Author's Note: This story takes place well before the events depicted in the film, on a much smaller sister ship, on which Gil Godwin is NOT the C.D. These things couldn't happen on his watch.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but admire much. I hope I do not offend.

Had Jonathan Devereaux been asked if he wanted to go on a Caribbean cruise, he would have said no. Fortunately, his daughter Amy did not ask him what he wanted: she told him they were taking the cruise and the date it departed. Jonathan smiled agreeably and began to pack. He had never before taken a cruise, he thought cruises were a waste of money, but he had been well trained by Amy's mother to obey direct orders without argument. After thoughtful consideration of several cruise brochures, consultation with the travel agent, and finally careful perusal of a couple of library books on cruising, Jonathan decided he did not possess the sort of clothing required, and to Amy's amazement actually went shopping for clothes and located a tailor to alter them to his diminutive height. The cruise was only four nights, but it had been a long time since Jonathan had had any need for good clothes.

Amy was pleased at the amount of attention he paid to these preparations; the whole family had lately been commenting that their father had been moving through his days like an automaton, pleasant and polite, but not taking much interest in anything. His apparent interest in the cruise was perceived to be a good sign.

By the time Amy, her father, and her husband Robert had arrived aboard ship, Amy wondered if she had been too hopeful. Dad was easy to travel with, certainly he never complained, but it was like traveling with a ghost. Amy intercepted sympathetic glances from the flight attendants, as if they thought her father were on his last legs, going bravely and sweetly to his doom. Amy remembered a time, and not all that long ago, when Dad had flirted with every woman he met. He almost did so now, but the smiles were so fleeting, so slight, before he fell back into abstraction, that she hardly knew what to do. He had often said in the past that Mom was his anchor, and without her he seemed adrift.

This dreamlike state continued until the threesome entered the ballroom. A few couples were dancing, swing music played, and Amy saw that her father wanted to dance. He said nothing, but was giving the dancers more attention than he had paid to anything in a year, and one black dress shoe was tapping out the song's beat. When the next song began, Amy said, "Let's dance, Dad." He turned to look at her and smiled, rose to offer her his hand for the dance, and she saw his eyes had come to life.

Jonathan was a skilled dancer and the pleasure he took in the activity was palpable. They danced twice more, then sat back down. Amy was not much of a dancer, their table mates from dinner were not in the ballroom, and as yet they knew no one else on the ship. Amy and Robert discussed the activities planned for the following day, while Jonathan watched the dancing attentively, then went to get his daughter and son-in-law drinks. Back at the table, he resumed watching the dancing, as intently as though it were a play upon a stage. She was pretty sure he wanted to dance again, but knew herself incapable of keeping up with him. She was already tired, and she did not think he expected her to dance again. Amy wondered what it was that captured his attention on the dance floor.

What had captured Jonathan's attention was the realization that the couples on the dance floor were constantly changing. A small number of men were circulating through the ballroom, dancing with a great variety of partners. A tall silver-haired man escorted his partner to the second table away from Jonathan, then moved to the table between that and Jonathan's where two unescorted ladies were seated. Jonathan's ears practically flapped to catch the man's words: "Hi, my name is Mac. May I have the pleasure of this dance?" The lady apparently agreed, as Mac then escorted her to the floor.

'As easy as that?" Jonathan thought, eyes wide. He realized he was staring at the same time he realized that the lady who had been left behind was looking back at him, returning in equal measure his own delighted smile. She nodded suggestively towards the dance floor.

"Dad-" Jonathan looked at his daughter. "Go and dance with her," Amy said.

Jonathan rose and went to the woman. "Hi. My name is Jonathan," he said. "May I have the very great pleasure of this dance?"

Jonathan was in heaven. Nearly every lady he approached wanted to dance. Those who didn't directed him to others who did. Some of the women danced well, some poorly, but all were friendly and pleased to be asked. Yet none clung to him, nor made any advances, each seeming to expect to return to her table and relinquish his company at the end of her dance, in order to allow another lady her turn. Jonathan could not restrain his smiles; he knew he must be grinning like an idiot. It was quite probably the greatest night of his life. Amy and Robert sat talking and watching Jonathan dance for over an hour. He did not return to sit down until the band took a break.

"Are you having a good time, Dad?"

"Wonderful. I had no idea taking a cruise would be so much fun."

"You look fine out there."

"I think I'm a little rusty," he demurred.

"Not so you'd notice," she replied.

The band was returning, and Amy saw her father scan the room for his next partner. It was well past ten, and she was exhausted. "We're going to bed, Dad, but you enjoy yourself dancing. When you collapse have someone carry you to our stateroom." Jonathan nodded his agreement, collected the next lady, and had returned to the dance floor before Amy and Robert had left the room.

The night was magical. Jonathan had always enjoyed dancing, but he had never in his life experienced anything like this night, dance after dance, after joyous, wonderful dance. He had not lied to his daughter, he was rusty; he stepped on a few toes, and was stepped on in return, but none of the women got angry. Those who didn't smile, actually laughed. Jonathan thought their universal good mood might be rubbing off on him because even the rather strange things that happened failed to concern or disturb him overmuch. For instance, a buxom blonde woman scowled at him from across the floor through several dances, then finally motioned him over.

He approached her obediently. "My name's Jonathan. Would you like to dance with me?"

The scowling lady was surprised into a smile. "Yes, I would. My name's Ellen." They joined the dance.

Ellen danced reasonably well, but soon she was scowling again, this time at his sport coat. She looked at it in a way that made him wonder if he'd spilled something on it. He looked at his chest and saw that it was clean, so he ventured to ask, "Is something wrong, Ellen?"

"Is this your first time, Jonathan?"

He wondered what she meant, then thought he knew. "My first cruise? Yes, it is. It's wonderful. I had no idea it would be like this."

"Enjoying yourself, are you?" Ellen practically sniffed. "Well, you should, of course, but don't forget you have certain duties and obligations as well." He gaped at her, and opened his mouth to say something, but Ellen stopped him. "I'm sure you'll catch on."

"Of course," he responded, looking confused.

"Anyone can help you."

"I'm sure," Jonathan agreed. The dance was over, so he returned Ellen to her seat. 'Help him with what?'

At the band's next break Jonathan went to the men's room. The silver haired man Mac was there and said to him, "Are you Jonathan?"

Jonathan admitted that he was.

"You're new."

Jonathan wondered what "new" meant between passengers on the first night of a cruise, but confirmed, "This is my first cruise, yes."

Mac nodded, sucked in his breath, then said, carefully, "The blue blazer and tan trousers are more... usual... for the ballroom." He looked at Jonathan significantly, but Jonathan got the impression Mac was trying not to give offence.

Jonathan's brow wrinkled. "More usual?"

"Yes, that is what we usually wear in the ballroom, except on formal nights." Mac was looking Jonathan straight in the eyes. He clearly expected some response to this rather unorthodox conversational gambit.

Jonathan said, "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Mac nodded encouragingly, but continued very firmly, "So tomorrow night we'll see you in a blue blazer and tan trousers, correct?"

'What in the blue blazers is going on?" Jonathan almost laughed. 'What kind of cruise is this?' Mac was waiting for his reply. Jonathan thought about the men he had seen in the ballroom. They had worn a variety of suits and sport coats, but now that Mac pointed it out, the men who had gone from partner to partner, as he himself had been doing for the past two hours and more, had, in fact, been wearing blue blazers. Some kind of dress code? Without intending to, Jonathan had started to shake his head. 'This whole thing is so weird.'

Mac mistook this movement for a negative gesture, a denial. The taller man sighed, and shook his own head. "Are you having a good time here, Jonathan?"

Jonathan nodded.

"That's good. We care about you, you're family, and we want you to have a good time." Mac's voice had grown very soft, and Jonathan had to strain to hear him over the babble of other men coming and going, washing their hands, and flushing toilets. "We understand that you're new here, but it's important for you to do as you're told, to follow the rules," Jonathan was starting to feel as though a band were tightening around his heart. He opened his mouth, but shut it again when Mac continued, "even if you don't understand them, if you want to get along here. Am I getting through to you, Jonathan?"

'No. Yes.' Certainly, the repetition of his name was getting to him. Before he had retired, Jonathan had experienced his share of bosses, and had been bawled out as many times as anyone, so it was clear to him that he was in fact being bawled out, but he had never before been bawled out so thoroughly by someone whose voice was not raised. Yet Mac seemed more sorry than angry.

It was insane. This man had no authority over him, yet he felt ashamed of himself anyway, was actually staring at the floor. And he had never heard of this strange dress code until this moment!

Mac was touching his arm. He looked up at the taller man. The stern look was gone, softened into a gentle smile by his show of submission. "Don't worry. It's all right. You're new, and everyone is entitled to one mistake. Go back and enjoy the dance. And tomorrow when you come into the ballroom, you'll be wearing your tan trousers and blue blazer. Right?"

"Right," Jonathan nodded.

"Good man. Now let's hurry up and get back; the ladies await."

Jonathan gave a chuff of laughing agreement. They hurried to get back to the dance.

It was nearly two a.m. when Jonathan returned to the stateroom, tired but elated.

"Dad?" Amy's voice said out of the darkness.

"Yes, it's me. Go back to sleep."

"Did you have a good time dancing?"

"Yes, very good."

"I'm glad. I love you, Dad."

"I love you, too, honey. Good night."

"Good night."