My eyes slowly opened. The first thing I saw was a sleeping Zac . . . not ten inches away from me. In the same sleeping bag. I stopped myself from jerking upright and waking him. Instead I forced myself to settle down and studied him.

He looked so peaceful. The same thing I had seen last night in the firelight was there once again, it had never left, just been almost hidden. I couldn't quite place exactly what it was about him, it was just . . . there. He was beautiful, or handsome as he would most likely rather be called, but it was genuine, not fake or flawless, and that made it all the more perfect. The same applied to Zac himself, for what was in his face was a mere reflection of what lay underneath. It was what was underneath that was important, it was all that mattered. I reached out and brushed a stray hair from his face.

Looking at him sleeping peacefully, I realized I no longer thought of him as Zac Hanson the famous guy. Yes, he was still Zac Hanson the famous guy, but to me he was more than that. He was Zac, a guy who I was stuck in a strange situation with me where his fame meant squat, a guy who I thought as my equal, a guy who was my friend, a guy who I trusted. This was all within a day of knowing him. With that bizarre realization I carefully got up so as to not wake Zac.

I went over and restocked the fire which had burnt down to coals over the night. The clothes which we had left by the fire were thankfully dry so I placed Zac's by his sleeping form and packed all of my clothing away.

"Now for breakfast . . ." I muttered to myself feeling much like a housewife for some reason. I walked outside humming a simple tune and stretched out my back. It was the one thing that was sore, which for me was lucky after such a long walk. I had a bad back anyway so it was no big deal, it just needed some stretching.

I looked around the clearing and decided to get some water. I went back inside and got my water bottle. I went over to stream and filled the bottle after rinsing it out, and then splashed my face with the cool spring water. It felt wonderful. As I was doing this I was thinking about apples. I had a craving for a golden delicious apple. I glanced across the way when I was done and was startled to find an apple tree with golden delicious apples on it. I stepped over the stream and plucked two good looking specimens off low hanging branches. It was strange, but I thought I might as well take advantage of my luck.

I rinsed off the apples and walked back to the cave, humming, filled a pan with water. Then I put the water on to boil and got out some packets of "peaches and cream" oatmeal, my favorite. I couldn't thank my upcoming wilderness survival trip enough. I don't know what we would have done without all my stuff.

"So, do you enjoy playing housewife?"

I turned and glared at the wide awake Zac. "How long have you been awake?" I demanded, not TOO harshly.

"Tsk. Tsk. Answering a question with a question. Not good form m'dear." I couldn't help but laugh at his horrible attempt at an English accent.

"I see that you're in a good mood today. Want some oatmeal? There's also an apple."

"Where did you get a fresh apple?" He got out from under the sleeping bag and started to roll it up. "Agh! I'm sore!"

"I hate to say this, but: I told you so."

"You didn't hate that one bit!"

"Okay, you got me. I didn't, I rather enjoyed it actually." I kidded. I saw he was really sore and having a lot of trouble, "Come eat. I'll roll that up. When you're done I'll show you some stretches that will help."

"Okay." I handed him the apple and a pan full of oatmeal.

"Enjoy" I then went over and rolled up the sleeping bag.

"So, where DID you get the apple?" he continued between mouthfuls.

"There is a tree right across the stream. It was actually kind of strange, I was thinking about apples and then: there they were." I paused thinking, then I shook my head and strapped the sleeping bag on my pack. "Hey, pass over the pot and the other apple will you?" I settled down next to Zac and ate. We finished in silence.

We crested a hill and below us lay a sprawling town. It was more a cluster of mud and/or wood houses . . . basically: think medieval style. It was definitely not a town of the twenty-first century, America, or any other country, that I could tell.

It was later that day, we had traveled as long as the sun gave us enough light to see. We had luckily had good weather and traveled fast.

The sun was lowering in the sky over the strange land as we made our way slowly into the town, so we had to see if we could find lodging. To be frank, I was very scared, I would almost rather have just gone around it. I felt the town become still and many pairs of eyes rest upon us as we walked down the main dirt road .

"Tha's the way to treat 'em man! Get tha women t' do the work!" a rough taunting voice cut the silence referring to me carrying the pack. I looked over and saw a raggedly clothed dirty man, obviously drunk. Almost following his lead, others appeared on the street. The men wore loose trousers and shirts and the women long dresses, all made of a course, homespun material. Just the styles of their clothing distinguished them, but added to that was the way in which they obviously lived. They were farmers all, so were dirty from the days in the field. They had no "modern" facilities. They didn't know what electricity or bathrooms were. For them it was candles and outhouses or chamber pots. This all, could be seen just from their appearances.

The gathering crowd had a menacing silent feel to it which I didn't like at all, and I was offended by the man's words. From them I could tell a lot from the society and their standard of women, I had to be careful. I unconsciously drew toward Zac and he drew toward me until we were directly next to each other, almost as if we drew strength from the others' presence.

"Who be you?" The question was directed at Zac by an older balding man with a relatively kind face and piercing green eyes, he had a strange accent which I had never heard before.

"I . . . My name is Zac Hanson." Zac finally found his voice and firmly stated. His name was one thing he was sure of at that point.

"Is that ungrateful wench yours?" Another younger man hungrily asked, looking me up and down with an evil gleam in his eye. His comrades sniggered. The balding man who had spoken to us shot him a glance.

Zac paused for a second, one second that seemed like eternity to me as I thought he might not claim me. "Yes. Yes she is." He shot the other men a meaningful half challenging glance. I let out the breath I hadn't known I had been holding and gave Zac a half smile which he thankfully didn't catch. I had an overwhelming urge to hug him. I was not his, but these other people didn't have to know that. I think my safety depended on that lie.

"I am Kedrik Master Farmer of the village Leena. Welcome." The first man came forward and gripped Zac's forearm. Zac returned the grip at first a bit unsurely, then more firmly as he understood what was expected of him. "You are obviously strangers, your dress and speech are foreign to us."

"Yes . . . we are from a far land." That was the best Zac could come up with at the time. I could understand his confusion and I would have helped him if I could have, but I had the feeling it was not appropriate of a woman to interfere.

At this point much of the small crowd departed and went on with the tasks our arrival had interrupted. Only Kedrik and a small collection of people stayed. "We have never seen strangers such as you. So please forgive the crowd. I take it you would like lodging for the night?" Kedrik asked politely. At this point Zac looked at me and I nodded slightly.

Zac looked back at Kedrik and nodded. "Please."

"The Inn is right that way" he pointed, "You can't miss it. Good day to you." With that he walked away in an obvious dismissal. Zac and I exchanged glances. I got the feeling we had passed a test of sorts.

"I AM NOT yours," I whispered to him and marched off toward the Inn. He closely following with a slight grin on his face, "and wipe off that smirk," I couldn't help myself and I too smiled.

We made our way into the tavern of the Blue Sheep Inn. A gaudily dressed woman greeted us. Her bright red dress was low-cut, her bodice tightly laced and she had rouge galore on her cheeks. Zac couldn't help but look. I couldn't blame him, but all the same I wanted to slap him.

"What's your pleasure?" The woman directed at Zac with a seductive glint in her eye and a thrust forward of her chest to show her "wares". This time I decided to take over, after preventing myself from gagging, and spare Zac the effort. I didn't quite trust him in this case, he WAS only male.

"Well, I think we will take a room for the night and maybe some dinner if that's possible." That's when the woman noticed I was there. She lost some of her "outgoing" attitude and turned cold and quite rude.

"I suppose you would like to SHARE a room?" she demanded rather saucily.

"Well . . ." Zac was about to protest. He didn't quite understand the implications of this particular woman or what she was after.

"Yes of course." I interrupted him, giving him a look.

"Right this way." Zac and I followed her and she lead us to a small room with a not too clean looking bad and a washstand.

"Thank you . . . ." she had already left before I got my thanks out. I took off my pack and set it in a corner, I kept my knife on my belt. Then I turned my attention to Zac who had sat on the bed.

"Thanks" I said quietly to him.

"What for?"

"For saving my skin out there. I'm not sure if you caught it, but females aren't exactly highly regarded here."

"Oh . . . yeah. This is very very very strange. Exactly where do you think we are? When we are? What the heck is going on?" He stated that all very calmly, just confused, not angry.

"I wish I could answer those questions, but I'm asking them myself." I paused, "I suppose we should go down and see about some real food, I'm sick of that dehydrated crap. Just be careful of that 'girl' she's not as nice as you might think."

"And just remember: you are 'mine'." He grinned evilly at me and I playfully slapped him on the arm as he walked past me and out the door.

"In your dreams lover boy."