SPOILERS SEASON 1 AND 2
A/N: okay so I'm going to make this work guys! I know that we don't know if Will survives season 2, but I've got a feeling he will (haha, get it? Will will live? Hehe, no? Okay, sorry). Regardless if he does (I seriously hope he does live) I've got scenarios for quite a few turns for when I get there!
Crystal Nightray: AAAHHHH! Thank you so much! I'll try not to disappoint you, especially since you're my first reviewer ever and are so positive and curious!
Alright, enjoy!
CHAPTER 1
She sighed heavily and threw the cloth down, giving up on trying to rub off the thick layer of black grease that now coated her hands. The eyes of her students bore into her back, causing her to flex her shoulders and glance over her shoulder.
"Today's classes are cancelled." She announced with an authoritative voice, letting them know she wouldn't have any of their complaining. Some of them rolled her eyes and sighed, unbuckling their lifejackets. The tall woman turned around and clapped her hands, making them halt in their movements, their eyes shooting to her curiously.
"I'll let you know when we can proceed. There are plenty of craftsmen around here, so don't whine." The youngsters nodded and scurried away to the barracks her employer had transformed into storage and dressing rooms. She glanced down at her hands, pausing at the contrast between the dark motor-oil and her pale skin. With another huff she walked off the dock, her hands swinging around her in circles as she tried to avoid touching her trousers with them too much. Once inside the little office -that they had built in a container- she headed for the bathroom and elbowed the hot water knob. After a few moments the streaming water started to steam and she rubbed her hands with scrub. She clenched her jaw as she hung them beneath the scalding water and rinsed them. She repeated the action a few times and brought her red fingers to her face, noticing that there was still some dirt beneath her nails. With a light bump of her sandals against the door she left the steaming, crammed room and fished her mobile out of her purse on the ground. She blindly dialed the number and pressed it to her ear, closing the blinds of the bureau when she saw the students rushing away by the window. While it rung she kicked off her sailor-sandals and unbuckled her worn jeans. As she pushed it down they picked up.
"John? John, this is Laura. We've got a problem with the engine of the rescue boat."
"Which means?" his voice sounded weary, he wasn't keen on losing money. Swiftly she pulled off her shirt before answering.
"Which means it needs fixing and that I've delayed this week's sailing classes." She explained and pulled her dark jeans and loose shirt out of her purse, stuffing the rest in. A grave sigh came from the other end followed by a grumble.
"Take it to Graham, he's here this month." He ordered and hung up, making her pause. Graham? The grump at the other side of the lake? She rolled her eyes lightly at his choice, the man had cheap service and did most of the repair works for the school, but she's never had to go to him herself. She shrugged her raincoat on and opened the blinds, seeing the first droplets hit the glass infront her. A pleased smirk reached her lips at her correct assumption and she zipped her purse up, pulling on her hood. Closing the door behind her she strolled calmly to John's boat, the sky getting darker by the second. Fluidly she unknotted the rope and put the key in the ignition. Slowly she inched John's boat closer to the rescue boat. Without any pause she stepped over the red sides and knotted the two boats together. Quickly she gave another glance to the sky, it was pouring now, and she hurriedly jumped back to the wooden boat, pulling the retractable plastic roof up and sliding her purse into the dry with her foot. Switching on the fares, the boat accelerated and she navigated it across the vast lake. The grey light reflected on the water was disturbed and restless because of the thick droplets splashing into it harshly.
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He stood on his porch, three dogs sprawled lazily at his feet, and inhaled deeply. The air was filled with the fresh scent of new rain and revived green. The drumming of the rain against the ground echoed in his ears soothingly. When he reopened his eyes they were directed at the water that splashed and rippled as it seemed to drown in the rain. His peaceful train of thought was interrupted by the low humming of an engine and he lifted his gaze with narrowed eyes. Two boats. Probably from the sailing school across the water. John seems very set on using my services. He smirked half-heartedly. Well, he's keen of my prices. The boat docked with an almost inaudible bump and he went back inside, retrieving his jacket and pulled the dark blue hood over his messy hair. When back outside he saw a lean figure had appeared on his small pier, making him frown. Too tall to be John. The figure crouched down to tie the ropes and he reached them right when they stood back up.
"You must be mister Graham." They stated with a raised voice, the rain drowning out most of the volume. He nodded and reached for their stretched out hand.
"How do you do? I'm Laura Amiddon." The firm handshake made him doubt her gender for a second and he dared to look at her face. The broad smile she gave him dazzled him momentarily and he nodded again, letting go of her hand.
"In a little bit more than half an hour the rain will have stopped, I'll look at your boat then. Would you like some coffee?" he offered loudly, she nodded back and started for his house before he even turned around.