The grass was so green. So very, very green and the sun shone so brightly that it was almost blinding in its radiance. He gazed about him, confused, lost, wondering where he was and in the distance he saw a figure walking towards him. Closer and closer. And the sun seemed to follow her as she moved, dressed in flowing white. A cloud peeked over the sun for a flash and he saw that it was Katie, her hair was tousled by the wind that was blowing softly about her. Her lips moved, but he couldn't hear the words. She smiled brilliantly at him, more love glowing from her eyes, from her presence, from her very soul than he had ever seen in his life. Upon her flaxen hair lay a crown of daisies and the yellow orb amidst the center of the white petals was the exact shade of the sun that now consumed the sky.

Peace reigned in the air and she reached up, pressing a soft hand to his face, "I love you, Simon" she whispered quietly and he shook his head. She wasn't supposed to love him. She was not supposed to love him. Thunder roared suddenly and lightning flashed. Tears slid silently down her cheeks. He spun around and the green, green grass had disappeared; all around him was dark, golden sand, waves of undulating midnight blue crashed against the shore and he could see a cave in the distance.

A hand tapped against his shoulder and he turned to find Katie standing so close to him and the tears were gone from her face, her hair was still tousled and the grass was behind her once more ... green, green, so very green under the blinding hue of the sun. He shut his eyes: this wasn't real and he flinched from the touch of her hand, he opened his eyes and the tears had returned. And the sun was gone in a flash of lightning, the thunder crashing, crashing, drowning her words. The grass was brown, brown, fading, turning to dark golden sand and he could hear the waves crashing once more upon the shore.

He gazed at Katie, the sadness falling over her like a shroud, and her hair, still flaxen, still shining despite the lack of sun, still tousled was now without the flowers. And she shook her head back and forth, her words coming slowly and as she spoke each one he felt it pass in the air between them as if moving through water. "You promised me. Simon, you said that you would weave me a crown of daisies. You said that I was your queen."

"You said that I was your queen, your queen, your queen ..." and her voice faded as the thunder grew and then she was gone and he was left alone standing on the sand, all hint of green and sun gone from the vista. Turning around, he looked into the distance of the crashing waves, spun in the other direction, searching for a spot of green, green grass. And it was there, he could see it. And there was more color there, but the colors were blurred and he ran towards it. Desperate, needing, desperately needing to reach the patch of green. As he got closer, the colors became distinct. Upon the green, grew wild daisies and in the center of the green, sitting demurely in her dress of flowing white was Katie.

And then a wave came thundering across the sand and washed her away.

"Katie!" Simon sat up, his breathing heavy as his eyes adjusted to the dark room about him. Looking over at the alarm clock,he saw that it was three in the morning, and day seven since Katie had taken off for the island. Running a hand over his face, he laughed wearily, muttering to himself, "This is ridiculous. This is Katie." He shouldn't be dreaming inexplicable dreams about her, shouldn't be losing sleep over her, shouldn't be finding many a thought consumed with her.

But he was ... to all of the above. And he was finally coming to grips with the whole situation. With Holden gone, he had no way of finding the coordinates for that damn island, nor any money to try and find it himself. Not surprising since Craig had reneged on paying him, and his wife's family found it easier to let Katie stew in mistakes of her own making rather than lend a hand. Her loving brother's very words had been: "let her suffer and roast on whatever God-forsaken island she's managed to lose herself on for a few weeks. It might teach her a lesson or two."

Well, it might at that -- it was also teaching him his own lessons. Such as: 'never say never.' Such as the fact that he missed his wife. A lot. Such as Katie had made his day, his life brighter. Such as she had become so much a part of his world that her absence was more jarring than he could have ever possibly imagined. Such as that even Lily crying on his shoulder about Holden and her son wasn't enough to keep thoughts of just where exactly his wife was from creeping into his mind. Or how about the fact that, disreputable rake that he was, the idea hadn't once crossed his mind that Lily was available physically and down the road would be emotionally until Craig had snidely pointed out the good luck that he and Lily had managed to lose their respective spouses all within the same month.

It was in that moment, the implications of that realization that Simon made a rather startling discovery. He didn't want Lily. Not anymore: too much water under the bridge, she'd chosen Holden over him -- and it had been Holden, not the kids, not the family, not Oakdale's opinion, but simply Holden. He, Simon, would always be her second choice. He still loved her, always would because she had shown him that he was capable of love -- but he wasn't in love with her anymore. The kind of passion he'd felt for her had been this great fire consuming him and eventually it had burnt out with nothing there to fan the flames. Their last meeting at the Old Mill had been the last dying embers and from that end he had begun a new life without even realizing it. Opening himself up to the possibility of a new love.

And Katie had been waiting.

Now, he wasn't in love with Katie -- but for the first time since they'd met, he could see it happening. He could see himself needing her, wanting her, wanting to be with her. And she did take care of him, did look out for him. She made him smile and laugh. She made him ... she made him happy and went out of her way to do so. No one had ever done that for him before. Ever. Not his family, not his ex-wives and fiancee's (who all just wanted a pretty boy on their arm or in their bed). Not even Lily.

Only Katie. And it took her disappearance and the availability of Lily to make him realize that if it came right down to it and he had to choose ... he would choose Katie. After hearing her talk about Holden, the lack of the fire restarting within himself, he honestly believed now that if he and Lily were to ever hook up, in a matter of months, they'd be history. They didn't have anything really other than that passion -- and it's a sad, but true fact that passion does not last forever. But Katie -- Katie he could see himself with two years, five years down the road still enlivening his life, still being there for him and vice versa. With Katie, he could see a life ... a real life -- the same thing that she had seen all along.

And she wasn't here to share that life with because she was off trying to find his damn diamond that had sunk to the bottom of the ocean a year ago. Laying back down, Simon sighed heavily. "Katie, Katie, Katie," he murmured softly, "what I'm going to do when I get you back?" And while it would have surprised him a month ago, the fact that the first thought that popped into his head was a recreation of their first Halloween together -- but on a bed and not in a convertible -- didn't faze him in the least now. It had been one kiss, but that little test the day before she'd left had initiated a fire within him that had continued to grow steadily. There was definitely something between them.

He just needed to find her before that 'them' could be put into practice and this bed could finally be put to use. Smiling despite his earlier dark thoughts, Simon imagined the hell that he must have put Katie through these last six months considering he'd only been aching for a week now. Throwing his arm out, his smile died as the absence of his wife jumped to the forefront of his mind once again. Shaking his head, he promised himself that he would try and talk to Margo tomorrow again. Maybe her sister, the cop, would take the situation more seriously than her good-for-nothing, scumbag brother.

Closing his eyes, he hoped for a brief moment that his dreams of Katie would be of the more illicit nature, rather than the pseudo-psychological headtrip he'd had earlier. He knew that it would be one or the other. All he did now was dream about Katie.