9:06 a.m.: The thunk sound a television makes when it's turned on echoed in the room. Bed springs creaked softly as the covers shifted slowly. She watched to see if he'd stir. Satisfied that he wasn't, she turned up the volume slightly and began to watch.

9:24 a.m.: "Why are you watching this again?" He shifted in bed, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light.

"Because it's good."

"But, Price is Right ..." He slowly sat up, shoving the pillow against the headboard.

She gave him a look ad he knew his arguement was futile. Number one, she loved the show and number two, the look was lethal - he couldn't help but give in to the deep brown eyes.

She knew this, too. A grin spread on her face when she realized it, and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Oh, don't sulk. You know you like it, too."

He grunted. "They might do Plink-O."

"They did it yesterday. They won't do it again for a while."

"So? I didn't see it."

She raised her head, looking him in the eye. "Not my fault."

"I had to work."

Her grin turned playful. "And your work is so strenuous, Pace. Talk to me after an eight hour day with twenty 6-year-olds."

She rested her head back on his shoulder. He then leaned his head on hers.

"So what's up with Melanie and Chad today?"

10:17 a.m.: "Aren't you lucky?"

He carried two hot plates from the kitchenette into the bedroom, grining slyly. "Well, I realize."

She shook her head. "No. I mean, since you, um, cooked ..."

"This is cooking!" He handed her a plate, then sat down next to her on the bed.

"Taking things out of their styrofoam containers isn't cooking."

He pouted. "I drove there. That's gotta count."

She shrugged. "Well, McDonald's is a bit of a drive from here. I guess we can still watch Price is Right."

"Aw. You rule." He leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"I know." Grinning, she took a bite of her hashbrown.

Smiling, he relaxed into the headboard. He was content for a moment. Then a frown fell over his face. "Wait. Were you just turning for me, or did you just not want to watch the other show?"

Patting his hand, she smiled.

11:48 a.m.: "Mock.

"Yeah."

"Ing."

"Yeah."

"Bird."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

He paused, waiting to see if she would want to continue. The sun was shining, reflecting on the calm, blue waters of Lake Superior.

"Are we there yet?" she asked, smiling innocently. He didn't respond, keeping his eyes on the road. "I know. We still have 86..."

"83." He gave her a quick look, with a slight smile.

"Ooh! We drove five miles more!"

"It will get prettier soon."

She shook her head. "Nah, it's pretty now."

They took a turn and in front of them appeared a large rock cliff. In the cliff was a tunnel.

"Cool!" she breathed.

"Eh! I was right. I told you the drive wouldn't drag." They got in the middle of the tunnel. Only the lights on the wall gave any light. Then he honked the horn - echoing througout the tunnel.

"Pacey!"

He chuckled and did it again.

"Dork! The other people probably think you're mad at them or something."

"Nah. People do this all the time. They have to. It's too tempting not to." WIth that, he honked one more time before leaving the tunnel.

"Good. We're through."

He began to laugh louder once the second tunnel came into view.

1:28 p.m.: Splash!

"You need to snap your wrist, like this." He palmed the flat rock, positioning it just right before flinging it towards the calm water in the harbor. One, two, threefourfive.

She looked at the rock in her hand, doubtful she could do that.

"Here." He stepped up behind her, resting his chin on her left shoulder. His arms reached around front, positioning the rock correctly. "Keep your pointer finger on the edge." His right arm aligned with hers, slowly bringing it back and them forward. One, twothree.

His arms pulled her tighter to him, encircling her waist. Smiling, she turned her head towards his, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks teach."

2:08 p.m.: She held her hand out for his as she carefully stepped from rock to rock.

"Ooh, it's pretty out here." She sat down next to him, looking at the open water.

"I guess it's called Artist's Point for a reason." A wave crashed nearby and the mist drifted towards them.

"How did you hear about this place?" She smiled, watching the seagulls bob in the waves.

"Jack. He wasn't lying when he said he went everywhere last summer."

"Do you wish you had the chance to discover little towns like that?"

He paused, thinking. "Well, I am." She appeared confused, so he continued. "Not in the same way as most people."

"And that's okay with you?"

He paused. "I don't have much choice in the matter."

"I never said you did."

"No, that's true. And I'm sorry if that sounded harsh. But I guess I'll live with it. Can't change that now. I guess I'll just enjoy it when I can."

She leaned into him, her arm reaching around his waist. "Let's run away to Canada. It's only like 40 miles from here."

He laughed. "Sure. The solution to everything is running away to Canada."

"Well, we could at least have Macintosh Toffe and Aero bars."

5:34 p.m.: "The best pizza?"

He nodded, smiling. "Yup."

She shook her head. "But you've been all over the country ... scratch that, the world. And this mom and pop -."

"Sven and Ole's," he corrected.

"All right. But this place is better than all of those?"

He held the door as she walked inside. "Just you wait and see."

He walked up and ordered. Taking the plastic number, he led her into the dining room. She looked at the decorations on the walls and back at the bar.

"The Pickle Herring Club? Huh?"

He shrugged. "Some Norwegian thing, I think."

"Oh." Her eyes continued to scan the room, taking in the homestyle feel.

"You like?"

Nodding, she smiled. "Yeah. Such a change from the big cities."

He appeared confused. "The restaurant?"

"No. The whole place, the whole town. Thank you for bringing me here."

A server appeared, placing a steaming pizza in front of them.

"I'm glad you're having a good time."

She took a bite of pizza. "Mmm. You're right!"

He smirked. "I know. I rule."

7:48 p.m.: The fire popped and crackled, sending sparks into the air.

"Muph, mwama mideam."

She gave him a strange look. "Sure," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

He swallowed. "Good idea for marshmallows."

She smiled. "I know. I rule."

"Oh you're so funny."

"I know, I -."

"Rule. Yes."

She giggled. "I don't think today could get much better."

Sighing contently, he leaned back in his chair. "No, I don't think it could."

"You could've bought some World's Greatest Donuts."

"Tomorrow."

"Promise?" The fire popped again, casting an orange glow on both their faces.

"Promise."

She looked back at the RV sitting in the campsite. "This isn't really roughing it."

"No, it's not. But it beats sleeping on the ground."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure. It's nice of Jack and Doug to let us use this, though."

"Mmhmmm."

10:56 p.m.: "Look!" Her eyes were trained to the sky, a finger pointing at something.

"What?"

"A shooting star!"

"Where?"

"There!"

He looked closer. "I think I missed it." Both of their heads were turned upward now.

"There! I see one!"

She looked where he was looking. "I see!"

They brought their heads back down, staring deep into each other's eyes, trying to comprehend what they just saw.

A moment passed. "Did you make a wish?" she breathed.

He nodded. Taking her hand, they walked inside the RV.