The Transition Plan

"Beer!" Kevin yelled.

"Beer? I don't drink beer. No, there was something..." the robe woman said.

"I'll take some Lucky Charms and your phone number..." a blonde with pink highlights said, running her hand up Dean's arm.

"Don't let 'Sugarbear' hear you said that," the robed woman said, raising her eyebrows and staring in frank disapproval at the pink highlighted girl's exposed breasts. "Why don't you go put something on, Bunny?"

"Ah, excuse me please. I'm here to--" Dean said, looking up to see Kari glaring at him, before she jumped down off the chair and went inside her bungalow.

"Wait, do you belong to... that?" the robed woman said, pointing at Kari's house.

"Uh... not exactly..." Dean said, wincing as Kari's screen door slammed shut.

"Well, whatever you are -- go fix it! If I wanted to fuck my husband in the middle of scream crying and construction noise, I would never have left the kids with my sister!" she yelled, before stomping off in a huff, breaking clean through one of the rotten dock boards in the process.

Sighing, Dean walked up the beach toward Kari's house, noticing that while her house shared the same general disrepair and messily thatched roof as the others, the edge of the thatch on Kari's roof had been sheared with meticulous precision right up to the point where the chair she had been standing on was left. On closer inspection, the other two houses had a hasty white paint job, whereas Kari's was covered with massive patches where the paint was completely gone.

"Kari?" he called, knocking on the screen door. Looking toward a noise similar to rodents chewing on something, he found her standing on another chair, chipping away at the edge of another patch of missing paint with a butter knife.

"Go away! I'm busy!" she called without turning around.

"You're on vacation, Kari. You're not supposed to be busy," he laughed, shaking the sand off his sandals and stepping inside. "I like what you've done with the place..." he said, casually picking at the edge of a nearby flaking paint patch.

"Why are you here, anyway? You need to be interviewing candidates! If you think you can find someone that can just--" she said, turning around and shaking the butter knife at him now.

"Eh. I'm letting Evan handle it. It'll be fine. Plenty of bossy secretaries out there..." he said, shrugging dismissively, walking over to her kitchen, and opening the fridge.

"Bossy?" she said, jumping down from the chair in outrage and stomping over to him. "I held your life together! Most days you'd be lucky to find your way home or get to bed without me talking you through it! How did you even get here?" she yelled, closing the fridge, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

"Catamaran," Dean said nudging his head toward the dock with a smirk.

"Will wonders never cease?" she sniped, watching as he opened all her cabinets as if he owned the place. "Do I get to know why you're here, then?" she asked, leaning over him to see what he was looking for in the cupboard under the sink.

"I thought you might like to have dinner with me," he said, his muscular thighs straightening from his squat until he towered over her, closer to her than he had ever allowed himself to be at work. "There's a great place Rollie recommended on the big island... not that I don't love yogurt and... cookie butter?" he said, scrutinizing the label of a jar of Biscoff that Kari had been living on for days.

"I... I don't know..." Kari said, backing away from him, looking confused.

"Rock lobster and a guava duff so good it will make your swimsuit fall off," he said, slowly closing the distance between them again.

Kari's lower lip trembled and her eyes wandered toward the beach, "My swimsuit already fell off... I tried swimming the first day and it... fell apart... because it was so old that the spandex just..." she murmured, then to Dean's horror she burst into tears. Kari's beautiful face contorted into a grotesque mask and seemed to be leaking from every possible opening. She was making such an uproarious wailing sound that he nearly laughed from shock. She was so different from the sharp, capable woman that told him what to do with his life that he barely recognized her.

"Oh god, there she goes again..." Dean heard one of the others moan outside.

"Hey now..." Dean said, taking her into his arms and leaning his cheek on her head. "It's okay. Shhh... it's okay," he said, stroking her hair and trying not to think about how good it felt to have her in his arms again.

"And everybody hates me here, now!" she wailed into his shirt.

"Aw, who said that? Nobody hates you..." he soothed.

"Yes we do! She pissed off Rollie!" Kevin called from his hammock, making Kari wail again.

"Not helping, Kevin!" he called out the window, before turning back to the crying woman in his arms. "Aw, Kari... it's all right..." Dean murmured and held her closer, rocking slightly and gently stroking her shaking frame. He looked down to see that she was clutching his shirt in her small hand, and his throat tightened at the sight. The hope that she could need him, even a little... was overwhelming. "When was the last time you got some sleep?" he whispered into her hair.

Kari whimpered something into his shirt, and he made a noise of understanding. He didn't need to know how long it had been. It was obvious she was exhausted. Leaning down, he put an arm behind her knees, scooped her up into his arms and walked toward the bedroom. "I won't sleep, though..." Kari said, pathetically. "All I see are the things that need work... cleaning... all the stuff that's been left to fall into ruins..." she said, starting to cry and hiccough at the same time.

"Mmm hmm..." Dean said, easing her into a chair near the bed and setting about smoothing out the sheets for her. The bed had looked like either a hurricane passed through, or she had been thrashing around all night. "I think I can help with that," he said, lifting her from the chair and putting her into the bed. Then, stripping off his shirt, he wrapped it around her head, covering her eyes, and tied it in the back. "I'm going to go do a few things. You just leave that on there until I get back, and I'll take care of everything," he said, covering her with the sheet.

"Okay..." she murmured, wiping her nose and burrowing into the pillow, already half asleep.

Dean smiled down at her, "Good girl."

*** *** ***

Kari awakened in the late afternoon to the smell of something heavenly and a sizzling sound coming from her kitchen. She pulled the shirt blindfold off her head, quietly rolled out of bed and peered out of her bedroom to see Dean's broad back blocking her view of whatever he was stirring in a pan. She felt frumpy in her tank top and cut-off sweats shorts and poked through her suitcase for options that would make her look better, but to no avail. She had packed during a crying jag, which was never a good idea. She tugged her braids apart and quickly brushed her hair, throwing it into a loose bun before padding barefoot out to the kitchen.

"There she is..." Dean said, glancing over his shoulder at her with a smile.

"You're here," she said, slightly bewildered.

"I am."

"And you're... cooking," she said, leaning around him to see bacon, onions and peppers sizzling in the pan.

"Just peas and rice," he said, shaking the pan.

"Why are you here?" she said, shaking her head. "You were here before and I thought I was hallucinating because I can't sleep in this damn heat, but you're here and I... why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you," he said, pouring a cup of rice into the pan and stirring it.

"I'm not coming back, Dean. And don't yell. I can't. Please don't try to--"

"I won't," he said, taking a pitcher out of the fridge, pouring a glass of something fruity-looking, and handing it to her. "Drink. Don't get me wrong. When I came here, I... I was going to. I needed to make you see something, but then... well, I saw you."

"That doesn't make me feel better," Kari said, looking around his shoulder into the pan.

"Well, it shouldn't. You look terrible. What is all this? What's going on with you?" he asked, pointing for her to give him the can of tomato sauce next to her.

Kari passed him the open can and watched him pour it over the rice and stir it in. Then she realized he was watching her, waiting for an answer to his question. It was a little disconcerting. He had always been focused on work, before. When they had talked, it was always to give each other tasks and push toward a common goal. This was so... personal. She didn't know what to do with it, much less with this man who normally couldn't decide on what to eat or what tie to wear, suddenly knowing how to sail a boat and cook. "I just needed a change. Something made me look at my life and... hey, what is that?" she asked, noticing a small pile of supplies in the corner.

"Mmm? Oh that. Just something better than a butterknife," he said, pouring a can of some bean-looking things into the pan.

Kari walked over to the pile and bit her lips in excitement. A putty knife, sandpaper, a can of spackle, and three gallons of white paint, along with some painting supplies. "Are you serious? You got this for me?"

"I got it for us. Along with some groceries. There are conditions, though. One, I get to help," he said, pouring some coconut water into the pan and shaking it again before putting on a lid.

"Oh my gosh, this is perfect! I can't believe you're not just making fun of me for fixing up a place I'm renting..." she said, squealing with excitement upon discovering a utility knife that would be perfect for cutting thatch.

"Ever since I interviewed you, I've learned to trust that if you're doing something, it probably needs to be done," Dean replied, taking his beer and walking to where she was pouring over the items in the pile like they were Christmas presents. "Second condition... evenings are mine."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kari protested. "You can't just barge in on my vacation and dictate--" she began, when Dean took the scraper and deftly ran it up the wall, effortlessly making satisfyingly huge flakes of paint fall to the floor. Kari mindlessly let out a moan of pure lust.

Keeping his back to her, Dean grinned, "What was that?" he asked.

"Nothing. Evenings are yours. Anything you want. Gimme the putty knife."

Dean laughed, holding the putty knife up just out of her reach, "All these years, and to think I could have just visited a hardware store..."

"What's that supposed to mean? Gimme the knife, you big dope!" Kari said, jumping to try to reach the putty knife in his hand.

"Third condition," he said, ignoring her attempts to pull his arm down and steal the tool from him, "you need to tell me the truth about something." Kari paused, his words landing on her like a thought that shocked her out of sleep into being wide awake. She was suddenly acutely conscious of their closeness, the feel of his arm around her waist, his broad shoulders under her hands. How long had it been since she had felt someone's body breathing against hers, she wondered. The utility room, she supposed, but she had been too shocked and mortified for the warmth and sense of trembling vitality to even register.

"The truth... about what?" she asked, frowning slightly and looking near, but not at his face.

"About that night... Halloween," he said quietly, tightening his arm and holding her closer.

Kari's eyes widened and she tried to swallow, but couldn't quite make it work. Her heart was pounding, but... this was Dean. Just Dean. The guy who couldn't work the coffee maker. The guy who needed her to show him how to use his Outlook calendar a couple times a week, and still somehow found a way to screw it up. Dean didn't make her heart pound. He made her eyes roll... didn't he? She chanced a glance at his face, now hovering near hers, calm and focused. "What about it?" she whispered.

Dean leaned down even closer, the stubble of his jaw brushing her face, sending confused thrills through her body, "Was that the last time you showered?" his deep voice murmured into her ear.

"Ugh, jerk! I've been working!" Kari yelled, pushing herself away from him and crossing her arms in front of her.

"So have I, but you know... I bathe, too. You should try it. There's time before dinner," he said, handing her the putty knife, turning away and returning to the stove.

"Fine," she huffed, stomping off to the bathroom.

Kari's mind reeled in the warm spray of the shower. He had some nerve, she thought, coming in here and acting all... how was he acting? Not helpless and grateful like he usually was. He was weirdly competent, self-satisfied and... provocative. If she didn't know him better, she'd even say he was even flirting with her. Why, after all these years, would he suddenly flirt with-- and then it came to her. "Oh, you son of a bitch..." she breathed quietly, blinking away the shampoo bubbles sliding down her face. Grabbing a towel, she stomped out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, "You're trying to seduce me!" she yelled.

"Am I?" Dean asked, putting the lid back on the pan and turning off the heat.

"You are! You're trying to turn me into some love-starved Moneypenny that stays at a job she should have quit years ago because she has a crush on her boss!" she yelled, jabbing her finger at him, while her other hand tried to hold her towel closed over her luscious breasts with dubious success.

"That's flattering, but Bond wasn't her boss. M was Moneypenny's boss. Unless you're suggesting she--"

"Don't you try to change the subject! You're trying to seduce me into coming back because you hate change so much that you're willing to lower yourself to--"

Dean cocked his head skeptically, "Seriously, Kari? You're the one who's soaking wet, running around in a towel and showing off your lack of tattoos. If anyone's trying to seduce someone here, it's you," he said, gesturing to where the close of the towel exposed the wet curve of her bare hip. "Besides, no one in their right mind would try to seduce you like this," he said, turning away from her and taking two bowls out of the cupboard.

"Yeah? Well... how would they try to seduce me?" Kari asked, quickly clutching the towel closed over her hip.

"Oh, no. I'm not telling you that," he said, scooping peas and rice into the bowls.

"Why not?"

"You're too much of a control freak. If I told you I was seducing you, you'd completely screw it up," he said, grabbing spoons and moving their dishes to the small dinner table nearby.

"I'd screw it up? Hah! I'd screw it up! This from Mr. 'What Do You Mean The Coffee Filter Goes In Before The Grounds?'" Kari snorted, only to jump and stumble backwards when Dean turned suddenly, grabbed her towel in his hand, and pulled her against him with it.

"Kari... I'm an engineer," he said quietly, the faint smell of beer on his breath bringing her mind swirling back to the utility room. "Now, what engineer in their right mind can't manage to pick up the intricacies of operating a coffee maker?" he asked, looking down into her flustered green eyes as a smirk played across his mouth.

"I... well, you've got me," she said, her voice quavering before she cleared her throat and rallied her courage. "I've been asking myself that for the last--"

"Anyone who has seen your bottom in a pencil skirt bending over the counter every day while you check the water level on the side gauge of the coffee maker, that's who," he said, releasing her towel with a wink.

Suddenly free, Kari stumbled back before regaining her balance. "You... you *are* trying to seduce me!" she spluttered.

Dean narrowed his eyes and closed the distance between them again. Kari backed away from him until the kitchen wall blocked her progress. Dean leaned down to her, smiling as he watched her lick her lips nervously. "If I were going to seduce you, Kari, I would have done it 12 years ago when I fell in love with you. Now, why don't you go put on the dress I hung on the bathroom door and come eat."

*** *** ***

Kari emerged from the bathroom in the loose, knee length dress, eyeing Dean warily as he stood at the table, holding her chair out for her. "Beautiful..." he said, his eyes roaming over her bare shoulders, her long neck, and the damp waves of hair that she had hastily arranged. He noticed she had applied a touch of eyeliner and lipstick, as well. She had made an effort to look nice for him, even as confused and cautious as she seemed. A promising sign. He would have told her that she was stunning bare faced, with her mesmerizing green eyes framed only in her naturally thick lashes, her full lips colored only by her excitement, but she would never believe him. He would be lucky if she believed him when he said he was in love with her.

"You're not in love with me, Dean," she said quietly, as he seated her at the table, "You just like having someone who knows how you like things... you're used to me. You like the routine we have."

"The routine that we *used* to have, you mean," he corrected, sitting down next to her so they could both look out the window at the waves in the fading sunlight. "Because you're quitting."

"That's right..." she said, looking down at her bowl of peas and rice.

Much to her confusion, Dean grinned, and began eating his food with enjoyment. "Because something made you look at your life and made you need a change," he said, repeating her words back to her.

Kari's eyes flitted to his, then to his tousled hair and down his body, both familiar and unfamiliar in his casual clothes. His skin had gotten tanned with the sailing, his hands brown and strong-looking. It was hard to reconcile the man sitting next to her with the boss she had served for so long. Frowning, she simply nodded and took a bite of the dish and swallowed without tasting it.

"Wonder what it was...?" Dean murmured, between mouthfuls of peas and rice. He was almost certain he knew the answer to his question, but her immediate blush confirmed it, much to his satisfaction.

"It... it didn't have to be anything, Dean! My whole life revolved around y-- my job!" Kari said, flustered and angry, suddenly. "I've been all around the world, but I've only seen it from planes and taxis, hotels and conference rooms! My place is completely generic because I've always been waiting for when I get a house with someone to fill it full of memories... but I haven't made memories... for years I haven't done anything... I've just..." she trailed off, miserable and oblivious to the beginnings of the gorgeous Caribbean sunset in front of her.

Dean's face fell, seeing the tears welling in her eyes and knowing he had a role in putting them there. "Come on. I'm taking you around the archipelago," he said standing and pulling her up beside him. "I'll bring the peas and rice, you bring the spoons," he said, scooping the food into a large bowl.

"Why?" she asked, following him and taking their spoons.

"You haven't eaten enough, and I can only cook rum on the boat," he said, nudging her out the door.

"Oh!" she gasped once they got outside, finally seeing the sunset unfolding before her, as Dean urged her down the dock to his boat.

"Come on, it's even better from the water!" he said, stepping onto the boat and offering her his hand once he had put the dish of rice and peas down. Once she was safely aboard, he untied from the dock and maneuvered out onto the water, somewhat distracted by the sight of Kari's dress swirling up her thighs in the breeze.

Dean sailed the boat west to chase the sunset, giving them a few more minutes to enjoy the beauty. Eventually he dropped the sails, bridled the anchor, and went to stand beside her, putting an arm around her slender waist. He faced the sunset, but all his attention was on her. Her face warmly lit by the golden pink sunlight, the wisps of her hair caressing it in the breeze. He felt her rapid heartbeat with the arm he had around her back, her breathing shallow and excited.