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Summary: This is a sequel to That clothed the world and meets the sky.

Rated: PG-13

Categories: Crossovers Pairing: Tracie Tremarco/Walker Jerome

Warnings: None

Challenges:

Series: None

Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes

Word count: 557 Read: 714

Published: 10 Nov 2012 Updated: 10 Nov 2012

The Lake District carried bad memories, but Tracie had never be one to let little things affect what she wanted to do, much less her own personal fears. But it was cold in the North, and Walker's knees disliked the rain. It was not the memories that halted the trip up to where Wordsworth and so many other poets had written their best work; it was the lack of the sun, and warmth, and Tracie's gentle, niggling thought that Walker should always be warm. Not merely for the sake of his health, no, but- whenever she looked at him she still saw Gorgeous who bought her a Multiple Orgasm, his blond hair shining in the sun, a vision of hope for the boy Simon was and the girl she had never really been.

They left for Holkham, Norfolk in the end, walking along the miles of sand. Tracie had tried to keep her shoes on, but Walker laughed at her with every step she took, his own bare toes wiggling amongst the grains of gold. She tossed the shoes away in a huff then, tossing them into the boot of the car, and her red nails fought to gleam under the gentle sunlight that filtered through the trees. The water was blue, bluer than Walker's eyes. Tracie hadn't thought that possible.

Sitting there in the sand, with the sea breeze teasing his hair and sea salt on his lips, a sharp tang that lingered on Tracie's lips with every kiss- Walker told her stories.

"I went to France after I left England," he said, his voice soft. He traced his fingers over the thin, nude stockings covering her feet. "I went to Paris and lived with the gypsies for a while. They tried to teach me how to dance, but I have two left feet and I kept tripping over myself." He laughed, and Tracie reached out a hand, trying to trace the lines at the side of Walker's mouth; the lines of living that she never lived with him. "In the end, they taught me how to be charmingly clumsy. Though, I don't think that was deliberate."

"Well," Tracie said, her voice deep enough to rumble in her chest. It was Simon's voice, but Simon was part of Tracie and Tracie was part of Simon, and she was fine with that. "You've always been charming."

Walker took her hand, turning it over and pressing a soft kiss to the white, plush underside. He kept his eyes on her as his lips moved upwards, stubble scraping against her skin, and Tracie shivered at the desire that she saw in his eyes. She had been looking for the like for decades; for someone who could see her as she was and want her as she was- but there was only Walker, in the end. Only Walker, who came back to her and who looked at her as if she was everything that he had ever wanted; as if she was enough, just enough, for him to love for the rest of his life.

"You make it worth it to be charming," Walker murmured, and it just proved Tracie's thoughts right. She closed her eyes, smiling, and when they kissed again she could not tell the difference between the salt on the wind and the salt in her eyes.