Hello! another weird one shot from me. I promised Zai I was going to update a fic last night but ended up writing this instead. Hope you like it!

PS. One shot but in a different thread because i love it enough to give it a separate one :D

Cross posted from Tumblr. Unbetaed. Set in the 1900s.

Enjoy!

Cora Levinson only has one shot at freedom, and she knows that she needs to execute her plans accordingly to attain it. She is well aware of all the dangers and the risks, has even calculated the consequences should she get caught, but she's not the one to be deterred, not really the one to back out, especially not now, not when everything she's worked for and tried to live for is at stake.

She tries to think of other ways that she could have prevented this, tries to think of other ways in which she can escape, but there is none. She's stuck with the life she's living, and she is tired, so very tired of it. She needs to escape. She needs a life of her own.

But to be able to do that, she needs to be cunning, needs to deceive a lot of people and pull it off like a pro. She's not a terrible liar, not if she can fool the people into believe that she's okay then she must be a pretty great actress (that or that the people she's surrounded herself with people who simply do not care), but she's not great at pulling off acts like this. At least, she's never tried before and is therefore, unaware at how great or how badly it would end up.

It could be a disaster.

But then, it could be her only ticket to freedom.

Either way, she's not to know until she's tried, and that is exactly what she's going to do—try.

Wrapped in her thickest shoal, and bringing but the lightest of her things and some of her more important possessions along with the money she's going to need, she runs out into the night and down to the docks. She'd not manage it without her trusty lady's maid, the same woman she's bringing with her now as they run towards the ship. Cora can hear the sound of the horns, a signal that it would be departing, and it spurs her on, makes run a little bit faster. Her maid, Baxter, runs not so far behind, and for a moment, Cora has a terrifying vision of people following her, his people. Yet they are only visions, and when she focuses herself on the present, she finds herself closer to the stairs that would lead her to her freedom.

"Come on, Baxter," she tells her maid, who is honestly more a friend to her and someone she's giving a second chance at living too, and she smiles now, feeling and tasting the freedom she's been deprived of for so long.

They stop, panting, just before the man who's to check their passes, and she presents them to him, along with a beaming smile that offers innocence. They're likely to get caught, she knows that. Anyone who knows him would know who she is as well, and might tip him off, but maybe if she pretends…

"Wait, I know you," the man says, and Cora feels her heart sink to her stomach, her hopes and dreams drifting away from her and cast about in the ocean where she's not likely to find them. "You're…"

"Someone you know?" her maid supplies and Cora barely represses the groan that threatens to spill from her lips. So much for a cover, since the man's eyes lit up in recognition. "I–She must just look like someone you've seen before."

The man's brows furrow. Cora bites her lip. There is a moment of silence and beat that passes before the man breathes out and steps aside, scratching his head, as though thoroughly confused.

"Ah, very well," he says, letting them move away as he hands them their ticket.

Cora sighs in relief.

They are the last, it seems, as the man ushers them inside quickly. Both Cora and Baxter (Phyllis, she reminds herself) walk inside, right into the lower cabin, but Cora looks back and watches as the stairs ascend, only to be halted by a loud yell.

"Halt!" a man's voice says, and it's loud and familiar, and makes Cora's blood grow cold. She looks at her companion wide eyes, seeing the same look of fear in her eyes. God, why can't they have been quicker?

With a nudge on her shoulder, Phyllis urges her to run, to find a place to hide. She is still for a moment, dread overtaking her faculties, before she's realized that no, this is her way to freedom and she'll be damned (not that she's supposed to say that word) if she would just hand it over without a fight. With a promise to meet up at the same place later, both women turn and run, looking for a place to hide.

Cora isn't entirely sure where she's headed, isn't entirely familiar with the ins and outs of the ship, only knows that now is not the time to find out, so she runs up, up, and up another floor, panting and praying to god that she makes it through this.

But as luck would have it, it so happens that there are no rooms in this particular floor, and she's getting more and more desperate when she hears the thudding from the floor below. The boat has not moved, and she knows that it's because they are still here, searching every inch for her. It makes her want to jump of the damn boat and just swim her way out of this damned country, and she truly would, if only she knew she would succeed at that.

When she's about to give in and surrender, divine mercy intervenes, and she finds a solitary room. Fortunately for her, it is open and she turns the lock and bursts inside without a thought of who might be in there. It's only for a while, surely they can spare her.

She looks behind her and finds that it's empty. It's also very dim save for one lamp that stood in its lonesome atop the bedside table. The room has its own bath, it seems, as she hears the water from inside. She quietly tiptoes into the corner and waits.

It doesn't take long before there is a knock on the door, but it does take some time before a man emerges from the bathroom and opens the door. It's apparent that he doesn't see her at first and he opens the door, only to find two official looking men hovering at the door. He's wearing nothing but a bathrobe and an irritated look on his face. Clearly, he's no patience for this. Neither does she, to be honest.

"Have you seen this woman?" one of them asks, and Cora assumes that they show this other man a picture of her on charcoal or painting.

The man looks confused for a second, before he shakes his head. One of the other two men outside asks if they could do a quick search, and the man looks around his space, frowns, and then a beat later spots her from her hiding place. His eyes widen a fraction, before his eyebrows furrow. Cora raises her index finger to her lips, pleading at him with her eyes to keep his silence.

The man turns back to the two men before him, and for a moment Cora fears that he'd rat her out. But then he surprises her when he speaks.

"Gentlemen, as you can see, I'm not dressed and am ready for bed, surely this can wait till morning?" he asks them as a way to stall them for sure.

"It can't wait till morning," one of the men says, and he sounds definite in that statement. He's probably right.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I can't let you in here," this man who doesn't know her but is trying his best to protect her tells the other two who are quite unknowingly bringing her to a prisoner's life.

"It'll take but a minute," the other one says, quite insistent now. They are probably in some strict order that they should comb through every room and every corner to find her.

"That is a minute of my life you're going to waste," he says. "And I'm quite tired. I've got a long journey ahead of me back to England. I'd fancy some peace now, if you would leave, I'd be delighted."

Though she cannot see it, Cora hears the groan come from both men as they acquiesce. They move away and the door closes behind them. Cora breathes easier. Escaping New Port suddenly seems to be more attainable that it had been merely minutes ago.

That is until…

"Who the bloody hell are you?" the man with gorgeous blue eyes (she's only now noticed them) asks her as he stands by the door, glaring at her.

"Hey, you needn't be so loud," she says with indignation as she stands up from her corner and dusts off her skirt. "I can very well hear you."

The man rolls his eyes, shoulders heaving with exasperation. "Not quite the answer I was looking for," he tells her.

"I don't have any business talking to strangers," she says primly though even she knows how off shot that is.

"You barged into my room," he snaps at her.

"Well maybe you shan't have left it open," she snaps back. She notices rather belatedly that he has a gorgeous accent. Why must this infuriating man be so gorgeous anyway?

"I just lied for you," the man says, walking towards her with a chagrined expression on his face. He's lost all his patience by now, and Cora stands on her feet, scared, trembling and unsure. Surely he won't hit her? "You better start talking."

Cora sighs and looks down. It's best if he doesn't know. He's lied for her once, she's not going to put him in a position that he has to again.

"I can't tell you," she murmurs, looking up at him once more. She feels the desire to get lost in his blue eyes, but…wait…no, this cannot be right. "It's best if you don't know, really."

His nostrils flare and she can see his fists clench. She wishes she's playing just a game for the sake of being coy, but really, she's not. It's really best if he doesn't know.

"Trust me, you don't want to know who I am," she tells him, more softly now as she gazes at him once more. If this is the last time she's to look at this man, she'd at least ensure that it's a wonderful last.

"Then at least let me know what has you hiding here in my room?" he asks, softening because he must see nothing but the earnest truth in her eyes.

She shakes her head, bites down on her lips and sighs, "Freedom," she says. "I'm only looking for freedom."

Let me know what you think! :)