Megan trudged into the kitchen, her hair falling out of her messy pony tail and dark circles framed her eyes. A small laugh escaped Ally's lips as she noticed that she had put her slippers on the wrong way around.
"Tired?" She asked her.
Megan let out a huge yawn and nodded in answer. "Dylan woke me up when he had a shower and I couldn't go back to sleep after that." She rubbed at her eyes. "Who takes a shower at two in the morning anyway?"
At that moment, he strode into the kitchen. He placed his hands on Ally's face and kissed her hard on the mouth. "I was dirty, I had to wash." He told his sister.
"For forty-five minutes?"
He shrugged his shoulder, "I obviously like my showers then." He gave Ally a discreet wink and she tried to hide her smile but failed. "Do you have work today?" He asked, she shook her head. "Well, as you were there last night, I was wondering if you wanted to come to the debrief to get an idea of what happened and then afterwards I've got something for us to do."
She nodded her head enthusiastically; she wanted to have a better understanding of his role down at the station. "Sounds good."
Down at the station, Ally curled herself on the old sofa and patiently sat there absorbing everything that was being said. They talked about what had happened and what they could have done better. It was fascinating and her appreciation for the volunteers grew with each passing minute, especially for Dylan, as it seemed he had risked the most to save the victim — who was now in a stable condition in hospital. After the meeting, he took her hand and led her out of the station, picking up a huge rucksack as he did. "So, what did you think?"
"It was amazing." She admitted. "I can't believe the work you guys do, risking your lives to save others. It's very honourable, Dyl."
He smiled down at her. "Too right." He joked. "Now, Wright, are you ready for your next adventure?"
She didn't know why but his question made her feel uneasy and she hesitantly answered, "yes?"
Reaching into his rucksack he pulled out a pair of pink walking boots and handed them to her. They were her size. "Put them on." He ordered. "They're safer than the shoes you're currently wearing."
She looked down at her high heeled boots and sighed; they were so pretty that she didn't want to take them off. "Fine," she humphed. "What are we doing?"
"You'll see," was his only answer.
An hour later they were hiking across the soaring cliffs, soaking in the complete beauty of the Jurassic coast. The burn in her lungs and the cramps in her muscles were starting to slowly destroy her and she was trying her damn hardest to hide her struggles from Dylan. His hand softly resting on the bottom of the back, pushing her gently, told her she wasn't hiding it very well. The small push on her back was helping her to keep moving forward, he knew she needed the support. They seemed to be walking with no sense of direction, just following the edges of the cliffs. It wasn't until Dylan stopped and started emptying his bag that she realised he had been guiding them to a particular spot. Leaning over the cliffs edge, she looked down and recognised where they were: Dancing Ledge. At the bottom of the cliff was a stone ledge, covered in grass that went out to sea. They used to come here as kids. She looked back at Dylan who had started to tie a rope to a nearby tree, a couple of harnesses were scattered at his feet.
"Please say this isn't what I think it is."
He looked at her, "what do you think it is?"
"I am not climbing down." She told him. "Are you bloody made? There's a slop that leads down to it if we kept walking on."
