped Meg grab her kit. She looked at me speculatively. "Listen, I wouldn't normally do this, but... my flat is just behind the pub. Come up and at least dry yourself off."

"My kingdom for a towel," I quipped, and she smiled. "Come. Hurry, before we both get wet." She thought for a moment. "Make that wetter."

She set off and I followed her, around the back of the Black Dog and into the next street. Meg led me up to the door of a relatively modern two-story block of flats and tagged us in at the electronic lock. "This way. Excuse the mess, please," she said quietly as she opened a cupboard. "It's very much a work in progress."