Notes: This is part 3 of Head Above Water. I originally wanted to have it all in one chapter, but it grew like a small puppy, and then suddenly it was 25k words…. and here we are. 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.

Summary: Miscommunications and doubts pave the path for a turbulent voyage home. Will Lily and Frank be able to work through their own re-emerging insecurities?

Soundtrack: 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"

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.

🚢 🐍 👖💎 ️🛁 🌳 🌹 🐆 🐝 ️ ️

Head Above Water, Part 3

DAY 4, 6:45 PM

15 minutes until dinner

Nervousness. That's what that feeling is, Frank thinks to himself.

A feeling of anxious anxiety churns in his belly, making Frank feel slightly nauseous as he stands in his washroom, attempting to shave the stubble from his chin. The anticipation of finally being able to spend time with the woman who has occupied his mind for the better part of the last month sends a wave of turbulence through his body, making it difficult to have a steady hand; an important necessity when holding a fresh razor blade to the delicate skin of your cheek.

He manages to complete the task, even though it takes longer than he intended, and makes his way back to his bed to look over the clothing he's laid out. Again, thanks to MacGregor's musician friends, they were able to acquire him some formal dinner attire, and, thanks to one of the band members being a rather talented seamstress, they managed to make the alterations in one day to ensure it actually fit him.

Fascinated by the changing styles of clothing over the years, Frank has always tried hard to find attire that fit him well. Not an easy feat when you are over six and half feet tall and have a chest as wide as the Amazon. Nonetheless, after about a half century of not shaving and wearing the same outfit day in and day out, he decided that he'd take a bit more care of himself. Immortal or not, he's not going to let his rugged good looks go to waste. Foregoing the beard and hair all together, he went for a simple, easy to manage look and stuck to it.

Good hygiene can be tough in a place where you sweat as much as you breathe, but he's always ensured that he took care of himself — when he wasn't getting stabbed.

It wasn't often that he had a chance to truly dress up in something more than a clean pair of pants and a new waistcoat. So now, as he stares at the black and white tuxedo on his bed, he feels the eagerness and excitement flow through his veins anew.

He pulls on the black trousers, enjoying the way the smooth fabric glides across his legs. The cool, soft feel of the material is very different than the rough cotton of his normal trousers, and if it weren't for his underpants, it would feel almost as if he weren't wearing anything at all. For a fleeting moment he considers going without his underpants, but decides it's probably a better idea to have a secondary layer of clothing under the strange fabric…just in case.

As he threads the smooth leather belt through the belt loops, an odd comparison comes to mind. It is almost as if he is readying himself for some sort of battle — adorning an 'armor' of sorts as he prepares to set foot into the modern world of men and society that he'd been absent from for centuries.

Next is an undershirt and then a crisp white button-down shirt which he tucks neatly into the waistband of his pants. He wishes there were suspenders in lieu of the belt as he checks himself in the mirror to ensure he's evenly tucked in everywhere. There is a white waistcoat next, followed by a pair of glossy black shoes. They are stiff and a touch too small, and Frank immediately contemplates wearing his leather boots, even though he knows it would most assuredly not go with a formal dinner tuxedo.

Finally, he picks up the narrow strip of white material next, holding it up to his neck while looking at himself in the mirror.

The bowtie.

He returns to the vanity mirror and tries once, then twice to tie it with no success. Frustrated, he drops it on top of the table, convincing himself that he is creating his own style that doesn't include being choked all night. Finally, he pulls on his black tailcoat and examines himself in the mirror one last time.

His own image shocks him. Far gone is the scruffy, hardened man of the Amazon, and in his place is an almost unrecognizable reflection of a man who, from the outside looks polished and sophisticated, but on the inside is someone who is starting to wonder what version of Frank Wolff will emerge once all of this pomp and circumstance is stripped away.

A rough exhale depletes the air in his lungs and when he breathes back in, he smooths out the lapels of his coat. "Who is this guy?" he says aloud to the mirror, almost expecting an answer back.

Pursing his lips, he turns for towards the door and grabs his key. "Doesn't matter." Not worried about what his appearance means, he only cares about one thing right now, and that is a certain botanist waiting for him at dinner.

He stows they key into the pocket of his coat, wrenches his door open, and makes his way to the grand ballroom.

xxx

The grand scale of the main dining room is like nothing Frank has ever seen. The eloquent melody of a pair of violins echo vibrantly through the room, and the sounds of boisterous conversations fill the air. The room is large and elaborate, with two stories of dining available to those who come to dine. The first floor, however, is reserved only for invited guests, as Frank and his party are most certainly in that category.

Frank's eyes are drawn upwards, examining the majestic dome at the center of the room. The massive piece of architecture encapsulates the space, giving it a celestial feel. Intricate patterns adorn the cream and gold interior of the arched roof, while hidden lights within it reflect down into the large open space, as if the warm glow of sunlight were still shining down upon them.

They spared no expense …

MacGregor's words echo true in his ear as his eyes continue across the room. There are two levels of dining, giving the space an open and airy atmosphere. The furniture throughout the room is upholstered in a deep pink and rose-colored material, with tapestries hanging along the walls, giving the space a very regal and refined feel.

"Well hello there." A distinct male voice calls out to him suggestively from behind, and Frank turns to see MacGregor staring at him with approval written across his face. He is dressed in similar fashion, a black and white tuxedo, fitted to his tall frame. Frank eyes his perfectly tied bowtie with a hint of annoyance.

"Hey." Frank mutters, feeling a bit antsy under his prolonged stare.

"'Hey'?" His eyes roll dramatically. "I hope that is not how you plan to address my sister when she arrives." MacGregor saunters closer, staring at Frank's open collar and the way his jacket hugs every curve of his muscular physique.

"No, it's not— and stop staring at me like that."

MacGregor makes a face. "Like what?"

"Like you're undressing me with your eyes." He barks back.

MacGregor scoffs. "You wish."

Frank glances around the room anxiously. "Is she here yet?"

"No. She's probably still huddled in a corner of her room scribbling notes or drawing another diagram of that ruddy petal. It's like pulling a cat away from a mouse with her." A waiter passes by with a tray full of champagne and he grabs two glasses of the bubbling liquid.

MacGregor inches closer to Frank, sensing his nervousness. It's charming, even for Frank. "Relax," He insists, handing him a glass, "She's already head over heels for you. All you have to worry about is not mucking it up." He says teasingly.

His words trigger a release of comfort into his bloodstream, and Frank finally smiles back at him. "Thanks Mac. I'll do my best."

MacGregor holds up his drink in the air. "Well, here's to you Frank. The man of the hour, getting us invited to dine with the Captain of the ship!" He seems almost giddy as they tap their glasses together, enjoying the moment of prestige.

Frank finishes his glass in one long swallow, hoping the alcohol will quell his nervous energy. The same waiter is returning with a fresh tray of bubbly, but before Frank can grab another, his eyes fall on the foyer entrance, where a lone figure stands, glancing about the room.

Lily.

She is a vision in an enigmatically dark blue dress that somehow shimmers in the evening glow of the candlelight that fills the room. Her hair is pulled up, revealing the long expanse of her neck that seems to go on forever before it meets the lace at the top of her dress. Her pale, soft skin seems to gleam in the light, and Frank's fingers tingle at the sight, craving to touch it again.

Still unaccustomed to seeing her in more than pants and a skirt and blouse, Frank's mouth goes dry at the sight of her. It's as if she somehow pulled the radiant blue of the sky and blended it with the sparkle of the ocean to make that dress. The shade of it somehow amplifies the shine of her eyes and the creamy expanse of her skin, and even from across the room he is captivated by her presence. The tempo of his heartbeat begins to thump wildly in his chest, and when MacGregor glances at him, he's sure he can hear it.

"Close you mouth, Frank." MacGregor whispers.

Frank pulls his jaw from the floor and swallows the lump in his throat. Every moment of their journey comes rushing back to him and he feels the longing for her pour over him like an avalanche. Grabbing two fresh glasses of champagne, he convinces his legs to move, and makes his way over to Lily. She doesn't see him, and is grateful that he has one more moment to admire her as he steps beside her.

"Excuse me, Dr. Houghton?" Frank calls out to her.

When she turns to finally meet his eyes, his chest fills with warmth as her face lights up at the sight of him. Her features are accentuated by a light touch of makeup — not that she needs it, but it serves well to amplify her cheekbones and add a blur of smokiness to her already beautiful eyes. Gone are the darkened circles that seemed to plague her features for the last few days, and instead his eyes take in the crinkle of her eyes as she smiles at him, her lips full and stained with red from lipstick.

"Oh my gosh, Frank…" Her eyes travel over his handsome features as she breathes out audibly at the sight of him. She feels a tremor of longing slide from her arms down to the tips of her toes as she takes in his appearance. The smooth, black tuxedo pants hang from his hips just right and are barely wide enough to hide the muscle of his legs, while the edges land at his feet where she is shocked to see a pair of polished black shoes in place of his worn leather boots.

His crisp white shirt and waistcoat are snug against his body, while his black tailcoat completes his look as a distinguished gentleman. Stunning as his appearance may be, she can't help but fill there is something amiss that gives her pause. Perhaps it is the uniformity of the black and white tuxedo and seeing him in something so far gone from his world, that it almost diverts her attention away. Her eyes travel to the top of his chest, and she grins at the sight of his tanned skin peeking through at the top of his shirt near his collar, and where a bowtie should be. Knowing now that even though he is trying to fit into her world, he still retains his own personal charm, makes him even more attractive.

"You like?" His arms raise up, and he turns slightly to the left then back to the right, showing off his new attire.

"You look, absolutely…handsome, Skippy." The wide smile she has grown accustomed to is plastered across his face and she feels her own lips turn up in adoration.

His eyes seem to sparkle as his eyes dance over her once more. "Not too bad yourself, Pants."

Lily smiles and then takes a moment to glance around the room. "This room is breathtaking…"

He hands her the glass of champagne, and as her fingers wrap around the stem to take it, he pulls it back, forcing her to take a step closer to him so she doesn't spill. Just as she does, he leans in close to her ear. "You, are the most breathtaking thing in this room." He leans back, connecting his eyes with hers.

Heat climbs up her neck and arms as her eyes dart from his eyes to his mouth.

As if reading her mind, he leans in, eager to rediscover the taste of her lips. Just as they are about to make contact, MacGregor's hand slaps Frank in the back and he nearly spills his champagne across Lily's dress.

"Back together again!" MacGregor shouts excitedly, glancing between his sister and his former Skipper. He immediately sees the scowl across Frank's face and Lily's flushed skin, and makes the assumption that he has once again effectively ruined a moment.

"I've done it again, haven't I?" He asks solemnly.

"You have impeccable timing, dear brother." Lily smiles begrudgingly, and brings her hand up to tap at his cheek with a little more force than necessary.

xxx

They are seated by Captain Pritchard himself at one of the larger round tables at the center of the room. Frank spends a few moments explaining how they met and how appreciative the Captain was for his help, and just as the announcement that dinner is about to begin, the Captain excuses himself to the bridge to check on the ship's progress.

Frank, Lily and MacGregor sit down and are promptly greeted by Henry and Margaret, 'Maggie', Quinn, an older couple who are returning from a tour of South America, and are absolutely elated to meet the trio and learn of their recent successful expedition. They immediately request to be addressed as Henry and Maggie, foregoing any formality and within minutes it's as if they are all long-time friends.

Beside them are Alfred and Beatrice Gable who are a stark contrast to the friendly and engaging couple nest to them. They are a middle-aged, wealthy, high-society couple from London. On a trek across South America, they cut their trip short when their tour guide abruptly quit on them. If Frank were to guess, their tour guide got fed up with them and they were lucky he didn't abandon them in the middle of nowhere, as they seem like the typical pretentious, snobbish type of people he's met over the years. The same type that he never felt guilty about swindling for cash with Trader Sam.

"Dear me! It sounds like a turbulent and thrilling adventure, I must say!" Henry exclaims, leaning forward on the table with apt attention directed on MacGregor, who has taken it upon himself to be the storyteller of the evening. Hard to disguise his still visible tattoo across his forehead, it wasn't long before questions arose and he is animatedly retelling the story of their expedition to the table. He skirts around certain details involving undead conquistadores and Frank's elaborate history, not wanting to spoil the tale for when he gets to regale the Association with it upon their return.

Maggie turns to Frank, delight in her eyes. "And Frank, you were an experienced Skipper for how long?"

Frank, MacGregor and Lily all exchange a glance, and Frank turns back to Maggie, mouth open, searching for the best answer. "Oh, well…longer than I can remember." He grins.

"Well, it is quite lovely to hear that you all made it out of such peril safe and sound!" Henry chimes in, chewing loudly on a breadstick. He turns to Lily, and points the stick at her. "And Ms. Lily, you're a doctor?" His voice is alight with curiosity.

Before Lily can reply, a snort and two muffled snickers are heard from the Gables, who are seated across from Frank and Lily. Perturbed eyes focus on them, and together they make no effort in hiding their disregard for Lily's aforementioned title.

"Of botany…" Lily replies kindly to Henry, choosing to ignore the indignant look from the other couple, "And thank you, we had quite a …memorable adventure indeed."

Mrs. Gable takes a sip from his glass of wine, and lowers it to the table while eyeing Lily; her overdrawn eyebrows arching over her purple eyeshadow. "Doctor of Botany?" She scoffs, "Is that even a real distinction? I guess it doesn't matter anyhow…I suppose a woman as a doctor of flowers is appropriate." Mr. Gable smirks at his wife's deduction, and dabs at his mouth with the linen of his napkin.

Frank feels the heat of Lily's irritated stare as she levels her gaze at the couple. Then, instantly it's gone as her mouth offers a tight-lipped smile, apparently choosing to take the higher ground — for the moment. "Well, it's served me quite well as being one of the most published female botanists in all of England."

"I suppose that they ran out of things to publish then," Mr. Gable laughs at his own snide remark, his wife giggling along with him. He waves a hand over the table as the rest of the occupants begin to ruffle at his rude commentary. "Now now, I'm only teasing the young lady… I mean no disrespect."

"Could have fooled me," MacGregor grumbles into his wine glass. He and Frank share a look.

"Lily is going to help a lot of people with her work. She's going to change the way medicine works forever." Frank offers, attempting to spin the conversation. He shares an uplifting smile with Lily once again and turns back to the group. "That's more than I can say of most men I've met in all of my lifetimes," Lily's eyes widen at his slip of the tongue, and he quickly corrects himself, "Uh, lifetime. Singular." He clears his throat and reaches for his water glass as the others stare at him blankly.

Lily is grateful for Frank's comment, and manages to reset her focus on the positive. Thankfully, Frank's assertion seems to deter the Gables from any further jabbing for the time being, and the table returns to other topics of conversation ranging from the current state of the war to how MacGregor got his now infamous tattoo, to employment.

Henry and Maggie are retired and have enjoyed the past few years traveling the America's. Henry is a real estate tycoon, and managed to make quite a fortune selling and trading parcels of land throughout Europe with Maggie working alongside him for years as his partner. Sadly, they never had children due to a reason that they didn't elaborate on, but they have been married for over thirty years, and from the looks of it, are still very much in love.

The Gables are both descended from wealthy families, as they were both eager to share, and while Mr. Gable works for the Bank of London, Mrs. Gable focuses entirely on decorating their lavish homes with artwork and trinkets from around the globe.

The fanfare of the string quartet hits a crescendo as the main course is delivered by the waitstaff, and MacGregor takes it upon himself to refill everyone's wineglass. Lobster tails and steak are presented, and as they table begins to eat, Mr. Gable decides to reignite his interrogation of Frank and Lily.

"So, what is that you do, Mr. Wolff?" Mr. Gable's overly grandiose voice calls out between bites of his food.

Frank cuts a piece of his steak, not looking up. "Not much — yet."

Everyone at the table chuckles, except for the Gables, which doesn't surprise, or bother Frank in the least.

Mrs. Gable scrapes the tiniest bit of food onto her fork and slides it between her plump red lips. "You don't have a job?"

"Well, I was a Skipper of my own ship for some time. But now…I'm not too sure what the future holds." His voice tapers off slightly, giving way to a feeling of uncertainty. Even he has not focused heavily on what his role in society will be once they return to England. Contemplating the future has not really been a priority for Frank for a long time. Even now, as the curse is behind him, all that he's truly focused on has been the woman seated next to him. The thought of other 'things' like holding a job or what he would be doing with his time has not been brought to the forefront; at least, not until right now.

Lily turns to regard him, needing to see his expression to know if the flat tone of his voice is for show, or if perhaps there is something more behind them. His eyes are focused on his plate at the moment, and since she can't make any determination, she decides to add on to his commentary.

"Frank's skillset is quite…unique, and extensive. His resourcefulness and knowledge of the Amazon was instrumental to the success of our expedition," Lily's eyes take one more glance in his direction to find him looking back at her curiously. "He will be well prepared for anything he decides to take on." She finishes quietly, meeting his eyes.

The topic of what the future holds for Frank individually has not really been discussed, and now that it is out in the open, it hangs heavily in the air.

Lily doesn't expect him to attain a job immediately. After all, she and MacGregor are quite well off financially, and if he chooses not to work, then so be it. However, Frank doesn't strike her as someone who would sit still for too long, and so whatever he decides to do with his free time once they return to England will be entirely up to him.

MacGregor, sensing some tension, clears his throat, feeling it is his turn to wax poetic about their Skipper. "Now, Frank here is quite adept at many things. He speaks several languages, has an incredible talent for art and drawing, and can cook piranha to perfection." Lily and Frank laugh at the same time, sending a sense of relief through MacGregor's veins. He cocks his head to one side, "Although, in a fight, I'm afraid I have him beat…after all, I do have the better form when throwing a punch."

Frank nearly chokes on his wine, but recovers quickly and wipes his mouth. He waves a hand in front of himself. "Not true - that honor belongs to Lily, she's the Houghton that has a mean right cross!" Frank interjects, and Maggie, Henry, MacGregor and Lily all break out in robust laughter. Lily swats Frank on the arm, and he feigns injury, which causes a new bout of giggles to bubble up across the table. He's pleased with himself, knowing that humor is always the best way to break the ice, especially when he gets to see the woman next to him smile.

Despite the jovial nature of the table, Mr. Gable presses further with his curiosity about Frank's past and future. "Quite generous of the Houghton's to take you in. After all, as Mr. Houghton explained, it seems they sort of 'plucked' you straight out of the jungle."

Mrs. Gable's face lights up suddenly. "Oh that's right, you've just been plucked from the wilds of the Amazon!" She turns her pointed chin to her husband, "Doesn't it remind you, Jack, of that one novel…Oh, what is it? About that wild man discovered living with the animals?"

The corners of Mr. Gable's eyes crinkle with thought, then widen. "Tarzan!"

"Oh yes, Tarzan, the Ape Man!" She says in a high-pitched voice.

Frank's eyes narrow, unsure of what novel or character they are referring to, but is not entirely pleased with being compared to a 'wild man'. "I don't talk to apes." He glowers.

Without thinking, MacGregor chimes in. "But you do have a jungle cat that you frequently hold long convers—" He stops mid-sentence when he receives a murderous glare from the much larger man sitting next to him. He grins apologetically, "Right, sorry."

Frank reaches for the wine bottle and fills his glass, and Lily's. "Well, I am very appreciative of the Houghton's," his anger dissipates as he allows his attention to focus back in on the future. "They've offered to show me what lies beyond the banks of the Amazon. And I'm excited to see what else the world has to offer."

"Now that is something to be cheers about!" Henry remarks happily, giving a sideways sneer in the direction of the Gables' and lifts his glass in Frank's direction, who raises his glass in appreciation.

As the meal continues on, Maggie and Henry manage to regain control from Gable's terse commentary, and share stories of their time in South America over the last month.

There is a moment during one of their stories where Henry glances at Maggie, his eyes full of love and affection, as he explains how he proposed to her many years ago. Lily feels herself drawn to their devotion to one another and it gives her reassurance that not all relationships end in heartache. A notion that she has been paying more attention to as of late.

Beyond the charming stories of Maggie and Henry, she has been thoroughly impressed by Frank's ability to deflect the rude comments from their other dinner companions. His quick wit and flair for storytelling has kept her from flying off the handle and truth be told, she's found it very attractive and captivating. A pause in the conversation prompts him to glance her direction, and they share a secret smile which, aided by the wine, ignites a tingling sensation that spreads to her belly serves as a reminder that tonight is the end of their agreed 'distraction free work time'. She already knows how much she misses him; misses talking with him; longs for his touch…and as she begins to recall what his body feels like under her touch, an impulsive thought flies through her mind, and she can't help but wonder if she is bold enough to make it a reality.

Her eyes stay on the man next to her, skimming across the dark skin of his neck and down the length of his arm. He's reaching for his wine glass and the flex of the muscle beneath his dinner jacket pulls the material taut, accentuating the size of his shoulder and bicep. Not normally a provocative sight, as she's gotten used to the sheer size of him, but since it has been nearly four days since she's felt the full strength of his arms around her, the simple movement makes her body feel like liquid heat is running through her veins.

Her lips feel dry suddenly, and she reaches for her own wineglass to quench at least one of the thirsts her body desires. She returns her now empty wine glass to the table, and within a few minutes, starts to feel her inhibitions begin to melt away.

Frank's hands are flying animatedly about as he tells a story about how he and Trader Sam had to battle with marauders trying to steal from one of the tribes' settlements. Maggie and Henry's faces are wide with awe and shock, while the Gables' faces look almost pained and sour. Lily envies Frank's ability to ignore them. It's not as if they are hiding their obvious disapproval of Lily's accomplishments and title with their discourteous remarks and snide laughter.

Lily is not a woman who likes to be laughed at. She imagines really no woman would. But over the years she's come face to face with plenty of prejudice because of being a woman, and at some point, she realized enough is enough and began to fight back; so to speak. Standing up for herself has been a prominent part of what makes her 'Lily', as MacGregor describes her, and it felt good knowing that she was standing her ground.

The soothing heat of the wine begins to radiate through her limbs and her hands begin to tingle in her lap. She plays out the scenario in her head once more, and makes up her mind. Decorum be damned. She's never been one to abide by the societal rules of engagement anyhow.

The conversation continues down a dull path on the topic of weather and Frank nods his head politely, not really paying much attention to the drone of Mr. Gable's voice. He takes another long drink of his wine, silently wishing it were something a bit stronger, but is grateful for the alcohol nonetheless, when all of a sudden, he feels the warm weight of Lily's hand on his leg. He thinks nothing of it, knowing that they've not been in close contact with one another for a while, and she must be seeking some form of contact. He looks over to her with a smile, happy to have the physical connection, and when she returns the smile, he can't help but notice a flicker of something more in her eyes. Before he can analyze it further, the waiter returns to deliver dessert to the table.

A piece of tiramisu and fresh berries is laid in front of each person and with a giddy squeal, Maggie picks up her fork and dives into the decadent dessert.

"Oh dear… this is just divine." Her contented sigh is palpable as she enjoys her first bite. When her lips surround her fork for her second, her eyes close in delight.

MacGregor echoes her sentiment, and proposes a toast as a fresh glass of champagne is being poured for each member of the table. The clink of glasses and a hearty 'cheers' from the group adds a touch of merriment to the somewhat tense evening of conversation.

Frank is starting to feel the buzz of the wine and now that he's had some champagne, he starts feeling as if his limbs are lighter than before, and a more relaxed feeling spread throughout his body. He looks back to Lily, who is engaged in a conversation with Maggie over the growing cycles of a certain medicinal plant. He is vaguely aware of Lily's hand still on his leg as he reaches for his fork to try the sweet dessert in front of him.

Just as he is taking his first bite, Lily's probing hand starts to glide up the hardened muscle of his thigh and he begins to realize this touch may not be as innocent as it may seem. As her movement continues, an unmistakable rush of blood flows through his body, and almost instantly, he feels himself swell as her hand comes dangerously close to his lap. The thin material of the trousers only seems to amplify the feeling of her touch, and he swallows thickly, as her insistent hand moves towards the inside of his leg. He attempts to move her away without drawing attention and when her hand disappears, and he breathes a sigh of relief as he closes his eyes, willing his body to relax.

"Frank?"

Frank's head snaps up at the sound of a voice calling out to him. "Huh? Yes?" His eyes search for the source of his name and land on Maggie. "What was that?"

Maggie smiles sweetly at him. "What do you think of the dessert?"

He takes another bite of the tiramisu. "It is de-LICIOUS!" Frank's words choke out as the hand reappears, landing not so gently over the front of his trousers and strong, nimble fingers firmly grip the growing arousal beneath.

His knee jerks up and bangs the underside of the table suddenly, causing the silverware in the vicinity to clatter across the table. Frank's mouth opens wide as he attempts to stave off the attack beneath the table, but when his eyes refocus, he realizes the occupants of the table are looking at him, alarmed by his suddenly erratic behavior. Needing a quick distraction, he bangs his hand on the table heavily, sending the cutlery in the air once again. "Delicious! Maggie! Thank you for asking." He repeats loudly, an awkward grin upon his face.

In nearly every moment in his …lives…Frank has never truly found himself in a situation quite like this. He glances in Lily's direction and is unnerved to see her face is stoic and neutral as she too takes a bite of the dessert in front of her. He feels perspiration begin to cover his head, and he turns to see MacGregor staring in their direction with a stunned look on his face.

Frank has to bite his lip as he sits stiffly in his chair, attempting to not react as Lily's hand continues to wreak havoc along his leg. He paws at it, eventually grabbing it with his own; ensnaring it to a stop.

The waiter comes by to begin clearing the dishes, and Lily pulls her hand back reluctantly to her own lap so as to not be discovered, and Frank breathes in a deep, halting breath, grateful that he won't embarrass himself, but slightly disappointed at the loss of her touch. He eyes her knowingly, determined to return such attention to her as soon as dinner is over.

Unfortunately, Mr. Gable has one more question before both Frank and Lily are in the clear.

He leans forward onto his elbows and directs his gaze to Lily. "What about you, Ms. Houghton?" At your age, how is it you do not have a family to attend to? I would think someone as attractive as yourself would have a husband and a family, rather than a …career." His ask flippantly.

"I've done just fine on my own, thank you very much." Lily remarks quickly, hoping her terse reply will suffice enough to not require any follow up.

"One does not need a husband to measure success in their life." MacGregor suggests, much to Lily's delight.

Seeing as how he is not making any progress with Lily, Mr. Gable's judgmental eyes turn to Frank to try to convince him his argument is sound. "A woman has a certain role to fulfill within a society. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Wolff?"

Frank attempts to sound polite, not wanting to cause a scene. "What role is that?"

"To attend to a family. A home. A husband. That is how society functions, and how things continue to progress."

Frank pulls his shoulders back, settling further into the cushion of his chair. He's not sure if what Mr. Gable is saying is at all true in any way, as he'd never really kept up with what 'regular' people did outside of the jungle. He looks at MacGregor, who is, for all intents and purposes, evidence to the contrary of Mr. Gable's statement. He studies Henry and Maggie for a fleeting moment, their chairs pulled so close to one another as if unable to be apart, and they seem to fit that description, minus the fact that they never had children.

And Lily. His Lily...this unique, independent, determined force of nature...In no way did he see her conforming to what it is any 'society' dictates, let alone what a stranger at a dinner table.

Frank aligns himself with one train of thought, and that is if society is to progress, as Mr. Gable puts it, then that means things should change. Be challenged. And if anyone knew how to do that—it was Lily Houghton.

"I mean… I haven't been a part of any society in some time now, but based on that description, it seems a bit archaic." Lily's hand returns to his leg, but this time in appreciation, and with no other pretense for causing trouble. Frank laces his fingers with hers, anchoring himself to her.

"It's clear that you two," he passes a rotund finger back and forth between Lily and Frank, "are…together. It just seems like such an odd pairing, considering that the man in the relationship has no prospects for job, and the woman is …doing what exactly?" He asks disparagingly.

With his free hand, Frank lifts his wineglass to his lips and lets the fullness of the burgundy distract him from wanting to throw Mr. Gable overboard. Frank feels Lily's fingers contract in his hand, and he tightens his hold on her.

"Lily's going to teach at Cambridge." Frank offers, glancing warmly in Lily's direction.

Frank would sooner give a positive spin on things than resort to violence, but based on Lily's body language, it may be that she is not ruling it out.

Mr. Gable's eyebrows draw together. "How interesting."

Maggie's intake of breath is heard from across the table. "That is just lovely, dear! Good for you!"

Lily smiles appreciatively back at her, grateful for the supportive words from a fellow woman. "Thank you, Maggie."

Mrs. Gable tilts her head as if trying see through Lily, who stares back just as ardently. Her gaze shifts to Frank with a wicked smirk upon her lips. "And what will you do while she is wrapped up in the classroom, Mr. Wolff?"

Frank shrugs, "I mean, there is a whole world to explore…" His voice trails off as his uncertainty about what the future holds returns to his mind. "I'm sure there's enough out there to keep me busy, wherever I may be."

Lily turns her attention back to the man at her side, his words causing a tidal wave of new thoughts in her already frazzled brain. Wherever I may be? While true that she would be preoccupied with certain responsibilities, she had assumed that there will be ample opportunities later to help Frank explore the world around him. She realizes now how naive that sounds — thinking he would wait for her; need her to be the one holding his hand as he steps back into society.

He's a grown man, he can do this on his own. The tiny voice inside her head argues, causing her body to tremble lightly with the insecurities she thought she'd laid to rest.

Seeds of doubt begin to blossom in her mind, and then suddenly, as if reading her mind, Maggie offers up a question who's answer could either ease her fears or amplify them. "And will the Houghton's be joining you?"She asks, hopefulness in her voice.

Frank contemplates her question. He never considered the fact that he would be traveling alone. He just as well assumed that Lily would be there with him, wherever and whenever she could. The reality of her profession and her responsibilities become apparent, and he suddenly feels distressed at the thought of his needs holding her back; distracting her from the things she's worked so hard to accomplish before she stepped foot in the Amazon and onto his boat.

He's about to respond, with words he'd not yet decided on, when Mrs. Gable intercepts his train of thought.

"Well, seeing as how Ms. Houghton here is going to be confined to a classroom for the majority of her days, I'd say you should be out there on your own."

Frank shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He looks over to Lily, trying to see her eyes, but they are downcast, focused on the center of the table. He can tell she is dealing with an inner turmoil of her own, but since he is unable to determine what from, he says the first thing that comes to mind.

"I don't know. I'd prefer to have some company." He remarked calmly, much to his own surprise.

"The world is quite different than Brazil, Mr. Wolff. It can be quite dangerous out there." Mrs. Gable offers. It's clear that she's only ever seen the world from the safety of a tourist boat, so he doesn't take her words to heart. He's pretty sure he can handle whatever this modern world has to throw at him.

"I'm not too worried about me. I think I can handle it." Frank replies confidently.

Mr. Gable laughs contemptuously. "Probably best Ms. Houghton is confined to the classroom then wouldn't you say? Keep her out of trouble! Wouldn't you agree Mr. Wolff?"

Frank, distracted by the waiter bringing coffee to the table, grunts a reply. "Huh? Oh, well, anything that keeps Lily out of trouble, I'm all for."

Lily's head snaps towards him so quickly, he's sure he heard her neck crack. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Eyes wide and feeling the heat of her stare, he looks back at her, unsure how his words caused her to get riled up so quickly. "What? Oh, well, I'm just saying that I wouldn't want to see you getting yourself into any more life-threatening dilemmas, thats all."

"And that would be up to you then?" Her head tilts to the side, her brow furrowed.

Concerned only about her safety, Frank sidesteps the meaning of the question, and nods his head. "I mean, if I can keep you out of harms way, then yes."

Lily's shoulder tense immediately, and Frank swallows as her eyes narrow at him. She pulls her hand out from under his on the table and back to her lap.

Nervous, Frank begins to backpedal. "I mean, no. I mean…"

Looks at MacGregor for help, who promptly shakes his head. "Don't look at me," he murmurs.

Frank looks to the wide eyes of the rest of the table's occupants and then back to Lily, whose angry stare has only gotten more heated. He feels the sweat begin to prickle on his neck and he starts to get angry with the attention being on him like it is. "I'm just saying— that it's probably a good thing that you have something stable, and safe like teaching - to keep you focused on what's important." His voice rises, and he tries his best to sound resolute and firm about his stance, but its clear his message is not well received.

"And that's being a wife?"

"No! I mean if that's what you want. I'm just talking about your job and doing what it is you're supposed to do." Panic begins to set in now, and Frank feels he is being tossed around violently as if her were going through the rapids once again.

"Supposed to do. I see…" Her head nods up and down at an unnaturally slow pace, making it clear she is not happy. Lily's heart is pounding in her chest at Frank's suddenly cavalier attitude, and it's beginning to make her head spin.

Mr. Gable shakes his head, forebodingly "I must say, it sounds like you two may have a little less in common than you thought." His words sting like a burn, and Frank and Lily are both taken aback by them.

Lily stands up abruptly, her chair skidding across the carpet. "If you'll excuse me, I think I've had quite enough fun for one evening." Her voice shakes, but her jaw is set as she nods curtly at the table, and turns to leave.

"Back to those lesson plans, eh, Ms. Houghton?" Mr. Gable laughs sarcastically at her turned back.

Lily whirls around and tosses her napkin on the table brusquely, "… it's Doctor Houghton." She snaps.

Giving Frank one last cross look, she turns on her heel and storms away from the table and out of the dining room.

MacGregor tosses his napkin on the table and glares at Frank. "Well, now you've gone and done it…again."

xxx

"Lily! Would you please just stop?" Frank picks up his stride as he tries to keep pace with Lily who is nearly to the first-class parlor. Being dinnertime, the room is somewhat empty albeit for a few crew members stocking glassware and preparing for the after-dinner cocktail hour, who are now watching a very sizable man trail after a very upset woman. How she is able to outpace him while wearing flimsy shoes and a dress makes him wonder if he's truly prepared to face her once he does catch up to her.

Lily pulls her key from the pocket of her dress and shoves it roughly into the lock of her door. All she wants at this moment is the solace of her room and away from the infuriating man following her.

Her momentum combined with the adrenaline of the argument cause her to use a bit too much force than necessary, and as she turns the key, she hears a strange sound, and her hand stops mid-turn.

"Damn thing…" She groans, and wiggles the tiny key forcefully. She can feel Frank staring at her from behind, causing the irritation in her blood to inch higher. She glances at him from the corner of her eye, and from the look on his face, she gets the feeling he's not going anywhere.

She feels his arm brush against her and his large hand covers hers. "Here, let me — " She uses her shoulder to shove him bodily out of the way before he can get a grip on the key in her hand.

"Don't!" She warns.

"Really? You're gonna act like this?" Frank throws his hands up in frustration, and she turns to face him fully, eyes fiery. He swallows at the look, but crosses his arms in preparation for whatever she's about to unload on him.

"Oh? Like what Frank? Like someone who doesn't need your help? Someone that doesn't need you to rescue them? Don't worry, Skippy…no damsels in distress here." She turns back around angrily, and tries to pull the key out from where it is firmly planted, to no avail.

She lifts her leg and jams her hip into the door once more with a thud, and it still doesn't budge.

"Lily, would you please just let me help — " Frank reaches for the key once more, and when she moves to block him, he lets her momentum carry her under his arms and to the other side of the doorframe. His hand lands on hers, trying to wrestle her grip away so he can attempt to dislodge the stuck key. Lily huffs angrily and just as she feels his hand on hers, she presses her body back against his, pushing him off balance. He feels himself stumble and as he does, he grabs for the key one last time.

SNAP!

Lily's eyes widen in horror at the half of a key she now holds in her hands whereas the other half is now permanently lodged in the lock. She turns her rage back onto Frank. "Look what you just did!"

"Me? If you would just calm down, then — "

Anger flowed out of her like hot lava."No, Frank I'm not going to just calm down."

"Why are you so upset? Is it because I said I wanted to keep you out of trouble?"

"Frank, really — You, of all people, should know by now that I don't take well to people telling me what I should and should not do."

"That's not what I was doing."

"Oh, really? Because that's what it sounded like to me."

Frank's mind is swimming, trying desperately to keep his head above the water of a rapidly sinking ship. "Lily, what I meant was —that you —I mean…" Her piercing blue eyes feel like sharp daggers in his chest, and all of a sudden, all of his words seem wrong.

Lily's chest is heaving, her breath uneven as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. "You should know by now how frustrating and difficult it has been for me to gain the respect of those who barely take me seriously in my field. Your comments hurt."

Frank's shoulders sag. "I know — and I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to make light of your accomplishments or you. I was just saying — "

Lily cuts him off, uninterested in what he has to say. "I think you've said enough for one night, Frank. I just want to be by myself."

He slaps his hands back to his sides in frustration. He was beginning to lose patience with being told when and when not to speak his mind. He's lived four hundred years, and never has he ever experienced the turmoil of emotions that this woman has already put him through in little under a month of knowing her.

"Fine, then retreat into your room, run away." He fumes, irritation apparent in his voice.

Lily doesn't back down, and raises her voice to match his. "Well, I would, but someone broke my key and I can't get the damn door to — "

Anger bubbling over, he decides to take out his frustration by other means, and before she can finish her sentence, he moves bodily past her, causing her stagger to the side and out of his way as he unceremoniously rams his shoulder into the door, the sound of wood splintering resonating in the small hallway.

Lily's heart is pounding in her chest as Frank now stands in the entryway of her cabin, his hand still on the door handle as if he too is shocked by his actions.

He backs away abruptly, breathing hard, and motions to the door angrily. "There you go, Pants. Anything else I can fix for you? Don't hesitate to ask, after all, you plucked me right out of the Amazon, I owe you." The sarcasm in his voice strikes a chord within her and she feels her irritation give rise to bitterness.

She winds up her hand and shoves a finger in his face. "You may be four hundred years old, Frank, but you still haven't a clue how to care about other's feelings —" She feels the sting of tears threatening, and she grits her teeth, unwilling to let them fall.

Her words are biting and are filled with the same anger she carried with her atop the Puka Machuna tribe, nearly two weeks ago when she unloaded on him then. He tries to speak, respond with something to stop this storm unfolding between them, but when she narrows her eyes at him, her blue crisis blazing like fire, he flinches, as if feeling the sting of her palm across his face.

Regret fills his heart, and he is acutely aware of how hurtful his words were a moment ago.

He softens his jaw and tries to reach out for her again, but she steps away from him and crosses her arms, and he feels his heart plummet in his chest. He drops his hand to his side and looks down at the floor before back to her.

He breathes out slowly, taking his time to find his words. "Lily…" His voice is calm which is surprising considering the fact that his body is shaking with adrenaline. His eyes focus in on hers again, trying to reconnect with the part of her mind that used to listen to him. "…You can't think after all we've been through these past few weeks, that even for a moment, I don't respect you or who you are."

Lily swallows hard, taken aback by the seriousness of his words. She immediately regrets her tone with him, but still feels her anger burn, and she can't decide how to respond without a scornful remark. Right now, all she wants is away from Frank and into the safety of her own room so she can dissect what's happening to her emotions.

She takes a step backwards, towards her door. "I don't know Frank," her voice is quiet and the somber look in her eyes scares him in a way he can't describe, "…maybe we don't know each other as well as we thought." She replies despondently, and a moment later she's gone —inside of her room, the sound of a chair being shoved up against the broken door to keep it shut.

Frank stares at the bronze numbers across the wooden facade of her door. His ears are ringing from the sudden silence that surrounds him and he feels as if he is floating outside of his body, unable to accept the reality of his current situation. His mind tells him to retreat into his cabin, find solace in the darkness, but he is firmly planted in place, unable to move.

He feels defeated as he wipes his sweaty palms across the soft material of his pants. He blinks and turns around slowly to unlock his door. With a click, his door swings open and as he stands at the entryway, staring into the dark, empty room, he swallows thickly, feeling for the first time, in a very long time, heartbroken.

xxxx