Safe Haven

Won't Find Another Like You

Rosabelle Sage stared at the picture she held in her hands that had been taken so many years ago. She and Bo had been so little, so young then. Their worlds had revolved around nothing but baseball, how much sunlight they had left in the day, and each other. She hardly even remembered the day it was taken, though she knew it had something to do with the day Will and Nick had taken them to see a baseball game. Bo had managed to catch a foul ball that day, got it signed, and gave it to Rosabelle Sage to keep safe. The ball was still somewhere in her old bedroom.

The picture Rosabelle Sage was holding was actually in a series of pictures that had been taken after the group had gotten back. She didn't even remember the teams they had seen play, but she remembered that she and Bo had pretended to be on those teams afterwards, and had practiced their skills. The picture had been taken during a brief break in which Rosabelle Sage had leaned against Bo for support. He'd wrapped an arm around her, making her feel safe. With a start, Rosabelle Sage realized he'd always made her feel safe. He was her safe haven.

A noise of something falling caught Rosabelle Sage's attention and her head snapped around to find Bo lying on the floor, half-inside the house and half-out. Bo twisted his head to find Rosabelle Sage watching him and grinned at her. "There's a hailstorm."

She nodded. "Yeah, I can hear it." In fact, the ice was clattering against the roof as they spoke and had been for the past thirty minutes. "That doesn't explain why you're lying on the floor."

He shrugged, turning to face outside again. "Got tired of walking."

"I get that feeling sometimes. My solution is to usually lay on the couch or my bed, though. Not block the front door."

"I'm not blocking the front door," Bo protested. "People can step over me."

Rosabelle Sage shook her head with both disbelief and humor. He was unbelievable sometimes. She had almost gone back to sorting through pictures when Bo said, "Come lay next to me."

"What, and help you block the door, or worse, get stepped on? No thanks," Rosabelle Sage giggled.

"Yes, help me block the door and we'll make this house our fortress," Bo joked, placing his arms under his head, flexing his muscles, knowing that Rosabelle Sage was admiring him from where she sat. "We can make this fortress our home, and then fill it with love and babies."

"Bo, this house isn't even ours. It's Will and Shawna's," she reminded him, resting her face against the palm of her hand as she watched him. He was sprawled out with one leg curled, his knee raised while it swayed lazily back and forth.

"That doesn't mean we can't fill it with love and babies for them," he answered. She went back to digging through pictures, pausing when Bo started humming a song Rosabelle Sage recognized as "Cinnamon and Lipstick". She bit back a smile as he grew more bold, singing the words with his voice growing in volume. "You remind me of cinnamon and lipstick and the summers that we kicked it..."

"Really Bo?" Rosabelle Sage interrupted.

"I'll stop singing it if you come and lay with me," Bo baited, flashing her that grin that made her want to melt. With that, he turned back and started belting out the rest of the song. "And the late nights that we stayed up singing our favorite songs. In my beat-up, old apartment, we were broke and we were starving--"

"Okay, okay, you win," she caved, scooting out of her seat and moving to where Bo was. She lied down next to him as he had asked, but he dragged her practically on top of him before leaning up, and leaving her nestled between his legs.

"You waited too late; I have to finish the chorus." Without waiting for a response, he belted out. "But it's nights like that that we will never forget again! Okay, now I'm done."