Please Read: Okay, I know this is a very short chapter. As you may have read in my profile, I'm also working on another story at the moment (it's getting extremely close to the climax! :D). When I am done with that I will have more quality time to focus on this story. I will also be posting more regularly. So why the haste to post? As far as I can tell, this will be the first Treasure Planet and Quest for Camelot Fanfiction crossover, and so I wanted to get it up right away before another "Jimley" fan beat me. I'm very excited mine is the first (at least I hope). In addition, this story, though rated T for ages 13+, will begin to boarder on the 16+ age rating by Chapter Thirteen. Young readers, especially impressionable ones, are warned. By the way, the title is meant to be Second-hand Smoke, but the Fanfiction uploader keeps removing the hyphen. *sighs* Please bear with me, and I hope you enjoy!

Chapter One: Breakfast at Catastrophe's

Jim Hawkins sulked at the breakfast table and glared at the eggs sitting before him. Another morning, another day of school. Nothing exciting. "Not that anything exciting ever happens around here," he grumbled under his breath.

"Jim dear, hurry and eat your eggs before they go cold. And remember you'll have to leave for school soon," his mother called from the kitchen.

Jim sighed and stared at the runny excuses for eggs. He picked up his eating utensils and tried to cut one of the sunnies, but it slid around with no intention of stopping. After a few failed attempts, he was able to stab the gooey center, only for it to squirt him in the face. "Stupid egg..."

"What did you say?" his mother asked sweetly as she exited the kitchen, making her way for the coat closet.

"Nothing, I was uh, singing the lyrics to a song I heard on the radio the other day," he said as he tried to keep his plate hidden from his mother's view. "And the eggs were delicious, as usual." Standing with his back to his mother, he picked up the plate and proceeded to carry it to the sink.

"Thanks, Jim. As I always say," she commented cheerfully as she gathered up her purse, "I only serve my son his favorite meals!"

"Yeah, only my favorite," he repeated as he scrapped the eggs into the garbage disposal. Wary to turn it on right away and alert his mother, he instead switched on the faucet and washed off his plate before depositing it in the dishwasher. "Mom," he said casually as he gestured toward the sink, "you put eggshells in here, right?"

"Yes, why—"

Jim flipped on the disposal and after a moment flipped it off. He forced himself not to smile for cleverly eluding his mother's eggs.

"Jim dear, I all ready did that."

Ooops. How had he not heard? He had probably been too preoccupied wrestling with the slippery egg. "Well, I did it again for good measure. You know how stubborn those pesky things can be."

His mother smiled approvingly. "That's my boy." But just as quickly as the smile came, her expression turned severe. Looking him in the eye, she instructed, "Now remember our agreement. You go straight to school, don't mock the teachers, and please try to listen to them—they're there to help you after all—"

Jim rolled his eyes. "Mom—"

"And I want you to come home immediately after school ends and work on your homework. You're on the verge of failing, and yet you're a smart boy." She shook her head sorrowfully. "And need I remind you there's no need for detention—"

"Mom—"

"Let me finish. We can't afford to have you suspended or expelled, which they have threatened to do to you. And please, please, please, whatever you do, don't land yourself in Juvenile Hall." Though her intentions were to sound firm and commanding, her words came out more or less as forlorn begging.

"Mom," Jim said sternly as he placed his hands reassuringly on the shoulders of his distraught mother, "I won't let you down."

After saying goodbye and watching his mother drive away, Jim grabbed his backpack and skateboard, locked the door behind him, and slowly made his way to school.