Disclaimer: Totally not mine. Wished it was tho... sigh... GAbby rocks!

A/N: Anything in italics represents thought. Also, the time format goes as Days:Hours:Minutes. (Note the story's title, lol!) This is sort of an 'addition' to my previous story "The Coffin..." So if you haven't read that, it's not a big deal, b/c I'm sure you'll still be able to follow. (Hopefully!) ;-)

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Chapter 1

It had been 4 long days, 8 excruciating hours, 20 pain-staking minutes and he had no bloody idea how many seconds since he had left Abby sleeping so peacefully in her coffin. The time was engraved on his heart. (4:8:20) He didn't know if leaving her the ticket was a good idea or not. And frankly, doing so had scared the hell out of him, but he also knew he couldn't not leave it... so either way, he was screwed. And good. He tried to pass the days... but they were awfully long without her.

5:13:55... Damn...

Once he thought back on the mess that was his life... ex's that tried to maim him. A solid rep as a total bastard that no one even tried to deny because it was true. Lonely nights working on a boat just for the hell of it. People that went out of their way to avoid him. The people that he was closest to... he'd never even told them about Kelly and Shannon and... He sighed. Abby was a sweet girl, and she didn't need a mess like him. Not to mention that she may not have even understood what his offer had meant and... He sighed again. None of these thoughts were doing him any good.

6:11:03... Time moves so slowly...

He tried to brush useless thoughts from his head. Like the time, or what she thought when she woke up and found the note and ticket. Then a guilty feeling rushed through him because any thought of Abby's or any thought OF Abby was NOT a useless thought at all.

He stared a lot at the ocean.

7:15:45... she has a life, she has things to do, and work and...

He swore, every now and again, that he could almost make out shapes on the distant horizon. That deeper blue line that separated water and land was his focal point. Every time the ocean looked grey, he thought of Abby and her cute way of calling him her silver-haired fox. He wondered how true it was to her... or if she was just being her usual adorable self. Then he swore to himself because he just thought of the word 'adorable'. But... it was so clearly Abby, so then he decided it was a good thing, and left it alone.

8:4:32... What? You thought it would go faster?

He wondered... what was she doing? Would she come? Or would she just leave him to his thoughts? He had promised her that he would come back... maybe she didn't want to disturb him. That could be it. She knew he was sometimes all "mister cranky-pants". Maybe she figured he'd only left the ticket to appease her, and he didn't really want her to use it, and...

He wondered when his brain had made the transition to 'Abby thinking' without his realizing it.

He decided to stop watching the time. It was silly. She had the ticket, and the free choice to come or go. She had a life. People adored her, and she had no shortage of admirers. Why would she come to meet an old man in Mexico, any ways? He tried to convince himself that the thought didn't sting, and didn't bother him. The pale girl from London on vacation with her boyfriend that made him think of Abby... he tried to ignore her, even though he did sort of start up a mild friendship with her. She seemed to get that he was preoccupied with something, and he just hoped she didn't take it too personally.

9:13:13... heh... double 13's... wouldn't Abbs just love that?

Damnit.

His head was so full of her... she haunted his every waking moment... every pale-skinned, black haired girl was Abbs. He thought of her tattoos. Her laugh. Her smile. The way her eyes would get big when she was bursting to tell him something. The way she could talk your ear off without barely taking a breath. Sometimes he would swear he could see her... walking up the beach towards him, smiling shyly and... He lowered his head, tried to will his emotions into check. This would do him no good. She was too sweet... too open... she was far too good for him. It was better that she hadn't come. When he went back, he'd bring her souvenirs and tell her made-up stories about how great his trip was. He wouldn't think of all this again...

9:13:59... fuck...