"Now what do we do?" I asked pathetically, my eyes equally glued to the spot that was occupied by the President's car not more than an hour ago.

I've asked the wrong question since Zander was at more of a loss with a hand covering his mouth and his eyes wide and glistening, the shock draped over him like the dark and unceasing clouds rolling in from the distance.

Five minutes elapse and he's an unmovable statue, a pillar of salt at the seaside and it takes a little boy with his mother dragging her son away from the amusement park to rouse Zander out of his misery. "Mooooommm that man looks like he's about to cry! Shouldn't we help him?"

"Ssshh, Daniel. Don't point! I'm sure whatever it is, he'll figure it out," the mother hissed, giving us a fleeting smile full of social politeness.

"But what if he cries?"

A choked cry escapes Zander's mouth before he clears his throat and gives the kid a nonchalant shrug, grinning half-heartedly.

Yeah, as if anyone is buying that when you're on the brink of tears in a baby-elephant shirt.

Sighing, I decide to take matters into my own hands and head for the security box where I relay the car's disappearance. The young officer on duty looks entirely floored but pleased, finally getting in some action for what would have otherwise been a mundane day at work, and follows me back to the lot where Zander's now plopped down on the curb, his head between his hands and the baseball cap, old shirt, and sunglasses tossed to one side.

"Excuse me, sir? Can you give me a description of your car and I'll need the license plate to pass along to the central patrol station to keep an eye out for it. We don't usually get car thefts out here, so I'm sure they'll be able to track it down."

Leaping to his feet, Zander shakes the security officer's hand and immediately provides him with the information which takes less than a minute, a sliver of hope in the air but once the man notes the model of the car, the plain frown on his features resets all our initial sinking feelings.

Groaning at the officer's retreating figure whose taken down both our numbers for contact, Zander continues to stand in bewilderment, grumbling, "My Dad is going to kill me. He'll have me killed and my remains scattered by the sea here. This beach might as well be my grave. I knew the old car hated me."

That seemed excessive, even by my own dramatic standards but I don't voice my thoughts out loud since there was still a slim chance that he could very well be killed off for losing a vehicle of sentimental value, but I bite down on my lip and simply give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I care for your life, I really do but don't you think we need to figure out how we'll get home?" I squeaked, trying to avoid the hurt swimming in his green eyes.

"Oh, we can call-"

"Should we look for a place to spend the night? I don't think we can catch transit in this area that'll take us back to the city and it looks like a storm is coming," I said, gazing up at the sky, the number of raindrops increasing and unnerving. I realise I've cut Zander off and shift my eyes to look up at him but he's staring speechless, green boring into me.

"You were saying something?"

"No, no. I meant...we should call...and see if there are any guesthouses we can stay at," he said, his voice breaking at intervals. Nodding my agreement, Zander's clouded expression clears and he's all smiles, a massive grin breaking free.

My brows scrunch together perplexed but before I can ask him why the sudden shift in mood, torrents of rain pour down on us and I'm gasping for air, running towards one of the amusement park's sheltered canopies next to the lot. My flee from the rain does nothing to escape the onslaught, thunder drumming overhead and I'm panting by the time I reach the canopy, my clothes soaked.

Shivering, I glance sideways and burst out laughing when I catch Zander's miserable state, the baby blue shirt pale and see-through, his arms failing to cover his body up.

Narrowing his eyes, Zander steps behind me and once again, uses me as a shield yet all his actions do is make me consciously aware of his body taking the form of an adhesive, clinging to me tightly.

I shift uncomfortably and thank the brewing storm's rage for turning the heat of the day into a chilly spring afternoon, the warmth in my cheeks invisible to Zander and those surrounding us. A few eyes begin to ogle Zander who appears to be the star of a dark photoshoot set against the backdrop of this bleak weather, making him cling to me tighter while I'm left squirming.

Great. I'm just playing the role of an extra...

"Zander!" I hissed.

"What?"

Shaking my head, I take out my phone and begin scrolling, hoping it'll distract me from the warmth splayed against my back. Zander follows my lead and launches into a search, remaining glued to me in order to avoid the gazes of others - it's just a battle between the tingling sensation spreading through me and my brain's ability to stay focused.

Despising my own inability to stay cool and collected, I click on the first guesthouse that pops into my search and point for Zander to take a look, "Should we go here? It's about a ten minute walk. If we grab an umbrella, we might make it with little damage."

Nodding, Zander grabs my hand and we make a run for the closest gift shop, "Let's do it," he said, lightly taking my phone and making the reservation while I hunt for an umbrella large enough for two people. Once both tasks are done, we exit the amusement park's vicinity and begin trekking...uphill.

The umbrella which I painstakingly picked out, flips inside out, the inner metal shell breaking and turning the waterproof fabric into a synthetic flower blowing in the wind...so much for romance.

What was meant to be the perfect first date has now resulted in the two of us resembling two sad mops; limp, cold, and helpless in the barraging storm. If I thought I was wet when the storm began then I'm completely drenched now, the rainwater soaking down to my underwear and reaching depths I never thought possible.

Between my stifled groan and Zander's grunts, we silently make it to the guesthouse, puddles forming at our feet as we clink the call bell and wait for someone to assist us.

I take this moment to glance down my shirt and silently mourn all of Celia's efforts and audibly yelp when I glimpse my reflection in a hanging mirror. Mascara streaks oozed down my face, the lipstick I applied earlier smudged, my raw lips cold and shivering.

Wiping my face in a feeble attempt to not parallel death itself, I wring as much water from my jacket, the tweed looking damp and muted now. Peeling the jacket off, I return to Zander's side only to have one of the hosts usher us past a corridor and lodge us into a spacious room before smiling briefly and leaves the room in a flash.

"Your room's nice," I said, eyeing the window view overlooking the beach and add, "I hope my room is as nice."

"This is your room," Zander said, green eyes sparkling in the dim grey light of the storm.

"Then where's yours?"

"This is mine," he said factually, crossing his arms in a casual manner.

"Then where's mine."

"Also yours."

"Like flying flamingos it is."

"You saw the reservation! It was for one room," Zander said, his tone light and innocent, almost sing-song like as he shrugs, failing to mask the grin on his face.

My eyes turn to slits as I tap a very wet foot against the hardwood floor, "I'm not having another sleep over with you. I never get any sleep!"

Smirking, he wiggles his eyebrows and says the exact words I dread, "That's what she said."

I'm about to retaliate when a husky comes bouncing through the open door and into the room with a friendly bark and knocks me off my feet by catapulting right into me. Landing with an "Oof" my already rain-drenched being is now slobbered with dog kisses.

"Okay buddy, that's enough," Zander commanded, trying to pry the large fur-ball off of me and receives a few howls in protest.

Scooting the dog out of the room, it goes darting down one of the halls at the sound of "Hector! C'mere, boy!" Zander comes back to find me laying on the spot the dog knocked me into and I merely sigh in defeat, rising off the ground and give Zander an exasperated look and we both head down the hall towards the sound of the dog's bark.

After a few wrong turns and me humiliating myself by colliding head first into a glass door, we manage to find the dog perched on a ledge next to an old lady reading. Glancing up from her book, she grins at the two of us, "newlyweds?"

"Actually-" Zander began, but I cut him off with a roaring, "NO!"

Glaring at me with a look of betrayal, I merely give him a slight smile before shaking my head. I may have agreed to dating but marriage was several steps too soon - I didn't want to be married off on my first date with the guy!

"It looks like only one of you thinks you're married," the old lady said smiling.

"I'll do better as a husband," Zander said solemnly, turning to drape a lazy arm around my shoulders with a broad grin disguising the mischief in his eyes.

Speechless, I let loose a strained laugh before elbowing Zander and ask the elderly woman who the dog was.

"Oh Hector is harmless! He loves having visitors, my son runs the place and we're down here visiting but I've been so bored. Why don't the two of you keep me company?" She asked sweetly.

And just like that, we're whisked into a private dining room with endless amount of alcohol placed before us. The elderly woman fills three glasses to the brim, handing one to Zander and I and toasts to her good health.

Blinking, I sip on the drink in a daze wondering what was even happening. My wet skirt and top fastened to me like sopping laundry out of the wash made this entire experience unbearable and I could sense Zander undergoing the same feelings of unease, shifting his body now and then with eyes straying to the door.

We're on our eleventh round of drinks with Hector howling in a corner and the old lady's figure blurring in my vision as she asks us how long we've been together.

At this point, the effects of the alcohol were making my eyes heavy and my head buzzing. The meaning behind her question is entirely lost on me and I blurt out the first thing that I can muster.

"Together? C&C has been together for four years!" I slurred.

"How could you? How could you cheat on me when it's only been a week!" Cranking my head to one side, my eyes crack open to see an equally tipsy Zander pouting at me with a pink flush to his cheeks.

"I didn't cheat!" I wailed, chugging another drink.

"Whose C&C then?"

"Catherine and Celia."

Grumbling, Zander snatches the glass out of my hand, "Who the hell is Celia?"

"My soulmate! Best. Friend," I declared, forming a first and thump it against my chest.

"You cheater! You'd cheat on me with some C? What about this body? Huh? You'd cheat on this?"

"Cccchhheeeee There's nothing much to look at," I huffed, my eyesight fogging with bright lights.

"There's plenty!" To my horror, Zander begins to lift his shirt. His actions have me immediately sobering up, and I clear my throat and smack my cheeks to bring me out of the remaining fog.

The old lady hasn't said a word making me squirm in a clumsy panic searching the room for her only to find her with an empty beer bottle, serenading Hector with a love ballad off-tune.

She abruptly ends her song to belch out the alphabet and then continues with a set of multiplication tables. Hector for all it's worth, howls his dissent but she continues unfazed as the dog backs into a corner piteously with wide eyes.

Silently apologizing to Hector, I grab Zander's arm and haul him out of the dining area, nearly dragging him out until we're back in our own room.

Huffing, I give my back a few light pats to ease the soreness and stare down at Zander's drunken state. He was making fists and punching the air, supposedly fighting someone in his sleep and I'd bet all my cupcakes that it was Celia.

Leaving him to battle it out on the floor, I locate the closet and grab a robe ready to take a piping hot shower and rid myself of the chill that's been attached to me since it began to rain.

The walk here was exhausting and today's events have drained me of what little energy I normally possess. Sharing a room with a drunk and sleeping Zander is the least of my worries...I think.

Returning to the room, I crawl onto the bed and silently say, "good night." Shutting my eyes, I settle into the warmth of the sheets and slowly begin to drift when the sound of cotton ruffling next to me has my eyes cranking wide open.

Turning, I find Zander edging closer until we're merely a hair's breadth away and it's all I can do but clench the bedclothes firmly, bringing them up to my face as a safety measure, the sound of my heart pounding swifter than it has ever before.

It's in this moment that I realise there's nothing underneath the robe having cast off all my wet clothing in the bathroom and this realisation has me shutting my eyes briefly, internally reprimanding myself.

You idiot! Stupid, stupid, stupid Catherine!

I'm still in the middle of berating myself when an arm and leg simultaneously fling over me, Zander's crushing figure spooning me in the bed and I merely squeak out a tiny cry.

"Zander?" I whispered.

Grumbling, his eyebrows furrow and etch creases into his forehead but he never once opens his eyes.

Zander's grip around me somehow becomes even more iron-like at the sound of my voice, leaving me frozen with bewilderment.

I try to wiggling out of his hold but it's futile and end up panting out of breath yet the goosebumps peppering his arm hit me with pangs of concern. He was still wearing his rain drenched clothing, the smell of rainwater pungent and staining the sheets.

Grunting, I manage to pry off Zander's arm with a heave of  determination and roll him over before smacking his cheeks to awaken him.

"Zander! Zander wake up! You've got to go change your clothes?"

"Mmmm. Ma...three more minutes," he mumbled.

"Zander! Take your shirt off!" I hissed, my tone piercing the quietness of the room and drowning into the sound of rain.

"Stupid C. You can't have my girlfriend!"

"Zander!"

Chucking with intoxication, he mumbles something I can't hear before his next set of words have me gawking. "You do it....Cat. Take them off for me."

Closing my eyes in anguish, I pinch his cheek with more strength in my fingers and assemble every towel from the bathroom onto the bed.

Is this considered taking advantage of someone drunk? All I want to do is change the guy's clothes so he doesn't catch a cold or pneumonia!

My lips form a thin line as I start the distressing task of undressing. Every inch of exposed skin has me gasping and praying for divine forgiveness, yanking bits of a towel as quickly as possible to cover him up.

"Zander arms! Lift!" I said commandingly, surprised at his capability to register the demand and he obediently does as I've asked.

Finished, I assess my handiwork and break into a laugh at the image of towels thrown in every direction. Shaking my head, I place Zander's clothes along the rim of the bathtub to dry and flop onto the bed completely exhausted.

Falling into a deep, undisturbed slumber, the fact that Zander and I were both naked in the same bed never once filtered through my mind and it's only at the sensation of sunbeams hitting my face, that I groggily open my eyes.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I suddenly realize that my lower back felt as if a concentration of heat gathered and settled there, and I flicker my eyes open confused.

Somehow throughout the night, my robe came undone and the towels covering Zander were now pooled on the floor. Seeking warmth he must have unconsciously grabbed onto me, his arms passing through the robe and snaking around me, presently resting on my lower back.

Screeching inaudibly, I silently attempt to peel Zander off but the slow unwavering grin twitching on his lips makes me pause, my fingers stiffening.

"Good morning, Cat," Zander croaked, Hector's howling 'awwwooosss' coming from beyond the guesthouse walls.

Observation: How do I explain myself now?
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A/N: "Hector the Husky" is the greatest title/name I've come up with so far.