FYI, Evan is pronounced "E-vahn".

I do not own anything Disney, but everything else is mine and will remain so. It will not be distributed in any way shape or form. Yeah. I'm lookin' at y'all.

THANK YOU ALL FOR THE REVIEWS! PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE I ENCOURAGE THEM AS ALWAYS, AND I THANK THOSE OF YOU WHO DO IT SO OFTEN WITHOUT FAIL, YOU REALLY ENCOURAGE ME! YOUR SUPPORT IS AMAZING!

"Madam!" Clement rushed in, skidding to a stop. Amelia was sitting at her desk in a lacy black bra that was nearly see through, pipe between her teeth as she sewed up her shirt. She looked up when he yelled and dropped her pipe before screaming and covering herself up. Clement faltered for a moment before bolting out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

"I-I'm so sorry, Madam!" He nearly squealed before covering his mouth and taking a deep breath, leaning his back against the door. A few moments passed before the door waved open. Clement, still trying to keep his mind of the rather lovely sight beforehand, fell flat on his back, knocking the wind out of him. He stared up into the irate face of a-thankfully- fully clothed Amelia.

"What the bloody hell was that about Mister Clarkson." She hissed. The tone eerily resembled the one Clement remembered his mother using when he was a child. He propped himself up on his shoulders, rubbing his head.

"I-I'm sorry, Madam. I-er-the Royal Escort has been saved by Mister Hawkins and, uh, whoever captains the RLS Comet."

"Oh, well good. Don't see how that causes you to burst in at a most inappropriate time."

Clement outwardly winced, standing, brushing himself off. "Aye, I'm, heh, well aware of that, Madam. And I do apologize thoroughly. It's just-"

"Just what? Just bloody what Mister Clarkson?!"

Well, somebody is pissy today, Clement thought, sighing. "Well, you see, Madam, the Procyon Ambassador is-"

"You know what, I don't give a bloody damn, Clarkson. Leave." She waved him away with her hand, taking a few gliding steps back to her desk, where she sat.

"But, Madam, I-"

"Leave Mister Clarkson! I shan't have to ask you again before you find yourself confined to the brig for the remainder of the week!"

Clement paused, staring at her, and sighed. He drew himself to his full height and placed his hands behind his back, clasping them together. "As you wish, Madam."

"Good. Close the bleeding door on the way out and tell the crew I'm not dealing with any codswallop today; I'm only to be disturbed if it is of the utmost importance."

Clement sighed heavily, putting a gloved hand on the bank-vault styled handle. "Yes, Madam." He closed the door, the thunderous click of the locking mechanism echoing through the empty hall of the Lyonesse. He clasped his hands behind his back once more and went above deck. As he went about his job, he wondered what-besides accidentally being caught in her undergarments- could have spawned the outburst from Amelia. He exhaled, knowing that, when he got the chance, his news would just worsen it.

"Come in, Mister Hawkins." Said Amelia at the knock on her door, her jacket draped over the back of her seat, pipe between her teeth. Jim entered and immediately began coughing.

"Good God, Amelia, I can't breath in this!" He wheezed, stepping out of the room. Amelia sighed, unlatching one of the back windows and extinguishing her pipe reluctantly, placing it back in its drawer with her tobacco and lighter. After a few minutes Jim came back in, breathing deeply.

"Thanks."

"I should have had it opened beforehand." Amelia said, sitting. "What brings you here, Mister Hawkins? I wasn't even aware we'd docked."

"Sure you haven't added any "herbs" to that tobacco there, Amelia?" Jim joked. He dodged the glove Amelia threw at him and then closed the door, knowing she never liked it open longer than it had to be. Jim picked up the glove and set it on a side table. "Just kinda came over to report on the Naval Escort rescue mission."

"Ah, yes. Clarkson informed me it was a success."

"Aye, it was."

"Casualties?"

"None of the Escort, Madam. I don't know about the Procs."

"No one gives a rats arse about them anyhow." She shrugged, sighing. "They're starting to care now. There's talk of becoming allies with them."

"I have heard no such talk, so you can simply dismiss it, Mister Hawkins!" She snapped, startling the young Lieutenant. She sighed afterwards and stood. "I'm sorry James."

"Bad day?"

"Tea?" She swerved around his question and headed to the small stove, filling a kettle with water and putting it on the flame. Jim only nodded and she added more water. "So, what do you think about the Ambassador?"

"I don't know. Haven't met him."

"Ah. I heard his name is...uh..." Jim paused, staring at the ceiling. Amelia stared at him with an amused face as he kept thinking, seeming to be a bit slow today. She took the kettle off the flame when it was boiling and poured the steaming water into two mugs.

"Earl grey, James?"

"Early day?"

"No, no earl grey."

"Oh."

"I'll just put the teabag in." And she did so. She waited a minute and then handed Jim his mug of tea, sitting across from him and sipping her own. Jim thanked her and sipped his, and his eyes lit up. "Oh yeah, now I remember! His name is Ambassador Evan."

Amelia choked on her tea. "EVAN PROCYON?!"

Jim jumped. "I guess?"

Amelia jumped to her feet, her tea flinging into the air and nearly landing on poor Jim, but instead breaking on the ground inches away from the terrified young man.

"EVAN PROCYON IS THE TOP PROCINIAN WAR GENERAL!"

Dixie entered the Doppler mansion and looked around, untying the scarf around her head and hanging it with her coat. The house looked alright, but definitly messier than it did when Amelia had been around. That woman was neat and tidy and would settle for no less with very few exceptions, very unlike her disorderly son.

"Delbert?" She called. She recieved no response. "Hmph." She shook her head and picked up her suitcase, walking to the room she and Jacob stayed in if and when they visited. She put her things where she saw fit and began to wander, trying to find her son. She went up the stairs, muttering Russian curses at her aging joints, and perked her ears. Snoring. She followed this rumble down the halls, twisting and turning, up another staircase and then down half a flight to the next, before finally landing in a small library off a spare bedroom, where she discovered Delbert passed out on a plump couch, all her grandchildren gathered around him in snoring little lumps. Matey sucked her thumb, Tillie curled herself around the arm of her father, and Sunny and Jib were flopped over each other at Delbert's feet.

"Aww, little любимцами." She smiled. She walked over and lifted Jib, Matey, and Sunny into her arms, adjusting them with ease that came from many years rearing her own lot, then slowly drew Tillie from Delbert's arm and into hers. The young kit yawned and flicked her tail, resting her head on Dixie's bosom. Dixie kissed Tillie's forehead and carried them off to the nursery, placing each in their crib before making tea and trecking back to the small library and putting it on the coffee table beside where Delbert slept. He snorted. His nose wiggled.

"3...2...1..." She looked away from the clock as Delbert opened his eyes, looking at the tea, and then slowly up at her.

"Mama?!" He jumped up, scratching his head of tousled hair in bewhilerment. "Where did you-"

"I'm staying to help you until Amelia is back, pet." She sat on the couch beside him, handing him the tea. He blinked and stared. "Why didn't you say anything?!"

"Because I knew you'd insist I stay home." She said, and tapped the tea cup. "Now drink up. You look half dead."

Delbert obeyed, still staring at his mother. "You're crazy, Mama."

"And don't think you didn't inherit any of it. I can tell you're trying, but it's wearing you out. You need help-and I know Sarah is too busy with that inn of hers and keeping herself in check to do so enough."

"Mama-"

"No buts. I already unpacked."

"Mama-!"

She gave him a look, and he quieted, finishing his tea. "Thank you Mama." He said softly, lowering his ears and looking at her, his big brown eyes making Dixie feel warm inside. She chuckled and kissed his cheek. "Good boy. Always the smart one." She stood and took the cup. "Now you get dressed. Until this house is as clean as I deem fit, you're not going back asleep. After it's clean, you're skipping work tomorrow to sleep in, and I'm watching the children."

"But I-" Delbert stopped himself, then smiled a bit, rising to his feet. "Alright, Mama."

Back at port, Onyx and Minerva snuck off the ship in civilian clothes, hopping into a rickshaw that was common travel for the planet. They rode deep into the town before getting off, where they deemed themselves safe. Soon as they were on a sidewalk, Minerva grabbed Onyx's collar and pulled him down for a passionate kiss.

"It's bloody difficult as hell having to stay away from you on the damned ship." She breathed, letting him go. Onyx pulled her close and kissed her until neither could breath properly.

"I know." He gasped. "But it makes things a bit more interesting, doesn't it?" He grinned. She returned it, gripping his hand. "Never took you for a risk taker."

"What did you take me for?"

"A cautious, play-it-by-the-book city boy."

"Oh, and what am I now?" He grinned wider, moving his hands down to her lower back. She purred, putting her arms around his shoulders-for the most part. He was so damned tall.

"A smartass, fast paced gentleman." She smirked. "What has it been, two weeks?"

"Week and three days."

"Well aren't we specific."

"A little."

"Feels like a year."

"I'm not complaining."

"Don't think we're moving to fast?"

"Do you?"

"No."

"Then I think this is brilliant." He kissed her again and took her hand, twirling her around and then walking with her. She smiled, rosy cheeked. "This is great."

"It is." He breathed deeply, looking up at the sky. "I just wish I'd met you earlier so we didn't have to...hide this."

"Aye, I do too...is there a way around it?"

Onyx sighed, thinking. He glanced at Minerva, eyes focusing on her face, then her hips, then back to her face again. This woman had made him feel freer than he ever had been. It'd been exactly a week and three days since they started dating, and he knew it was fast-too fast, honestly, but he couldn't stop himself. There was a line he would draw, but he hadn't come to it yet, and he didn't plan to for a long while. Though he now lived for the way his heart sped up when he saw her, when they snuck off at night to each other's rooms to talk and kiss, their little rendezvous when they stopped at the several ports currently scattered across their path on the lookout for Iron Clads, he knew he had to be careful, and he had too much respect for both himself and Minerva to carry things where they needn't go, especially during this point in the relationship, and in history. He wished there was a way where, though it was fun and daring, they didn't have to sneak around like a couple of crooks. Bloody work policies.

"I don't know right now...I mean, I could look if I had the Interstellar Academy's library at hand but...I don't."

She only nodded, and smiled, jumping a bit to kiss his cheek. "Well, we'll figure something out eventually."

"Just not today." He added, finding himself chuckling. He twirled her as they walked, making her giggle in a rather out-of-character fashion for the brash woman she was.

"Graceful." He said, smiling. She grinned up at him, nuzzling his arm. "Only with you guiding me."

"You're still graceful. Like a swan."

"Aw, Nyxie I-" She tripped over her own feet, and Onyx caught her, stabling her before they continued.

"A drunken swan." He joked. She smacked his chest and rolled her eyes, making him laugh. They then continued their walk in silence. They admired lamps hanging from strings over the street, and laughed at the various performers going around, doing their tricks and performing their skits. The smell of tantalizing foods drifted from open shop and resturant windows. Onyx picked a flower from the ground. It was deep purple, with yellow splotches on the leaves, and a grass green center. He tucked it in Minerva's hair. She blinked and reached up, patting it, and smiling. "Thank you Onyx."

"You're welcome darlin'" Onyx responded, putting on a mock Southern accent for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Ok, maybe to make her laugh-which worked. They walked out into a park, tranquil. Other couples and families walked about it, talking lightly and resting in the grass and around an elegant fountain, which was a twisting, elegant willow tree sculpture with water spouting from branches, running down the stone leaves and dropping into the coin filled base. Onyx took a pence from his pocket and tossed it in.

"What did you wish for?" She looked up at him. Onyx smiled, putting his arm around her shoulders. "I wished this lasts forever." He motioned between them subtly. She grinned. "You romantic, you wern't supposed to tell me! Now it won't come true." She teased. He laughed. "I don't think it applies to fountains, babe."

"Well, in that case," Minerva took a pence from her pocket and tossed it in. "I wish we can find a way to be together without having to hide it."

Onyx grinned. They kissed. They pulled back at the same time and gazed at each other.

Then the gunshot rang through the air.