If anyone was wondering, or guessing, this fic may possibly go James/Marie-Claire. I've thought about it, and I like the idea. Thanks to P.I.D. (my first fan!) and StardustPixie, because you both make me feel good about this story. I am also adding something new: both James and Sarah have journals, and maybe Marie-Claire will have one, too. Now, without further ado, here:

"Well, who is she? Where did she come from? Does she have any brothers or sisters?" Henri was attacking James with so many questions and he had not yet got to the bottom of the stairs.

"Slow down, Henri!" James put his hand up, "One question at a time!"

"James, we're both eager to learn what you've found out about our mysterious guest." Sarah said, crossing her arms.

"Well, for one thing, her name's Marie-Claire. She used to live in London, up until she was 10. Then she came to America. She had a younger brother. That's all I know." James said quickly.

"James, you are not telling us everything!" Henri protested.

"I am being honest," James replied, "She didn't tell me much. I think she's just a little confused about being in the water and everything."

Sarah frowned a bit, but nodded like she understood.

Henri looked disappointed.

"Oh, Henri, she did say you were adorable." James said with a smirk before going upstairs again.

Henri turned pink, "You were right, Sarah. She is strange."

Sarah turned pink as well, "Shh! Henri!"

James was careful as he went into his room not to wake the sleeping girl. He grabbed his journal, a quill and some ink, and closed the door.

He settled himself down, putting a piece of wood on his lap below the page, and began to write:

We came back today. While I was gazing out at sea, I heard the crew run to the other side of the ship. I went over to Sarah to see what had happened.

James continued to write the entire account of Marie-Claire's rescue.

I feel really bad about asking her some of the questions I did. I shouldn't pry like I did. I fear that I frightened her, or worse, made her remember certain events in her life she wants to forget. Although I don't know what they are, I have a feeling that they're painful. I can relate.

James sighed, remembering the house fire and living on the street. He thought about how lucky he was to be living in the print shop, and to have good friends like Dr. Franklin, Moses, Sarah and Henri.

I just want to know more about Marie-Claire. So that I can help her, and stop her from looking so weak. I don't know why I care so much, but I do.

James closed his journal. Why did he care so much? What was it about this girl that made her so mesmerizing? And why, James wondered most of all, did she seem to be reading his thoughts when she spoke to him?

These questions remained unanswered, but James told himself he would find them. That is a reporter's job, after all.