"Denny, you're the best," Chelsea stated as she pulled her full bag of freshly caught fish of his boat. "I really don't know what I'd do without you." Denny chuckled, stepping carefully out of the boat with his own bag thrown over his shoulder.

"I'm sure you'd do just fine Chels. You're pretty decent at fishing," he said as they began to trek up the beach towards his little wooden shack.

"Oh, I know that. But without you I'd have to fish from the docks, that's no fun. And I guess I would get bored without someone to talk to," she teased, bumping into him. He feigned a look of hurt.

"So you just use me for my boat? Oh, well. You did say you enjoy my company, so-"

"Your company? I was talking about the bird," She said reaching up to pet his feathered constant companion. "You're a pretty birdie, yes you are!" she cooed. She could have swore she saw the little bird blush.

"Ouch. You cut me, Chels. You cut me deep," Denny said, shifting all his fishing equipment over to one arm to put his free hand over his heart. "Here we are. Ugh, sometimes I wish my house was closer to the water, I'm out of breath," he said after he sat his stuff against the wall of the building. He bent down and put his hands on his knees, taking deep, dramatic breaths.

"It's cause you were talking so much," Chelsea said absentmindedly, surveying his house. She often worried about him living in the shack; it was in very poor condition. The walls were thin and the wood was beginnng to rot. The roof was weak and had already fallen through twice; luckily, Denny was out fishing at the time. And to complete the decrepit look, the entire building was leaning to the left. It looked as though the weakest bit of wind could blow it over without a problem. She shuddered at the thought of some kind of typhoon coming through the island,

"Den, why don't you get Gannon to upgrade your house?" she said, her eyebrows crinkling in worry. "He could give you something a little...sturdier?" Denny looked up at her, still in his 'I'm catching my breath' position. He seemed confused, althought she couldn't tell if he was pretending or not.

"Why? What's wrong with my house?" Chelsea blinked. Is he serious?

"Well, look at it! Its so unstable. If there was ever a storm or anything-"

"Do I sense worry?" He finally stood up straight and put his hands on his hips, looking frustratingly satisfied. She rolled her eyes.

"Of course I worry about you, idiot." She glanced over her shoulder, mainly to avoid looking at him and his stupid grin. The sun was just barely peeking over the sea, casting a pinkish tint over the beach. She ignored Denny, who was prattling off about how perfectly safe his house was, to admire the way the waves rolled up the shore and then retracted back into the sparkling sea. She'd never really took the time to just stop and look.

"Helloooo? Cheeellseeea?" She sighed at his interruption. Taking one last look at the sea, she decided that she would get up earlier one day to get her work done sooner. Then she would bring Eliza and Charlie, the merchants son, down to the beach for a picnic. She smiled delightedly just thinking about it; Eliza would be thrilled.

"Chels! You know I hate being ignored." Without turning around, she pictured Denny in her head, stomping his feet and pouting like a big three year old. She giggled; he really could be a child sometimes. Finally, she spun around to face him.

"I'm sorry, Denny. I was just thinking," she said, giving him her sweetest smile. She saw his agitation practically slide off his face. Glancing up at the darkening sky again, she stepped forward and gave him a quick hug. "I gotta go, Eliza and Gannon are probably trying to eat the kitchen table right now." When she tried to pull away from him, he pulled her back into a tighter hug and lifted her off the ground. "Denny!" she squealed, surprised. He sat her back down, grinning ear to ear.

"Sorry, couldn't help it. Go on now, go feed the Big and the Blonde," he said, turning her around and gently pushing her towards the path to town. Chelsea shook her head, smiling, and began to walk. When she was almost off of the beach area, she stopped and called back to Denny, "I'm gonna talk to G about fixing your house alright? Okay, thanks!"

"Chelsea! My house is fine!" But she had already ran off.

Chelsea was humming to herself as she stolled up the path to Gannon's house, wondering what she was going to cook for them. She was craving spaghetti, her personal favorite, but spaghetti just wasn't the same without mushrooms, which didn't grow in town until fall.

Lost in her thoughts of food, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a twig break behind her. She leaped what was probably three feet into the air and emitted the highest pitched noise she'd ever made in her life. When she was safely back on the ground, she spun around to see what had been sneaking up on her. She was thoroughly surprised by what she saw.

A young man, just a little bit taller than herself, was standing a few feet behind her, looking sheepish and amused at the same time. An odd purple top hat sat atop bright blonde locks. He had a very young looking face, but the way he was standing with such an air of confidence made it obvious to her that he wasn't a child. Purple seemed to be his favorite color, as his overcoat and pants matched his hat, and looking closer, Chelsea noticed that even his eyes were a striking shade of purple. His attire seemed familar to her, but she couldn't remember where she had seen it before. He took a few steps closer to her, so that they where in comfortable conversation distance.

"Hello. I didn't mean to startle you," he said apologetically. Chelsea nodded, offering a friendly smile.

"Its fine. I usually don't scare that easily," she chuckled. She glanced over his strange attire again, wondering why it seemed so familiar to her. "Uh, have we met before?" He was quiet for a minute, studying her.

"Hmmm. No, I don't believe we have. I've just moved here, actually." It was then that she realized where she'd seen his clothing.

"Urrrgh, this is absolutely ghastly!"

No freaking way. He couldn't be.

"I am Pierre," he said, not noticing the look of disbelief on Chelsea's face and giving a slight bow. "I am a member of the prestigious Gourmet family, and-"

"You aren't repulsive!" she said before she could stop herself, sounding almost indignant. His disposition changed as soon as the words flew out of her mouth, as though someone had flipped a switch. The air of confidence he had that had made him seem so mature to her was gone, replaced with an timid unsureness that made him actually appear smaller. Even his hat seemed to droop a little.

"Err? Did you think that I would be?" he said, pressing his fingertips together nervously. Chelsea mentally smacked herself. She couldn't believe that she had said something so rude to someone she had just met. Still, she couldn't believe that this adorable young man could possibly be related to that rude, disgusting man from the Mineral Town festival.

"Ye-No! No, I didn't! I'm very sorry, sir, I didn't mean to say that," she said, speaking at a hundred miles an hour. It felt odd to her to call him sir when he looked so childish, standing there with his hands now clasped behind his back and a huge pout on his face, digging his boot into the ground. But she had already been incredibley rude to the poor stranger, she didn't want to make it worse.

They stood there in an awkward silence for what seemed like hours to Chelsea. Pierre was still staring at the ground, mauling it with his boot. Chelsea tried to think of something, anything, to say to him, just to make him stop pouting. He'd had such a lovely smile. She opened her mouth, hoping that the words would find their own way out. Suddenly, she heard something in the distance.

"CHELSEA!" Both she and Pierre looked up at the noise. She recognized the voice as Eliza's. "CHELSEA! I'M HUNGRY!" Chelsea couldn't help but giggle. The sound of Eliza's voice, along with her laughter, seemed to ease the awkwardness between them. Pierre had pulled his boot out of the dirt and, while his confidence wasn't completely showing like it had been when she first saw him, there was a small grin on his face.

"I guess I'm needed back home," she said, backing away from him towards Gannon's house. "It was really nice to meet you, Pierre. And I really am sorry..." He shook his head, and the way his blonde locks bounced reminded her a little of Eliza. She smiled softly at him.

"It's fine. Actually, it was kind of a compliment, wasn't it? A rather unconventional compliment, I suppose, but one nonetheless," he said, returning her smile. She chuckled at him, relieved that he wasn't angry with her.

"Unconventional is kind of my thing, actually," she said quietly. "Would you believe that I'm a rancher?" Those purple eyes widened.

"Oh? A rancher? You certainly don't loo-"

"CHELSEA!" They cringed at the shriek.

"Oh the poor thing. She acts like she's starving," Chelsea said, rolling her eyes. Pierre seemed to have brightened up tremendously.

"So you cook?" he asked excitedly.

"Oh, yes. If it weren't for me, the carpenter and his daughter would probably starve." Pierre chuckled. She raised her eyebrows in surprise; he had a very pleasant laugh.

"UGH CHELSEA! DAD'S GETTING WORRIED!" That wiped the grin off Chelsea's face. She didn't want Gannon to worry about her.

"I've got to go," she said, backing up once more. "I'm sure I'll see you around." And with a final smile, she took off toward's the carpenter's house.

The little Gourmet watched her as she ran off. He shook his head, still smiling. What an odd girl.