Summary: Missing the "Stranger" after he's been gone a month, Lizzie takes a risk and goes searching for him.

Warnings: I do not live in Scotland, nor have I ever visited there. If you find any errors in geography, slang, or word usage please let me know. This is also my first, and only, Dear Frankie piece, so comments are gratefully accepted.

"It's not that we're scared,

it's just that it's ... delicate ..."

- Damien Rice

Lizzie sat at one of the small tables in Marie's restaurant, sipping coffee over a pile of fish and chips they were sharing on one particularly slow Saturday afternoon. Finally, munching on a chip and flipping the words over and over in her mind, Lizzie asked the question she'd be longing to ask since he left four weeks ago.

"What is his name?"

"Kevin ..." Marie answered softly, as though she's been waiting for this moment. "Kevin Gainnes."

"Your last name is Giannes?"

"Shows how well you know me, friend." Marie shot her a mischievous grin.

Marie Giannes. It would take a little getting used to, after nearly three months of simply calling her "Marie" but there was something about it that felt ... right. Breaking off a piece of richly battered fish, Lizzie popped it in her mouth, and turned into the flurry of her thoughts once more.

"Why your brother?"

"Because, I knew I could trust him to be good to Frankie ... and you."

She missed him; Marie could see the sadness clearly in Lizzie's eyes. In fact, she hadn't really seen her friend smile since that night at the dance. It was the first time she'd seen Kevin smile in ... well, years really. The man wasn't used to smiling after all he'd been through with Deirdre.

"He lives up in Kirkcaldy; it's a small little place up on the coast. Bit of a shack, really but it has a lovely view of the ocean." Marie spoke almost absentmindedly but her gaze lingered steadily on Lizzie's face. "I know how to drive there."

"Do you now?"

"Aye." Marie returned to her coffee, but after a few moments she had to break the silence. "So … you wanna drive, or do I have to drag your arse up there?"

"I'll drive."

Marie set to packing up some suppers - extra chips for Frankie - and informing Nell. While Lizzie ran out of the restaurant to the grade-school to tell him of their excursion plans. Football practice would have to be missed, but somehow Lizzie doubted that he would mind.

It took us a bit over an hour to get to the coast, and as Marie carried a sleeping Frankie into the simple two-story home, I looked around to see where he might be. The house was empty, so I assumed he was probably out on the water. And after that thought, the next one that immediately collided with it was, "What if he's not here? What if he's shipped out somewhere all ready?"

Quietly I walked down the hill, with my thoughts swirling. Walking along the sands and dipping my toes into the ocean that ebbs and flows at the edge of the world. The view is simply ... panoramic. Cool blue waters and fresh open sky as far as my eyes could see. The salt was so heavy, its flavor invaded my mouth and nose. But somehow I didn't mind, because it tastes so alive. Like the freshness of his kiss.

I didn't hear his footsteps as he approached, not until his shadow was cast over my now bare feet. Even his shadow seems endlessly tall and encompassing. Turning to look at him, the sunset casts him in tones of pink, orange and gold. He looks like a misplaced knight from a child's fable. Endlessly long legs, broad shoulders, large hands, and warm green eyes.

"Kevin ..."

"Marie finally told you my name?" His smile makes my heartache in a way I've never felt before.

I nod, not knowing what to say. I have wanted to see this man for a month, and now all those things I wanted to say can't seem to find their way out of my mouth. But just when I feel as though the silence is becoming deafening, he closes the gap between us with his mile-long legs.

"I've missed you."

Tears well up in my eyes as he looks down at me, cupping my face in his rough but tender palms, green eyes swirling with emotions and tears barely held in place. Then, in a moment that seems to temporarily shake every inch of my skin from my bones; I let go. I let go of the breath I've been holding for the past decade. It's over. Finally, it is over. Davey is gone and I don't have to run any more. I don't have to be afraid.

I don't ask how we've come to be sitting on the wet sand. I don't question anything as he wraps his arms around me, and cradles me against his chest. We stay there, for how long I don't know. All I know is the feeling of his arms around me, the solidity of his frame. I can't remember the last time I was held. I've become so used to being the strong one, the solid one. It is amazing, simply to be held. Simply to know that he is there to hold me, welcoming me to curl up in his arms.

The kiss is sweet and slow, lips pressing together, slow deep breaths. Lingering close afterward, noses brushing cheeks while eyelids stay closed; holding in the magic. He doesn't say much, but when he does speak, that one word contains everything that he can't say.

"Stay."