Jack watched Rapunzel open her wide bay window from a distance, from where he was hidden behind a large chunk of rock. He scrutinized her face for the reaction. She smiled to herself the minute her eyes landed on the ice-coated wildflower, and picked it up gingerly, as if it would break. Two rose petals unfurled on her cheeks as she stroked the flower's frozen petals. The small flower held a message: Meet me tonight. And her blush held the answer.

Yes.


Jim could smell the chicken burning from half a mile away on his walk home.

The smell was revolting, but it still made the young man smile, maybe even a little bit dreamily. He picked up the pace as he caught sight of the small white brick cottage at the edge of town, closer to the port than any other house. He loved the little cottage because it was far enough away from the city that all the stars were bright and clear on any given night, and the smell of ozone and solar power burning away in the engines on the ships always inflitrated the air.

A matching ivory picket fence encircled the cottage. Jim bumped the loose gate latch open with his hip and stepped into the neatly trimmed yard. There wasn't a stone path leading to the entrance, just a tidy dirt one. He whistled a song that Silver had sung all the time in the galley onboard the RLS Legacy as he crossed through the threshold of the front door, kicked off his dirt-sodden boots and hung up his old black coat.

Oh Susan, Susan, lovely dear
My vows for ever true remain,
Let me kiss off that falling tear,
We only part to meet again;
Change as ye list, ye winds, my heart shall be
The faithful compass that still points to thee.

"Hello?" he called out when he finished his tune. He glanced up and down the short hall, into the cozy living room where a fire was crackling in the hearth, and then the bedroom and ajoined bathroom. "Hello? Anyone home? Chicken's burning."

Suddenly, the bathroom door flung open and a flustered young woman burst out, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around her fiery red locks and a fluffy robe on her petite frame. Both jumped, startled.

"Jim!" she cried. She placed a hand over her heart, as if to try and slow it down. "I was taking a bath, because it's-"

"Our anniversary," he said softly, nodding. He ambled over to where she stood and snagged her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. She gasped then grinned and threw her arms around his neck. He pressed a dozen kisses across her cheeks, forehead, and nose. Brushing a curl out of her eyes, he whispered, "I remembered."

She giggled. They lingered for another moment, touching, kissing, and whispering sweet promises until Ariel's cerulean eyes flew open and she screeched, "The chicken!"

They both rushed into the kitchen, where black smoke was billowing out of the oven in heaps. Ariel grabbed ovenmitts and pulled the scorched bird out, plunking it on the counter with a pout on her rosy lips.

"This was supposed to be our anniversary dinner!" she cried. She turned to look at her husband. "What are we going to eat now?"

Jim grinned. He pulled a thin slip of paper out of his back pocket and handed it to her. "Well, I already had something else in mind."

Ariel grabbed the ticket. "A reservation! Oh, Jim!" She immediately wrapped him in one of her famous restricting hugs, but Jim didn't try to break free of it. This was just one of the many things Jim Hawkins loved about his wife, and something he would never dare to change.