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I discovered early into our friendship that CJ is one of the nurturing types; he likes to help when he can and he's not happy unless he's doing something to make the world a better place. As far as all the Dogs I've ever known, CJ is probably one of the deepest thinkers and sometimes that worked to his disadvantage. During our three hour trip to the camp site he had picked for our second outing we didn't say much. I think he was still caught up in whatever he had on his mind at the shop and I was preoccupied with trying to figure out how to help.

It was early evening by the time CJ and I had hiked to our camp site. Unlike our previous trip we were barely more than a mile from the turnout where the truck was parked. In addition to all the previous camping gear, CJ had thought to bring a cooler and a collection of folding chairs; I was also better equipped thanks to my stop at Green-Field's. It took us each three trips to handle all of the gear, which wasn't too bad since the ground was relatively flat.

CJ only started talking in earnest during our last trip back to camp. I had my sleeping bag in one arm and my sleeping pad in the other. CJ, who was carrying the cooler, glanced sidelong at me with a smirk, "Got a pad this time, huh?"

"Better than having to gather up a bunch of leaves and pine boughs." I responded, adjusting my grip on the sack that continued the rolled-up pad, "I'm no Bear-Grill and this isn't Dog Versus Wild."

The rottweiler gave me a questioning look and I realized I'd let my Discovery Channel addiction slip, "He's a host... it's a show." I explained as casually as I could manage.

"Oh... right." he acknowledged, "The Rhodesian Ridgeback survival expert." Apparently I had a surprised expression on my face because his ears raised slightly, "What?" he asked with a smirk, "You think just because I'm a blue-collar mechanic I can't watch educational TV now and again, college-boy?"

I laughed in response to his playful jab and shouldered him in response, "I didn't figure you the survivalist type."

"Says the guy who almost froze to death during our last camping trip." CJ countered, his tongue lolling out of the side of his muzzle mirthfully, and he shouldered me back. "Anyway, I watch it for the chopper shows and the gun shows."

"I like Dirty Jobs." I admitted, despite my embarrassment.

CJ laughed at that, "You and me both." and he led the way into our cleared camp site, "I got hooked when I saw an episode of him working with a military maintenance crew."

The humor lasted another half hour as he got the tent put together and I started our campfire. We joked back and forth about which was geekier: watching a show about tattooed mechanics yelling at each other or a show with an ex-special forces English-accented Dog showing people how to get through certain survival scenarios. In the end we called a truce by acknowledging that Mike Rowe 'kicked ass' as a host about messy careers. By the time CJ had the grill-stand pulled out, however, things had quieted down.

At CJ's direction, I went to the ice chest and pulled out a package of hot dogs while he gathered the cooking gear. We traded spots and I started grilling and he dug around in the bag he brought, pulling out buns, condiments, and some paper plates. I had to admit that CJ's foldable camping grill worked a LOT better than the one I'd come up with the last time we went camping, but I couldn't help taking the opportunity to say something, "Had a problem with the pan-fried hotdogs last time, huh?"

"Hmm?" he asked, glancing my way. When our eyes met I realized suddenly that he had fallen back into his mental funk, "Oh... yea..." he offered a faint smile, "Just figured it'd be easier." and he came back to the fire, setting his armful of dinner items on a log. "Be right back." he noted, and returned to the ice chest.

I pondered the Dog's mood as I stared at the fire. Something was bothering CJ and had been since before I'd arrived at his garage. Whatever he had on his mind wasn't letting go but, as I replayed our interaction that day in my head, I realized he wasn't interested in talking about it. CJ is one of those Dogs who would give you the shirt off his back, but if he was cold he would bite his own tongue to keep his teeth from chattering. As I watched him sorting through the ice box, I hoped that his mood would improve by the end of the weekend, and that, hopefully, the camping would do him some good.

"What?" he asked glancing back over his shoulder when he caught me staring at him.

"Nothing." I answered.

CJ stood up, a beer bottle in either paw, and made his way back to the fire, "You were giving me 'a look'." he stated, offering me one of the beers; he took a seat after I accepted it.

"It looked like you had something stuck on your butt." I answered, then added with a smirk, "Turned out it was just your tail."

"So you're staring at my butt now, are ya?" he countered without even a moment's thought, raising his bottle to his muzzle; CJ was always so easy going I often forgot how quick witted he was.

"At least I don't--" I began, but the round of banter was interrupted when my cell phone buzzed. I gave CJ a questioning look as I pulled it out of my pocket.

"Reception works fine here." he explained, motioning to a mountain silhouetted in the darkning sky, "Cell tower."

Checking the caller info I froze: Elizabeth. Elizabeth... the girl I'd left home for. Elizabeth... the most important part of my life for almost a decade. Elizabeth... the driving force behind almost every decision I'd made since high school. Elizabeth... the woman who pretty much destroyed my life single handed.

"Well?" CJ asked, "You gonna answer it or let it go to voic email?" only once he actually asked the question did I realized that I'd sat staring at the screen for three rings.

I took a long swig of my beer then hit the talk button and brought the phone to my ear, "Hello?" There's a certain tone of voice that people with caller ID have... it's the one that says 'I know who you are but for whatever reason I'm going to make you tell me who you are before I call you by name'. That was the tone I used.

"Derek?" it was unmistakably her voice, though there was a lot of loud music in the background... which didn't surprise me, "That's you, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yea... it's me." I answered, speaking louder. The increase in volume caught CJ's attention; I saw him looking at me. Turning around to infer I was looking for privacy, I couldn't help but roll my eyes-- SHE called ME... who else would pick up?

"Oh... good!" she said in that bubbly-tone of hers that hinted at her carefree view of life, "Just calling to let you know that I'm doing well." she offered, then added like it was an afterthought, "Because I know you care and all."

"Glad to hear it." I confirmed in what I had hoped would be a flat, emotionless tone.

She sighed, and added, "You really fucked things up you know."

"So you keep telling me." I answered in as even a voice as I could manage; Elizabeth had a way of saying the wrongs thing in the right way.

"I don't hold it against you, Dee..." she offered in a plaintive tone, then I heard her clearly talking away from the phone, "Gimme a minute, lover... I'm on the phone." before talking to me again, "You're just a little too needy."

"Who's that?" I asked, having lost any sense of civility by that point, "Craig, Joe, or Brandon?"

"Tony." she answered, "I don't see Craig or Brandon anymore, and Joe isn't club material." and, she added bluntly, "he's more of a fuck buddy."

"Whatever makes you happy." I said, attempting to sound as uninterested as possible, though I'm sure it came out as more of a growl.

"Aww..." I could hear her smile in her words, "You're not still upset about us, are you, Dee?"

"About us?" I asked, "No... of course not." it was a bad lie, of course, "I already got a full refund on the ring and I moved on."

"It isn't that you're a bad guy, Derek, I just need my space, and you--" she noted, stopping mid sentence as she talked away from the phone again, "No... an ex." Somewhere off amidst the pounding music in the background I heard a male voice, followed by Elizabeth laughing, "Nah... he asked me to marry him." and her comment was followed by joint laughter. Feeling my whole body shake with rage it was all I could do to pull the phone away from my ear and press the END button.

"Everything alright?" CJ asked from his place by the fire, looking at me with his ears perked.

I took a deep breath before answering through clenched teeth, "Fine."

"Your heart-rate is up and you're breathing heavier." he pointed out, "Based on the look on your face, I'd say that you aren't 'fine'."

"Land Lord from my place back in Chicago..." I answered,"I'm not getting my deposit back." and I stuffed the phone back into my pocket trying to avoid his gaze; I'm not a good liar.

"You're not a good liar." CJ confirmed, standing, "What's up?"

"There are some things I liked about Chicago more than others..." I noted, taking a drink from my beer.

"And that was one of the ones you didn't?" he asked.

"That's the problem." I answered, downing another gulp, "That's the one I liked the most."

"And...?" he invited.

I downed the rest of the beer with another swig, "She didn't like me the same way."

"Oh..." CJ's ears drooped slightly, "I guess that--" and his words were interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing again. He fell silent, taking his seat on a log again as I pulled my cell back out.

"Hello?" I asked in that same no-nothing tone. I hadn't looked at the caller ID but I didn't need to; it was her.

"Hey Derek... we got disconnected." Elizabeth explained.

"What do you want, Liz?" I demanded; I'd left Chicago because I was tired of her games but apparently she hadn't taken the hint.

"I don't hate you, you know." she offered.

"That's good to know." I answered.

"You're not mad at me for turning you down, are you?" she asked me.

"I'm more angry about you cheating on me." I answered, "And I thought we went over this already."

"We did." she agreed, "Which is why I'm surprised you're still angry... I mean... I already told you, you never said you wanted a closed relationship."

"You were my girlfriend! We lived together for Christ's sake!" I exploded, shouting into the phone, "That means we're in a committed relationship, god damn it!"

She sighed, "Derek... I just can't talk to you when you get like this." and the line disconnected.

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" I roared, my voice echoing my frustration back to me from around the valley.

"OOOooooookay." CJ noted, standing up and heading to the cooler, "Someone needs another beer."

Two beers later, I had finally calmed down and was willing to talk. CJ sat across from me as he took the hot dogs off of the grill and let me vent. "Elizabeth was the whole reason I went to Chicago in the first place."

"Not for college?" he asked.

"That too..." I shrugged, "but I could have done that pretty much anywhere." I sighed, starting on my fourth bottle, "Liz was going to Chicago so I was able to go and get Liz and school all in one move."

CJ nodded, ears perked as he watched me attentively, food set off to the side and forgotten. He gave me his full, undivided attention. CJ is one of the few people I know who would stop whatever he was doing and make you the most important part of his day if you need him and, at that time, I really did.

"We were together through my entire series of degrees and well into my new job by the time I finally decided things were settling down enough that I could... you know... pop the question." I explained, "I found the right ring; I made reservations at our favorite restauraunt; all our friends knew what I had planned... it was going to be perfect."

I finished off the last of my fourth beer and dropped the bottle next to the others as I let out a sigh, "She found the ring two days before I was going to ask her... and you know what she said?"

"What did she say?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"She said 'I hope this isn't an engagement ring.'." I scowled.

"Ouch." he noted.

"Exactly." I sighed, moving from sitting on the log to sitting on the ground, leaning back against it, "She said she wasn't ready to get married."

"And you'd been together how long?" CJ asked.

"The better part of ten years." I answered.

"Why wasn't she ready?" the rottweiler questioned.

"That's the part that's really fucked up." I scowled. I'm not usually one to curse, but I was beyond caring at that point, "We had an apartment together, and we lived together... we even had a god damn joint bank account..." I had to take a deep breath to steady myself, "But to her, I was just 'one of her boyfriends'."

"ONE of her boyfriends?" CJ repeated.

"Right." I confirmed, "She told me that she didn't think marriage was right for her because that meant that she could only see me and not anyone else." I took a moment to let out a few breaths before continuing, feeling a lot of the emotions of the event start to resurface, "She said that what we had was already good, and that if she married me she'd have to give up seeing the other guys she dated."

"You didn't know she was seeing other men?" CJ asked.

At that point, I wasn't really up to answering the question. I covered my face in my hands and cried. Despite how much I thought I was over Elizabeth, apparently I was wrong. A few moments later, CJ sat down next to me on the ground, and slid an arm around my shoulder, "That's not cool." he offered comfortingly.

Something about the statement made me laugh. It wasn't a full-belly, deep-seated laugh... it was more like a pitiful half-cackle, but it allowed me to continue, "You know the worst part?"

"That wasn't the worst part?" he asked, lowering his muzzle to rest atop my head.

"After I moved out she told our friends that she had kicked me out... that I was too controlling." I sighed, closing my eyes as I fought to regain control. My tears stopped, but I didn't feel much better.

"You?" he asked, "Controlling?"

"Emotionally abusive apparently." I added, "I got emails and voice mails for a week telling me how much of a royal ass I was and how Elizabeth was too good for me."

"They got it backwards." CJ noted, slowly removing his chin from my head so he could look me in the eye, "She might be skilled at telling a good story or convincing people of her point of view but that doesn't make her a good person."

"But it does help her with destroying ten years of my life." I countered.

"It just paved the way for something new." he pointed out.

"Ten years..." I repeated with a sigh, "...but at least I found out BEFORE we got married."

"And before you had kids." CJ added.

"Oh god... TAHT would have been..." I paused, looking for the right words. I ended up using his, "very 'not cool'." Despite myself, I joined him in his laughter.

CJ and I ate our hot dogs in near silence. He started on his third beer while I pondered having a fifth. I had just stood up to head to the cooler when my cell sounded off again. Enough time had passed that I realized it was probably someone else... but when I pulled the phone out I could do nothing but scream out my frustration when I saw that it was Elizabeth... again.

I just started shouting profanities to the phone when I felt CJ's paw rest on my shoulder, "Send it to voice mail." he suggested.

"But it--"

"Voice mail." he repeated, "You left Chicago to get away from her... so stop inviting her back into your life."

"She won't--"

"Voice mail." he stated again, and my thumb found the button without me looking at the screen.

"Good human." he smirked.

"Just shut up and get me a beer." I grumbled.

The night continued on and, after Elizabeth tried calling again, I finally took CJ's continued advice and turned my cell off. He brought a dozen bottles of beer and he made due with four while letting me find comfort in haze of alcohol and friendship. The rottweiler pointed out more than once that he didn't usually approve of people getting drunk while camping, and I pointed out more than once that I wasn't that much of a lightweight.

At the beginning of the trip I had been worried about CJ; he was preoccupied with whatever problem was banging around inside his skull, but I finally realized how to solve the issue; as it turned out, the problem was resolved by a source I was used to having cause them. By assisting me in letting go of my frustrations and anger (at least for awhile), CJ was able to get past his own issues by helping me with mine. We talked until the moon was past mid-sky, huddled close to the fire to keep away from the touch of the chilled night air.

When we were ready to go to bed there was no talk about my sleeping bag's inferiority; CJ got undressed and slid into his sleeping bag, holding it open as an invitation. I stripped down to my boxers and joined him, snuggling against his furry body as I zipped the sleeping bag closed. The mental haze of alcohol was nothing compared to the comforting physical warmth of CJ as he slid an arm around me.

"Hey, Derek?" he asked quietly.

"Hmm?" I called, having practically fallen asleep before he had a chance to speak.

"I'm sorry... for everything." the dog noted, resting his muzzle atop my head protectively.

"Why?" I asked with a chuckle, "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I'm just sorry it had to happen to you." he answered. He was quiet for almost a minute before he added, "Whatever the reason you found your way to Pawford, I'm glad you're here." and he licked my cheek.

I yawned, smiling at the slow movement of the world in those quiet moments, "Me too." I acknowledged.

I felt CJ's chest brush against my back every time he inhaled. I could feel his heart-beat when he pulled me a few inches closer. The pads on his paws gripped my shoulders gently as he wrapped himself around me like a comforting furry blanket. It was enjoyable in a way that was completely zen; I didn't even mind the feel of the furry lump between his legs brushing against the small of my back. Things were strangely calming... serene... relaxed... tranquil... peaceful.

"CJ?" I called, though I'm pretty sure my voice came out as a mumble.

"Hnh?" he acknowledged, his own tone laden with sleep.

"Thanks."