A/N: And now to hear from Lovina's POV. Man, she curses a lot. Oh, Romano.

"Kapitän, what are we going to do with our…passengers?" Vash Zwingli asked his captain mildly, watching as the Spaniard spread a navigational map out on the table of his room. The Vargas girls had been on the ship for nine days now. Fortunately, their ship had rooms to spare, but the fact was…they were women, and they didn't belong on a pirate ship. Not to mention, they were from a well-off, aristocratic family that would most definitely be sending people after them. Vash sighed. Why did he always get himself into these messes? He could be at home, polishing his fine Swiss revolver collection, watching his little sister grow into a fine young woman. But he would stand by Antonio, through thick and thin. After all, the Spaniard had saved him and his younger sister from poverty when a famine struck Switzerland, and he would never forget that.

"I don't know yet, amigo," Antonio said brightly, giving him his characteristic smile. Nothing seems to faze him, Vash thought. "They're not too much trouble, I don't think. Feliciana is a wonderful cook, too! Much better than Mathias." He shuddered a little. Danish food was supposed to be delicious, but then he supposed that Mathias had been hired for his navigational skills, and not for his cooking. Still, it's nice to have ladies on the ship, Antonio thought happily. Especially Lovi. Er, Lovina. Although she didn't seem to like him very much. He sighed a little. Yesterday, he had asked her to help Tino clean the kitchen, and she had responded with some choice curse words and a lot of violent hand gestures. He didn't get it. He had been nothing but kind to her. Surely she could help out a little around the ship…

"Well, sir, I would advise that we drop them off when we visit Marseilles," Vash commented, watching the Spaniard trace their flight over Europe on the map. "Having them on board isn't safe. Vargas saw what our ship looks like. I'd be surprised if he didn't already have a bounty on our heads and posters circulating Europe."

"Mmm," Antonio agreed absently, not really paying attention to his first mate.

The Swiss sighed, fiddling with the buttons on his forest green jacket while he struggled with what to say. "Sir, I really think-"

Suddenly, they were interrupted by the sound of a violent crash. Both men looked at each other and then bolted out the door, running towards the source of the commotion. It came from the small kitchenette by the breakfast room down the hall. When they arrived, they found a very irate Italian girl cursing at a completely shattered glass container, looking as upset as she was embarrassed. She wore the same outfit that she had when they first ransacked the Vargas ship, having refused male clothing, instead opting to wash it when needed.

"Lov-er, Miss Vargas?" Antonio asked, concerned. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Vash looked at him incredulously. Why did he even care—

"I just broke something, dammit," she grumbled, not looking at either of the men as she bent down to pick up the shards of glass that lay sprinkled on the floor like crushed diamonds. "I was just cleaning up the damn mess Feli made, that's all."

"You need to be more careful," Vash said with a sigh. Honestly, this was a pirate ship. He didn't have time for clumsy, spoiled, bratty children—

"Ah," she exclaimed as she pricked her finger, and cursed softly. She rubbed the injured thumb on her navy blue skirt—no way was she wearing those stupid breeches that these pirate bastards had offered her—and continued smoothing the glass into a pile.

"Here, let me help," Antonio offered, sinking to his knees on the dirty floor next to her. "Vash, will you go get some bandages for me, please?" He turned his attention to the kneeling girl and completely missed the look that his first mate and friend gave him before walking away. "Let me see that." He grabbed her right hand and studied it carefully, seeing if he could find any shards embedded in the skin, before she cried out in protest.

"What are you doing? That hurts, dammit!" She said, scowling.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, looking up from her thumb to her blushing face. "Are you hot?" He asked, pressing his free hand to her forehead. "Your face is on fire."

"Don't patronize me!" She yelled, jerking away from him. Her face was almost as red as the highlights in her auburn hair. It was really cute, actually. Wait, cute? No, he just meant—

She bit her lip as she pulled the tiny shard out of her thumb, wincing a little.

"Last time I try to do anything nice for pirates," she muttered, standing up and dusting herself off.

Antonio watched her with concern, wanting to be close to her again but not wanting to aggravate her further. "Ah—well, actually, it was quite helpful of you to clean up in here," he said, looking around the newly scrubbed kitchen. Really, besides the broken dish and dirty floor, it looked great. She had obviously spent quite a bit of time in here, a feat for someone who had probably never lifted a finger for herself in her life. "I'm glad you're starting to help around the ship."

She gave him a venomous look. "Don't get used to it," she snapped. "I'm a lady, dammit. I don't fucking clean. I just felt bad because Feli made a mess, I don't know—" She threw her hands up in the air dismissively. "I'm going back to see her now."

Antonio tried to figure out something to say to get her to stay, but nothing came out of his mouth—for once—and she walked out of the kitchen without another word to him.

There was something about her, Antonio thought, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He shook his head. Now wasn't the time to get distracted by cute Italian girls. With a sigh, he resigned himself to mapping out their trip to Marseilles with Vash.

Lovina Vargas couldn't sleep. It had to be around one or two, she thought, but the ship was mostly still. The room was completely dark—no moonlight shone through the porthole window. She could barely see by the starlight. She had squeezed into the bed next to her sorella, in the tiny bed that was bolted to the wall of the ship, the Santa Maria. She still couldn't believe that they had been on the ship for an entire week now. They should have been back in Rome, celebrating the New Year with their grandpa, but instead, they were here, flying God knew where with a bunch of thugs. Damn pirates, she thought, but really she was relieved that they hadn't harmed either of them yet. She wouldn't admit it, but she was scared out of her mind. Well, who wouldn't be? She had been kidnapped by a group of dangerous men, and what was worse, her sister had been too. She rolled over to stare at Feli, who looked even more vulnerable when she was asleep. She was only younger than Lovi by a few minutes, but even so, Lovina was fiercely protective of her twin. She was so trusting and confident in her sister's ability to get them out of this scrape that she had finally stopped crying herself to sleep. Lovina wasn't so certain, though. For one, it wasn't like they could just leave. They were thousands of feet up in the air, and she had no idea when they were landing, or where. No, she didn't have a plan yet, but she was prepared to do anything to protect the two of them.

Sighing, Lovina rolled out of bed, realizing that sleep was once again going to evade her. As quietly as possible, she padded over to the door—damn this darkness!—and opened it cautiously, straining to see through the slight opening. After a glance back at Feli, she closed the door with a gentle click, and realized it had locked. She swore quietly under her breath, but there was nothing to be done for it now. In the mean time…

The hallway was completely deserted. Most of the crew was asleep, except for the one or two men who made up the night watch, but they would be on a different level of the ship, she reasoned. They had only been on board for a few days, but she was quick to note their schedules. The other men slept soundly in the rooms lining the hallway of the crew's quarters. She could hear some of them snoring through the walls and scowled. That stupid Dane that had harassed her the first day was probably the source of the loudest snores, which came from her right. She shook her head and left the hallway, moving silently through the ship. Directly in front of her lay the stairwell, which led to the second level, where the navigation and dining rooms were. She walked up the stairs, shivering a bit as her bare feet touched the frigid metal stairs.

The second floor was more open than the second. It led directly to the breakfast room, with the galley tucked off to the side behind a separate wall. Her eyes raked over the now-familiar sights: the long, elegant table in the center of the room, with a Spanish coat of arms mounted on the wall behind the head of it, and an extinguished fireplace at the far end of the room, with a few armchairs bolted into the floor. During the day, it was one of her favorite rooms, because of the huge glass windows that allowed the sun to pour in and warm it. She passed through it, trailing her hand along the smooth wooden surface of the table before leaving again, not letting herself get distracted by the beautiful starry sights outside.

She passed through a few more rooms, not exactly sure what she was looking for, but determined to keep going. After passing through a map room that looked vaguely familiar, she stumbled upon the navigation room. She had made it all the way to the front of the ship, the prow, as the crew called it. The room was lined with book shelves that eventually trailed off to reveal floor-to-ceiling glass windows at the front of the room. In the middle of the room was the giant helm, used to control the rudder below. It reminded her of the ornately decorated helms of the ships she'd read about in Grandpa Rome's storybooks. She looked around hesitantly, but then decisively crossed over to it and gently touched the metal helm. It wasn't as fine as a grand Italian ship, of course, but it was still interesting to look at—the familiar-looking steering wheel reminded her of a spider web with all of its different intersecting lines. Silvery script was emblazoned on the contraption, no doubt to make it more appealing, but it was Spanish, which somewhat lessened the effect in her opinion.

"What are you doing?" Someone asked curiously from behind her.

She jumped, guilty, and then cursed when she saw it was only the mild mannered bo'sun. What was his name? Something stupid, like a fairy tale. Hansel? No, it was…Heracles, yeah. He wasn't too bad for a pirate, but she still didn't trust him, mostly because he had creepy cat-like eyes that seemed to stare into her soul. "I'm not doing anything wrong!" She said defensively, her face flushing all the same.

"I see," he said smoothly, those bright bottle green eyes watching her intently before he gave her a tiny smile. "Do you want me to show you how to steer?"

She stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if it was a trick or not. "Okay," she said finally. She tentatively put her hands on the helm.

"No, no," the Greek man said quietly. "Like this." He moved her hands to a better position, so she could move it more easily. "You just need to move it the slightest bit to make the rudder follow you. It's a big ship, but she moves pretty smoothly."

She felt the ship respond to her and felt a thrill rise up in her chest. This isn't half bad, she thought. I can do this navigating stuff!

"And of course, you have to take into account which direction the wind is facing, your altitude, how much weight we're carrying, what our location is…" He trailed off, looking thoughtful. "So what do you think?"

"Of what?" Lovina grumbled.

"Of the ship. Of the crew." He seemed genuinely interested in her answer, and it threw her off a bit.

"Hmph," she grunted. "You're all damn thieves, is what I think. And that captain of yours. What the hell is he going to do with us, anyway?"

Heracles smirked just a tiny bit, though she couldn't see it, since she faced the helm. "Oh, I have a vague idea," he said in that quiet way of his. She turned to glare at him until he added, "I think he's going to drop you off in Marseilles. That's our next destination."

"Well, good," she huffed, although strangely, she felt a tiny twinge of disappointment. What the hell? She thought.

"No, keep your hands where they were," Heracles corrected, looping his arms around her waist so he could guide her arms. "Otherwise we'll stray off course."

"R-right," Lovina said, feeling her face turn red again. Stupid cat lover.

"Hej! Am I interrupting something?" Someone drawled from behind them, causing her to yelp.

"Shut up," she said hotly, when she saw it was that stupid navigator. She hadn't even bothered to learn his name in the week or so that they'd been here.

The blond grinned at her, looking rakish in the dim light that streamed in through the windows. He turned to Heracles and winked. "Well, I was gonna relieve ya, Herc, but if you want to stay out here, I understand…"

"No, I want to sleep," Heracles said peacefully, moving away from Lovina. "Good night."

"I've never seen him move that quickly," Lovina commented, as the Greek left silently.

"Yeah, he really likes to sleep," the Dane said with a shrug, turning to look in the window to fix his oddly spiky hair. Lovina scoffed at the gesture, redirecting his attention to her. "Speaking of, why are you still up, eh?"

"Couldn't sleep," Lovina admitted. "But I'm pretty tired of dealing with the two of you, so I guess I'll turn in now."

"I bet," Mathias remarked with a smirk. She glared at him and his stupid pointy hair. Stupid Dane.

"Don't talk to me like that, Viking bastard," she spat out, and stormed off. Fucking pirates, she thought.

When she got back to her room, she forgot the door was locked. With an angry sigh, she sank down against the doorframe. She knew better than to hope that Feli would wake up. Her sister could sleep through a hurricane, not to mention that the happy-go-lucky girl could be positively terrifying when awoken from her slumber. Trying to make herself comfortable, she thought to herself that at least they would be out of here soon. Even if it was in Marseilles, she and her sorella would make their way back to Italy, and be safe again.

Hope you like GerIta in addition to Spamano and USUK, because that will be coming up in future chapters (far more than I originally planned...). Also, you'll get to learn some more about the other crew members. I love the Santa Maria crew-such an interesting mix of characters.

*bosun- boatswain-a petty officer on a merchant ship who controls the work of other seamen. Because Heracles is very hardworking and good at managing others. Heh.

The galley is the kitchen, and the prow is the front of a ship, and the stern is the back-just some terms for you.

German:

Kapitän - Captain

Spanish:

Amigo - friend

Danish:

Hej - Hello

Italian:

Sorella - sister