Old Kim is narrating lines of text that are in italics.
It is a calm sunny day at Southampton docks. The date is April 10th, 1912. Hundreds of people cover every square inch of the pier, looking like ants next to the majesty of the great steamer as they jostle with each other to board or wait patiently to see off their loved ones. Various horse drawn carriages and automobiles of varying types work their way through the crowds, bearing last minute arrivals of both passengers and provisions. One such car is a white gleaming Renault, its horn honking repeatedly as it parts the crowd before it like a wave. The car soon comes to stop at the edge of the pier and the uniformed driver quickly rushes to open the door for the passengers to exit. First out is a beautiful young seventeen old woman, dressed in an elegant white and purple travelling suit, her long luxurious red hair running down past her shoulders. Her piercing green eyes take in the scene before her, a regal and almost bored expression playing across her face. It is of course the young Kimberly Ann Possible. Exiting from the other side is Drew Lipsky, Kim's fiancé. A tall middle-aged man with pale skin, the lightest hint of blue coating it. Cold blue eyes also scan the scene before him, a gloved hand running through his jet-black hair. The man would almost be considered handsome if not for the unfortunate scar line running along and just below his left eye. Kim, although secretly rather impressed with the grand scale of the ship before her, was never one to allow her fiancé the slightest victory. She turned and glanced back at him.
"I really don't see what the commotion is about" she said loftily. "It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauretania."
Drew clamped his mouth shut and fought down the urge to berate the young woman for her blasé attitude. Over the years he had worked hard to control his temper and appear every bit the calm and sophisticated gentlemen he was meant to be. Sucking in a quick breath he affected a genial smile.
"Really now Kimberly Anne, there's no comparison between the two. Titanic is over a hundred feet longer than the Mauretania, and far more luxurious"
Muttering something about obstinate teenagers he quickly turned and opened the door of a second Renault that had just pulled up along with a staff car and luggage van and offered his hand to the woman exiting it.
"Really Ruth" he said as he helped her out. "Your daughter is far too difficult to impress"
Ruth Possible, the forty something matriarch of the Possible family laughed good-naturedly as her future son in law helped her from the car. She is in many ways an older carbon copy of her daughter, similar red hair and piercing green eyes, although her hair is shorter in length and starting to grey a little. Now widowed, her former easy going attitude had hardened and grown far more serious. She regards the Titanic with an appraising eye.
"So this is the ship that they say is unsinkable?"
Drew, being a keen scientist in his leisure time, laughed and rubbed his hands together.
"It most certainly is! A true marvel of science and engineering. God himself could not find a way to sink this ship!"
Before they can move towards the ship a harassed looking White Star porter rushes towards them, looking slightly overtaxed by all the last minute loading of cargo that is going on.
"Sir?" he asks in a breathless voice, addressing Drew. "You have to check your baggage through the main terminal. Its round that way sir…"
Drew grumbled and pulled out a crisp white five pound note, slapping it into the shocked porters hand. For the period, this would have been considered an extravagant tip.
"I'll leave that in your capable hands. See my…assistant about it"
Before the man could utter a reply a strong female hand gripped his arm and turned him away. The hand belonged to a tall pale woman, green eyed with long black hair pulled into a neat ponytail. Miss Sheila Go, dressed in a strangely masculine looking green and black outfit, pulled the startled man away from her employer and back towards the cars, dodging Kim and Ruth's personal maids as she went.
"Right then, listen up cause I'm not repeating this" she said in a no nonsense tone. "All the trunks in both cars, plus the twelve in the van and the safe, to rooms…" she glanced down at the sheet in her hand. "B52, 54 and 56!"
Gulping and paling slightly as the woman's hard tone the man nodded and scurried off. Meanwhile Drew glanced at his pocket watch, announced that they had better hurry and led the way towards the First Class gangway, Kim and Ruth following close behind, the hand luggage laden maids taking up the rear along with the smug looking Miss Go. They passed by a steerage passenger line, made up of simply dressed peasants and immigrants, bunched together like cattle and going through the process of a health inspection, being checked for things such as lice before being allowed aboard the ship. Immune from this type of scrutiny the Possible party make their way up the boarding bridge leading into D deck. Her face an unreadable mask, Kimberly Anne Possible approaches the hatchway, barely managing to suppress the dread she was feeling.
It was the Ship of Dreams, or at least it was to everyone else. In my eyes it was a slave ship, carrying me back to America in chains.
The ships horns let out a mighty bellow as Drew possessively took Kim by the arm and drew her through the hatch and into the ship.
Outwardly I was everything a young well brought up girl was expected to be. Inside however, I was screaming.
Even from several blocks away, as viewed from the dirty window of a grubby Dockers pub, the Titanic still towered over everything like a miniature skyscraper. The sound of the ships horns echoed in the wind. Inside, the pub is full of dockworkers and crewmen from ships of various nationalities. Near the bar, sitting at a grubby looking table, four young men in clean but obviously peasant clothes sit hunched over their cards. A serious and rather heated game of poker is taking place. Two of the men, Ron Stoppable and Felix Renton, fresh faced eighteen year olds, who's creased clothing looked like they had been slept in regularly, glanced at each other while the other two men argued quietly with each other in Swedish, one of them gesticulating wildly at the third class tickets for the Titanic which his partner had just staked in order to stay in the game. Ron and Felix were both Americans, having known each other for several years and travelled together, even after a drunken driver had ploughed into Felix with his car, confining the young man to a wheelchair. Felix had falling into a state of despondency and naturally assumed that, times being hard, Ron would simply up and abandon him. But Ron had shown his true colours, loyally sticking by his friend and helping with his emotional recovery. Ron had a talent for both cooking and art, and had used both professions to support himself over the years, having been self sufficient from an early age following the death of his parents.
"I can't believe you bet the last of our money on this!" Felix complained in a low tone.
"Hey" said Ron, stubbing out a cheap cigarette on the table. "When you got nothing to start with, you got nothing to lose. Worst that happens is we sleep outside tonight and I look for a job in the morning"
The game continued, both Ron and one of the Swedes taking a card. The point in the game to call had arrived.
"Alright" said Ron, his eyes revealing nothing about the cards in his hands. "It's the moment of truth" His eyes turned towards Felix. "What you got Felix?"
Felix sighed and slapped his cards down onto the table, revealing a very weak hand.
"No joy there" said Ron lightly. He turned to their opponents. "Sven?"
The man who had complained bitterly about their tickets being bet put down an equally dismal hand with a grumble. Without waiting to be asked, his partner grinned and slapped his own hand down. Ron's eyes fell in dismay at what he saw.
"Two pair?" he moaned. "Good hand" He put his own hand down and regarded Felix with what he hoped was an appropriate hurt doggy expression. "Sorry Felix"
The two Swedes whooped with joy and almost reached for the stack of coins in the middle of the table when they saw what Ron's hand actually was. Sven growled in frustration and grabbed Ron by the collar, pulling him close, yelling in broken English.
"You idiota! You have a full house!"
Ron blinked and looked down at the cards. "Does that mean I win?" He looked up and saw Sven's hand was forming into a fist. Closing one eye and cringing back he waited for the hammer blow to fall, but a moment later Sven whirled around and slammed his fist into his partners face, knocking the man down and out. The bar erupted into laughter and Ron and Felix quickly scooped their winnings into one of their hats, Felix holding the tickets in his hands like precious gems.
"I can't believe we won! We're going back to America!"
Ron whooped and jumped up and down, grabbing the tickets and dancing with joy.
"We're going home at last! Back to the land of the free! Home of the brave! We're going to America!! Woo!!"
"No mate" came the amused tone of the bartender, jolting Ron and Felix out of their revelry. "Titanic goes to America" He pointed his thumb at a clock beside him, showing 11.55am. "In 5 minutes!"
Ron and Felix looked at each other, their eyes becoming like saucers. Moments later the pair were barrelling along the pier towards the ship, Ron pushing Felix's wheelchair and manoeuvring between the jostling crowds like a man possessed. All of their meagre possessions were bundled together in a single kit bag that was clutched in Felix's white knuckled hands.
"Ron! Slow down!" Felix wailed.
"No can do buddy of mine!" shouted Ron, barely avoiding a collision with a parked van as the third class gangway came into view. "Our destiny awaits, and its about to leave without us!"
Screeching to a halt and running along the gangway, they stopped in front of the startled officer who was about to release the straps holding it against the ship. Ron quickly waved the tickets in the man's face.
"Wait! Let us on! We're passengers! He said breathlessly.
The junior officer took the tickets and stared dubiously at the foreign sounding names, and at the two obviously American men standing in front of him.
"Right" he said cautiously. "Have you both been through the inspection queue?"
Ron grinned widely and nodded rapidly.
"Of course we have. Both of us. Yup! No lice here!"
The officer narrowed his eyes slightly, but shrugged and simply waved them aboard. The moment Ron had pushed Felix through the doorway the officer slammed the door closed behind them, sealing it. The two young men cheered with triumph and took off down the busy third class corridor.
"I told you our luck was gonna change!" whooped Ron as they rounded a corner and disappeared.
A very short time later, as the ships mooring lines were being cast off, Ron pushed Felix's chair up onto the poop deck, running over to the crowded railing and finding an empty spot. Ron immediately clung to the rail and began waving enthusiastically at the crowd below, yelling goodbye. Felix eyed him incredulously.
"Ron what are you doing? We don't know anyone here"
Ron grinned and shrugged his shoulders, continuing to wave. "So? Everyone else is doing it!"
Felix chuckled as he regarded his friend. Ron was known for his "Never be normal" attitude to life, one that admittedly had served him well over the years. Shrugging his shoulders Felix leaned forward and waved both hands.
"Goodbye!" he yelled. "I'll always remember you! Don't forget to write!"
As the passengers and crowd below continue to wave at each other, the ship angled away from the dock and slowly began to turn. The twin propeller shafts came to life with a loud cranking sound and quickly build up into a blurring speed. Led by several small tugs the Titanic slowly began to make its way towards the English Channel.
Ron and Felix make their way through a narrow corridor, a multitude of confused and lost people moving through the maze like structure, several arguing with each other or puzzling over signs with translation manuals in hand. Finding the correct door Ron led them inside, finding a modest but spotlessly clean cubicle, four bunk beds and a washbasin making up the only furniture. Seeing two Swedish men taking up one half of the room and regarding him with confused expressions, Ron quickly moved over to the other set of bunk beds, helping Felix into the bottom one before turning to regard his new roommates.
"Ron Stoppable! Pleased to meet you!" he said, clasping one by the hand and then the other.
Jumping into the top bunk he leaned over and began bantering jovially with Felix as the two Swedish immigrants looked at each other in puzzlement.
"What happened to Sven?" asked one in Swedish.
Compared with the Third Class accommodations, stepping into the First Class suites was like stepping into another world. The Possible's suite comprised of two bedrooms, a bath and WC, a wardrobe room and a large spacious sitting room. It even came complete with its own private promenade deck where Drew was standing, admiring the view with a champagne flute and a bottle of the expensive beverage in hand. Carrying the bottle into the sitting room he began to pour out several glasses, watching Kim and her maid, who were busily setting out several paintings, Kim holding up an abstract portrait of several people, trying to find a good spot to place it.
"I can't believe you had me waste money on those ridiculous things" Drew groused. "I can't imagine why you enjoy looking at them"
Kim didn't bother turning round as she chose a spot that gave off the best light and placed the portrait down, graciously accepting the glass of champagne that her maid offered her.
"The difference between your taste in art and mine is that I have some" she said loftily. "I think there fascinating."
"What's the artists name miss?" the maid asked quietly, knowing from experience that she could ask without being scorned by Miss Possible.
"Picasso" said Kim.
Drew snorted loudly and sipped his champagne. "Picasso? Another worthless dreamer. People like that never amount to much of anything, trust me on that" He smirked. "At least they didn't cost me much."
Miss Go entered the room, followed by a porter wheeling a heavy safe into the room on a hand truck.
"Come on you" she said impatiently. "Into the wardrobe with it."
Drew watched the man disappear through an adjoining door and drained his glass as his assistant gave him a conspiratorial smirk and followed in the porters wake.
At sunset the Titanic sat off the harbour of Cherbourg, France, a smaller 150-foot passenger liner sitting alongside her and looking rather tiny by comparison.
At Cherbourg the ship took on additional passengers. Among them was an African American woman named Monique Brown, although to her close friends she preferred to be known by the pet name "Nique". History would come to know her as the Unsinkable Monique Brown.
In the bustling First Class reception room, a large, but well toned woman in her late forties easily manipulated her way through the crowd, hefting two large suitcases with apparent ease. Although she was dressed in the same elegant finery as the other First Class passengers, her relaxed manner and lack of imposed refinement marked her as someone who was not long used to this lifestyle. A porter hurried up behind her as she dumped the luggage, regarding the young man with a smirk.
"I couldn't hang around all day waiting for you boy" she said casually, nodding towards her bags. "Think you can manage with these the rest of the way, or do I need to do it for you?"
The porter nodded rapidly and quickly snatched up the luggage, leading her towards the elevators. As they were about enter one Kim and Ruth Possible exited, Monique and Ruth exchanging polite smiles before they passed by each other. Once her back was safely to the dark skinned woman Ruth frowned slightly and muttered something to her daughter, who neglected to reply.
Her husband had made his fortune by striking gold someplace out West, and she what my mother referred to as "new money".
By the afternoon of the following day the ship had made its final stop in Ireland and we were heading west, with nothing out ahead of us but ocean…The Titanic steamed its way across the calm sea, the ship glowing in the light of the late afternoon sun. Just outside the bridge, First Officer William Du stood with his hands on the railings and his eagle eyes scanned the decks below him for any signs of trouble. As the self styled number one officer in the fleet, he had high ambitions of commanding his own ship before long, and he was ever on the lookout for anything that might reflect badly on him in the eyes of the White Star Line board of directors. Another figure stepped up beside him, a well-seasoned woman wearing the crisp uniform of a ships captain. Captain Betty Director, one of the few female officers serving aboard a ship of this stature, and the only one to reach anywhere near the rank of captain, adjusted the eye patch covering her right eye and grinned as she stood beside him, looking every bit the picture of a ships captain, regardless of her gender.
"Take her to sea Mr Du" she said happily. "Lets stretch her legs!"
First Officer Du saluted sharply and strode into the enclosed bridge house, grabbing the telegraph lever and pulling it around to the "All Ahead Full" position with several clanking motions. Far below them in the engine room, Chief Engineer "Motor" Edwards turned around as the telegraph machine for the engine clanked and changed to "All Ahead Full" Running a hand through his dirty blonde mullet hairstyle he turned and bellowed out as he turned the telegraph to the correct setting.
"All ahead full, seriously!"
The engine room was a beehive of activity, numerous engineers running along walkways and platforms, monitoring or adjusting valves. Taking up a huge portion of the huge chamber were the twin reciprocating engines, each one a towering four stories tall with ten foot long connecting rods that surged up and down in a powerful steady rhythm. Watching a series of pressure gauges carefully, Chief Engineer Edwards cranked a large wheel around, the gauges showing a steady increase in pressure. Below them, in the humid and soot covered boiler rooms, gangs of filthy stokers work industriously, their well toned muscles rippling as they filled shovels with coal and fed the fires to meet the demand for more speed. In moments the rods were churning round and round at a faster and faster pace, which in turn forced more power into the propellers, the huge screws chopping through the water and churning up a huge column of foam that trailed for miles behind the ship. First Officer Du soon reappeared outside the bridge and returned to the captain's side, who was accepting a cut of tea from Fifth Officer Lowe.
"Twenty one knots sir!" he announced proudly.
At the very bow of the ship, Ron and Felix were gripping the railing and looking over the side at the prow that was now cutting through the surface of the water more rapidly than before, sending up two sparkling sheets of water.
"We're really doing it" Ron said in awe. "We're finally going back home."
"Yeah" teased Felix. "I think I can see the Statue of Liberty from here" He pretended to squint as he leaned forward in his chair. "Very small at this distance of course"
Ron, known for his overly trusting nature, actually peered forward, before realising he was being had and slapping Felix on the chest good naturedly. While he was peering forward however his eyes caught sight of something moving in the water. Before he could question it a dolphin leapt from the water, swimming rapidly and managing to keep pace with the ship. Ron grabbed Felix by the arm and helped support his weight as he leaned forward to watch as well, the first dolphin soon being joined by another, and then another. An entire pod of them. While Felix continued to watch them Ron stepped up to the very edge of the railings and pumped his hands in the air, overcome with a wave of pure joy.
"BOOYAH!!!!" he screamed, at the top of his lungs.
Felix couldn't help but laugh at his friends enthusiasm and soon joined in whooping and laughing with joy as Ron let out his signature expression several more times. Ron threw his hands out to his sides and let his head fall back, the wind whipping through his blonde curls and relaxing him as the ship sped onwards towards the Atlantic Ocean.
At lunchtime the next day, a small group had gathered in the Palm Court Restaurant, one of the nicer locations for the First Class passengers to dine. Sitting at the head of the table is Lord Montgomery Fiske, the Managing Director of the White Star Line. He speaks with an aristocratic English accent, his thin black hair and crisp suit the very picture of upper class perfection.
"Titanic is the fastest moving object ever built by the hand of man" He motioned towards the man sitting at his right side. "And our master shipbuilder, Mr Barkin, designed every square inch of her"
The indicated man, Steven Barkin, was a tall and slightly imposing figure, his powerful physique and neatly cropped hair belonging to an earlier time in his life when he had served as a Drill Instructor for the army. Although his profession had changed years ealier, he had never quite been able to throw off his old commanding demenour or the Seargent Major tone in his voice.
"Well" he said sharply. "I may have drew up the blueprints, but it was Lord Fiske here who came up with the idea, to give credit where it's due" Lord Fiske nodded politely as he ate. "It was his vision to create a ship so grand and luxurious in design that its supremacy would never be challanged" He slammed his fist onto the table, rattling his plate. "And by thunder here it is! Willed into solid reality!"
The remaining people around the table nodded their heads in appreciaton. Sitting with them was Ruth and Kimberly Anne Possible, Drew Lipsky and Monique Brown. As a waiter arrived to take the groups order for the main course, Kim raised a cigerette holder to her lips, igniting the thin cigerette held at the end. Her mother frowned and leaned in close to whisper in her ear.
"You know I don't like you smoking Kimberly Anne"
Kim narrowed her eyes in return but reluctantly removed the cigerette and snubbed it out savagely on the table, a motion that did not go unnoticed by Monique. At the same moment Drew was talking to the waiter.
"We'll both have the lamb. Rare and with a small amount of mint sauce" As an afterthought, he turned and smiled at Kim. "You like lamb, right Kimmy?"
Kim, who liked the pet name about as much as she liked lamb, which is to say not at all, felt her eye twitch as she fought to remain calm and looked back at him with a tighly fixed smile, her head bobbing in a quick nod. This action also caught Monique's eye and she regarded the young woman's fiance with a sarcastic smirk.
"You planning on cutting up her meat for her too there Drew?"
Drew's own eye twitched this time, as he once again found himself in the position of forcing down the bile in his throat, as well as the urge to tell this jumped up female to stay out of his business. The biting comment dancing on his tongue was forstalled as Monique turned and regarded Lord Fiske, trying to find a quick way to change the subject before things got heated.
"I hear tell that you came up with the name for the ship. Is that true Monty?"
Lord Fiske, ever pleased at the prospect of showing off his achievements, gave a small nod of his head and paused from his eating.
"Yes that's very true actually" he said with a pompous air. "I wanted a name that would convey the sheer size of the ship. And of course size means stability, luxury and most important of all…strength."
Kim fought hard with herself for a moment but couldn't help herself as her dangerous combination of humour, intelligence and wit came into play.
"Perhaps you would be interested to read the recent paper penned by Mr Freud? His theories on the male preoccupation with size might be of interest to you Lord Fiske"
Monique and Mr Barkin barely suppressed the urge to burst out laughing at this comment and Lord Fiske for his part smiled politely at the joke. Kim's mother on the other hand looked highly scandalised and leaned in threateningly while Drew merely looked bewildered, obviously not understanding the reference.
"What has gotten into you young lady?" her mother demanded in a harsh whisper.
Kim merely sighed quietly and rose to her feet, excusing herself and disappearing from the table. Monique grinned in amusement and again regarded Drew with a bemused expression, ignoring the apology that Kim's mother offered the group.
"My she certainly is a sharp one isn't she?" she joked. "Think you'll be able to handle her?"
Drew fought the urge to glare and pressed his mouth together into a thin-lipped smile.
"Well I'll certainly have to monitor what she's allowed to read from now on, wont I Mrs Brown?"
Sitting on a bench in the bright mid day sun, Ron sat working at a sketchbook bound in dark leather. Holding an artists pencil in hand, his hand worked on the page with a sure and practised grace. His eyes remain fixed on an immigrant family as he works, his skilled hand soon rendering the scene of a simple peasant couple, holding their young child between them and gazing out over the railings. The drawing is remarkably detailed and very true to life. It is obviously the work of a skilled artist. Felix, who is sitting in his wheelchair beside the bench, is engaged in conversation with Brick Flagg, a young Irish peasant who is discussing the details of the ships construction in Ireland, a feat that his father was involved in along with several other members of his family. Noticing what Ron was doing the burly Irish man leaned over and nodded approval at the picture.
"Do you make much money with your drawings Stoppable?" he asked, his accent thick.
Ron glanced up and was about to answer when his eyes caught sight of something that almost completely took his breath away. Standing at the railing of the B deck Kim Possible stood and stared out over the ocean. Although distant and slightly troubled, her face is that of an angel, her flowing red hair caught in the mild breeze and flowing behind her, the bright sun shining down upon her. Sensing someone watching her, her eyes gaze down at the lower promenade deck, glancing at Ron and pausing to stare back at him. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Ron locked eyes with the young woman, his cheeks beginning to burn lightly. Seeing this Felix grinned and elbowed Brick, nodding his head towards his friend. Brick snickered and looked between Ron and the woman he was staring at.
"Ah forget it Stoppable" he said lightly. "You'd have more chance of walking on water than getting anywhere near someone as classy as that."
A middle-aged man with pale skin and an ugly scar below one eye joined the woman on deck. The man regarded her silently for a moment and then said something that caught her attention. The woman's eyes instantly hardened as she whipped around, replying heatedly and waving her hands in the air. A moment later she was gone, leaving the man to stew in his own juices for several moments before he stalked off after her.
"Told ya so didn't I?" said Brick. "She's even married. You got no chance now"
Ron blinked in confusion. "How do you know their married?"
Brick smirked and jerked his thumb towards the upper deck.
"That lot are all airs and graces in public. They never act up in public, except on occasion with people they know well. That bloke was too young to be her dad, and too old to be a friend or brother. Definitely her husband."
Ron frowned slightly but remained silent. He wasn't able to put on his finger on exactly why he thought so, but the idea of those two being married seemed completely implausible to him. He sighed and turned back to his sketchbook. Not that he was ever likely to find out the truth about the matter anyway.
That evening in the First Class dining room, Kim sits at a table with her mother and a number of her influential friends. Although a lively and animated conversation was going on, Kim heard not a word of it, her eyes lowered and staring vacantly into space. Her white-gloved hands twist together painfully under the table, almost drawing blood.
I saw my whole life played out before my eyes as though I had already lived it. An endless parade of parties and cotillions, yachts and polo matches. Always the same aristocratic people, the same narrow-minded viewpoints and inane chatter. I felt like I was standing at the edge of a great chasm, with nobody to pull me back. Nobody who cared, or even took notice of my distress.
Kim ran along the B deck promenade at a breakneck speed, heedless of the disgruntled cries of people she knocked aside. Her hair was a dishevelled mess and she tried and failed to stop the tears from flowing freely, two long tear tracks staining her cheeks. Meanwhile, further aft, laying on one of benches was Ron Stoppable, a cigarette held lightly to his lips as his eyes took in the beautifully clear night's sky, cloudless and revealing all the stars in the heavens. His silent reflections were broken by the sounds of heavy footfalls and several feminine sobs. Before Ron could rise up from the bench a young woman streaked past him, heading towards the very aft of the ship. Ron immediately sat up, feeling an immediate sense of dread and concern, and also a fleeting sense of recognition. Kim, having not seen Ron in the dark, ran onwards, soon arriving at the aft bow rail and clinging it to with trembling hands. Her vision was blurry and she quickly wiped the tears from her eyes, taking in the sight of the vast expanse of blackness below her. Her mind is a whirl of emotions. A growing sense of hatred grows with her. Hatred for those around her, for the despicable man she was expected to marry, for the glamorous and limited lifestyle she found herself trapped in. And most importantly, hatred for herself for finding no way to escape from this hell. Her eyes stare downwards as her breathing calms, the sobs stopping. The realisation comes to her like a thunderbolt, not a trace of fear crossing her face as she slowly began to climb up onto the railing, moving awkwardly in her high-heeled shoes and long dress. Feeling herself begin to pant slightly, her leg reached over the rail and she pulled herself completely over, lowering her feet onto the railing on the opposite side. Far below her the twin propellers churn loudly, kicking up a constant wash of foam. Turning herself away from the ship, she begins to extend her arms, pushing her body out and away from the ship. Her eyes close and she draws in a deep calming breath, preparing herself.
"Don't do it!"
Her eyes flash open and whip around, her hair billowing in the wind as she struggled to focus on the young blonde haired man standing nearby, eyeing her nervously. A dull sense of recognition penetrates her mind as she recognised him from earlier. Her hands tightened on the rails as he takes a step towards her.
"Stop!" she shouts out, her voice shrill. "Don't come any closer!"
Ron edged slightly nearer, trying to remain calm and at the same time trying to think of something he could say or do to prevent this young woman from killing herself. While a more callous or indifferent person might have walked away or pretended not to see, he never would. He would blame himself for the rest of his life if he didn't prevent this from happening.
"Take my hand" he said calmly, reaching out. "I'll help put you back over"
"I said don't come any closer" Kim barked in response. "I'll let go!"
Ron blinked and thought about this for a moment. If he came closer she would jump? But wasn't that what she was already trying to do? Unless she really didn't wish to commit suicide at all. Perhaps this was merely a cry for help.
"No you wont" he said dismissively.
Kim glared and set her jaw firm. "What do you mean 'no I wont'" she demanded, annoyed now. "Don't presume to tell me what I will or wont do. You don't even know me!"
Ron shrugged his shoulders and continued to hold out his hand, edging slightly closer still.
"If you had intended to jump" he said, trying to rationalize this. "You would have done so the moment I arrived. You wouldn't have let me get a word in, let alone get close enough to try and stop you. Now please, just take my hand"
Kim felt herself becoming flustered, fresh tears blurring her vision. She turned away from him, blinking her eyes repeatedly to clear them.
"You're distracting me! Please go away!"
Ron carefully moved up to the railings, off to one side in order to avoid spooking the young woman into jumping. His hands rested lightly on the rails.
"Can't do that miss" he said with another small shrug. "If you jump in and I don't do anything, it'd be as good as killing you myself. Id have to jump in after you."
Kim's eyed widened in shock at the shear absurdity of this statement.
"Are you mad?" she almost barked. "You'd be killed right along with me"
Ron huffed in indignation and slipped off his jacket, reaching down to loosen the laces on his boots.
"I'll have you know that I'm a very strong swimmer"
Kim frowned and shook her head. This young man clearly wasn't seeing the logic of this situation.
"The fall from this height alone would kill you" she said, not really knowing why she was trying to talk this man out of doing the very thing she was intent on doing herself, but at the same time feeling that it was important that she did. "And besides, at the speed this ships going, we'd be left behind in seconds. Nobody would rescue us"
Ron sighed theatrically and gave an imploring gesture with his hands.
"Well all of that does sound pretty nasty" he admitted. "Although frankly id be more worried about surviving the fall and then freezing to death in the water" He glanced over the side. "This time of year, the water down there'd be barely above freezing. You don't wanna imagine how much that would hurt. Iv been ice fishing miss, I know what I'm talking about here. Even fell through some thin ice once. Water that cold hits you like a thousand fiery needles stabbing all over your body at the same time. So as you can imagine I'm not relishing the idea of jumping into there after you" He gave another sigh. "But like I said before, I don't have much choice in the matter"
Kim almost laughed. Almost. "You're weird" she accused.
Ron gave a lopsided smile. "People have often said so. But begging your pardon, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship right now, am I?"
He moved a step closer, his eyes locking with hers and his hand once again reaching out.
"I know you don't want to do this. I have no idea what's drove you to this terrible decision, but there are other solutions" He smiled. "Give me your hand."
Kim's entire world seemed to freeze as she found herself staring back at him, finding herself lost in the soft, most beautiful hazel eyes she had ever seen. She swallowed quietly, a light blush forming on her cheeks. Her voice was very soft as she answered
"Alright"
Slowly she removed one hand from the railing, reaching round to place it in his. His hand grasps over it firmly, almost making her gasp at how strong and yet soft it feels. Turning slowly the two find themselves face to face. Ron smiled in relief and Kim let out several shaky breaths, the adrenaline rush caused by her earlier actions finally wearing off.
"My name's Ron Stoppable" he said.
She tried to smile back, her breath still shaky. "Kimberly Anne Possible"
Grasping her hand tightly, muscles tense in the event she should have a second change of heart, Ron began to ease her back over the railings. But as she placed her foot on the next railing up, her polished shoes slipped on the railing, disappearing off the edge. Overcome by gravity Kim plummeted off the side of the ship, only Ron's grip on her hand preventing her from falling to her certain death. Gripping his hands tightly in hers, she let out a piercing shriek of terror, the noise alerting several nearby crewmen who took off running towards the sound of distress. Ron gripped Kim for dear life, his feet bracing on the railing and lifting her bodily towards him with all his strength. He almost lost his grip once, dropping her several inches before recovering, another piercing scream issuing from Kim and spurning on the approaching sailors to even greater speed. Panting with the exertion Ron finally managed to pull Kim over the rails and the two of them sprawled onto the deck in exhaustion, Ron laying partly on top of her. At this, the worst possible of moments, the crewmen dashed onto the scene. They took one look at the sight, a traumatised and panting young woman in dishevelled clothing, with a similarly dishevelled young man forcing himself into a sitting position beside her, his jacket and boots lying discarded on the deck beside him, and drew the most obvious conclusion.
"GET OFF HER!" one of them exclaimed, as Ron quickly did just that. The man turned angrily and spoke to one of his companions. "Fetch the Master at Arms at once!"
A matter of minutes later, Ron was being roughly handcuffed by the Master at Arms, a furious Drew staring at him with Miss Go standing behind his shoulder, barely concealing her own amusement at the situation. Kim was sitting on the same bench Ron had been laying on earlier, a blanket wrapped protectively round her and a brandy glass being offered to her Colonel Demenz, an aged former scientist who happened to be an associate of Drew. Kim shook her head at the offer and stared at the confrontation that was going on between Ron and Drew.
"What did you think you were doing placing your hands on MY fiancé" he demanded angrily, his hands grabbing Ron's collar when he noticed the young mans eyes were staring intently at Kim. He shook the young man roughly "Look at ME for filthy peasant! How dare you.."
"Drew!" Kim said loudly, placing her hand on his arm. "Stop it at once. The whole thing was an accident"
This drew confused stares from everyone present, Ron included. Drew however paid him no mind, eyeing his fiancé curiously.
"An accident?" he asked, perplexed. "Care to explain how something like THIS happens as an 'accident'?"
Kim was silent for a moment, her mind working furiously.
"Well I was leaning over the railing to see the…" she cast about for a moment as an idea occurred to her. "The…ah… what do you call it? The propeller shaft? And I slipped and fell!" She tried to play the damsel in distress card, hoping it would appease the poor young man's accusers. "And I would have surely fallen overboard, but this kind young man saved me, and almost fell overboard himself in the process"
Drew looked at her as though she had grown a second head. "You wanted to see the propellers?" He turned and regarded the others with a stunned expression. "Can you believe that? Only a woman could be that reckless!"
"Its as I've often said" said Colonel Demenz loftily. "Women and machinery are a terrible combination."
The Master at Arms looked at Ron sceptically. "Is that what happened?"
Ron turned and looked at Kim with a questioning eye, pausing to take note of the desperate, almost pleading look with which she gazed back. With an inaudible sigh he turned back at nodded.
"Yep. That's pretty much what happened."
"Well then!" beamed the Colonel. "The boys a hero! Well-done son! Nicely done indeed!" He turned to Drew. "Well that's settled with. Shall we go back inside?"
Ron remained silent as the handcuffs were removed, watching Drew as he placed a hand on Kim's back, guiding her away from the scene.
"Come along" he said in an effort to be comforting. "You'll catch your death of cold out here"
As he guided her away, they passed the Colonel, who nodded his head towards Ron.
"Perhaps a little something for the lads efforts, don't you think?" he asked quietly.
Drew ground to a halt and glared at his old science rival for half a second, quickly turning back to appraise Ron, who was slipping on his jacket again.
"Well I suppose" he said. "Miss Go? I think a twenty ought to cover it"
The pale woman smirked and shrugged a shoulder in indifference, but turned to attend to it. Kim however, was extremely displeased by this meagre show of gratitude. She knew it was typical for someone like Drew to solve problems by throwing money at it, but she herself wasn't impressed.
"A twenty?" she asked, barely keeping the disgust out of her voice. "Is that the standard rate for saving the woman you love?"
Drew frowned and stared back at her. He turned to regard Ron, who was standing where they had left him, hands in his pockets, looking every bit a lower class peasant, barely worth looking at, let alone thanking, at least in Drew's eyes. A devious idea suddenly popped into his mind, one that would not only embarrass the young man, but Kimberly Anne as well. Plastering a fake smile across his face he walked back over to Ron, stopping a few paces away from him.
"Perhaps you would be good enough to join our group for dinner tomorrow evening?" he asked politely. "To…regale our group with the tale of your heroic rescue"
Ron fought the urge to frown. He had known his share of jerks in his lifetime and he knew well when someone was talking down their nose to him. He almost refused outright, not wishing to be in this mans company if he could at all avoid it, but his eyes caught sight of Kim again, looking back at him with the smallest hint of a smile. Inside, his heart melted and he turned back and stared Drew in the eye.
"Sure. Sounds like fun"
Drew smirked, glad he had got the young buffoon to agree, and patted him on the shoulder.
"Good. Well….until tomorrow then" He turned and walked back towards the others, his voice a soft whisper as he leaned in and spoke into the Colonels ear. "This ought to be good for a laugh"
Ron watched as the group disappeared up the stairway and into the ship. He was about to leave himself when he noticed that the pale woman was still there, regarding him a predatory smirk as she snapped a silver cigarette case open and closed in her hand repeatedly. There was something about the way she was looking at him that made him feel distinctly uneasy.
"Can I uh…" he asked cautiously. "have a smoke?"
The woman's expression didn't change as she flipped the case open again and held it out. Ron quickly took two of the fancy thin cigarettes, placing one in his mouth and the other behind his ear for later use. He reached into his pocket for a match, but was startled when a bright green flame suddenly lit if from him. He jerked backwards and stared at the woman, who had just shook her hand, apparently to put out the flame. He noticed a complete lack of matches or cigarette lighter in her hand, and wondered how she had managed to produce the flame. Perhaps she had palmed the lighter in the moment it took him to look up?
"You might want to consider tying those" she said with a cruel smirk.
Ron blinked and glanced down, noticing that his bootlaces were still untied. He glanced back up, noting that the woman's smirk had grown even deeper, if such a thing was possible. She seemed almost delighted about something.
"Its interesting isn't it?" she asked with amusement. "That the little Princess slipped so suddenly, and you still had time to remove your jacket and boots" She let out a single laugh that was barely more than a derisive snort, and turned away. "See ya later stud"
Ron was left there feeling stunned and highly confused as the woman stalked away quickly and soon disappeared from sight.
Kim sat at her vanity table, in the process of undressing for bed when she felt another presence in the room. Looking up, she saw Drew's reflection in the mirror, standing by the doorway and regarding her passively.
"I know you've been melancholy of late" he said, his voice surprisingly tender and soft, a very rare occurrence for a man such as him. "I can't pretend that I know why."
He walked into the room and stood beside her at the vanity, a black jewellery box emerging from behind his back. Kim eyed in warily.
"I had intended to give you this at the engagement gala next week" he said in explanation, cracking open the box. "But after tonight's little mishap, I thought it might improve your mood."
He opened the box fully, revealing its contents. Inside was a necklace, a long diamond necklace, a huge blue gemstone hanging from its centre, flawlessly cut into the shape of a heart, it glittered in the dim light of the room. Even for Kim, the sight of it was dazzling to say the least.
"My god" she said breathlessly.
Drew laughed lightly and scooped the necklace from the box and opened the clasp, placing it around her neck for her to admire it in the mirror.
"It was once the property of Louie the Sixteenth. Its known as the Le Cour de la Mer, the…"
"Heart of the Ocean" finished Kim, her eyes fixed on the shining blue stone. "Is that really a…?"
"Diamond?" smirked Drew. "Indeed it is. It's a crown jewel befitting royalty. And that's what we are Kimberly Anne" He locked eyes with her reflection. "Don't you like it?"
Kim blinked stupidly for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. The gem was indeed overpowering, flawlessly beautiful and elegant. The price of such a jewel was probably more than she could guess at. But it was also rather heavy, and seemed almost restrictive in a way. And she feared what consenting to a gift such as this would mean. But a lifetime of upper class upbringing and manners washed over her. To refuse to at least show some sign of thanks would be the height of rudeness, wouldn't it?
"It's….overwhelming" she said honestly.
Drew's fingers gently caressed over the back of her neck, his eyes continuing to gaze into her reflected ones. For the first time in their entire courtship he seemed almost completely unguarded, speaking with genuine emotion.
"You know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you. Nothing that I couldn't provide for you" His fingers continued to stroke gently at her neck and the curve of her throat, causing Kim to shiver with something that was very nearly pleasure. "There is nothing I would deny you, if you would not deny me" He gently grasped her shoulder and turned her towards him. "Now open your heart to me"
Kim stared back at him, unable to formulate a single word of reply. In all the time she had known Drew Lipsky, she had barely tolerated his presence, his self-righteous, smug, imposing attitude always grating on her nerves. This softer side was one she had never seen in him before, one she never even dreamed that he possessed. And as she turned back to the mirror to regard the necklace again, she briefly wondered if it was one she could cause to grow more prominent if she spent enough time working at it. She didn't love him, that much was certain. But could she learn?
