Jim was spacesick. He'd never, not even on the journey to... thatplace been spacesick. He swore, if he ever got it again, he would find a blackhole and jump; it was an absolutely, horrifyingly, crappy monstrosity of a feeling. But then again, maybe it was just nerves.

He was completely terrified, he admitted it. He knew it was a huge honour and an amazing opportunity and stuff like that, but man, it was really hard leaving home that morning. His mom had gone through his bag about a hundred times before she was going to let him go, and even then, she hugged him for a bit longer than he would've liked. Well, Jim didn't mind, but there were a lot of people at the Spceport, and some of the recruits were already on the ship to go to the Academy. He really wanted to tell her what he had before - he'd make her proud - but, well, it seemed kind of out of place. So he gave her a quick smile and boarded the ship without a glance back. It was a lot harder than he'd thought it would be.

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt his stomach convulse, and he vomited over the side, into the grey-blue void. Coughing and hacking he came back up, and looked around to see if anyone had seen him. This was completely humiliating.

Most of the Academy recruits were busy over on the other side of the deck, doing whatever the hell Academy boys do in their spare time. Jim scoured the place and didn't see anyone around, so he figured he was safe. At least until the next bout came. God, this was torture.

He flopped down onto a barrel pushed against the deck rail and rubbed his eyes. This was not exactly the way he'd picture beginning his future. In fact, this was nothing like the way he'd pictured beginning his future. He'd expected to make that journey to the Academy in no time. He was going to walk in, and probably some of the Academy boys were going to judge him, because he wasn't raised with the same stuff they were, but, man, when they saw his sailing, their jaws would hit the floor. There they were, thinking they were the best of the best, and then he walked in and BAM! They wouldn't know what hit them. He would rattle the stars.

But no, instead he was sitting by the side, regularily emptying his stomach into the galaxy. Just the kind of brave first impression he'd hoped to make.

His stomach clenched again, and Jim tried to fight it, but eventually it came up anyway, so he leaned over the side and waited. When it was over, he sat back down on his barrel again, and anticipated the next wave. So far, Jim hated his enrollment at the Interstellar Academy.

It wasn't normal for Donna to notice anyone around her - especially not a boy. It wasn't like that, she told herself. The boy was spacesick. It wasn't like she was noticing his looks - in fact, the exact opposite. She was watching him to make sure he didn't fall off the ship every time he hurled over the side. She rolled her eyes - some spacer he was going to be if he couldn't even keep his lunch down on a boat.

"Spacers!" The Captain called from the quarterdeck. "Assemble!"

Donna ran up to the captain, hoping to get his attention before the Academy boys came around. "Uncle Rorey, there's a lad spacesick long the portside. Could I take him down away from the others?"

Her uncle, who was also the captain, looked down at her. "Spacesick? Which one?" He had never really been one of discretion, so when she pointed meekly to the sick boy, he nodded vigorously and shouted, "Hey! You there, looking green-faced! Donna here'll fix ya right up, and then we expect you to be ready for action! This be not an Academy for weaklings!"

The boy's head snapped up and looked over at the crowd of people by the quarterdeck. The boys that had gathered laughed and jeered and pointed. Looking completely mortified, he stood up, grabbed his bag, and wandered over to join the mob. He dropped his shoulders and lifted his chin, trying his best to look unscathed, but failing miserably to Donna's keen eye. Uncle Rorey shook his head and turned to address the Academy boys.

Donna leaped out of the shadows beside him. "You won't do them no good if you're going to be sick on them," she said quietly, grabbing his arm. The boy followed her with almost no resistance down into the galley, where she sat him on the floor and handed him a bowl. "If you feel the need, use it."

The boy stared up at her defiantly. "I'm not weak," he said, pushing the bowl away. Donna simply smirked and hopped up onto the counter. She watched the boy; It wouldn't be long. He realized what she was waiting for and set his face with determination. They stared each other down - Donna with amusement, the boy defending his pride, neither wanting to be the first to break the unspoken challenge.

And Donna saw when it came. The boy's eyes flashed and his stomach convulsed. Her smirk morphed into a full-blown smile then, and she leaned back on her arms, just waiting for him to give up and reach for the bowl. The boy linked his hands behind his head and leaned against the cupboard, shrugging casually. Still, Donna could see his clenched jaw and straining neck muscles. When a faint sweat appeared on his brow, she decided it was time to raise the stakes.

"If you hurl, it's you who's mopping it up." She began to sway her crossed legs - this was too much fun.

It was a losing bet and the boy knew it. Nevertheless, he shrugged again, despite the obvious nausea it caused. He ground his teeth together so hard Donna was surprised his jaw didn't break, but he still maintained his pose. He was strong, she admitted, he was doing a good job of fighting it, but eventually, your body wins. Always. It was just a matter of time.

He coughed violently, and a moment later he was on all fours over the bowl, thoroughly spewing out whatever his stomach had left, considering he had already emptied it several times before. When he came back up, wiping his lips on his sleeve, Donna was waiting with a glass of water.

"Just rinse your mouth," she instructed, the smirk suddenly hiding somewhere she couldn't find it. "I'll get another one for you to drink."

He looked up at her, looking for traces of sarcasm or mockery, and upon finding none, grudgingly took the mug. "Thanks," he muttered. He slurped some water and then spat it into the bowl.

Donna took the empty glass and handed him another. "How come you're going to the Academy if you get spacesick?" she asked. She took the cup and tossed it into the small-but-growing pile of dishes beside the basin. When she turned back around, the boy had risen and was giving her a fierce glare. "Hey, I didn't mean no offence," she continued. She looked down at the bowl she would eventually have to pick up in disgust. "Just a question, that's all."

His answer was so quiet Donna almost didn't hear it. "I don't get spacesick."

She laughed and put her hands on her hips. "What d'ya call this, then?"

He looked away and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Nothing. A bug. I dunno." He turned to go back upstairs, but Donna stopped him dead.

"You're hiding something."

He turned around slowly, a bitter smile on his face. "So what if I am? Doesn't matter to you."

She growled somewhere in the back of her throat, a sound she never knew she could make. It was a little disturbing, and a little hilarious. "The Academy doesn't take liars, bigshot, so whatever you got up you're sleeve better come out right now."

His smile grew. "Look, don't try to be tough. It doesn't suit you."

Donna folded her arms across her chest. "This is why I don't like Academy boys. They act like they own the universe. And then, when someone comes along who questions it, they brush them off. It's guys like youwho make me angry." Donna sighed. This was the downside to life at sea - the annoying jerks you had to deal with.

The boy looked surprised. "Uh, sorry, I... I'm not like that, I don't..." He trailed off.

Donna huffed and reached for the bowl. "Ok, sure."

"Really." He bent down and picked up the bowl before she could reach it, then asked, "Where's this go?"

She stared at him. What was he trying to pull? "Up on deck and over the side." She somehow doubted he would be willing to walk up onto the deck with a bowl of his own puke and dump it into the universe, but hey, it was worth a shot.

He looked up as if to say, "Why me?" but still turned and marched up the stairs. Donna waited by the basin, waiting to see if he would do as promised. She found herself hoping he would, and mentally shook herself. First the whole noticing thing, and now this. She rolled her eyes.

Moments later, she heard footsteps on the stairs, and she looked over to see the boy jump down the entire flight, empty bowl in hand. "There you go, miss... Donna?"

She scowled at him. "Donna's fine. And, um, thanks. I guess." She took the bowl and threw it into the dish pile. She felt bad for whoever had to wash them later... but, oh wait, it would probably be her.

"No problem. And I'm Jim, if you were wondering, or-"

She smiled. "I wasn't."

He coughed. "Well, um, I'm gonna go see what I'm, uh, supposed to be doing. Bye."

She stopped him again. "You didn't tell me whatever you're hiding."

He sighed. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

She shrugged. "Oh, I'm not stopping you. I'm just trying to figure out whether you're a total ass or not."

He gave a small shrug. "Well, I'll tell you. Just, not now." He gave her a sly smile over his shoulder, and then jogged up the stairs, out to join the Academy boys.