Allow Me to Manage My Own Safety

by staarss

Frank, Lily and MacGregor (along with Proxima) have not made it out of the jungle yet... There are things to be said and one more adventure to have before they find their way back to England. Taking place at the end of the Jungle Cruise, this story will fill in some scenes and follow our explorers as they discover that their story really is all about...love.

17. Ch 18, Head Above Water, Part 2

Summary: Lily receives and unexpected telegram just as the ship is ready to set sail, which cause a rift between her and Frank. MacGregor attempts to beat Frank in a game of chess.

Notes: No excuses. It took me a while to get this chapter out, and even as I wrote it, it blew up into another part. But I plan to post that one immediately this week. For those of you reading this later in time…well, I'm happy you've stuck with me this far. It is a labor of love to create such an immersive and engaging 'novel' of a story. I feel that my own desire to continue the story of Frank, Lily, MacGregor and Proxima has been satiated (to a degree), and I am so happy that those of you who have read this feel the same.

This chapter blew up on me, so I have broken it (again) into two - which I am posting back-to-back. I don't want anyone feeling too intimidated by a HUGE chapter.

Just so you all know, I also post this story on Archive of Our Own - where i find it a little more flexible to add photos to the story for inspiration - feel free to search for me over there to see a more detailed version of this story.

I have had a tough time with my confidence in writing lately, and I share that because I think it is important to ask for help when you need it. Big shout out to teresa_agasi and Fanfiction_Connoisseur for helping me find new inspiration as well as pushing me to keep writing!

Those two have some awesome stories on AO3 as well, so please check them out.

Finally, since this story has turned into a novel, I've added a few key scenes below in a new section called, *dun dun dun* "Previously...". If you need help remembering some of what's happened already, there you go...Otherwise, skip ahead, and enjoy!

Summary: Lily receives and unexpected telegram just as the ship is ready to set sail, which cause a rift between her and Frank. MacGregor attempts to beat Frank in a game of chess.

Soundtrack: …A Steamer to Brazil / I want you to rest now

Previously..."Confessions in the Treetops"

While speaking with Trader Sam...Lily gives a voice to an insecurity.

"What if he regrets his decision?" Lily blurted, worry written across her face. "What if he regrets living and not…well, the other choice."

/

What if he regretted his decision now that he has to live with the consequences of being "mortal"?

Would this world be enough for him?

Would she be enough?

/

Frank, speaking with MacGregor "World Enough?"

MacGregor leaned in towards Frank, ready to pry away at his resolve. "What is it you're so worried about? Hmm? Are you thinking that my sister is going to drop you like an old pair of shoes whence we return to jolly England?" ...

Frank snorted, "No."

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't shocked at his somehow very astute question. He'd also be lying if he said he was sure things were going to be just as they are in London as they were right now. But once they get to London, HE would be the fish out of water, and she will be consumed with her research again.

Would I be holding her back?

🚢 🐍 👖💎 ️🛁 🌳 🌹 🐆 🐝 ️ ️

Head Above Water, Part 2

Despite the train arriving to the coast by 10:00 am, the passengers were told that they could not board The Mauretania until the late afternoon. Frank took the opportunity to sneak Proxima out of her cage to let her run around the perimeter of the forest to search for her own meal and enjoy the fresh air since she will be lodged in the cargo hold of a ship for the foreseeable future. Fascinated by the new sights around him, Frank took some time to wander the local trails along the coastline while Lily and MacGregor managed to do some bargaining with a clothing retailer who was traveling home to England. If asked, MacGregor will adamantly declare that he made the best bargain with the salesman, but Lily is convinced she is the one who acquired the best deal of the exchange. Tropical breezes, sweltering humidity and embracing heat soon to be behind them, she figured it would be a good idea to get their hands on something warmer than a thin sweater or a dinner jacket. She's also pretty sure Frank has never owned anything thicker than a raincoat, so the fact that the merchant had a collection of warm clothing that would fit him in his collection was a win win.

The blast of the ship's horn drew everyone back to the boarding ramps at precisely 3:00 PM. Frank returned Proxima to her cage, and found his way to Lily and MacGregor with time to spare, much to Lily's relief.

A review of their itinerary revealed that the ship's engines had been upgraded which meant that their travel home would now only take seven days upon the open seas. The news comes as a pleasant surprise to the trio as they are all more than anxious to return to England to begin an entirely new type of adventure.

By the time the first-class passenger ramp opened, they were shoulder to shoulder with a much larger contingent of travelers than Frank thought possible. He's never seen this many people in one cramped area before, and the fact that he was about half a foot taller than most of them made him stand out awkwardly in the crowd. He made a mental decision to keep moving forward, regardless of the hesitation that kept gnawing at him, making his legs feel heavy.

As they entered the hull of the ship, his initial awe at seeing the massive vessel when they arrived is overshadowed by the stark contrast of the interior's nearly improbably narrow hallways. Stark white walls, electrical lighting and a strange smell made the space feel cold and sterile, and very much unlike the natural elements the Amazon that had surrounded him for centuries.

Frank has never been one to feel the effects of claustrophobia; after all, he's spent years living in the compact quarters of a boat, the four walls of his tiny cabin, and from time to time, spent the night in the cramped shelter high up in the trees of the Puka Machuna. Be that as it may, as they are herded through the tight hallways of The Mauretania along with a throng of other passengers, he begins to feel as if the air inside of the huge ocean liner must be somehow thinner than outside.

Pulling at the handkerchief around his neck, he swallows a lump in his throat while he dodges a man in a bowler cap as he and his two young daughters dart past them in the hallway. Numerous porters and other crew members edge around them with luggage headed to numerous cabins throughout the first-class deck, while several groups of passengers pause in the halls looking lost.

Thankfully, MacGregor seems to know where he is going as he leads them down a hall that opens up into a giant parlor adorned with chandeliers, fancy furniture, and bawdy gold decor. A man behind the bar is polishing glasses, and Frank feels a spark of solace knowing that at least there is a spot for him to get a drink should he desire.

The hallway leads to a dead end, and there is no outlet save for three wooden doors. Painted to match the grey walls, the doors are adorned with brass numbers affixed to their facade along with a matching round doorknob. Two lights nearby illuminate the small corner in a soft, warm glow, and the trio stops expectingly in front of the three rooms.

"Ah! Here we are." MacGregor announces, confirming the numbers on the door match to the ones printed on the paper in his hand. Frank and Lily both sigh in relief and drop the bags from their shoulders. The smell of food wafting from down the hall is motivation enough to freshen up and find the source of the enticing aroma.

MacGregor pulls three keys from the envelope he was handed when he checked them in and unlocks each room. He pushes the first and second doors open to reveal two handsomely decorated cabins that are duplicates of one another. They each contain a medium-sized bed with velvety decor, a sitting area, and a decent size wardrobe in the corner. A small porthole on the furthest wall allows in some natural light, and an electric furnace against the wall is available to heat the small space. The rooms are connected by a washroom and a shared toilet.

The master suite is double the size of the smaller rooms with a sitting room in addition to the main bedroom. In the right corner, a wooden bed frame with large ornate posts lift from each corner, and thick elegant bedding lay atop the mattress. To the left and straight on from the door, a large vanity with ornate designs carved into the polished mahogany finish stands out against the floral wall paper. A circular mirror is affixed to the wall in front if it. Its hand carved wooden legs match the same detailed etchings as the wood of the bed and by the looks of it, both must be very expensive pieces of furniture. A larger porthole, electric furnace, and an oversized dresser complete the room along with its own separate washroom and toilet.

Eager to drop off his belongings and head to the bar, Frank turns to his companions and waves a hand in the air.

"Well, ladies first…" Frank offers Lily the first choice and receives a look of indignation from the younger Houghton sibling.

Frank squints at MacGregor. "What's that look for?"

"Might I remind you, that while you two were off…galivanting in the woods, it was I who made all these arrangements?" MacGregor juts out his chin; a maneuver he thinks makes him appear stern, as he attempts to interject what he believes is a justifiable argument, but when Frank crosses his arms defiantly, he realizes he was quite unconvincing.

"Yeah, and might I remind you, that you wouldn't be alive if it weren't for me. Not to mention, the whole reason you're here is because of your sister." Frank motions to Lily with a nod of his head.

"Oh please, that is something that does not need reminding." MacGregor snorts and crosses his arm in contempt. Frank squares his shoulders, and Lily is quick to step between the two bickering men.

"Gentlemen, please. While I do enjoy a lively deliberation of whose got the bigger…point in the matter…" She clears her throat, making her implication clear, and both Frank and MacGregor ease off of their stance. "I believe the choice is clear." Her voice is full of reason as she rests a hand on each man's shoulder. "Frank should get the room."

"What?!" The two men exclaim together.

"Yes — he is our guest on this voyage home, and after four hundred years, he is due for a little bit of luxury. Besides," She pauses and glances into the larger room, her eyes lingering on the large bed. A flash of a grin appears and then disappears from her face. "That room is much too large for me. It's perfect for Frank. MacGregor and I will take the smaller rooms."

"Lily…" Frank starts to argue, trying to explain he doesn't really need the larger space. He'd be content with the smaller room, and truth be told, he'd much prefer sleeping on the floor versus the soft plushness of a mattress. Due to his sheer size, he's always felt as if he was sinking into it like quicksand, not laying atop it.

"AH! Frank," She cuts him off, and after only two weeks of her company, he knows better not to argue with her when she gets that resolute look on her face."Really, you deserve to have a nice space to yourself. It's going to be a long trip, and you should be somewhere where you feel comfortable and…at home."

She smiles at him, eyes steadfast, and his argument dies in his throat. He lets her words roll over him, and a revelation dawns on him that he doesn't really know what that sentiment feels like.

At home.

The Amazon? La Quila? Spain?

He grapples with the thought for a moment, and is tempted to put forth that at this point, after the events of the past two weeks and reflecting on all he's left behind, the truth is — he feels most at ease when she is with him. If that is what that notion is supposed to mean, then well, that's all he needs. Regardless, he somehow can't articulate the words, so he finds himself nodding in response instead.

MacGregor raises his hand; a precursor to a debate Lily is not in the mood for. She flashes him a contentious look, and he drops his hand quickly in surrender. Assertive to say the least, he's come to learn that Lily is not one to back down once her mind is made up.

Clicking his tongue, he takes a step towards the open door to the left. "As I was saying…I'll just take the, uh, room here to the left."

"Good decision." Lily smirks while Frank shakes his head. He pulls at the satchel across his body and prepares to enter the room to the right, while Lily aims for the middle room.

"Excuse me," A brusque voice interrupts their departure, and the three turn to see a ship attendant standing in the hall, a bright yellow envelope in his hand. His grey eyes travel over the three people standing in front of him, and he scratches absently at his beard as if trying to decide whom to address. His search lands on MacGregor, and his eyes linger on the faded red smear of a tattoo across his forehead. He clears his throat. "Dr. Houghton I presume? A telegram has come through for you." He holds up the envelope and offers it to MacGregor, who makes a passing glance at his sister. She immediately ruffles, and rolls her eyes.

"Actually, that would be me." Lily interjects and grabs the letter from the attendant's outstretched hand with a little more force than is warranted. It's not like it's the first time someone has mistook her brother as the 'doctor' of the family, and after a while she's gotten used to the constant oversight, but for some reason it aggravates her more than usual right now.

The attendant looks at her, surprised, glances at Frank and MacGregor, and then turns on his heel to depart. Lily glares at his retreating back as she starts to tear open the envelope.

Frank elbows MacGregor. "Does that happen a lot?" He asks in a hushed whisper.

"More times than I can count. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Lily has come to expect it, and it usually doesn't bother her as much, but…"

They both look at Lily, noting her tense posture and the way she's pressed her lips together. If he were to guess, he'd say it still bothers her.

Lily continues to read the telegram as MacGregor and Frank look on, their own curiosity set alight as to its contents. A series of emotions flash across her face and they can't tell if she is happy, angry, or sad from whatever the letter may contain.

Finally tired of waiting, MacGregor exhales loudly. "Well? Good, bad or …"

Lily's eyes widen as they lift from the page, a look of astonishment written across her face. "Oh my gosh, MacGregor — it's official!" Her hand swats at his shoulder in jubilation, "Well, almost…" Her elation is enough to bring a smile to Frank's face and he can't help but feel happy for her, even though he has no idea what for.

She hands the letter to her brother, who quickly starts to scan it over, and Lily turns to Frank to explain. "The dean of Cambridge is asking me to write out three months of lesson plans to present once I return, as I am considered for the full-time position…" she feels a sense of pride at the idea of something she has been working towards for years seems finally within her grasp.

"That's great news, Pants!" Frank offers, and runs a reassuring hand down her arm.

MacGregor, who has since finished the letter, has no trouble sharing how he feels about the news.

"Lily! This fantastic! Do you know what this means? Now that Cambridge has expressed interest in our expedition, and you, it means that those stuffy old buggers at the Association and the Archives will be begging us for our time and research!" MacGregor's eyes light up with a vengeful fire as he imagines the flames of retribution beginning to burn under all those that have scoffed at him and his sister in the past. MacGregor is not shy about his contempt for the Association and their elitist attitude, and although he considers himself a dignified gentleman, at this moment, he is not above reproach. Lily and MacGregor have spent years trying to build credibility and gain momentum for her research, but as their sources dried up and the doors were slammed in their faces over and over, that hope of getting someone to listen dwindled quickly…thus leaving Lily no other choice but to obtain what she needed by any means necessary. If she had to break into the archives and steal the arrowhead, so be it.

Lily offers him a tight-lipped smile, and takes the letter back from him to read it once more. Her smile fades slightly as her brain begins to process what is being asked of her.

"Three months…" Her voice is slightly above a whisper, and Frank can see her brow furrow as if she is solving an equation in her mind as she stares off into space.

Frank squeezes her arm, this time to gain her attention. "This is good news, right? I mean, they are pretty much ready to offer you a job."

Her head lifts quickly. "It is! Of course — this is a great opportunity. Fantastic." Her voice is steady and upbeat, but her eyes cast a shadow of doubt across her confident reply, and both men pick up on it. Being considered for a position at Cambridge is a prestigious and highly sought goal for many —including Lily. She always knew it would be an incredible challenge, and would most likely take years to accomplish — so now, as it is seemingly staring her in the face, she feels an inordinate amount of pressure to ensure she is prepared with whatever they ask.

"But…?" Frank offers, attempting to convince her to reveal her full train of thought.

"I mean — I just wasn't expecting to be occupied by anything related to work until we returned home. And three months of lesson plans…well, that will take up some time." Lily frowns. "I know myself — once I start working, I won't be able to focus on much else until I'm done. Ask MacGregor."

Her brother nods emphatically. "As you know, she's quite tenacious when she has her mind set on something."

Truth be told, she'd hoped that the next few days would provide time to decompress and relax. A respite from all of the expectations and responsibilities of life and a moment to breathe before they return to of the hustle and bustle of the 'real world'.

Then there was the other truth — it was her hope that she and Frank would have time to explore their new relationship before the increased scrutiny of family or society were staring them in the face. She and MacGregor would also need to prepare him for the world he is about to rejoin. A war raging in Europe, a society with very different stubborn norms and views, and the undeniable truth that there will be plenty of things he will not agree with or understand.

Frank feels her concern focusing in on him, and it makes him worry. He didn't expect to be a distraction, nor did he want to be. At this point, he has no clue what the future holds — save for one thing — making sure Lily is a part of it.

Frank's hand lands upon her shoulder. "Lily, it's OK. Your life was going to continue moving forward with or without me… tagging along. Besides, we will have plenty of time —," he motions to MacGregor, keeping him a part of the conversation, "—all of us, to decompress before we arrive. I think you should keep focused on the reason you came to the Amazon in the first place. You're gonna be the Darwin of flowers…" He smiles reassuringly, "…nothing's changed."

Frank's willingness to support her without hesitation gives her reassurance, and an unexpected feeling of comfort fills her chest that she isn't sure how to describe. However, as much as she wants to accept his take on how things stand, she can't help but disagree.

She offers him a bittersweet smile. "That's just it, Frank. Everything has changed."

xxxx

That evening the halls are quiet as most of the guests are eating dinner in the formal dining room. Not exactly the scene any one of them desire at this moment, the trio opt for the more subdued option of dining in the parlor adjacent to the main room.

MacGregor meets a lively bunch of Englishmen, and goes on to explore the smoking room with them while Frank and Lily sit and chat in two oversized chairs by the elaborate fireplace. They find comfort in leisurely conversation filled with stories of Lily and MacGregor's childhood, and Frank explaining how he rescued Proxima out of the river one rainy afternoon.

The topic of the lesson plans reemerges and they both agree that she shouldn't try to divide her focus between their completion and the time they have to spend on the journey home.

An idea springs to mind, and Lily raises her glass of wine in the air as a precursor to a bargain.

"Three days." She states resolutely.

"What?" Frank tilts his head, confused by her statement.

"Give me three full days to work on these lesson plans. Three days and I'll have them finished as long as I stay focused. No distractions." That resolute tone he has come to recognize returns to her voice, and he suddenly feels the need to sit up a little straighter in his chair.

"You're saying I'm a distraction?" He exclaims, amused by her insinuation.

She scoffs. "The biggest!"

His eyebrows raise suggestively, and she immediately narrows her eyes at him. "You know what I mean."

Their glasses clink together, and the deal is sealed. No distractions for three days…to which they both agree that their newfound intimacy would most definitely fall within that category; in the most pleasant way possible.

A minute passes and Frank stares at the remaining liquid in his glass. A thought dawns on him. "You know, I could help you. With those lesson plans…" Frank suggests, taking a sip from his glass, eyes on her. "I mean, we've made a pretty good team so far — minus a few minor…setbacks."

Lily tilts her head and smiles at him. "Ah, yes… well, we won't bring all those up just now, we'd be here all night."

"Ouch." Frank winces.

"But really, thank you for the offer. I think I should just put my head down and do them on my own. I don't want to burden you with something so tedious."

"It really wouldn't be a problem. I mean, besides you… and that crazy Prince, I've got the most knowledge about how the petal's magic works. Not to mention being actual proof."

Lily nods, grateful for his offer to help. "You're right. Perhaps when I've completed the first draft, I will have you look things over with me. But for now, I think I just need to lay it all out for my own sake."

"Sure." Franks raises his glass to his lips, finishing the last of his wine.

By the end of the evening, they are laughing and share a bit more wine than either one expected, and when the large grandfather clock in the room begins to toll midnight, they are both leaning into one another as they return down the hallway to their rooms.

"I'm sorry — I think," Lily hiccups, "I drank one more glass than I usually allow myself…" She stumbles, and the arm around her pulls her tighter into the warmth of his body.

Frank chuckles. "Don't apologize. I think we both deserved to let loose a little."

"Pfft…You're barely tipsy — if at all." She scoffs, and starts mumbling to herself. "Not fair, really. Me being all wobbly, and you," She leans back unsteadily to look at him and Frank has to pull her upright before she falls, "…like a walking tree."

Frank chuckles as he steers her to the left and away from a light fixture precariously close to her head. "A tree? Ok. You're done."

Lily rolls her eyes and slaps her hand against his chest, letting her fingers linger long enough to send a shiver up Frank's neck. Perhaps he is feeling the effects of the wine after all.

They come to stand in front of their doors at the end of the hall, and he waits for her to produce the key to her room before moving towards his own. A moment passes and she makes no indication of trying to open her door.

"Where is your key?" He asks after another moment of watching her stare at her door.

"Oh! Um…" She awakens from her daydream and pats at her front pocket with little effort.

Frank, amused by her besotted state, attempts to redirect her attention in another way. "I can go searching for it if you'd like?" He slides a hand down her hip while also trying to distract himself from the way her lips are stained red from the cabernet.

Re-awakened by the sensation of his fingers dancing along her side, she inhales sharply and slaps at the roaming limb. "I think not!" She pushes off of him and takes one large step towards her door, and then successfully produces her key from the other pocket of her trousers.

The glint of the sliver shines across his face as it reflects the light in the hall. She tries once, twice to get the small key into the lock, and when she misses a third time, she starts to get agitated; that is, until Frank's fingers wrap gently around her hand, a source of comfort and guidance, and finally the small key makes its way to the tiny hole.

Click.

Relief climbs its way up her body, just as she becomes aware of the solid wall of Frank's body behind her. A satisfied hum reverberates in her throat, and her shoulders automatically relax as his heavy hands settle tenderly upon them. Without thinking, she leans back into the warmth of his arms and a gust of breath breezes across her cheek, coaxing her eyes closed as a contented sigh escapes her lips. Already forgotten is the line drawn in the sand meant to keep them separated until her assignment is complete. All that exists right now is the feeling of comfort from his embrace.

As Frank secures his arms around her, his own eyes fall shut as he begins to move from side to side gently, as if to mimic the river that they've left behind. The massive ocean liner has no sway or movement really, save for a barely noticeable ebb and flow, and Frank finds himself missing the natural pitch of his small boat upon the water of the Amazon. Lily's rhythmic breathing is comforting, and fatigue pulls at his mind and body, but he is reluctant to let her go, not wanting to say goodnight just yet.

Realizing they are still in the hallway, Lily clears her throat, and separates herself from his arms gingerly. She turns, looking up at him with tired eyes and says the first thing that comes to her foggy mind.

"Time for bed." His eyes widen along with hers, and her hand flies over her mouth. The words are innocent enough, but inebriated or not, she feels a bit mortified by how uncouth they sound.

"I mean sleep. Sleep. That's what I mean. You in your bed, and me…in mine." Her words start to tumble out of her mouth as she pokes at his chest, emphasizing each syllable until she sees a grin begin to lift at the corners of his mouth and she stops talking completely, pressing her fingertips into her temples. A tired groan follows a twitch of her lips, and Frank's grin is fully on display at this point.

"I knew what you meant." Frank assures her, pushing her door open further so she has no choice but to step into the safety of her cabin. "Goodnight, Lily." He leans down to place a soft kiss on her cheek, and then turns towards his room.

Just as he is inserting the key into his own lock, her voice calls out to him. "Frank?"

His name is soft and velvety as it rolls off of her tongue and he can't recall any other moment where his name ever sounded so good.

He turns, his eyes refocused on hers as she peeks out from behind her door. "Yes?"

"Three days…" She reminds him of their deal.

He grins. "Three days," he repeats, solidifying his understanding of what they've agreed to.

He focuses back on her initial statement: Distraction free work. Three full days.

A renewed interest kicks in as he contemplates what will happen once that timeline runs out. He licks his lips, drawing an arm up to lean against the frame of his own doorway.

"…and after three days?" He asks, his voice taking on the same sultry tone as hers.

Lily watches him with interest, eyeing the way his shirt is pulled taut across his broad chest and the way his bicep is flexed above his head. Her mind starts to shove illicit thoughts into her subconscious, but she blinks them away, keeping her door between him and her body — a barrier for her sake as much as it is to deter him.

"Then…" Her eyes shine with a hint of a promise, a flame of something more, and he feels his pulse increase as his mind fills with every idea of what 'then' could hold.

"…Distract me all you like."

"Deal."

xxx

DAY 1

Frank awakens with the first sign of light shining through the porthole of his room. Blankets askew, he groans as he attempts to pull himself from the too soft mattress and makes it as far as the edge of the bed, his bare chest prickling with goosebumps from the cool air in his room.

Definitely not in the Amazon anymore.

Grabbing a long sleeve shirt and a pair of clean pants from the chair at his bedside, he is up and making his way to the washroom hoping the warm water from tap will take the chill from his bones. It takes a few minutes, but soon there is a gush of hot water coming from the sink and he dampens a washcloth to run over his face and neck. He thinks about shaving, but can't be bothered. After all, if he has to wait three days to kiss Lily again, he might as well save himself some work.

Anxious to explore the ship, he pulls on his boots and throws an additional shirt over his base layer along with the nice overcoat Lily had bought for him. He pulls his cap atop his head and is walking out his door within minutes.

The parlor is bustling with service staff setting up for breakfast and he manages to snag a banana and a croissant as he makes his way through several passageways and up a set of stairs to the open air of the deck. A blast of cold wind hits him in the face, causing him to blink rapidly as his eyes immediately begin to water. He pulls the lapels of the coat up a touch higher around his neck and moves behind a wall and away from the unfamiliar cold air. The sun starts to peek out from behind a large cloud bank and when a beam of sunshine hits his skin, it feels like a warm caress across his cold face.

The smokestacks puff and billow white clouds into the morning sky, and Frank has to lean back to see them in their entirety as he walks along the starboard deck. The sights and sounds all blend together as his brain begins to process the fact that he is finally seeing something new after nearly four centuries. Magazines and drawings most definitely do not so the real thing justice, and excitement begins to build in his stomach as if his senses are re-heightened with each new discovery.

Benches and lounge chairs line the edges of the deck and more service staff begin to appear from another stairwell to his left carrying large stacks of towels. A small sign with bright white letters hangs next to the door.

Service Stairwell

Kitchen

Cargo Hold

Frank's interest lights up at the last line, and he waits for the last member of the staff to clear the doorway before slipping his way into the stairwell. Four flights of stairs later and several odd looks from some of the crew, Frank finds himself at a large doorway blocked with a white expandable security gate. Peeking through, he can see a massive open space filled with crates of varying sizes strapped to the floor by ropes and nets. Along the rear wall he can make out several cages filled with straw, and, as if on cue, a cacophony of bird noises erupt followed by a distinct growl.

Proxima.

Frank takes a chance to see if the gate is locked and pulls at the handle. It gives way with a loud screech, and he grimaces, hoping he doesn't set off any alarms with anyone who may be working inside. The interior of the cargo hold is dark and musty—the smells of animals and ocean intermingling with one another. It is unlike any other place on the ship Frank has seen thus far, and oddly, he feels more at ease here than in the fancy parlors or ornate ballrooms upstairs.

"Hello?" He calls out to anyone, his voice echoing against the hard surfaces.

Growl…Purr… Her soft rumblings are filled with anxiousness and Frank immediately picks up on how unsettled she must feel.

As Frank gets closer, Proxima's low rumble turns into a rolling growl, and as her pacing becomes more insistent, she begins to rattle her cage. A tarp is pulled halfway over her containment area, slashes from her claws clearly visible on one end. He reaches her, and lifts away the edge of the tarp to a snarl, and then a loud and happy chuffing noise from his feline friend.

"Hey girl! I missed you! How are you?" He greets her, bending down and reaching a hand in to scratch at her head and neck. She purrs loudly and leans her entire body against the metal bars to allow Frank access to scratch at her entire body, to which he obliges.

"I know, I know… this is a terrible boat, and you hate being in a cage. I hate seeing you in one too." Frank sighs and stands up, looking about the room for an attendant or at least a key box so he can let Proxima out to stretch her legs, and so he can change out the straw with fresh material.

Rapid footsteps suddenly echo in the hall. "Hey! What are you doing? Look out, she's got a nasty right hook with those claws!" A voice calls out from the side of a large wooden crate and a tall skinny crew member comes into view. He looks to be in his late sixties, and Frank wonders immediately how someone his age is able to take care of all the animals in this massive cargo hold.

"Hi there," Frank takes a step towards the older man approaching and extends a hand, "Frank Wolff. This is Proxima — she's my…cat." He smiles warmly at the attendant, turning on his best charm.

The man takes his hand slowly. "Sam." Sam looks between Frank and Proxima wearily. "This angry feline is … yours?"

"Yep." Frank nods, and gestures to Proxima, "Now, I know she can have a little bit of an attitude," Proxima hisses at Sam, and slams her shoulder into the cage dramatically, which garners a warning look from Frank. "…but…she is a good, gentle soul."

Sam snorts. "I think you must be mistaken."

"Aww, but you see, she just wants to play." Frank squats down and retrieves a wooden ball from the corner of her cage and holds it up. "I promise you, once she gets a little energy out, she will be a different animal. Trust me."

"How can you be so sure?"

Frank's grin widens,"Because I trained her myself, and I'm pawsitive she will be a purrfect angel." A beat, and the older man breaks into a laugh, and Frank knows immediately, they are going to get along just fine.

Somehow, Frank manages to talk Sam into letting her out of the cage and within minutes, she is rubbing against both of their legs and chasing the wooden ball up and down the length of the cargo hold. Sam cleans out the cage and puts down fresh bedding and straw, and agrees to let Frank come down daily to exercise and visit Proxima.

After an hour, he returns her to her cage with fresh water and a bowl of chicken parts which she greedily begins to eat as Frank says goodbye to Sam and makes his way back to the upper deck.

xxxx

By the time Frank returns to the parlor, it is buzzing with passengers and crew members. The smell of breakfast is in the air, and Frank can hear his stomach growl over the chatter as he glances around the room. Eventually he spots MacGregor, who is having coffee on his own by the fireplace.

"Mornin' MacGregor," Frank pats him on the shoulder, nearly knocking his coffee cup out of his hand.

"For the love of —" MacGregor sputters, and manages to catch the coffee back in his cup before it lands in his lap. "…Good morning to you too Frank," he wipes angrily at his chin as he sets the cup back into the saucer, watching as Frank settles in the chair across from him. "Although, I must say I am surprised to see you…alone." MacGregor announces garishly as he the cup down on the side table.

Frank squints back at him curiously. "I don't follow." A waiter comes by and Frank orders a plate of food.

The younger Houghton smirks. "I was wondering if I'd be seeing either one of you at all during this voyage."

Frank's eyes widen momentarily and then realization hits as to his commentary. A coy grin follows, and he can't help but be amused by MacGregor's insinuation as he's come to appreciate his intuitive nature and their shared sense of humor. "Ah, yeah, well, we came to an agreement last night that she needs to focus on the lesson plans before anything else. But if it were up to me, I would — ,"

"AH!" MacGregor cuts him off abruptly, "Frank, please, despite my ribbing, I don't actually need to know everything about what you and my sister are up to. Please don't finish that sentence." His hands move to cover his ears, as a grimace crosses his features.

Frank shrugs his shoulders. "Fine by me." He had no intention of revealing to the brother of the woman he is sleeping with any details about what goes on behind closed doors. He was merely going to say he wishes Lily would be a bit more willing to accept his help; but this is her world, and he has hardly been in her life long enough to try to insert himself into it faster than time would allow.

MacGregor leans back into his chair and picks up a nearby new publication. "Well, that's good that she is going to take the time to get those lesson plans done. Very much like her. Always wanting to focus her attention on one thing at a time."

Frank sighs dejectedly. "That's exactly what she said."

The corner of the paper dips down, light brown eyes looking to the forlorn man across from him. MacGregor senses Frank's unease, and as much as he has been warned to stay out of Lily's personal affairs, he finds himself itching to hear what Frank has to say. After all, he feels that he and Frank have also bonded following their journey, and it would bode well for both of them to have a confidant as they return to the hypercritical world that is English society. Though hesitant to admit it, MacGregor has been feeling quite outcasted of late, and he's found comfort in Frank and the confidence he's had in him.

He sits up a bit straighter. "Something tells me that I will regret pursuing this," he murmurs to himself first, then drops the paper completely to face Frank directly, "What exactly did you two…agree to?" He asks, albeit a bit apprehensively.

Frank rubs his palms along the leather of his chair nonchalantly, not making eye contact. "We just decided… that in order for her to concentrate on her project, that she'd need three full days on her own to work — no distractions."

MacGregor lifts his chin. "And by distractions, you mean…"

Frank meets his eyes this time. "You know what I mean. Do you want me to spell it out for you?" Frank's voice starts to rise, and an alarmed waiter in the corner of the room turns their way.

MacGregor's eyes widen suddenly as his hand waves in the air. "No! No…I got it," he exclaims and smiles at the waiter reassuring him everything is alright. He turns back to Frank, looking him over. His shoulders are low and slumped and his features seem uncharacteristic of his usual, confident self. "So, is that why you're looking all…glum?"

"No." His voice is terse, trying to sound like he's unbothered by Lily's request, but his tone only serves to alert Mac Gregor that he is indeed, bothered. He scratches at his chin and stares at the fireplace.

He lowers his defenses a bit with a sigh. "I mean, not entirely. I obviously want to be close to her right now, but it's just that…" Frank pauses, unsure how to put his thoughts into words without sounding like he's complaining. "…I just want to be useful. I've already spent four lifetimes figuring things out on my own, not needing anyone…" His mind flashes to La Quila and the conversation he and Lily had their first evening on the river.

He was showing off; trying to sound enigmatic by admitting something he didn't realize was actually something that truly troubled him…

'I don't have to care about anybody. Period.' He stated boldly, uncaring of how contrite he sounded.

'That's apparent…' Her quick, terse response jarred him. It was enough to also make him admit that if…if there was one person to care about, then perhaps that would be enough.

He blinks into the fire, "…or anyone needing me." He finishes, leaning back into the chair a little more, contemplating how things have changed. He looks back at MacGregor with more resolve than he had a moment ago. "And now, I want to be sure I'm contributing. To what…I'm not too sure yet." His voice lowers, and he fidgets with a piece of lint on his knee.

Fortunately, the waiter returns with a plate of food and silverware. Frank takes the food anxiously and starts eating before the plate even hits the table beside him.

"Did you offer to help?" MacGregor asks, watching as the man before him inhales his food.

Frank takes a breath between bites. "I did, but she was pretty adamant about doing it on her own. As if it was a burden only she should bear." He stuffs an entire slice of bacon in his mouth.

MacGregor grimaces as he hands Frank a napkin. "That's our Lily, fiercely independent and stubborn."

Frank nods, noting the way 'our Lily' sounds so personal. He finishes the food and leans back in his chair once again with a fresh cup of coffee in hand.

He draws in a deep breath. "I don't think she'll ever change," he holds up a hand and quickly adds, "Not that I want her to." He shrugs his shoulders. "I mean, I wasn't in the picture before, why should she suddenly change her habits now that I'm here?" He stares at his cup, the dark liquid giving off tendrils of steam which reminds him of misty mornings in the Amazon. "I guess that's one thing we have in common. Stuck in our ways."

A moment passes and then MacGregor scoffs in Frank's direction, drawing his eyes back to him. "Oh dear Frank…You're looking at it all wrong. You've both already changed significantly, you just don't see it because you're so wrapped up in… well, each other." His hand whirls in the air emphatically, and Frank gawks at him.

"Oh really? Enlighten me."

MacGregor leans forward and onto the arm of his chair, closer to Frank. "Lily may have come to the Amazon seeking the Tears of the Moon, but her motivations changed as soon as we discovered your little secret." Frank's face is unreadable, and so he continues with his observations. "…and she didn't hesitate giving up the petal so you could be free of the stone or 'rest', as she puts it."

Frank nods, a twitch of his lip indicating his pleased reaction upon hearing once again how she gave up the petal for him.

Frank clears his throat, and takes a calm sip of his coffee, interested in his take on how he supposedly changed. "And me?"

MacGregor's eyes light up. "And you…" he points at Frank with a little more flare than necessary, garnering a warning glare from the man across from him. He pulls his hand back to his knee and coughs. "…Erm, well, I knew your motivations changed the moment you kicked me off the boat with the petal. You were prepared to sacrifice yourself and the petal for her, regardless of the consequences."

Frank draws in a deep breath, contemplating MacGregor's words, assessing their validity. His point is almost correct. He knew his own motivations changed; MacGregor was just wrong on when it happened.

Lily's admission of one person being world enough was the trigger to him believing in a life again. Perhaps she was that person. It was enough then for him to reconsider every plan he'd ever made — That was when he knew things had changed.

As if sensing his hesitation, MacGregor mulls over one more observational thought to add on and leans back towards Frank confidently.

Drawing in a long breath, he speaks softly, "You think she's in there pouring herself into those lesson plans to appease the Dean of Cambridge?" He snorts, "She's doing it now so she can be with you. To spend more time with you…" MacGregor leans back into his chair, pleased with himself, "If that's not a changed woman then I don't know what is." He reaches for his coffee cup, taking a gratifying sip as he watches Frank's face digest his observation, this time with a much more pronounced look of realization across his face, much to his delight.

"That …was pretty profound MacGregor. Thank you."

MacGregor lifts his cup in acknowledgment of his well-earned compliment. "I felt it was my duty to reassure you and bring things back down to Earth, so to speak."

"Yah, well — you did great. Good advice." Frank waits for MacGregor to nod and then take a sip of coffee before grinning wide and adding, "…You should get laid more often."

A sputter of liquid flies from MacGregor's mouth and dark freckles of coffee saturate his light trousers. Frank's laugh booms, and echoes throughout the parlor.

"What!? How did you — " MacGregor wipes furiously at the stains appearing across his lap, as Frank continues to chuckle at the way his neck and face have turned nearly the same shade of red as his tattoo. "I think you-you are quite mistaken sir!" He argues non-convincingly as he wipes at his chin.

"Oh please, I'm not blind! You disappeared last night with that group of musicians, you smell like a distillery, and you're wearing the same clothes this morning." Frank stands and finishes the rest of his coffee while MacGregor looks on, his mouth still agape at being called out for his extra curricular activities. Frank pats him approvingly on the shoulder as he walks past him, still laughing. "Good for you little brother."

MacGregor continues to stare ahead, embarrassed by Frank's perspective attention to detail. "Don't tell Lily!" He croaks out when he finally manages to find his voice. After a moment, he collects himself long enough to request a fresh cup of coffee, and a shot of bourbon from the waiter.

xxxx

The remainder of the first full day aboard The Mauretania is full of exploration. Frank discovers that he is much more at ease above deck watching the younger passengers of the steerage deck play and run about. His general curiosity about how things work eventually find him face to face with one of the main engineers. Never one to shy away from conversation on how things function, he spends the good part of the day touring the engine room, and even assisting with lifting a new intake filter in place.

MacGregor, having bathed and changed into fresh clothes, joined Frank for a late lunch and began the process of explaining the war that is currently raging across Europe. News of the war spread to Brazil, but Frank never found himself looking to keep informed. Years of battles and bloodshed prior to the curse had hardened him enough. Knowing now that the modern world continues to carry out devastation upon one another is a reality that is hard to face. Nonetheless, he listens aptly as MacGregor describes the current state of the world he is re-entering. The dense greenery of the jungle and the sounds of wildlife as it is a far cry from gun battles, bombs,

As the evening approaches, Lily finally emerges from the sanctuary of her cabin, her eyes tired and sullen due to the lack of sunlight, and her hands stained with smudges from the lead of the pencil she'd been using.

Frank and MacGregor force her to eat a full meal, as they know she'd only been snacking on fruit and breadsticks she'd hastily grabbed from the breakfast buffet earlier in the day.

"Lily, don't tell me this is how you work when you are at home? I can't imagine this being a healthy work style." Frank hands her a glass of water, his face full of concern.

Her head shakes before she is finished drinking. "No…" she gasps for air, having finished the entirety of her water in one long gulp. "I just have so much to put down, I haven't had a moment to stop. I think I've outlined things well - tomorrow, I'll dive deeper into the details."

Frank smiles at her, grateful that she is making progress. He feels a pang of regret not being able to help, but again, she's set in her ways, and he has to let things progress as if he wasn't a part of the picture. Difficult as it may be, he decides that the best way to help right now is to not get in her way.

MacGregor takes Lily's hand, turning it over in examination. "I see some things never change. Making a mess of yourself, I see. At least you're not drawing on yourself in ink this time."

Lily cringes at his comment and then slowly pulls the sleeve of her other arm up to reveal an assortment of words scrawled across her forearm in blue ink.

"Ahhh…I spoke too soon."

"I ran out of paper and my last pencil snapped its tip." She argues against the look of discontent coming from her brother.

"Excuses, excuses…" MacGregor shakes his head and stands up, kissing his sister on the head. "Well, Love, I'm off to bed. You should be too." He saunters off down the hall, wine glass in hand.

"Thank you, MacGregor, Goodnight." Lily calls after him and sighs, sinking further into the warmth of her chair, pressing her fingertips into the corners of her fatigued eyes.

Frank, ever observant, watches as the tension in her body seems to gather in her shoulders, making her look as if the weight of the word were resting upon them. Even he can tell she feels overwhelmed by the task in front of her, and he wishes immediately to take away some of the burden.

"Lily?"

"Hmm?" The single note of her voice hums in answer without a lift of her head.

"Are you sure I can't help you? I can offer insight into the power of the Tree— Or! Even better, I was thinking I could even come to your class and tell how we, really me, managed to… " He starts to dive into the details of their expedition, but notices Lily is still not paying much attention, her head still down. He waits a moment for her to respond, but when none comes, he moves to the chair vacated by MacGregor, and reaches a hand to her leg. The moment his fingers make contact, she jumps in alarm, and Frank yanks his hand back as if he'd burned her.

"OH! Frank, I'm sorry! You startled me." Her eyes are wide and she immediately throws her hands out to grasp the arms of the chair.

"Yah, I noticed." His heartbeat thumps in his neck, and he thinks about trying again to touch her, but opts to lace his fingers together in his lap instead.

Lily, seeing how her reaction caused him to retreat, reaches out her hand in kind, settling her cool fingers atop the warmth of his. "I'm sorry — I tend to get lost in my own thoughts. You didn't do anything wrong." Her eyes find his, and the sincerity of her words bring him back to her.

Frank shifts forward in his seat, and places her hand between his own. "Did you hear what I… was saying?"

"Yes — and that is very sweet, but I feel confident I'm headed in the right direction. I've done lesson plans like this before, but just not on such a large scale. I just have to figure out how to scale it over the course of three months is all."

"I think if you break it up into categories — maybe focusing on the legend, and then—"

"Frank?" Lily interrupts, her hand squeezing his lightly.

Frank's excited explanation halts, and he meets her gaze, and she smiles softly back at him. "If you don't mind, I'd love to hear about your day?"

Her eyes implore him to change the subject, refocusing on him to reset her already exhausted mind from a day's work. Frank succumbs to her silent plea, and offers her a bittersweet smile and obliges; recounting his visit to Proxima and some, not all of the conversations he's had with MacGregor. The tenor of his voice is soothing, and soon Lily finds herself relaxed and content as her mind has a moment of escape before jumping back in to her assignment tomorrow.

As they walk back to their rooms, side by side, Lily turns to Frank just as they reach her door.

"Frank, thank you."

He stares at her curiously. "For what? I've literally done nothing." The flat tone of his voice doesn't go unnoticed and when she looks closer, the lines across his face seem to appear more prominent as he withdraws into himself. She frowns, feeling an ache in her chest knowing that he is feeling disconnected from her…or perhaps there is something else bothering him. The thought stirs her into action and she takes a step closer to him.

She reaches up, pressing the firm strength of her palm to his chest, feeling for his heartbeat. She stares at the back of her hand, trying to find the right words to express her state of mind to him. "For understanding that I am not…good at sharing."

Her words surprise him, and he momentarily forgets the disgruntled temper that seems to have bubbled up. He blinks and looks down at her. "I don't follow…"

Deep blue eyes connect with his, and for the first time all evening, he feels like he is able to take a deep, full breath. "After my father died, I've depended on two people most of my life —MacGregor, and myself. I've barely known the privilege of what it feels like to have someone want to support me or my research…or our family." She looks back to her hand, and a somewhat nostalgic look crosses her features, "I've learned over the years that if I want something; truly want it, then I should be the one to go after it. No one else will make that decision for me."

"Hey Lily, I get it. It's something you need to accomplish on your own." Frank's voice is solemn, quiet. An awareness of how little he knows about her starts to creep into his mind, and he sets it aside, determined to rectify that in the near future. "Just remember, I'm not just a handsome face — " He attempts a smolder, and Lily stifles a laugh behind her other hand as his left eyebrow arches up wildly. He cracks a smile when he sees her laugh. "Seriously though, I'm here. When you need my help."

Grateful for his support, she taps her fingertips against his chest. "Thank you…for understanding." She starts to pull her hand back to her, but Frank's hand covers it, holding it in place.

"You're welcome," he says simply, without any pretense, no jokes or innuendos, and for that, Lily is doubly grateful. They separate, and simultaneously unlock their doors.

Frank takes a step into his cabin before adding, "And, as far as I'm concerned, I think you turned out just fine."

Blonde tendrils fall across Lily's cheeks as the corners of her lips lift in a bashful smile, and Frank is grateful for that last image as she shuts her door for the evening.

Day 2

The next morning, just as the sun rises, Lily is up and ready to begin the day. She dresses and prepares to review her previous day's work, but remembers that she needs additional supplies before doing so. Pulling on her sweater, she pulls the door to her cabin open and nearly trips over a parcel at her doorstep. She leans into the hallway, seeking out any indication of who may have left the small box at her door, but finds none.

She carries it inside and lifts the lid of the box up and away. Inside is a stack of clean, white paper and a dozen, razor sharp pencils bundled together with a string. A dumbfounded smile lifts the corners of her mouth, and her for a moment she feels the thrill of an emotion pass through her. The description of what it is and exactly how to describe it continues to elude her, but the persistence of the sensation is becoming more and more familiar, and each time it springs to life within her, it is stronger than it was before.

She pulls a fresh pencil and a sheet of paper from the box, and prepares to start her day as a fresh and eager motivation to complete her work burns brighter than the day before. The desire to finish increases tenfold as the reward on the other side quickly becomes an even more draw than before.

It's not until the noon that her stomach begins to growl and her mind flounders with zero energy that she finally sets her pencil down and escapes her cabin to the promenade for some fresh air and food. The sea breeze is light, and the sunshine upon her skin feels luxurious as compared to the temperature of her cabin. The last few nights she's noticed that the air in the room seems to be colder than usual — an issue she's managed to ignore for the most part, but if time allows, she will mention it to the ship steward for an inspection.

The sounds of children running across the deck catch her eye, and she smiles at the sight of their joyfulness. Hot tea and a sandwich are presented to her as she sits at an outdoor table of the Verandah Café — a delightful escape from the interior of the ship, this outdoor café is under the cover of the deck above, but is also perfectly protected from the wind, making it a very pleasant place to sit and enjoy lunch.

Sandwich quickly devoured, and two cups of tea later, Lily finds herself wondering where Frank and MacGregor are off to. A twinge of regret passes through her at not being able to freely enjoy the voyage, but her mind brings her back to reality — it will only take a few days to complete the lesson plans, and then there will be plenty of time to enjoy — other activities.

Her cup pauses at her lips as her mind delivers an enumeration of ideas on what those activities could and would entail. Distractions of this sort are more daydreams, and she allows herself a moment more before bringing her thoughts back to the task at hand.

Her work is about halfway complete, and she finds herself again excited about the prospect of teaching in the near future. She's had only a few opportunities to really be a part of the education of others, and she finds the process extremely rewarding. It's easy to get wrapped up in one thing when that is all you've been focused on for years; and now that it is within her grasp, she feels her enthusiasm remains, but there is something about it that seems different.

The thrill of the recent expedition reawakened something within her.

Growing up, it meant everything to her that her father would include her on as many expeditions and travels as he could. She had been to more countries and far off places by the age of ten than most adults will ever have a chance to do by the time they die. The exhilaration of adventure made her insides flutter in such a way that would be akin to a pleasure she's only recently discovered with a certain Skipper. The glow of adventure is still bright in her vision, and she finds it hard to focus on the tedious work of lesson plans and finite details.

For a moment her mind dwells on a feeling of disappointment that she would be tied to the new responsibility of a classroom when they return, whereas she could be out exploring the world with Frank. Showing him new places, having new adventures…

She shakes her head. All in due time Lily.

She looks down to her notes and the stacks of papers in front of her. This. This is what you've been working towards your whole career… to finally be seen by those who would otherwise choose to ignore you. Cast you aside because you are a woman, telling you your research doesn't matter.

As frightening of an encounter as it may have been, the Prince had spoken the words that she had refused to give a voice to. The refusal by the scientific community to allow her to even submit a paper, let alone sit amongst was the driving force behind her ambition to continue laying the groundwork to plan her expedition in the first place. Beyond that, her success was also MacGregor's success…and neither one would have been possible without Frank.

Her mind begins to listen to a new voice that has come alive with her head.

If, in the end, she was willing to give up the one piece of evidence that would have proven all of their work real and valid, and give her the chance to finally be a part of the community she so desperately sought to join…

Does that mean she no longer wanted it?

A crash of silverware to the floor stirs her out of her reverie, and the waiter nearby issues out an apology to the couple nearby as he collects the dropped cutlery at their feet.

Lily refocuses her mind on the petal and tries to realign her focus to the story she wants to tell.

The Tears of the Moon will most certainly be a medical marvel — but beyond that, Lily feels at odds with how or even if she wants to tell others every detail of their expedition. Calling upon Frank's words — The Tears of the Moon was a legend proved real, does that mean that they will believe in the story of the curse as well? And should she even make mention of it? Of him?

She feels hesitant to share that part of the expedition without at least getting Frank's take on it. After all, the curse, Aguirre and undead conquistadores — a myth as it may be — was still not truly her story to tell, it was Frank's. It should really be up to him how much detail or truth should be shared with the world.

As more guests arrive for lunch, Lily decides that she needs to find a new place to work that isn't the dark confines of her cabin.

Her afternoon is spent in another room of the ship that provides a quiet workspace and a rather impressive library of books on a variety of subjects. She finds herself momentarily fixated on an oversized book that contains maps from different cities and countries around the world. Thumbing thought the pages, she pauses when she discovers a map of Brazil, and her fingers run across the winding trail of the Amazon River affectionately. Nowhere near as detailed as Frank's map, it basic to say the least, but still serves its purpose of outlining the numerous tributaries and landmarks along its shores.

She makes a mental note to tell Frank about the room the next time she sees him, and returns to her assignment, working until the sun goes down, and the light is too dim to make any new progress.

Making her way back to her room, she passes through the parlor that has become a familiar location for a drink or a quick meal, and spies MacGregor and Frank in the corner of the room by the fireplace. She can only see the MacGregor's back and Frank's profile from the distance, but it looks as if they are both leaning towards one another and hunched over a coffee table.

As she approaches, the focus of their attention is revealed to be a chess board, and by the looks of it, surprisingly, MacGregor is set to win, having a majority of Frank's pieces collected on his side.

"I think you underestimated my abilities, Frank. I have the upper hand. Much like my abilities to repair La Piraña on our return voyage…" MacGregor gloats, taking a sip from a glass nearby. Lily assumes an Old Fashioned, as that is usually his go-to drink on most occasions when he's trying to show off.

Frank casts a glare across the table. "Just focus on the game, will you?"

"Fine, lose faster for all I care." MacGregor shifts a piece, and swipes Frank's bishop in the process.

Lily glides silently to Frank's side, and leans against the high back of the velvety red chair he's seated in.

"You know, MacGregor was crowned league champion five years in a row back in Kensington." Her statement results in a puff of the chest from her brother and an eye roll from Frank.

A moment more passes, and the fire pops nearby. Frank scratches the stubble on his chin and leans back in his chair, seemingly defeated.

"Giving up, old man?" MacGregor teases, a cheeky grin on his face, and Lily's eyes widen at his bold choice of words.

Frank's mouth twitches in the slightest hint of annoyance, or perhaps amusement, Lily can't discern which one. Either way, she is enjoying the tete a tete, and just as she is ready to pull up a chair, Frank leans forward, hands on his knees, and stands.

MacGregor claps his hands in triumph. "Well, it was good show…you fought to the bitter end."

Frank nods, and purses his lips. His eyes connect with MacGregor's as his left hand reaches down to the board. Without breaking eye contact, he makes one last move.

"Checkmate." A glimmer of victory flashes across Frank's face, and if there were ever a moment for a victory dance, this is where it would happen. Except Frank doesn't dance — so instead he'll happily stand by and gloat silently as MacGregor's eyes instantly flicker down to the chess board to witness Frank's rook capturing his king.

"WHAT? How on earth — " He cries, examining the board as if determined to find a flaw in Frank's final maneuver.

"Nice try Little Brother. Next time, less talk, more action." Frank grabs his glass on the table and takes back the last bit of his bourbon in one swallow. "Good game." He slaps MacGregor on his shoulder with a laugh and turns to Lily. "Have you eaten?" She nods in the negative, and he offer her his arm, "Shall we?"

She weaves her hand through his and accepts his offer. "Lead the way."

As Frank and Lily depart to the buffet for dinner, they leave MacGregor slouching in his chair, glaring at his fallen king.

"Bugger." He murmurs to no one but the waiter nearby who offers him another round.

Frank escorts Lily to the buffet and they both collect a plate of hot food, but before he can offer her a seat nearby to enjoy it, she is excusing herself back to her room to eat and continue her work. Frank offers to walk her back, but she insists he stay behind and enjoy his dinner.

"Perhaps you can offer MacGregor a rematch to repair his sore ego." She offers as she disappears down the hall.

Left to his food and MacGregor, he returns to the younger Houghton who is already setting up the board for another game. He murmurs something along the lines of 'no mercy', and Frank eats his food silently, nodding along to whatever MacGregor is saying, but not really listening.

He's not unfamiliar with the pang of loneliness; he'd spent a century bouncing from shoal to shoal along the Amazon without settling down or finding the time to rebuild connections with the 'real world'. Time on his own, even with Proxima II, wasn't unpleasant, as he found ways to keep himself busy by learning new skills or hunting for leads on the missing arrowhead. But now, barely even seven days into his final life, he feels the yearning deep within himself that longs for companionship.

Patience. All in due time.

He pulls on his own self-learned ability to exude the composure of a man who's waited more than one lifetime to finally rejoin the land of the living, and if that means waiting another few days to reconnect with the woman he finds himself pining for, so be it.

xxx

Day 3

After visiting Proxima and playing cards with Sam for most of the morning, Frank finds himself in a sunny corner of the upper deck, seated on a large wooden adirondack chair. His eyes are focused on the smoke stacks jutting out from the center of the steamer, along with the puffy white clouds scattered across the vibrant blue sky.

From his vantage point, only two of the four chimneys are visible, which is enough detail for him to guide his pencil across the smooth parchment of his drawing pad.

Realizing Frank needed something to keep him busy whilst Lily was otherwise preoccupied, MacGregor managed to acquire him a large leather-bound sketchbook filled with enough blank pages to keep him busy for a few days. As Frank had undoubtedly noticed, MacGregor has been quick to make friends aboard the ship, and beyond the social aspect, they've been rather generous with helping the trio find writing supplies for Lily, a handsome new dinner jacket for MacGregor, and now, an outlet for Frank's anxious energy.

As Frank is beginning to add some shading to the clouds, muffled voices from behind him draw away his focused attention. Two men in uniforms cross into his line of vision and come to a halt along the railing.

A tall, skinny man with muttonchops shuffles nervously in front of the older gentleman in an unmistakable white cap. Frank immediately ascertains that he is speaking to the captain of the ship.

"Yes, Sir, as I mentioned, the intake vent is not operating and we may need to reduce speed so that the secondary engineering team can take a look." The man draws his hands behind his back and shifts his weight from one leg to the other as he awaits a reply from the captain.

"Not an option Jim, we need to keep the current speed to make time back to England. Isn't the Chief Engineer available?" The captain sighs heavily and runs a hand across his thick mustache.

Jim shakes his head. "I'm sorry sir, but Chief Engineer Daniels is occupied with repairing another issue that popped up in the engine room."

The Captain removes his cap and places it under his arm, staring out across the ocean. His eyes are focused and his brow his drawn in as he contemplates his options. The balance of safety and efficiency is on his mind, for it was only two years prior that the the Titanic made headlines around the world as the 'unsinkable' ship that did not live up to its namesake.

"Jim, if we can't fix the air intake on this deck, then we are going to have a major engine issue. Let's see if we can get at least one engineer on it this afternoon." The Captain's voice is filled with tension as the limited options presented to him are making him fear that their timeline may be effected.

Not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to himself, over the years Frank has managed to stay out of the business of most locals and those who he's come across in the Amazon. At this moment, he contemplates doing the same — but based on what he is overhearing, if the problem can't be fixed, it could mean a delay in their return, and that wouldn't benefit anyone.

Frank stands and sets his sketchbook down on his seat as he approaches the two ship officers.

"Gentlemen," he says kindly, taking his own hat off in greeting, "I couldn't help overhearing that you are in need of some engineering assistance? I just happen to be someone who can help…maybe."

The Captain and his officer look to Frank, both taken aback by his stature and appearance, but offer a kind smile as they turn to address him.

"A very nice offer, son," the Captain grins and offers his hand to Frank, "Captain John Pritchard."

"Skipper, Frank Wolff." He replies, giving the captain's hand a hearty shake and then offers the same to his officer at his side who introduces himself as First Officer, Jim Brown.

First Officer Brown tilts his head to regard Frank. "Skipper, eh? What kind of vessel were you commanding?"

Frank purses his lips and stares out across the expanse of the ship. "Nothing as massive as this beauty here, but just as fast…at least I'd like to think she was."

"And, are you an engineer of some kind as well, Mr. Wolff?" Captain Pritchard asks.

"Well, Over the years I've had a lot roles. Engineer being one of them. I've made numerous upgrades and structural repairs to my boat, and have a pretty keen sense of what may be causing problems while out on the water."

"You were at the helm, and repaired your ship?" Captain Pritchard asks, still trying to figure out exactly who Frank Wolff is, and if he can truly offer up any assistance.

Frank's wide grin lights up his face, "Trust me, I'm my best Captain…," he pauses and gives a confident tilt of the head, "…and engineer."

Yet again, Frank's charm and ability to build relationships in a matter of minutes results in his services being accepted, and within an hour he has pinpointed the issue to a broken fan belt. The First Officer calls down to the Chief Engineer to send a new one up for Frank to install, and once he is done, they are sharing a beer on the promenade deck restaurant.

Grateful and indebted to Frank for his help, the Captain invites him and his family, as he put it, to join him tonight, and for the rest of the voyage, to sit at one of the Captain's tables in the Grand Ballroom. Frank is appreciative of the kind gesture, and at the same time, eager to share the news with Lily and MacGregor.

xxx

By the late afternoon, high winds across the Atlantic began to pick up, sending most of the passengers below deck and into the recreation rooms, parlors, and smoking rooms to escape. It is well past dinner when Frank and MacGregor once again find themselves hunched over a coffee table in the parlor, a chess board between them and MacGregor eyeing Frank's every move to examine his method. He takes a sip from his martini glass as his eyes stay focused intently upon the squares of the chessboard.

A few minutes tick by and just as Frank is about to make his move, in walks Lily from the hallway, and rather than greet Frank and MacGregor, she cuts out a path directly to the bar. Frank looks up just as her blurry figure whisks by. He wouldn't have seen her due to the deep burgundy of her skirt blending in with elegant material of the furniture, had it not been for the faint squeak of a woman who had to scamper out of her way as she forged rapidly ahead.

Frank stands up abruptly, drawing MacGregor's ire. "I'll, uh, be right back…" Frank mumbles.

"Wait a minute, you can't just abandon the game — especially when it's your turn and I have you on the run!" MacGregor huffs and gulps down the rest of his martini with gusto.

"Fine." Frank grumbles and then shift his knight across the board, capturing his King…again. "Checkmate." Frank lunges over the table and speeds away from MacGregor before he has time to comprehend his loss.

"Damn it!" MacGregor flops back into his chair, his eyes on the chessboard dejectedly, and then to his empty martini glass, which he promptly waves in the air. "Waiter!"

Frank sidles in next to Lily just as the bartender slides a glass of dark amber liquid in front of her. By the looks of it, she's foregoing any mixers, and has basically asked for a shot of something strong. He's about to greet her, but she raises her hand, and shoots her drink back in one go without making a face at all, much to Frank's surprise.

"I'm impressed. The last time you did that, you looked like you were gonna throw up." He leans on his elbow as he rests it on the bar, watching as her blue eyes stare straight ahead, seemingly riveted by the bottles of liquor lined along the shelves of the bar.

Lily breathes out, letting the burn of the bourbon escape from her lips. "I guess my tolerance for liquor, and you, has changed over the last few weeks." She smirks at him, and he's immediately interested in what has got her acting so hot-tempered.

"I think that was a compliment." He breathes out sorely, and orders another shot for her and himself from the bartender.

"I'm sorry — I meant that in the most agreeable way." Her face softens, and she reaches a hand out to his forearm, squeezing it reassuringly as she sits down heavily on the barstool.

"Ahh, it takes a lot more than a grumpy botanist to ruffle my feathers." Frank sighs, and when the bartender sets her glass down, he clinks his to it and throws back his drink. "Did you even eat dinner tonight?"

Lily sips her drink this time. "Yes, I ate earlier in the drawing room."

Frank frowns. Her work ethic is admirable, but her method is unhealthy, and he can see the strain it has on her. "The drawing room? Bored with your room already?"

"Well the furnace is acting up, making it hard to get any work done."

Frank nods and make a mental note to check on that for her. "Are you at least making progress?" He asks, hoping for a positive answer.

"Oh yes, tremendous —but… I got a little stuck today." She abandons her drink as she sits closer to the bar, settling her elbows upon the smooth wooden edge.

Frank watches as her fingertips land at her temples, turning in slow circles as her eyes drift shut. He waits a minute before responding.

"Stuck, huh? Have anything to do with the headaches?"

"What headaches?" She replies without looking up.

"C'mon Lily, it doesn't take a doctor to see you've got something going on." He points to the fingers at her head even though she can't see him. When her eyes finally open, she notices the concern on his face. Hoping to deflect it, she triages an excuse in her head, and lands on one maybe a bit too quickly.

Lily drops her hands from her temples and points randomly at one of the lamps on the bar. "Oh, well…it's probably just due to the lighting. I've had to find an alternate workspace to gain a bit more illumination due to the, uh…low light everywhere on this ship."

Frank squints at her, unconvinced. "Lighting? Really, Pants…you're gonna have to do better than that." His eyes bore into hers, and she squirms as he studies her. The dark circles under her eyes have not faded, and she's had her hair up in a bun for three days now, which tells him she's been too focused on her work to find time for herself.

Her shoulders slump and she exhales raggedly. "Fine." She relents, running a hand across her tired countenance. "I'm having a hard time concentrating, which is very much unlike me. For one," She raises a finger in the air to count out her first reason, "I'm not in my study where I normally work…and two…" She pauses, and her hand settles back on the bar, uninterested in repeating the gesture.

She looks back at Frank who has swiveled his chair around to face her and she meets his empathetic eyes.

She sits up a little straighter and for a moment her eyes take on a dreamy, far-off look. A look that reminds him of the way she'd describe her father's stories of the Tears of the Moon. A look that makes his heart feel full. "It's just that we've spent the last two weeks on a most amazing adventure, out in the wilds of the world, discovering incredible things…doing incredible things," Even in the dim light, he can see a flush creep up her neck as she reminisces on all that's happened between them. But then, her shoulders slump slightly, and she reaches out to clutch the smooth cocktail glass between her nimble fingers.

She sighs. "…And now, I'm having a hard time sitting still long enough to focus on these lesson plans. I've been at odds with my attention span all day, and I fear it is taking a toll on me and my work." She shakes her head as if her inability to concentrate is an embarrassment; some kind of impediment to her character, and she takes another sip of her bourbon.

Her honest answer isn't a shock. He's come to expect nothing but the truth from Dr. Lily Houghton. He realizes that she's probably always be this hard on herself — a practice born of trying to keep pace with a world who sees her gender as some sort of limitation.

"Lily," he reaches out to gently pull her hands away from her glass and into his own, and smiles at her gently, "You're not wrong that it's hard to concentrate in a place like this, after an adventure like we've had…" He rubs thumbs across the backs of her hands soothingly, "…But you're no good to yourself if you don't at least come up for air once in a while. Your short attention span is probably your head reminding you to take a break once in a while."

Lily gives him a half-smile. "I know…I know…" She perks up, steeling her resolve. "But I am nearly done — that's what is so frustrating. Hopefully, with a little more work, by tomorrow evening, I should have it wrapped!"

Her voice is bright and hopeful, and Frank feels his heart begin to race at the thought of what tomorrow night may hold.

"Oh hey, which reminds me…" his voice raises suddenly, and the familiar creases of his cheeks come into view when he smiles at her, "…I met the Captain today and long story short, he —"

"The captain? Making friends fast I see," she interrupts, her eyes wide; impressed by his ability to make friends wherever he goes.

A chuckle escapes his lips, and Frank continues, "Yah, well…he invited us — you and me and MacGregor to sit at one of his tables for dinner tomorrow night and for the rest of the voyage — if we want to."

"Oh really?" Her head tilts as she begins to align the direction of this topic to his next question. "Does that mean you have to get all dressed up?"

Frank puffs his chest. "You bet I do… MacGregor will be thrilled, I'm sure." He pokes at the bar with his finger. "Do you think you will be finished in time to join us for dinner tomorrow?" He asks carefully, silently screaming inside that she says yes, but not wanting to push too hard.

She pauses for only a moment, and when she looks up at his hopeful eyes, she knows her answer. "I think that would be lovely. I'll look forward to it." A smile brightens her features, and Frank's heart thumps in his chest.

"Good. Me too." He attempts a casual reply, but his voice cracks, and he cringes at himself while Lily pretends she didn't hear it.

"Well, in that case, I better get back to my room…there is still plenty of time before dinner tomorrow to get some work in!" She winks at him, polishes off the rest of her drink and jumps down from the barstool with Frank's hand as support.

The hallway leading to their rooms is quiet, save for the familiar hum of the engine that reverberates throughout its walls. Frank doesn't mind it. In fact it reminds him of the natural 'hum' of the jungle that would often find its way to his ears. Not born of anything man-made, but filled with the sounds of the wind, the animals, and the river; a serene soundtrack to his life. Truth be told, he misses the ambient sounds of the Amazon as compared to the cold, artificial noises of the giant steamboat.

As they arrive to their doors, Frank bumps Lily with his shoulder playfully, encouraging her to unwind even further as they prepare to say goodbye. He's rewarded with a relaxed grin and playful slap to his arm.

As they reach their rooms, she turns to him. "Thank you, again. Sorry I was in such a foul mood when I arrived…"

"My pleasure—and don't worry about it. I won't even charge for the advice." He jokes, and is rewarded with a soft laugh. The sound is like sweet music to his ears, and so unexpected that it gives him goosebumps.

"Do you want me to take a look at your furnace? You don't want that thing breaking."

Lily pauses, wondering what the ramifications of inviting Frank into her room at this hour would be. She airs on the side of caution. "No, that's alright. I think it will be fine. I'll have a ship steward come and take a look tomorrow." She offers him a sweet smile, and he shrugs in reply.

"Goodnight, Frank." She opens her door and is about to go inside when she hears him clear his throat.

Desperate for one last moment with her, and itching for a longer touch than a lingering caress of a hand, he licks his lips and takes a step towards where she is standing in her doorway. "Just so I'm clear, would a, uh, hug be considered a…distraction?"

Her head turns back his way and she notices how his eyebrows raise optimistically, and she feels her chest warm at the sight.

Lily nods, the loose bun at the back of her head bouncing precariously, as it is only being held together by a single pin. "I think that would be entirely acceptable."

Lily lifts her arms and wiggles her fingers in the air as an open invitation. "C'mere Skippy…" Truth be told, she is quite surprised at how much she has missed his company, and moreover, his touch in the last three days. It had occurred to her that perhaps not being with him was perhaps a distraction entirely of her own creation.

Elated by her approval, Frank is quick to lean down into her opens arms, pulling her into his embrace. His own eagerness at being able to hold her again immediately takes over, and he has to remember to crouch down or else he'd be lifting her entirely off of her feet.

Naturally, Lily wraps her arms over his shoulders, allowing him to surround her entirely by the strength of his arms. A low, satisfying sigh escapes her lips and in an instant, she feels warmth flood her body as if she is pulling it directly from his. Her eyes flutter shut as she feels him tighten his hold on her, and when she breathes, his scent filling her nostrils. Had he not been holding her, she may have stumbled at the feeling of lightheadedness that overtakes her as her body responds towards this supposedly innocent hug. She is acutely aware of his large right hand splayed across her back, his fingers pressing into the tense muscles as if he knows exactly where she's been carrying her tension.

As soon as Lily's arms settle over his shoulders, Frank's lungs fill with the first deep, soulful breath he's taken in nearly three days. He blinks into her hair, his body humming, and inhales her scent deeply. Where there was once a knot in his stomach, a feeling of something not settled, a bloom of contentment grows, and he too feels himself relax. He finds himself contemplating when this woman became such a powerful influence over his emotions.

"This is nice." Lily whispers into his neck, her voice is delicate and silky and the warmth of her breath is soothing against his skin.

"Mhmm…" His voice rumbles in his chest, and in turn into hers; a feeling she has come to fancy immensely. "I miss you." He drawls against her hair, and she can't help the slight tremble of her body as the implication of his simple words washes over her.

He misses her. Them. The intimacy that they ignited so many days ago under the cover of the Amazon still burns, and he longs to rekindle it. She can't deny that she feels the same way.

Heat of another kind begins to spread through her body, settling in the very place that has been suppressed for the last few days, and she begins to wonder if perhaps this simple hug might have been a miscalculation on her part in reference to their deal of no distractions.

Still, the tangible sensations being experienced in the moment surpass any imaginary 'red line' and she allows herself some indulgence.

A smile pulls at her lips and she lets out an unsteady breath. "I've missed you as well."

Her arms tighten; a confirmation of the same aching need to rediscover what has been set aside.

Encouraged by her movement, Frank allows the hand at her back to slide upwards, fingers lighting a fire along her spine, across the expanse of her shoulder blades, and finally landing gently at the back of her neck. His fingers brush the tiny metal pin holding her messy bun in place behind her head, and he pulls it, allowing the blonde river of hair to release and cascade down over his hand and across her shoulders.

A keen understanding of the musculature of the body and how to stimulate nerve endings guides his thumb and forefinger to the pressure points at the base of her head, kneading them firmly in a circular motion. His intention is to release tension from her already overworked mind, perhaps allowing her some respite from the headaches she's been plagued with of late. Almost immediately he is rewarded with a soft groan from her lips, and so he continues his movements, hoping to elicit another response. He's concluded that providing her pleasure, in any form, is a deeply satisfying undertaking; something he is aching to do again as soon she allows him the opportunity.

Frank's unexpected massage sends a bolt of pleasure ricocheting down her arms as if it were an electric current. She is almost certain the feeling is visible at the tips of her fingers as she presses them ardently into his back. As the solid length of his forearm starts pressing her chest more fully against the broad, firm landscape of his own, she can feel the taught pull of her shirt against the sensitive tips of her breasts and her breath catches in her throat. It's then that her mind begins to remind her that if this doesn't end now, she will never be able to return her focus to her assignment.

Frank feels her body tense as his actions become a bit bolder than even he anticipated, and he reluctantly pulls himself back slowly.

He blinks, trying to regain focus as he pushes her to arm's length. "I think dinner is at 7:00 PM," He swallows thickly, trying to pull the words from his dry throat while trying desperately not to quench his thirst by dipping his tongue into her parted lips. "Meet me there? After you've finished?"

Her own mind buzzing with pleasure, she manages to nod her head. "Uh…yes, perfect."

He releases her completely, letting her back herself out of his embrace, because Lord knows he doesn't have the willpower to do it at the moment.

Lily slides away into the sanctuary of her own room, and Frank is left staring at her retreating form.

Safely on the other side of her door, Lily leans against its sturdy facade. "One more night." She sighs aloud.

"One more night," Frank echoes quietly, oblivious to her words as he stands on the other side, gripping the smooth wood of her doorframe.

Two voices reflecting a shared sentiment into the air; their minds seemingly connected by a singular thought resonating between them, unseen; but felt.

Frank breathes in an unsteady breath, and runs a rough hand across his face as he steps away from the temptation that is the warmth of her room and into his dark, empty cabin. He heads directly for the washroom to splash cold water across his face. The frigid liquid shocks him enough that his breathing stammers, and he has to lean heavily upon the edge of the sink to catch his breath. The sound of droplets landing against the porcelain seem to fill the small room, and he stands up straight, letting the remaining water glide down his neck and absorb into the cotton of his shirt.

The darkness of his room is a welcome embrace as he sheds his jacket, shirt and pants, leaving them on the floor as he falls heavily onto the plush bed.

That night, a million images of Lily plague his dreams and when he awakens in the dark, a sheen of cold sweat across his chest and torso, he feels the throb of his arousal beneath the twisted sheets. He reaches a hand down to relieve the pressure, gripping himself firmly, urgently, desperate to relieve the aching need that has built up inside of him.

He nearly gives in to the physical hunger to feel a release, but he stops, grinding his teeth together in frustration and resolve. Only once has he ever been kept at the edge of attaining something that was worth every painstaking moment of waiting. The object of his desire being something he'd never even seen or touched but knew too well of what its power held.

The Tears of the Moon.

The result of attaining it was the end of a curse, and the rebirth of his life by the hands of a woman who now occupies his mind even in sleep.

Now, as he redirects his hands to grip the sheets at his sides, and wills his body to relax, the object of his desire has a new form; one that in just a day's time, he would have in his arms again; a tangible presence, and not just a fantasy.