Birthdays, Ships and Friendships

by Tabitha12

By Mary and Amanda. The Captain's birthday is fast approaching, and the crew is making plans. But will they be thwarted by a certain ghost ship? Takes place in the From This Day On Universe.

Authors' Note — Daniel, Carolyn, and any persons, places, or things that appeared in the television show belong to Twentieth Century Fox and/or RA Dick (aka: Josephine Leslie), and the powers that be. The other characters originated and have been brought to life Amanda and myself, under various names. No infringement or harm is meant. 'Nuff said.

This story takes place after "Jenny's Surprise, and after the dance Tris and Candy go to in "I Won't say Goodbye.

Happy Birthday to the late, great, Edward Mulhare. (Captain Daniel Gregg) Born April 8, 1923 - May 24, 1997. Rest in peace, dear Edward. We miss you!

Birthdays, Ships, and Friendships

Mary and Amanda

March 1977

"Let the annual 'how do we surprise Captain Gregg for his birthday' meeting, begin," Carolyn Muir announced, as her family and closest friends assembled in the living room of Gull Cottage. They could have this meeting because the ghostly 'guru' who had taught Daniel how to use his powers to achieve a greater degree of stable tangibility had offered to keep him distracted for a few hours.

Martha Grant Peavey shook her head. "Even after all these years, I still don't have a clue about how to do it. Then and again, MEN in general are not easy to get gifts for." She glared at the males of the species who were sitting and standing around the room. "Living or dead."

"We prefer, oh, something like — living-challenged," Lord Dashire commented.

"She does have a point, to an extent. Mother never could decide what to get you for Christmas," Adam Pierce reminded his employer. "Of course, she wasn't concerned about your ghost status, as she did not know it, or your maleness, but your title was somewhat — daunting to her."

"Sean," Carolyn cut in, trying to refocus things. "You have known Daniel longer than any of us. Do you have any ideas?"

The Irish ghost shrugged. "Carrie, I don't know what to tell you. He's outgrown what he enjoyed when we were children, and has little need for most other things, which is why this is a large problem now." He looked around the room. "You've already given him a grand gift, don't you know? Yourself, the children, excuse me, the young adults..." He paused to roll his eyes in amusement. "The friendships with Martha and Adam — you even got his breakfront and chart rack back home, and fixed up his wheelhouse in a grand fashion."

"Sean, I gave away the things to begin with," Carolyn insisted.

"And we still want to do something for him NOW, Uncle Sean," Candy said. "That was ages ago."

"Yeah," Jonathan sighed in agreement. "Ages."

"I should have waited on the painting I did for Valentine's," Jenny Williams frowned. "That would have been a good present, though it wouldn't have solved but a little of the problem."

Dashire spoke up again. "I've given him the same thing for the past few decades, Madeira, and he's loved it, even though it's not a surprise."

From his seat between the two girls, Tristan Matthews dissented, "Your Lordship, there's nigh on a dozen potential gift-givers involved here. Our good Captain is not a lush. He can only love Madeira so much, after all."

"The lad has a point," Sean agreed. "Carolyn, what Danny cares for most is his family and the sea — you've provided him with that family. I don't see how you could get him the sea. Besides, I think, though he'd not admit it, he likes being home with you all better than sailing."

"I second that," Dashire nodded. "He's happier than I can ever recall seeing him."

"I'm working on something — if I can get it finished in time," said Martha. "I'm not sure yet."

"What is it?" Candy asked. "Jon and I think we've got it covered, but like you said, we aren't sure, yet."

"I'm not saying in case if falls through," Martha shook her head. "But needless to say, Mrs. Muir, I will cook the birthday dinner."

"Thank you," Carolyn smiled. "I am learning, but I'm still no expert, and we need an expert's touch, and that's you... but as to a present for Daniel, I can't afford a ship, or a cruise," she continued. "Even if we all pooled pennies, it wouldn't be nearly enough."

"I can't see Captain Gregg being a passenger on a cruise ship in any case," Adam said. "He'd be up front, telling the skipper how to run things. Perhaps a day rental of a small sailboat?"

"He really hated Mr. Thompson's yacht," Jonathan pointed out.

"Or just the owner," Martha said dryly. "After his last visit, I'm not overly fond of the guy myself."

"I second that," Tristan said. "Though, it was tremendously amusing to run him off." A look of blissful nostalgia crossed his face.

"Don't remind me. My poor ears are still ringing from his midnight serenade," Sean grimaced.

"It'd be nice to have his fortune," Carolyn said. "But, the only way to get it is unacceptable, and rather defeats the purpose."

"Unless you could make yourself his legal heir and—" Dashire mused.

"Don't say it, not in front of me," Adam protested. "What did I tell you all? No discussions of potential murder, basement burials, etcetera in my presence."

"Besides, why would he make Mrs. Muir his heir unless they were married?" Martha asked.

"Let's table that idea, permanently," Carolyn instructed firmly.

"I've seen build-a-boat kits," Candy said. "I was gonna try that one year, but the plans alone were out of my budget, not counting the materials. But, maybe all of us..."

"Great idea, sweetie, but there's not enough time for that," her mother said. "Another model ship, perhaps?" Even as she said it, the idea was not too pleasing.

"Shame we can't find another ghost ship, one that doesn't hurt the Captain and — you know — just shows up when you want it to," Jonathan said. "Not the Sea Vulture, but another one."

"Could the Sea Vulture be — uncursed?" Candy asked.

"Let's not talk about that — monstrosity too much," Tristan pleaded, silencing any questions from those who didn't know what the Sea Vulture might be about.

"I think unhexing only happens in books," Adam said.

"So do ghosts," Jenny smiled.

"Right!" Candy said. "Only, the ghosts in books aren't even a little bit as cool as our ghosts."

"Do they make house wing kits?" Martha asked rhetorically. "We'll need a couple for the egos I feel swelling around me."

"Are there other ghost ships, ones that come sans a curse?" Carolyn asked.

The three spirits frowned, trying to remember if they knew of any.

"Even if there is one," Sean finally said, "I amna sure that mortals could board her, and I'm certain that Danny would want you lot to see him captaining."

"It would be better than nothing," Adam said. "And we do not know that mortals could not board. We might be able to. However, it IS more likely that we could find an ordinary vessel." Seeing the look on Mrs. Muir's face, he added, "I didn't say we could pay for one, just find it."

"Unless we take up piracy..." Martha started to say, until the lawyer held up a hand.

"Ah-ah-ah," he tisked. "Don't plan ANY crimes in front of me; that way, I can defend you."

"Besides, don't pirates already have their own boats?" Jonathan piped up. "So, if we were pirates, we'd have what we were being pirates for and wouldn't need to do what they do."

"Well, we can't expect Fontenot to keep Daniel occupied forever," his mother said. "I love the idea of a boat, ship, or some sort of sailing vessel, but I can't see any way to pull it off. What's Plan B?"

"Good question," Martha frowned. "What would a perfect day be for the Captain?"

"Getting to keelhaul Claymore!" Jonathan exclaimed. "And run him up the mizzenmast."

"I think his idea of perfection might have become gentler, of late," Sean advised with a smile.

Jonathan made a face, but Dash agreed with his old friend. "Jon, gentleness is the greatest form of strength. To be powerful, yet restrain that force takes more fortitude than to unleash it."

"You mean mushy stuff," the boy rolled his eyes. "There's gotta be more to the party than that."

Turning bright red, Carolyn assured him, "There will be, IF we can get a workable idea. Sean, Dash, Tristan, if we were planning a party for you, what would you want?"

"Nothing that is attainable," Sean very softly replied, sparking a look of curiosity from Mrs. Muir.

Before she could follow up on it, Dash interceded, "That's an excellent question. You know, Tristan's birthday is — what? Less than a week after our Captain's?"

The younger ghost sent him a murderous glare. "Like Captain Gregg, I'm quite content with my situation in life." His gaze swept the room. For a second, his eyes rested on Candy, and then he went on. "Friends who are better than family, cool powers, and no pigs with which to deal. Or any livestock, unless we count Scruffy."

"Pigs?" Adam asked, cocking an eyebrow. "I was unaware that a seaman's duties included anything having to do with pigs, unless... did you ever serve on a ship that carried livestock?"

"No, and I would have jumped ship before tending pigs," Tris responded briefly. "It is not a subject I care to discuss at this moment, or any other time. We were talking about the Captain's birthday."

"Suit yourself," the lawyer shrugged. "You mentioned them, not I."

"I might tell you, one of these days," Tris dodged.

"So, what do we do? Tie a ribbon around ourselves?" Jenny asked, angling them back on subject.

"I think, boring and unoriginal as it might be, all we can do, is go with what has worked," Carolyn exhaled. "A nice dinner with all of us here, Madeira," she gave Dash a slight grin, "and small presents from the heart."

"Perhaps it has been done before," Dash smirked, "but, could anything with this crew be boring?"

"So, what kind of gifts are — appropriate?" Jenny asked. This was her first year to experience the planning process for the Captain's birthday. "Besides Madeira, that is."

"Cigars, pipe tobacco," Sean suggested. "Since smoke does not affect his health."

"The right books," Candy added. "Not the one Claymore gave him once. How to Win Friends and Influence People."

"Claymore could use a copy of that himself," Tristan snorted.

"I'll plan a menu," Martha said. "His aunt's recipes are sometimes hard to decipher, but I've had good luck with them. Still can't get those biscuits to come out right."

Her boss made a face, remembering her one, futile effort at making those. "Model ships are good," she said.

"Aye, Danny likes to collect dust catchers of all kinds," Sean nodded. "When we cleaned the wheelhouse, I was in complete awe of the assortment, and that was after Claymore's ancestors raided his treasures."

"And, there is the principle, it is the thought that counts," Adam mentioned. "Whatever we manage, he will know that, I'm sure."

"Okay, so, the boat idea is officially off the table?" Carolyn asked, admitting defeat as she did so. "At least, for now, that is."

"Barring a miracle," Martha agreed.

April 1, 1977

"Tristan, since you like to float around like a bat," Martha said. "Be useful with your hobby and dust the chandelier in the formal dining room, please. And while you're up there, dust the ceiling. There's a few cobwebs out of my reach."

"Aye, aye, Admiral," he bowed. Since Tris had never ranked very highly on either Captain Gregg's ship or the one whose captain had been a dunderhead that sent him up the mast during a storm and gotten the boy killed, doing women's work didn't bother him much. Lowly seamen had it to do, after all.

With a nod, the housekeeper went to the kitchen. Mrs. Muir was upstairs working on an article with the Captain, Jenny was completing an art project for college, Jonathan was locked in his room working on a model ship, and Candy had homework. Sean and Dash had come to visit their oldest friend, but finding him occupied, had volunteered to help Martha in any way she needed. Hence, they were out back doing yard work.

A few minutes later, a yelp and crashing sound had Scruffy barking and Candy running toward the dining room with Martha and Jenny close behind. From upstairs, a loud "BLAST" echoed.

Candy found Tristan lying on the long table, moaning softly. "What happened?" The girl reached out to try and help him get up.

"I had just finished dusting and landed on the table, when — I felt — dizzy and — fainted, I think," he shook his head. "I'd just resolidified, and wham! It was a most peculiar sensation — like — a dream I used to have. Only I would wake up before hitting ground then."

"Or like Samson after his haircut?" Daniel's voice intoned from the door. He was slightly behind Mrs. Muir, having walked down after her instead of popping. "The Sea Vulture just blew into port."

"So, are you solid?" Jon asked, coming to a halt.

"No. I'm quite — insubstantial," the ghost sighed. "I was in ethereal form when the blasted thing arrived."

"Danny, are you..?" Sean and Dashire burst in from the kitchen, Sean in the lead. "We were outside and..."

"And you suddenly felt weak, and now you are powerless?" Daniel growled. "Yes," he nodded. "I thought we may have lucked out this go-round. That blasted Dutchman was due last September, more or less, but he is most assuredly back now!"

Dashire's jaw tensed. The words he wanted to say should not be spoken around women and young ones. Tightly, he said, "I don't particularly mind being tangible, I rather LIKE it, but I like having the option to — not be."

"Right." Tristan winced. "I'd forgotten how much I hate pain. Your table is very — substantial, sir. Quite well made. I commend the carpenter."

"Do we need to take you to a doctor?" Carolyn fretted. "Daniel, can you —?"

"I'm as ghostly as they are un-ghostly," he replied grimly. "And none of us has any power, or not much anyway."

"I don't understand," Carolyn blurted out. "Daniel, you aren't... you can't..." Slowly she reached out to grasp his hand, his shoulder, anything, but her hand met nothing but air. A cold shiver went through her. "Why... why are you intangible again?" She gestured toward a very solid-looking Tristan. "He's not."

"I was conserving energy when that benighted scow entered the waters," the Captain explained. "And so, I was intangible. Apparently he..." Daniel nodded in Tristan's direction, "...had just taken on solid form, barely it sounds like, and is therefore unable to revert back to his natural form. Or if he could, he might not be able to shift back to solid."

"The shock threw me off balance," Tristan agreed.

Candy reached out to touch his head. "If you had been floating, would you have fallen off the ceiling?"

"No, I don't think so. Just — not able to be solid now."

Carolyn turned to Sean O'Casey and Lord Dashire.

"And you?" she queried. "You said you feel... weak, like Daniel. Are you powerless also?"

"Aye," Sean nodded. "Powerless, but..."

"...Quite tangible, fair lady," Dash finished. "And..." He removed his jacket. "...suddenly quite uncomfortable in that blasted thing."

Suddenly, he frowned, and crossed as hastily as his slightly wobbly legs would allow to a mirror. Once there, he peered in, then let out a sigh of relief.

"I told ye that ye're face was still as whatever you call it as always," Sean groused. "I think we've more worries than that."

"Fine for you to say. You were a fairly young man when you kicked off. I was seventy, and the thought of reverting to that was horrifying. I feel as rotten as I did when I died, almost."

"How long will this last?" Jenny asked, trying to head off a potential spat.

"Until the celestial winds blow the cursed thing back out to sea," Daniel recited. "Fortunately, it only has leave to afflict the ghosts of seamen for one year out of seven."

"You mean you all will stay like this for a YEAR?" Jenny gasped.

"Nay, lass," Sean shook his head. "The vulture only lands once every seven years and wreaks havoc on all spirits of seamen, such as ourselves. The time we spend powerless... varies."

"Oh," Jenny nodded. "Okay. But why does this bird do this to you? I mean I have heard of an albatross being bad luck to seamen, but not a vulture. You have all kinda mentioned it before, but always shut up immediately and say "don't ask." I think it's time to ask."

"It all started about two hundred years ago..." Daniel began, but Tris, still on the table, objected.

"Far be it from me, sir, but I am somewhat recovered, and really don't like being laid out on this table like a Sunday feast. May I suggest we move into the living room before continuing this tale?"

"That's a good idea," Martha nodded briskly. "I'd like a little catching up, too — last time this happened, I didn't know anything about it, other than, now that I think about it, a few extra creaks and groans during that PTA meeting you held here, Mrs. Muir, if I remember rightly."

Carolyn, looking somewhat abashed, snuck a glance at Daniel. "Well, ah— "

"I had some objections to having the overstuffed ladies clutter up my ship," he explained.

"And, I sort of took advantage of things," Carolyn admitted.

As the Captain and his lady explained, Tristan scrambled off the table. Once his feet were on the ground, he let Candy 'help' him walk out of the room while Jenny hovered nearby.

"...Therefore, when they invaded, I was trying to exercise my powers to run them out of the house, screaming," Daniel could not help but grin slightly. "I was not overly successful. I believe all I managed was to get the monkeys in the boys' shower."

"No PTA ladies are due here this year," Carolyn hastily assured him. "I promise. No fingers crossed either."

"Fingers crossed?" Daniel asked, puzzled.

"I'll explain a bit more, later," Carolyn answered, turning pink again.

"Monkeys? First pigs, now monkeys?" Martha muttered, and then realized she had nearly slipped. Fortunately, Daniel was too disconcerted to take notice.

"I don't understand," Jenny shook her head as they reached the living room in a group and sat down. "Why is there a vulture mad at you?"

"It's not a real bird..." Jon started to say, but Carolyn held up a hand to stop him. "I just remembered. Adam is coming to supper in a little while. Dash, have you ever told him the story? If not, we might as well wait and just tell the whole thing once."

"I think you will understand, my good woman, that we, the potentially afflicted, endeavor not to think of the thing in off-years. Adam was not yet in on the secret when it last caused me grief."

"Understood," Carolyn nodded. "Last time, well, it was before Daniel and I..." she blushed. "...We really didn't have an understanding yet, and I jumped the gun on a few issues." She nodded and Jenny. "I think we all need a refresher-course on this subject, and Adam does need to know, especially now, with more people involved." She looked at her watch. "He should be here in an hour or so. Sean... Dash... you ... I take it you are finished with the yard, for today, needless to say. Do you... Uhm... if you are solid, would you like to freshen up before dinner?"

Sean's sigh was heartfelt. "Thank-you, Carrie. That sounds marvelous."

"I'll get you an ice bag, Tristan," Carolyn went on. "And some aspirin." Stepping closer, she peered into his eyes. "I don't think you have a concussion."

He managed a slight grin. "Landing on my head's the safest spot for my health. I would make sure that the table is not dented, however."

"You're too hard on yourself," Candy scolded.

"Just keeping things light," Tris shrugged. "Something tells me this time we're in for a siege."

"I'll get the heating pad, too. Falling on your back like that will make you sore," Martha frowned.

"Is there anything we can do to — help you, Daniel?" Carolyn asked hesitantly.

The spirit shook his head. "In this form, I am quite without physical needs, my dear."

"Not quite all of them, If I remember rightly," Carolyn said softly, loud enough for only him to hear. "If not physically, emotionally, perhaps." She gave him a helpless look. "And that doesn't count how I am feeling at the moment." Hesitantly, she tried to touch him once more, but again, her hand went straight through his. "Just checking. Blast."

"Aye," he answered back. "And I could think of a much stronger oath if there weren't young ones and ladies nearby. If this goes on long, I may yet, regardless."

"Say one for me, too," she grimly asked.

"My dear!"

"I'm a liberated woman," she grimaced. "Just trying to make light of the situation, to echo Tris." She paused and gave him another look. "Well, if Adam is due here in an hour, I suppose I should finish up a few things upstairs. Can you join me, Daniel?"

"I am still quite capable of..." he started, but she cut him off.

"Just a figure of speech. I remember what you are capable of, even when the Dutchman is in port. I meant if you didn't have anything else you needed to do first. Talk to your crew?"

"Later."

"Good."

XXX

The next hour, more or less, elapsed in that curious form of time that manages to creep along and speed up simultaneously. Fortunately, Adam tended to arrive early, unless it was a morning appointment.

The lawyer knew something was wrong the moment he entered the house, though he couldn't put his finger on what it was. Adam, being Adam, however, was not a man to mince words. His coat was still sliding over his arms when he looked around at the whole clan who had gathered to greet him.

"All right, family — what's wrong? And please... it's been a long week. DON'T tell me you found another skeleton in the cellar!"

"Wrong?" Jenny echoed. "How did you know so fast?"

"One, Carolyn looks worried; two, I'm surprised I didn't get drenched coming in from the dark expression on Daniel's face; three, Dash, Sean, and Tris look like they missed the last cookie and Martha refuses to make more; four, you all have this — aura of gloom. Five, if I had any doubts, you, my dear, just confirmed the notion that there is something wrong."

"Smart," Daniel nodded. "I knew we were right retaining you."

"I retained his family, YEARS ago," Dash protested.

"You'd better come in and sit down," Carolyn interrupted the pending discussion. "We have some rather interesting news."

"You HAVEN'T found another skeleton, have you?" Adam queried. "I don't think the town will understand another one, even with a letter."

"No skeleton, just a vulture hovering," Jon muttered.

"A vulture hovering over a skeleton?"

"No — weighing anchor in the bay."

"I think I'd BETTER sit down."

When they were all seated, Jenny and Martha finally got to hear the full story that they had been waiting on for the last hour.

"More than two hundred years ago," Daniel said heavily, "there was a quite insane captain, known at the Dutchman, who was obsessed with finding a lost continent..."

"Atlantis?" Jenny blurted out.

"I have no idea. Possibly," the Captain shrugged.

"Sorry."

"Quite all right, my dear. His crew was less enthused with the quest and plotted his murder. One night, the rogues assembled and went to do the deed. The Dutchman woke and cursed them and all seamen, and vanished into thin air. All that remained of him was an evil echo. His crew abandoned ship, the Sea Vulture, it was called. Since then, the ship has roamed the seas. Every seven years, it appears again, and where it does, the ghosts of all seamen in that port are rendered — virtually powerless until the celestial winds send it back to sea."

Adam listened intently to the ghost. "So, there's no way to — break this curse?" How odd, just the other day, he had dismissed the notion as something for books, now he was looking for a way to do it.

"No," Dash confirmed. "So make sure my door is bolted."

Adam's eyebrows went up again.

"You aren't afraid of anyone here, are you? Could anyone you know — now, I mean, cause you harm, Lord Dashire?"

"No — the door to my house! Last time this happened, my blasted relatives got inside, realized immediately that I was powerless, or nearly so and absconded with a number of treasured possessions, including my portrait!"

Everyone's eyes went to the painting of Daniel Gregg over the fireplace. "Aye," Dash continued. "Same artist. I understand his works are quite collectable, if you know whom to ask. Don't let Clay find that out, Danny. You could do nothing to stop him."

"No, but WE could!" Candy, Jon and Jenny all said together.

"Me, too," Martha added. "I know I used to call the man in that painting an ogre, but I've grown rather fond of it in the last ten years. Gull Cottage wouldn't be the same without it hanging up there over the fireplace."

"Don't worry, Martha," Sean said. "Dash, Tris, and I might feel sort of weird, but we can interfere in any schemes old Clay concocts."

"And this can't last forever," Tristan added. "He does not EVEN want to contemplate payback should he try it."

"Last time he tried, the Captain flew him down the stairs, all the way through the yard and tossed him in his car!" Candy giggled at the memory.

"I knew I saw him do that, but I didn't know YOU TWO did!" Carolyn interjected. "I thought you two were... doing homework or something."

"We saw him toss Claymore out from the widow's-walk," Candy smiled again as she watched her mother shake her head. "We had a great view of the whole thing!"

"What have the effects of the Vulture been thus far?" Adam asked, tapping his fingers against his knee.

"Sean, the boy, and I are trapped in a solid state," Dashire answered. "And, Danny is stuck in spirit form."

"Is there any particular reason for the difference?" Adam asked, frowning. "Rank or something?"

"No," Daniel replied. "We are locked into whatever phase we were in the time of its arrival."

The lawyer nodded. "Any ghost is affected, or just — nautical ones in Schooner Bay?"

"Just the ghosts of seamen in the port where the Vulture is," Sean told him. "What other ghosts are there in Schooner Bay that aren't nautical? I don't know of any, Adam. Who are they? Male or... female spirits?" Suddenly a more animated look appeared on his face. "Where are they?"

"Calm," the lawyer answered. "I'm merely trying to make sure all known points are covered. I don't know of any other ghosts — here or Skeldale, for that matter. Never know where your guru is."

"Oh..." Sean answered. "Sorry."

Adam drummed his fingers again. "Can you get hold of Fontenot? I don't think he's a seaman, and maybe he could suggest some way to — alleviate things?" Adam essayed, trying to find a solution. "Or, could I load all four of you in the car and take you to Dash's house? Camp out there until the celestial breezes do their thing?"

"I like that!" Dash said, looking a touch affronted. "You are volunteering my house, Adam? I thought I only had to worry about my blasted relatives intruding there."

"Lord Dashire..." The lawyer's tone was suddenly sounding a bit on the 'professional' side. "I was only offering a suggestion. These people are friends of yours, not relatives. Would they be intruding?"

"I don't think you guys going to Skeldale is such a good idea," Jenny interjected, quietly.

Everyone turned to look at her.

"Why not?" Jon blurted out.

"What if—?" the girl turned red as all eyes focused on her. "— What if — leaving puts them in some kind of — limbo state?"

Adam shook his head. "I'm not quite sure I follow."

"Well, it's just that..." Jenny began. "...I don't know, but since I found out about you guys, I've been doing a lot of reading. There are all sorts of theories about ghosts — lots more than Sean Callahan could dream up. Are they anchored to one haunting location, a few people that give reasons for ghosts becoming tangible, including the Velveteen Rabbit theory, which I really like, but there are other writers that focus more on how to fight ghosts, and exorcize them and such — I'm getting off the subject. It's just that you said the Dutchman has thrown you into this state... Solid not ethereal, or Uncle Daniel, you are ethereal and can't become solid... but the ship affects you all because you are HERE in Schooner Bay. Sean, Dash, Tris — if you leave, while in an enchanted state, if you can leave — if you aren't stopped by a... force field, or something, wouldn't it be possible that if the Dutchman sets sail when you AREN'T in Schooner Bay that you will miss the boat, and not become un-enchanted? You could remain solid, and powerless and ageless, forever."

The three ghosts exchanged disquieted looks, but it was Adam who vocalized the stark horror of what her words implied. "While to many that might sound like paradise, at first blush, in reality, it would be a blasted nightmare. Frozen in one state, seeing all you love die around you." He glanced at Tristan. "You were injured when this curse fell, yes?" At the young man's curt nod, Adam went on, "Does the pain appear to be lessening? I'm wondering HOW frozen you are. If, say, Martha asks one of you to peel potatoes or chop something and the knife slips, would you heal?"

"I'm feeling better," Tris nodded slowly. "Nothing like an hour ago." He winced again and rubbed his shoulder. "This whole experience does make me rather glad I never... felt anything, so to speak, when I died from that fall I took a hundred and twenty five years ago. I should be fine by tomorrow. Mind you, I would feel BETTER if the Dutchman would cast off and leave us alone!"

"I didn't realize that's how you... died," Candy said softly.

"It was a long time ago," the young ghost answered, in a voice equally quiet. "Nothing you could have done."

"I can still — hurt for your sake," she insisted, squeezing his hand.

Daniel glared at their joined hands. Candy was as close to a daughter as he had, so he might want to test the theory on whether or not Tristan would heal.

Adam's lips quirked as he caught the look. "So, we don't have to worry about you all if you get klutzy. You'll heal."

"I assume so," Dash drawled. "But, don't grab a paring knife just to test the theory, old son."

Adam held up a hand. "Furthest thing from my mind. Now, what about clothes? I don't really think Sean or his lordship can fit into anything of mine, Tristan might. But none of you can run around in the same duds for however long this takes."

"And I know, I'm a hundred years out of style," Sean nodded glumly.

"Well, you four are the most ATTRACTIVE out-of-style ghosts I know," Martha grinned. "If Dash, here, hadn't been, Ed might never have decided he needed to propose to me, remember? Speaking of which, I suppose I need to call him and let him know what's going on." She scratched her nose. "Blast. I just remembered — he and Abner Dawes are in Keystone on a job today. Too bad I can't get a hold of him; there's a great big thrift shop up there. He could pick up clothes, cheap. You know, blue jeans and whatnot. I must say, I have had a hankering from time to time to see what you guys would look like in modern casual dress! Does rather make me wish you were in a solid state, too, Captain."

Daniel Gregg raised his eyebrows. "I haven't worn dungarees in... Easily one hundred and thirty years, Martha. I hardly think..."

"They've gotten better looking, Captain. Trust me."

"Blast, I wish there were a non-seaman ghost around who could do your popping for you," said Jon. "They could run up to Keystone, and..."

"But we don't, son," The Captain sighed. "And even though I am ethereal, I don't dare make that far a pop. I might find myself walking back to Gull Cottage."

"You made it into Schooner Bay, and the library, last time, Daniel," Carolyn pointed out.

"Yes, and I couldn't even wrestle a book away from you," he retorted.

"True."

"I think our best bet is to make a run up there tomorrow," said Candy. "Its Saturday, the place will be crowded, but I think we're stuck with that. Unless, maybe we'll get lucky and Uncle Ed will call Martha here, before he heads for home and she can have him get clothes and stuff for all of you."

"Yes, but we don't know sizes, and then Ed would have to explain an emergency trip to a thrift shop to Abner," Adam said, looking at his watch, "Uh, I assume you three will need to sleep. Do you have anything to sleep in?"

"Sleep..." Dash sighed. "I haven't been granted the ability to sleep in ages! Of course the last few times the Dutchman was around, I was in an intangible state, and couldn't..."

"Aye, the same for me..." said Sean.

"And me," Tris chimed in.

They all looked at Captain Gregg, guiltily, but he waved their looks away.

"You can't miss that which you don't remember... much." He glanced Carolyn's way. "There are other abilities I WILL miss, infinitely more."

A silence hung in the air, which was finally broken by Jonathan.

"Tris, I think I might have something you can sleep in. You're not TOO much taller than I am, these days. They're just boxers, but..."

"That will be fine. Maybe we can... make do, for tonight and find something, tomorrow," Sean said, his complexion growing ruddy. "Some aspects of... modern dress have changed a bit in the last hundred years."

"Like, what?" Jon asked, perplexed.

"I hesitate to say in front of ladies."

"Oh, go ahead," Jenny waved a hand. "I'm in college now."

"And I'm not far behind," Candy pointed out. "Times change, Uncle Sean."

"Very well. Underwear."

"Huh?" All the mortals in the room stared at him.

Sean was now bright red. "Men a hundred years ago didn't wear underwear. Perhaps Ed can find us something?"

"You're both better built than he is," Martha coughed, looking around the room at the pink faces.

"I will check the sea chest upstairs," Daniel said. "I doubt Claymore's perfidious ancestors stole my old nightclothes."

Carolyn wrinkled her nose. "Those would be terribly musty — if the fabric hasn't rotted away all together. I can make a fast run into town and get something..."

"Schooner Bay stores are closed," Adam said briefly. "And I live too far away from here to... wait a minute!" he snapped his fingers. "I must be losing my mind. I just picked up my clothes from the laundry. You can't have all of them, but I know I have some T-shirts and... Uh... whatnot in there. You take what you need, and I have more at home — I think. If not, I can pick up something else for myself tomorrow."

"Well, you certainly disprove a legend or two," Dash chuckled. "Most lawyers take the shirt off your back. You GIVE yours. I always knew I made the right decision... hiring your family."

"You aren't average clients, for one thing, so why have a usual lawyer?" Adam said gruffly. "Moreover, you are friends. But, don't let it get around."

"Thank you," the three ghosts chorused.

"And I've made up the guest room, my old room, and one of you can room with Jonathan, or take the couch, or double up," Martha said. "Now, that dinner I made is going to be unfit for consumption soon. We can keep talking over it."

XXX

It might have been just another Friday evening dinner. The ghosts and Adam came over fairly regularly; but when they sat down, on reflex, Daniel reached for a fork, only to have his hand pass through it.

"Blast!"

Automatically, everyone paused, not sure whether to eat or not. Frowning, he said, "Go on, all of you." His gaze went to his crew. "It's not your fault, and all of you need the energy."

Without comment, humans and ghosts alike obeyed, though Martha's cooking might as well have been sand. No one could manage to enjoy it. Well, Adam would have some leftovers to take home, at least. With concentration, Daniel did manage to lift a glass and sip some wine, but it was an effort. A few times, the spirits tried to levitate various items, and did manage to make a cup or utensil quiver, but Martha asked them to please stop. She really did not want a huge mess, or even a minor one.

The evening passed quietly. Adam found enough spare clothes in his laundry to clad the solid ghosts in sleeping attire, for one night, anyway, and departed about nine, saying it wasn't a good idea to drive home too late and increase the odds of an accident on the road.

The solid ghosts found their eyelids drooping about ten, and, begging their surprise host's pardon, requested directions to their berths for the night.

XXX

By eight a.m. the next morning, most of the house had awakened, and congregated around the breakfast table, and Tris, who had risen early was busy making a dent in the dry cereal and milk Carolyn kept stocked.

"Y'know, this isn't so awful, after all," Tris smiled, pouring more Coco Puffs into his bowl to use up the extra milk.

"Speak for yourself," Daniel barked. "Not all of us in Gull Cottage slept last night. This isn't a bloody Boy Scout camp-out, you know."

"I didn't sleep on purpose. It — just happened," Tris tried to explain, but Daniel jumped on the boy again.

"Well maybe you can happen NOT to mention it in my presence!"

"Danny." Sean said softly. "Tris was only stating the truth. Sleep — 'tis a blessed state, and..."

"And I am not in any different position than I was last night, or the night before that, or any night since I died. I know, Sean."

From the other side of the kitchen where they were putting breakfast together for the rest of the crew, the two girls yawned, and then Candy said, "We didn't do so great sleeping either."

"Too much excitement?" Daniel asked, some of the bite out of his tone.

"Nope. Too much noise," Jenny answered.

"Uncle Dash is in the guest room, just a little way down the hall," Candy clarified. "He — snores."

Since Dash is still in bed, snoring must be exhausting work, Daniel thought glumly.

"Snores loudly," Candy added. "Remind me not to marry a guy who snores."

Mindful of the extra tension in the air, Sean chose to reply before any other ghost could, "Oh? We've got some ammo to use now, don't we, lads? He'll never — er — live this down."

Carolyn rolled her eyes. "My father used to snore — when he slept on his back, anyway. Like when he used to nap on the couch on Sunday afternoons. I never could understand why he didn't wake himself up. Did Dash snore when he was... alive?"

Absently rubbing his ear, Daniel pointed out, "As Captain, I never had to share my quarters."

"Don't look at me. The low ranking seamen's quarters were so full of snorers that I got immune to it. Pretty sure I did NOT snore," Tris rambled on thoughtfully. "No one ever told me I did."

Sean shrugged. "I roomed with him, sometimes, usually dropped off before he did. Don't think he did though. Maybe getting used to sleep has an adverse effect on him."

"Well, well, well!" Dash's bright, smiling face appeared in the doorway. "What's all this about snoring? Tris, did you keep these ladies awake last night?"

Snickering, the boy shook his head. "As I have already said, I DO NOT snore, sir."

"I fear, my old friend," Daniel said, "that it would be YOU who can take — credit, shall we say, for that."

Dash blinked, drawing back. "I? I do not snore. Tristan, stop blaming me for your deeds."

"I was downstairs, on the couch. Even if I did, there is NO way the girls would have heard me."

"I never snored. Aislynn would have told me if I had, she was a light sleeper. I do not snore."

"You do now," Sean grinned. "Sounds like you're a real protégé'. Got it down cold, first try. Good show."

Dash gave his friend a dark look. "What's on the agenda for today?" he asked with less cheerfulness than he had entered with.

"We need to think of a good reason for Candy and me to cancel the double date we had with Tris and Dave," Jenny said.

Daniel frowned. "Why? Are you on the — outs with your young man, dear girl?"

"No, but — can Tris leave the house?" she answered.

"I was able to the last time the Vulture landed," Daniel said. "I would not advise driving, though."

"What if he asks about my step-dad, Pop?" Tristan wondered. Sean reached over and swatted Tristan's ear. "Hey!"

"Thank you, Sean," Daniel said. "I told you not to call me that, Tristan. If Dave asks about me, say that I was called away on business."

"We'll make sure we aren't seen while he's around," Sean added.

"I have been seen around town, from time to time. I think I'm allegedly related to Adam," Dash frowned over his coffee. "It's about time you met more people, Sean."

"You can be related to me, if you like," Carolyn said. "I do have one or two relatives I'd let you replace any day."

"I second that," Daniel huffed. "I do hope Harriet, Hazel, Uncle Arnold, etcetera are not planning visits any time soon."

"Not to my knowledge," Carolyn assured him. "If they were, we'd all have some highly contagious disease."

"Too bad we couldn't have told the Dutchman and the Sea Vulture that," Sean smiled. "Well, I'm about finished here. What is first on the agenda today, Carrie? Is your article finished? I suppose even if we are mortalized at the moment we could make ourselves useful around here somewhere. Or are we ready to go shopping? Might be interesting, taking an automobile ride. Tris and Dash are much more familiar with cars than I."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Sean," Carolyn shook her head.

"Why not? I won't talk while you drive, and I haven't been to Keystone for a while."

"You guys are not leaving Schooner Bay, remember?" she answered, lifting her brows.

"I did forget!" Sean fumed, snapping his fingers. "I hate this, y'know. I'm used to being able to go where I want, when I want, and... In spite of being able to sleep for the first time in a hundred years, there are disadvantages to this state." His brogue grew more pronounced. "I was thinkin' on makin' a short jaunt before your birthday, Danny. Now I dinna suppose I'll be getting' to that until after your day. Blast that scow!"

"Were you leaving us?" Carolyn frowned.

"Uncle Sean!" Jenny gasped.

"We'd miss you terribly," Candy said.

Jonathan ambled in. "Who's leaving?"

"No one, for a while, apparently," Dash said.

"I wouldna be gone long," Sean said. "If I could go, that is. No ten-year leave of absence, not for a while. Just, wanted to look up an... Old friend. Their birthday was yesterday, and I thought about — h — them. But if I had left when I was thinkin' about, I would be back for Danny's birthday, regardless."

"Maybe you could... well, no, I guess you can't call your friend on the phone. Maybe they will decide to come here, instead?" Jon asked. "Not now, or the Dutchman would zap him. But I'd love to meet another member of the crew. Besides Elroy, I mean. You suppose he's affected by the Vulture, wherever he is?"

"I don't think the Vulture would make too much of a difference in Elroy's case," Daniel interrupted, smoothly. "Sean, will you be able to look for M... your friend a little later this month?"

"Aye," Sean answered softly. "A few more days won't really hurt anything, I don't suppose." Giving himself a quick shake, he turned back to Carolyn. "So... what IS the master plan for today, if none of us can help you shop?"

"I think Tristan has plans," Carolyn smiled. "Work wise, the house is in good shape, thanks to you guys keeping on top of things. Besides, we don't know how much exertion will tax any of your strengths. I would appreciate it if you, Dash, and Tris would give me your measurements so that Martha and I can take care of the things you need."

"Measurements?" Dash gave his hostess a blank look.

"Yes," Carolyn smiled. "Goodwill shopping is a little guess and hope, but I need an idea of what size you guys are — trousers — waist, in-seam, etcetera. Shirts, too — I need to know what sizes you take. Used clothing stores don't do refunds, and all three of you will need at least two changes of clothes, and..." she blushed again. "...Other stuff. I think we will have to buy THAT new. Eckerds is close to the thrift store."

"Martha should be here in about an hour. She'll be helping Carolyn shop today," Daniel said. "So..." Walking over to the counter, he opened a 'things-drawer' there, and after pawing through it for a moment and muttering, he pulled out a tape measure. "Push off, you three. Measure the usual places and write them down carefully. Dash, you know what needs to be done. You always had your clothing made."

"And beautiful it was, too," the lord smiled wistfully. "I don't think I have ever conjured anything as handsome as the things I had made for me — especially the clothing Aislynn created."

"What we find won't be nearly as handsome," Carolyn warned.

"Oh, I know," Dash smiled. "Just a memory stirred itself."

"Besides," Daniel added, fingering his earlobe, "that sort of thing would be entirely too — showy — for the present circumstances."

Carolyn looked at her girls, then Tris. "What time are you three leaving?"

"Not until later — five or six," Tristan smiled. "And, we will not leave Schooner Bay."

"So, it's not an all day thing, like a picnic, movies, and so on?"

"Nope."

"Oh. I assumed it being a Saturday, you would make a day of it."

"No — well for one thing, we have to kinda fake it around here until Tris has something decent to wear out in public."

"I will endeavor not to be insulted," he said airily, but Tristan's eyes twinkled a little.

"And we do have a few THINGS to do around, here and there," Jenny added, looking at her older cousin significantly. "Time waits for no one, you know."

Carolyn nodded. "Too true."

"Why does that tone of voice from the females of this family always mean something more than the actual words spoken?" Daniel mused.

"It's a female thing, old son," Dash said with the weight of knowledge in his voice. "They all do it."

"I think I take umbrage to that," Candy said loftily. "Think what you will. I can't speak for Jenny, but I DO have some homework to finish, and Jenny and I need to give our room a once-over cleaning." A blue-green eye, not in Daniel's line of vision, gave a fast wink at the lord.

"To atone for my poorly chosen words, I humbly offer my services as dishwasher," Dash said.

"Only after you measure," Carolyn reminded him.

"Right," Sean nodded.

Breakfast was finished in short order. Afterwards, the girls took off for their room while the three solid ghosts went to the guestroom to determine what sizes they needed. By the time Martha arrived, they had returned and set up an assembly line to wash and dry the dishes.

The older woman took in this sight, and then commented, "I could get used to this part of the whole curse thing."

Daniel spoke for them all when he said, "Although this is — women's work — I will gladly assist in it every day of the year, if only that blasted scow will blow itself to kingdom come!"

Holding up one hand, Martha said, "Calm down, Captain! I'm just as anxious for it to sink or swim away as any of you."

"Not sink," Daniel said. "If it sank, it would never leave, just be down there, lurking."

Carolyn came into the room, purse in hand at that moment. "Hi, Martha. Do you want some coffee or—?"

"Let's get on with this. Those three have been in the same clothes for nearly a full day, that can't feel very good," Martha said. "Besides, Goodwill gets new shipments on Saturday morning, and I'd like to beat the die-hard bargain hunters."

"Speaking of which, do not tell Claymore about this," Daniel warned.

Smiling, Carolyn crossed the room. "You don't think he's improved any?"

"No," Daniel answered darkly.

On reflex, she reached up on tiptoes to kiss him good-bye, but her lips only met an area of staticky air. However, that was an improvement.

As if reading her thoughts, the Captain said, "I've been working on achieving some degree of — cohesiveness."

"Good," Mrs. Muir nodded. "We can deal with this curse, and not let some leaky old tub beat us."

"That's my lady!" Daniel smiled his first genuine smile since the previous afternoon. "We can't get discouraged yet. After all, last time the Dutchman was in port it was only for forty-eight hours or so. Maybe we'll be lucky again."

"You know," Carolyn mused in an undertone, "I do have one very fond memory of that day. It was the first time you called us your family in an — un-oblique way."

"The first time — aloud, Madam," he gently corrected her. "To myself. I had — quite often."

"Really?" she asked, her eyes getting misty. "Why, Daniel, that's..." She took a deep breath, knowing he would NOT appreciate being called "sweet" in front of his crew. "...You did it again when Algae visited here."

"Really..." he said softly, standing as close to her as he could in his ethereal state. "My only regret is I didn't acknowledge it sooner than I did."

The Captain's crew looked away pointedly.

Sensing this, Carolyn stepped back slightly. Still speaking very quietly, she said, "I want a rain check."

"Gladly, my dear. I still wish one of us could make the trip with you today," he sighed.

"Daniel, you don't dare set foot out of Schooner Bay. The Dutchman could return. I don't think I could live with you all in limbo for another seven years, or however long it takes him to come back again."

"Aye," Tris nodded. "And I don't care to look nineteen for seven years."

"And I still have a few explorations to make," Sean added, a slightly wistful expression crossing his face.

"And I, a house to get back to," Dash said, decidedly.

"And we need to get going," Carolyn added. "Kids, you have chores, and..." She glanced around. "You guys... make yourself at home... more so. And don't over exert." She paused. "Daniel, you..."

"I will be working on my charts," the seaman said, a scowl coming to his face. "That would seem to be the only thing I am capable of, at the moment."

Carolyn paused to stand, hands on hips, mildly glaring at him. "Daniel Gregg, just being — you — is something — something wonderful! You're— "

"If you take time to list all his wonderful qualities, we'll be here all day, and he'll outgrow his hat," Martha cut in.

"Right," Carolyn agreed. "All of you — "

"We will behave," Tristan promised.

XXX

The drive to Keystone was uneventful. Since the drugstore, Eckerds, came first off the freeway, the two women decided to make that stop and get the 'personal' shopping for the crew out of the way before anything else. There was a good sale; the crowds weren't bad and the selections good. Carolyn frowned slightly as the two women stood in the checkout line and shook her head. "Well, I'm glad we haven't run into anyone we know yet. If Jane Shoemaker saw me buying various sizes of men's unmentionables, I don't know what she'd think. Jon insists on buying his own these days, Bobby is long out of the picture, and 'Alex,' Tristan's so-called stepfather, and my current 'steady' and I certainly haven't reached that sort of relationship!"

"I can always say some of them are for Ed, if she doesn't look too close," Martha chuckled.

"I would just as soon not go into it at all," Carolyn smiled back as they reached the head of the line.

The bored looking checker barely glanced at the purchases, simply ran them over the scanner indifferently and announced the total. Then, it was on to Goodwill. Already the lot was nearly full. The two women exchanged rueful glances as they stepped inside and headed toward the men's department.

"Most of this stuff almost looks new, but not quite," Martha commented, examining a pair of black pants she thought would look good on Lord Dashire.

"Which is just as well. They'll look used to the clothes," Carolyn added. "Blast. I hate it when they take the tags out." She held up a shirt. "Do you think this is the right size for Sean?"

"Hard to say," Martha frowned. "It's nice, and not too expensive, so risk it. Even if it's not, maybe Dash or Tris can wear it."

"It's really a shame I can't make use of this place more often," Carolyn mused, picking up another shirt, this one blue. "But Candy pretty much buys her own clothes now with money she makes working for Ed, and other odd jobs here and there, and Jenny has the allowance from her parent's estate. Jon still needs financial help from me, of course, but he announced that he was too old from his mother to help him shop when he was ten, and Daniel insisted I didn't "mollycoddle" him." She laughed. "But I noticed Daniel was always there in one form or another to coach and offer a little wardrobe advice, thank goodness! He was able to keep some sort of eye on him!" She looked around. "Well, they are a little light on men's pants. Martha, were you serious about buying the guys jeans? They're over, a few aisles."

"If we can find some cheap, you bet!" Martha grinned. "You know, it's really too bad it took the Dutchman, and our guys being powerless, to force them into a good-looking pair of jeans. Tell you what, if they don't have any here that are right, we need to find another discount store somewhere. It would be worth the money spent just to see then dress that way once. Nothing looks better to me than a man in a great three-piece suit, a naval uniform, or the right pair of jeans!"

"Martha Grant Peavey, You are a married woman," Carolyn chided.

"Married, but I still have my eyesight." Feeling a little daring she added, "And don't tell me you haven't noticed the other three and how they look!"

Carolyn made no verbal response, but she might have nodded ever so slightly. "We can't go in for three piece suits, the jeans are... doable."

"I hope Fontenot's not affected," Martha remarked, hearing Mrs. Muir use one of the enigmatic spirit's catchphrases.

"Unless it means we get to see him in jeans?" Carolyn grinned.

"Right."

Wrapped up in their looking and girl talk, Martha and Carolyn didn't see the lanky bespectacled man lurking about five rows away from them.

"Dutchman?" the man whispered. "So the fellow's back! I think I need to pay a visit to Gull Cottage!" He turned on his heel and, after stopping briefly to pay for his meager purchases, made a beeline for the exit.

Budget considerations and optimism that not too much WOULD be needed kept their shopping from going on too long. By noon, Carolyn and Martha were on the road again, having decided that getting the guys their necessities took priority over lunch. Maybe they'd be lucky and the celestial winds had blown.

XXX

While the girls assembled lunch for the crowd, Tristan made himself useful cleaning the infamous cellar. Coming up for air and to get a shower before noon, he shook his head. "Y'know, ladies, I am SO glad my older brother is no where near this place."

"You mentioned him before, when you kept me company while I was sick that time," Candy said. "What would he do?"

Rolling his eyes, Tristan drew himself up, pulled his brows into a scowl, and stalked over to her. Leaning close, he wagged a finger in her face. "I knew it! I knew your — vagabond ways would bring you to no good end. See? If you had stayed home with the pigs, you wouldn't be in this fix, now would you? No. You would not. Now, you are reaping what you have sown." Returning to his normal voice, Tris stepped back. "Of course, he would say it much louder, and five times as fast. Without taking one breath."

"Sounds like a real—" Jenny broke off, not sure what the word would be.

"And then some," Tris nodded sagely.

A loud banging cut short their conversation. "Think your mom needs some help bringing stuff in?" he wondered. He frowned in concentration. "Blast. I hoped I could pop out and see. Okay, normal way then."

"Be careful doing that. I don't want you stuck in — ether," Candy chided.

"Right." With a cheery grin, he pushed the door open, headed toward the atrium. By this time, the other residents were also headed in that direction.

"Jonathan, you'd best—" Daniel began, thinking that he did not believe Carolyn would pound like that, even if she left her keys at home. Therefore, it must be a stranger or…

"Open the door! I know all about you!" Claymore's shrill voice called through the wood.

"Blast!" Daniel raged. "I suppose he's here with another portrait of one of his blasted mother's benighted ancestors."

"He won't get far," Dash promised grimly. Sean nodded.

"Open this door, right now. I'm still the landlord, and you have no right to keep me out!" There was more pounding, then a whimper of, "Please?"

The little group stared at each other, then the door. "Are we going to let him stay out there all day?" Jenny asked.

"He'll give up, surely," Sean said. "He'll lose his voice."

Knock, knock, knock.

"And bruise his knuckles," the Irish ghost added.

Claymore was just about to concede defeat when Carolyn and Martha pulled up.

"What's he doing here?" Martha wondered acerbically.

"I can only guess," Mrs. Muir answered darkly.

The two women hurried up the walk, leaving their packages in the car.

"Claymore, is anything, wrong?" Carolyn started innocently.

"Mrs. Muir! Martha! Tell them to let me in," Claymore said. "I know about the Sea Vulture, and — well, I'm not here to do anything, honest. Cross my heart, and hope NOT to die. Please. I just want to talk to them."

The women looked at one another. "Okay," Carolyn sighed.

"You can help us unload the car," Martha said. "There's two shopping bags full in the back seat. Go get them."

"Well, all right," Claymore agreed, realizing this was the price of admission.

Carolyn opened the door when he rejoined them on the porch.

"What are you thinking?" the Captain exclaimed upon seeing his supposed nephew trail in after the women.

"He promised to be good," Carolyn whispered.

"He'd better be," Daniel scowled.

Dropping the bags, Claymore stared around the room at the humans and ghosts. "I overheard Mrs. Muir and Martha, and — I know about the Vulture being back. Look, I—I—I—I just wanted to let you know that — that — I'm not gonna do — anything — like the last time. Honest."

"Why should we believe you?" Daniel rumbled dangerously.

"Well, for one thing," Claymore said, "at least some of you are — more solid now, and could hurt me. Two, I know it won't last, so I'd just get in trouble. Three, you broke my painting, so I can't hang it up anyway. Four, I have learned my lesson, you know. Five, you've all been pretty — nice to me, and almost like family, in a good way. Is that six? Or just five. Ungh!" A fierce look from Daniel hurried him on. "Er — six, I — don't think I can, but if I can, I'd be willing to help, if it didn't cost me anything, or much, anyway."

The crew considered his words. "It sounds as if we might have been a good influence on him," Dash observed. "At least Adam has," he grinned. "One, two, three..."

"He has been," Claymore groused. "That counting is contagious. I didn't even know I'd done it until you said something."

"There are worse influences," Sean grinned.

"And he has used it effectively, I'd say. He's top notch in his field," Dash beamed.

"Even if he's not from Ungerhaber's," Daniel finished.

"Hey! That's a perfectly respectable correspondence law school," Claymore protested. "And if I hadn't graduated with honors, I couldn't have defended Mrs. Muir when they put her in jail, and..."

"And you wouldn't have won that case if I hadn't stepped in," Daniel growled. "Don't push it."

"Stepped into ME, you mean," Claymore sniffed. "And I still think I would have won that case, even without your assistance."

Before things could explode, Carolyn jumped in, "We really appreciate the offer of help, Claymore, but unless you can tow the Sea Vulture to some other port, I don't think you — or anyone — can do anything." She smiled. "You've already brought our bags in."

Claymore shifted nervously. "Are some of you — sorta — human now? I was just kinda putting two and two together..."

"Aye," Sean said.

"Quite," Dash agreed.

"But, it's not so bad, really," Tristan chimed in.

"Yeah, well, if you need an extra bed, I could, y'know, unroll the sofa bed. It's not much, but, do you even need to sleep?" Claymore dithered anxiously.

"Yes, we do," Tris smiled.

"But, we're fine here," Dash rushed to assure the nervous man.

"Ya sure?" Claymore asked, frowning. "I mean, I did come all the way out here from town, just to check on you all, and..."

"Claymore," Carolyn said gently, "It was only two miles."

"And two miles back," Claymore said, pouting. "And I did offer to help and all, and you don't need me to do anything?"

"Nothing at the moment," Daniel said, "But... thank you, Claymore."

"Thank YOU," Claymore smiled, holding out his hand to his 'uncle,' but much to his surprise, Daniel did not return the gesture. "Oh... I guess you are still mad at me for what happened seven years ago?"

"No..." Daniel frowned. "Claymore, I can't shake your hand. I'm... NOT solid."

Baffled, he looked from the Captain to the other three, then to the clothes' bags. "But they were buying men's clothes... and... YOU said you were solid." He pointed an accusing finger at the crewmen.

"We are," Sean said. "It's — complicated, Claymore."

"Suffice it to say, "Dash added, "that we were all frozen in the state at which we were when it came into port. Had we warning of its appearance, I'm sure all of us would be solid."

"But... you'll be back to your normal selves any time, right?" Claymore's gaze shifted around the foyer. "You didn't stay powerless long last time, Captain. Only about two days, right?"

Sean shrugged. "It varies, Clay. Last time I got caught, I was powerless for a week. Had to make my home in an abandoned barn."

"What were you doing around a barn?"

"Road trip," the Irishman answered shortly.

"Oh... sorry," he mumbled, starting toward the door again.

"No need to be," he answered. "You didn't bring the Dutchman, now or then."

"Since you're here, would you like to stay for lunch, Claymore?" Jenny asked. "We didn't bake an apple pie, but there is plenty to eat, if you would care to join us."

"You really want me to?"

"Yes," Carolyn nodded.

It did take a hard look from Carolyn to prompt the Captain's nod, and Tristan needed a similar one from Candy. Even then, he didn't nod until Daniel did.

"If you insist, then how can I say no?" Claymore beamed.

"But, since they cooked, we guys have to clean up," Jon informed him. "That means you, too."

"Paper plates are good," Claymore suggested.

"But cost more in the long run," Martha pointed out.

"True, very true," Claymore nodded. "That's how I happened to be up in Keystone today. I was looking for bargains. I've found paper plates there before."

"Eww," Jon made a face. "You don't buy used paper plates, do you? I didn't even know there were such things."

"Of course not, don't be silly," Claymore sniffed. "But the drug store near the Goodwill store gets factory overruns every now and then, so when I am in the neighborhood, I look. And I was today because I needed to look in the Goodwill store for a new suit. New-used suit, I mean. Didn't find one though."

"I was wondering how you found out about the Sea Vulture," Martha nodded. "You saw us there?"

"Yeah, and heard enough to figure it out," said Claymore. "I'm not so dumb, you know."

"Always exceptions to the rule," Daniel muttered, but Claymore either ignored, or didn't hear his 'uncle.'

"So what do you guys do now?" he asked seating himself at the kitchen table. "Can you storm the ship and make the Dutchman leave? Fire a round or two of ghostly ammunition? Bribe the Dutchman into leaving? Don't look at me, if that's it. Those rusty sovereigns you gave me years ago are long gone, Uncle."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Daniel mentally recited the ancestry of Noah, and then bit out, "I am NOT your uncle. Furthermore, gold and silver do NOT rust. Finally, there is no way to remove the Sea Vulture except for the celestial winds to blow. Moreover, we do not have another ghost ship with which to storm it, even if that would do any good."

"What about a dinghy?" Claymore pressed. "You could all row out there and..."

"And do what?" Dash said. "Claymore, number one, the ship is in a ghost state. We are caught in a solid one, except for Daniel, so while we might be able to find a dinghy, we could not board her any more than you can, and..."

"I'm not boarding any ghost ship!"

"But you are willin' for us to?" Sean queried. "The only one here in an intangible state is Daniel, and there is no way he is going to take on something like that, alone, number two, the Vulture is un-scaleable, even to ghosts, so you might as well forget even entertanin' such a plan."

Holding up a hand, Claymore said, "Okay, okay. Sheesh. I was just trying to think of something — something helpful."

"And we appreciate it, Claymore," Carolyn smiled. "DON'T we, gentlemen?"

The ghosts shrugged, and Claymore shrugged back.

"Don't give me that look. You guys... I always think of you all being able to do anything." He sighed, and bit into the sandwich Candy had placed in front of him.

"I'll grant you, we are able to do many things," Daniel said. "However, there are limits, even for such as myself, and my crew."

"I'll remember that the next time you call yourself a super-spirit, Captain!" Claymore grinned and took another bite of his lunch. "So, what do you guys do now? Just... hang out here? Can't that guru guy do something?"

"I most certainly AM a super-spirit, you— "

"Even Superman has Kryptonite," Jenny added. "The Dutchman is the guys' Kryptonite."

"Oh."

"Fontenot seldom leaves a forwarding address," Dash said. "For all we know, he's in Timbuktu training other ghosts. Since we are, momentarily, without transportation to the ethereal planes, finding him is not only impossible, but not doable."

"And, a sea-spirit would not take orders from a landlubber, so the Dutchman would likely just get mad and put his anchor down so he'd never leave if Fontenot DID go out and yell at him," Tristan opined.

"So all you can do is wait it out?" Claymore asked.

"Yes, and just to make sure you understand, Claymore, Daniel may be intangible at the moment, but we are not," Dash said softly. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Urrk, yes," the man nodded. "Perfectly. Well, like I said, if I can do anything, or if you even think I can. Ask. I won't promise, but ask me, anyway."

"Thank you, Claymore," Carolyn smiled, refilling his milk glass.

"So what are you guys doing this afternoon?" he queried. "Just... trying to stay busy? There's a good movie playing in town. Maybe you could go there, try to get your mind off things."

"We know," Candy and Jenny said together.

"And," Tristan contributed, "Dave and I are taking the girls there."

"Oh," the man shrugged and looked disappointed. "I was kinda hoping all you guys would go. The theater gives group rates. If ten people buy in a group, the eleventh one is free."

"Eleven people, Claymore?" Daniel's eyebrows went up.

"Sure," he counted on his fingers. "You, Mrs. Muir, Dave, Jenny, Candy, Tris, Sean, Dash, Martha and Ed. We could all go, and I would be the eleventh, and get in free."

"I don't believe so, Claymore."

"It was just a thought," he said, mopping his mouth.

"It's a date, not a party," Tristan added. Seeing the expression on Dash's, 'the ghost who had sired five daughters' face and the Captain's look, he continued, barely missing a beat. "Since Dave AND I are beyond trustworthy, having one date without chaperones, invisible or otherwise, might be nice."

"Hmph," Daniel commented.

"If you bought my ticket, I could go as chaperone," Claymore volunteered.

In response to the silent pleas, Carolyn said, "Maybe some other time, Claymore. But, I think all four of them can be trusted to behave, and it is a public place."

"Right. And being re-killed holds no appeal," Tristan nodded. "I have no doubt that somehow, if I stepped out of line, it would be known."

"You most assuredly have THAT right," Daniel said grimly.

"Aye, sir."

"Well, thank you for the lunch," Claymore said, standing up. "Can you guys do me a favor and at least keep me informed of your... circumstances?" He blushed a bit and wouldn't look the seamen in the face.

"Claymore," Carolyn said gently. "This isn't a disease. It will pass. I know it. It has for more than a hundred years."

"Yeah, but when you want to help, and can't, ya feel bad, ya know?"

"Yes, Claymore," Carolyn smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I understand, completely."

On that note, he left.

"Dare I say there might be hope for him, yet?" Sean asked.

"It is distantly possible," Daniel grudgingly conceded. "Probable is another story."

XXX

The afternoon that followed was quiet. The girls and Tristan spent part of it getting ready. If Dave asked, Tristan's 'step-dad' had gone away on urgent business, but the boy was staying with Carolyn until his 'return,' thus explaining any hint that he was living at Gull Cottage. Tris was just anxious for the time to leave to arrive. He felt quite at home there, however, the Vulture's arrival made his presence feel somewhat coerced, and that drove him barmy. Having an option felt good.

When they returned home, no one was surprised to see Daniel, Dash, Sean, and Carolyn waiting up. Jonathan was watching television, completely ignoring the adults.

"Did you have fun?" Carolyn asked.

"It was a good movie, not great," Jenny shrugged.

"The previews were better than the actual movie," Candy said.

"And we were on good behavior, Dad," Tristan informed the Captain. "Norrie was in the row behind us, so you can feel free to ask him, if you are truly nervous."

"We saw Mrs. Coburn, too," Candy made a face. "So, if anything — untoward..."

Jonathan looked up from the show; "Someone's been practicing her vocabulary words."

Candy rolled her eyes, then went on, "...had happened, you'd already know it."

"This is true," Carolyn admitted.

XXX

Half of Sunday was taken up with church. Daniel rode invisibly in the car with the family. Both Dash and Tristan had been seen in town from time to time. Sean had been as well, but had used various other faces. Fortunately, their first introduction was painless.

"Hi, Carolyn," Dr. Avery called. Like Carolyn, the doctor was still considered a fairly-newcomer to town, and was also a widow with a teenager. More than once, Carolyn had thought that given the chance, they'd be good friends.

"Hi, Lynne," she smiled in return. "I'd like you to meet my — cousins who're visiting. This is Sean O'Casey and Charles Dashire."

"Nice to meet you," Lynne grinned, shaking their hands. "Sean, Charles."

"Dash to my friends," the nobleman instructed with a warm smile. Odd, he suddenly felt stronger. If it hadn't been for the crowd, he might have attempted a pop.

Lynne raised a brow, considering, and then said, "Okay, Dash. I'm Lynne, and I'm trying to find my wayward child. Lost him in the throng."

"Check the gym," Jonathan suggested. "Some of the guys like to play basketball there after services."

"And likely a few during," the doctor shook her head. "Okay. Nice meeting you two." She hurried off.

"Don't suppose I could —?" Tristan started to ask.

"No, you may not drive us home," Sean answered for Mrs. Muir. "What's the look on your face, Dash?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing. I just thought — a bird might have sailed away, and was seeing if I could change my jewelry, as a test."

Sean looked at the wedding band that remained adamantly on his friend's finger. "Whatever gave ye that notion?"

"I felt better, for a moment."

"Ye're daft. Just getting used to things, I expect."

"Hush, you two," Carolyn chided. "Let's find Jen and go on back home."

"Skipping the coffee hour?" Dash looked pained.

"Mrs. Shoemaker's hosting it," Candy said under her breath. "Trust me. You want to skip."

"And you need to, or ye'll be getting portly on us, old son," Sean snickered.

"And I'm anxious to SEE someone," Carolyn whispered. She knew Daniel was there, but he could not manage to be seen only by those he wished to be seen by and not by those he didn't at the present time.

"Good point," Dash nodded. "I see Dave's head. I would imagine Jenny is near there."

Sunday afternoon was quiet. Despite Dash's surge of optimism, the Sea Vulture could still be seen, becalmed in the nearby waters.

XXX

Carolyn awoke early Monday morning around seven. Strange thing about habits and routines, she reflected. No day since Friday has been quite the same without my good morning kiss. Reflexively, she looked around, expecting to see Daniel at least in his usual post on the balcony, by the ship's wheel. Much to her surprise he wasn't there, or anywhere to be seen.

Is he invisible? Had he lost the power to be visible? Gulping down her fears, she drew on a robe and went to the wheel. "Daniel? Captain?" Nothing. Surely he would answer if he was there. Shoving her feet into shoes, Carolyn went up to the widow's-walk, where she saw her favorite ghost staring out to sea.

"Daniel?"

He turned. "Good morning, my dear," he greeted her grimly.

"I didn't see you at the wheel... I was concerned."

"No need. I came up here to think, and someone had to keep watch. I must have lost track of the hour. I am sorry if I worried you, love."

"Only a bit. I knew you were here somewhere. You're always here. You promised me you'd always be here, ages ago, remember?"

"Yes," he smiled. "I do. I miss you, Carolyn."

"I miss you, too, Daniel." She reached up to him, letting her hand curve over his face where she could normally caress his bearded cheek, but as expected, there was only air. Carolyn let her hand drop, slowly. "But you know, this won't last forever. Just you wait and see."

"I admire your optimism."

"You know, after Claymore's visit the other day, I did find myself almost wishing he would try something with you." She giggled slightly. "It was when he did that you got your powers back last time, remember?"

Daniel chuckled, recalling the dumbfounded expression on Claymore's face as it morphed from smug to terrified in an instant. "Yes. I do. If I thought his wretched attempts at exercising authority would return my, our rather, powers, I would promise not to hurt him, too badly."

"Well, maybe I should invite the PTA here again after all?" she teased. "You know — all those "gossiping girlies" on board your ship? I could do that — that might bring your powers back!"

"You wouldn't dare, really, would you?" he asked, looking at her twinkling green eyes. "I don't think I could bear that idea."

"I might," she smiled.

"But — you promised you would never take advantage like that again?" he questioned, not quite sure if the woman he loved was serious.

A tiny smile played at the corners of her mouth. "Well, to be honest, I did cross my fingers seven years ago when you made me promise." Daniel's face clouded. "But..." she went on blithely, "...I don't think I could take all the gossipy girls and overstuffed ladies, either. But, given the right opportunity, I can think of a way or two I'd take advantage of you, kind sir."

"Why, Mrs. Muir..." he purred. "Now that is a promise you need to cross your heart on! No, on second thought, you don't need to. Believe me; I have every intention of taking you up on it!"

"Oh, I certainly hope so..." she whispered back, wishing she could start keeping the promise at that moment.

"I love you, Carolyn," he said softly, his voice caressing her ear.

"And I, you," she sighed.

A timeless moment hung between them. By all that was fair, the wretched boat would have sailed away to let them share the potential kiss they both longed to have. But, as seconds passed, it became apparent that life was not fair at all.

Finally, Daniel tore his eyes away from her lovely face, and strode to the far corner of the walk.

"So what is the battle plan for the day, my dear?" he asked. "We can't just stand around, putting everyone's life on hold."

"I thought breakfast would be a good start," she smiled.

Daniel leaned on the rail. "Though it is a far less promise, I would appreciate one more."

"Anything within my ability."

"If my powers— "

"Ahem. WHEN," Carolyn corrected.

"Aye, when... my powers return, I want pancakes or waffles that first morning. Or evening. Breakfast is good at night as well."

"I'm not the cook, a fact you can be thankful for," Carolyn grinned. "But, I am certain that Martha, Candy, and Jenny would all be glad to get up at midnight to make you anything to celebrate."

"I won't ask that of them," Daniel forced a laugh. "Especially Martha."

"I bet she won't even yell at Tris for a day or two if he wants to dance on the ceiling."

"I won't bet on that," Daniel said. "The odds would not be in my favor."

"You have a point, there," she said, stepping closer to him. "Daniel, this is just going to be a... longer siege, that's all. The ship is just becalmed... stuck in the doldrums at the moment. You said it happened to you, for real, any number of times throughout your career at sea. Sooner or later it will leave, and we can dance and party the night away. For a week, if you want."

"And in the meantime?"

"Well, I was thinking breakfast, and then I don't know what Sean, Dash and Tris have planned. They're big ghosts. They'll think of something. But I could your help on a story I was thinking about."

"Really? Or are you just trying to distract me?"

"Really," she nodded.

"Really? Which?"

"I refuse to answer that before my coffee," she grinned. "But I really do need your help, so, please?"

The ghost searched her face with his eyes, and then relented. "Very well. Even if this is a ruse, not only do I find it difficult to refuse you a thing when you look at me like that, my dear, but your writing is enjoyable. Besides, someone has to keep your nautical terms in proper order."

"I still need coaching, occasionally," she smiled indulgently.

XXX

When they reached the kitchen, Carolyn and Daniel found that all three kids had already left for school, as they were all on the early-morning schedule. Sean was manning the toaster, Dash pouring coffee, and Tristan toting things to the table.

"I still say it is wavering. It'll leave any moment now. I FELT something like it was trying to go away yesterday. Another moment and I could have popped," Dash was insisting.

"You just felt it because you were surrounded by the family," Tristan sighed, stopping in his tracks. "I know I feel better when I'm—" He paused to acknowledge the Captain and his lady with a grin, "—stronger when everyone is here. And we were all there."

"I know they were, but the power increased."

"We have been trying to regain a measure of control. Practice must have kicked in," Sean shook his head. "Now, look, standing there with Carrie, doesn't Danny look more like himself? Aye, he does."

"I wasn't around someone I'm in love with," Dash snapped. "Blast it, is being hopeful a crime?"

"No, but being unrealistic is," Daniel sighed. "Believe me, if that blasted scow were getting ready to leave, I think as an intangible ghost, and the only one of us four, may I point out, I would have felt it first — felt something! But there was nothing. Not then, not last night, not now. Nothing at all."

"I must admit, Danny, I did think the Vulture would have cast off by now and left us alone," Sean drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "This is all blasted irritating. Why he just... go? Bother someone else? He's throwing a monkey-wrench into everyone's plans."

"Aye," Dash nodded. "Which reminds me, I need to call Adam. See if he has made a visit to my house lately. My blasted relatives would love to take advantage of this situation, I'm sure. Not that I don't trust Adam to be careful, and all that, but still..." He broke off, shaking his head.

Forcing a smile, Dash handed Carolyn a cup. "I estimated your time of arrival correctly, it would seem. I'll be right back."

So saying, he strode out of the room. Grimly, he picked up the phone and dialed. On the seventh ring, Adam answered.

"Adam, Dashire here," the ghost called with a cheer he did not feel. "Have you had a chance to bolt my door yet?"

"Your Lordship, it is... six-thirty-one... A.M.! I had planned to sleep another fifteen minutes. I have locked your door, and windows, and any other possible entry except the chimney."

"Have you considered a restraining order?" Dash persisted.

"I need grounds for one, and telling the judge that there's a ghost ship lurking in the harbor of Schooner Bay would only be grounds for locking ME up, not your house. Furthermore, sir, might I ask how they would know it was there? I have watched and read the news. There was not an announcement of the Sea Vulture's arrival on the television, radio, or newspaper."

"No need to get snippy, Mister Pierce," Dash said, a distinct edge coming to his voice. "I merely want my property protected. I don't want what happened twenty-one years ago to happen again. I won't stand for it, I tell you!"

Adam sighed through the phone. "Lord Dashire, I promise you, as a verified and trusted employee, and a long time friend, I won't let that happen, and if it takes posting a guard there I will, but to be honest, I have seen no sign that your blasted relatives have been near the place! Tell me, do you have no faith in me, or my abilities to protect you? I must say my feelings are hurt. I thought you trusted me more!"

Dash clenched his fist. "Adam, you I trust with my life, so to speak. It's those — those — relatives," he spat, making the word sound like the vilest of curses, "that I do not trust as far as — as Claymore could throw one of them."

"But you do trust ME, do you not?" Adam asked, his voice a little calmer. "You trusted me well enough six years ago to defend Daniel Gregg posthumously of murder, if the case arose, right?"

"Yes, I did," Dash admitted.

"Then trust me now. I am not going to let anything happen to your house."

"Maybe it would be better if you could move in there? Just until my powers come back."

There was a long, exasperated pause. "There are one or two problems with that idea, Dash. First, there is no water. Two, there is no gas. Three, there is no power..."

"Couldn't you use a different phrase?"

"No electricity, then. Since my needs are quite human, I would be in a rather tight spot. Moreover, I have to go to work, leaving the place vacant for hours. Finally, someone moving into your house would doubtlessly alert anyone who was keeping an eye on activity there that something was up."

"You have a point, but, blast it, what CAN you do? I want my place protected, and I cannot leave here until my powers return!"

"I know that, Lord Dashire, but I can't be two places at once. Blast it, not even a ghost can do that. If you have any ideas — reasonable ones, I am willing to do anything I can to help you — not because you pay me a retainer, but because you are part of my... family. All of you in Schooner Bay are."

Visibly calming, Dash exhaled slowly. "As are you, in the best sense of the word. I don't suppose there's some legal way to disinherit the entire lot of my — relatives — and adopt this crew and you officially?"

Sensing the crisis pass and his fifteen minutes hopelessly shot, Adam chuckled. "I fear not. However, I'll gladly consider myself adopted by the lot of you. How are you all holding up? Does Carolyn need anything from Skeldale? I could run it out sometime today."

"Not that I know of. Daniel and I are frustrated. Sean seems calm, for the most part. Tris is holding together well. Claymore knows, though."

"Ah. Problems?"

"Amazingly, no."

"That is definitely amazing. Would you all like some company tonight? TV is incredibly boring, for the most part. Not much entertainment there. Too bad we can't have movies pumped into the television. That would keep you all busy, for a few days at least."

"Lovely thought, but no," Dash smiled in spite of himself. "Besides, I don't think that would keep us occupied for long. I have a limited tolerance for the thing. You could come out, for a while, if you are sure my house is secure as it can be. Maybe we can play bridge or something."

"I never learned the game. How about poker?"

"Now you're speaking my language. Poker it is."

"I'll see you as soon as I can escape from work. Now, I need to hustle. If the boss is late, he gets the evil-eye from his secretary who has never, ever once in her long life been late for anything, and who will remind me that not only was my father never late, but my grandfather was not either. And young Mr. Timothy would not have been."

Laughing, Dash hung up the phone and returned to the kitchen to announce they would have company that evening.

"Marvelous," Daniel rubbed his hands together. "Great idea, Dash. Poker is something I know, solid or intangible."

"Agreed," Sean nodded. "It's been ages since we got together for a good game, even in ghost time. Maybe we won't even have to wait seven years for another one!"

"Are women invited to play?" Carolyn asked, anticipating their answer.

"YOU know how to play?" Daniel exclaimed. "Madam, I had no idea!"

"Because it's not something a "lady" is supposed to know how to do?" Carolyn queried, her eyebrows shooting up. "Well, I do. Dad showed me the basics years ago. He said he needed a good partner, and Mom was terrible at it. I suppose if HE thought it would be okay if I learned than it's all right, right? Then I pretty much perfected my game in college. One doesn't have a date every night. The other girls and I got together in the dorm and played. It was more fun than pinochle. It was sort of a rotating game, really." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Now let's see — there will be you, Dash, Sean, Tris, Adam — you don't have any limit on the number that can play, do you?"

"I suppose not, especially since it's not a formal game," Daniel allowed.

"Well, good, because if you were going to fuss, I was going to get peeved, because I know you are more liberated than that," Carolyn grinned. "Especially after nine years of knowing you."

"Madam, I could never fuss at you over something as trivial as poker."

"And you don't think I am going to win and will get discouraged, right?"

Sean smiled into his coffee cup. "My dear friend, she knows you too well."

"And he's wrong, to boot," Carolyn added. "But I do think if we are going to enjoy ourselves tonight, I need to get busy, and Daniel you promised to help me, so..."

"So you need breakfast," Daniel said.

"Toast and coffee? Sure."

"Madam, will you never eat a proper breakfast?"

"Not your version, no. Claymore has told me what you think breakfast is."

"My dear, that was for his benefit. I would never subject you to that fare."

"I see." Carolyn looked about the kitchen. "Sean... Dash... Tris... What are your plans?"

"We're going to get this place shipshape and Bristol fashion," Sean said.

"Not that there's anything wrong with the way Martha does things," Dash hastily added.

"But, it might be nice to change things up, just a little. Rearrange the furniture. Flip the mattresses. Give the place a good wax. Maybe..." Tris began ticking items off until he was interrupted.

"Whoa, guys. I like the furniture the way it is," Carolyn protested.

"Really? I was thinking maybe just the living room," Tris cut in. "I've wanted to see what that couch would look like against the other wall, and really, they say it's good for a room to get shaken up, every once in a while, and..."

Daniel's face began to darken, and Carolyn interrupted up again, hastily.

"I've tried that a few years ago, I believe I told you that," she said, gently, understanding the young man's enthusiasm. "But I would really rather you not. I like the living room — the arrangement of the whole house the way it is. But I'll take you up on the other things — cleaning, I mean, and I think Martha, Candy, Jonathan and Jenny would appreciate it, also. I just don't want you wearing yourself out."

"Told you so," Sean smirked. "We will not drain ourselves, Carrie. We're just restless."

"I know," she smiled. "Just don't get carried away while I am otherwise distracted, all right?"

"Aye-aye, Admiral," the ghosts chorused.

XXX

By nine that evening, it was clear that the three ghosts had not obeyed the lady of Gull Cottage. Adam had shown up at five-thirty, ready for a killer poker match, and to all the men's astonishment, Carolyn could have given it to him. Unfortunately, Dash, Sean, and Tristan were yawning, blinking, and out of sorts. Whether the latter was from the Sea Vulture, exertion, or being disgruntled over losing to a woman was left to speculation. Perhaps it was all three. Daniel was not tired, but it did take all his concentration to hold the cards.

When Martha arrived Tuesday morning, Daniel was in a foul mood and his crew was listless.

"Well, you three did a good job yesterday," she noted. "I barely have anything left to do. Thanks, but I'd rather have more to do and you lot more cheerful."

Dash sighed, and considered whether to try and come up with some sort of blarney about if she was around more, he would be much happier and so on and so forth, but he would be lying. He wanted his powers back and to go home before those wretched people vandalized it.

"We just wanted to help," Dash settled on saying.

Daniel muttered something about feeling useless, and then fell silent before yelling, "BLAST IT! He's back!"

"I didn't think the Dutchman had gone?" Martha frowned, trying to still Scruffy, who was yapping in response to the shout.

"He hasn't," Sean scowled.

"So, how can he be back?"

"Not him, Claymore," Daniel snapped.

"Don't bite my head off," Martha retorted.

Carolyn came downstairs. "What's the yelling about?"

"Claymore's back," Tristan said sadly as Martha let the landlord in.

"Hello, all," Claymore said. "Is it still — oh — yeah, I can see that it is."

"What can we do for you, Claymore?" Carolyn asked.

"Well, I've been doing some research — on — on how to get rid of it. Now, I can't find anything about banishing THAT boat specifically, but have you considered Madame Tibaldi? Or some other medium?"

"I knew it — you ARE up to something. You want to get rid of me, again," Daniel stalked over to his 'nephew.' Claymore retreated behind Carolyn.

"No, no, no! Really! I just want to exorcize the boat. The Vulture! Okay, okay, no mediums. How about a ghost hunter like— "

"No!" Carolyn, Martha, and Daniel yelled.

Claymore sighed. "Well, all that I've read says the best way to get rid of a ghost is to not have any negative emotions, like fear, or anger."

"Well, we aren't afraid of the thing," Sean said. "But asking us not to be angry, now that's just too much."

"Or you could tell it to go away, in a firm voice," Claymore went on doggedly. He edged from behind Mrs. Muir, gingerly, to take a seat.

"Now, why haven't we thought of that?" Tristan asked sarcastically.

"I get why he..." Claymore pointed at his 'uncle.' "...Is grumpy, but you three spend a lot of time solid, so what's the big deal?"

"There's aspects of our existence that are curtailed," Dash said. "And, we are bored."

"Well, I've got some filing that you could help with, maybe..."

Daniel growled inarticulately. He remembered Claymore's files.

Tristan chuckled dryly without humor. "I could suggest someone, if he's still on this plane, who'd LOVE to."

"Oh? Really?" Claymore perked up a little.

"Trust me, Clay," the youngest ghost said, "the drawbacks outweigh the positive aspects by far! Besides, I doubt he's still around, and would have no idea how to find him."

"Who?" Carolyn asked.

"Someone I grew up with," Tristan replied.

For some reason, Sean's expression darkened to one of mingled anger and sorrow.

"Well," Claymore said uncertainly. "I'll keep looking. Maybe there's something, somewhere about how to get rid of the Vulture. Or those breezes will — you know — blow." He flapped his hands as if trying to stir up a wind.

After a few more moments, Claymore exited as gracefully as he could ever manage.

"I think I need to call Adam again," Dash frowned.

"Why?" Sean asked, his tone indicating that his patience was frayed.

"Seeing Claymore reminds me that my relatives could be doing anything at all."

"Oh, for pity's sake, leave the man alone! Pesterin' him will just make him mad," Sean advised.

"Besides, your show is coming on," Tristan added.

"What are you talking about?" Dash frowned.

"All My Children," the boy said innocently. "I noticed you seemed quite interested in it yesterday."

"What?"

"Well, you did ask, twice, why Erica was yelling," Daniel answered.

"For pity's sake. I wouldn't have even noticed it, if someone hadn't filled in the entire crossword. And, that woman's screech is quite loud."

"All of you cool it!" Martha barked. "I'm going to go fix lunch. Who wants what?"

XXX

The afternoon dragged on. Every few minutes, Tristan glared at the clock, as if trying to will time to obey him.

"What are you waiting on?" Martha asked. "A train?"

"No," he said, but didn't clarify. "It's just — well — it feels like there's more — power when the kids are here. Sort of."

Carolyn's coffee mug quivered slightly in response to the burst of annoyance from Daniel, in full overprotective surrogate father mode. He was, after all, a super-spirit.

"You're just as bad, Danny," Dash snapped. "You barely move ten feet from Carolyn."

"I do not! Madam, am I bothering you?" the Captain asked.

"No. I understand," Carolyn broke off. "I need to get some work done, guys. If you need me, I'll be in the Master... my room." Flustered by the tension between the 'musketeers,' she hurried from the room.

The four men glared. "Come on, Dash, let's not begrudge them the extra energy being in love gives them," Sean sighed. "If I... well..."

"I didn't say that! That was why I..." Tristan exclaimed. "Blast it, how would you feel if you were stuck at nineteen for all eternity unable to change faces? This is all well and good now, but three years or so — and I'll have to give her up, probably leave because everyone will see that I'm not aging. And I'll be a wanderer, a vagabond upon the earth, only I don't dare leave Schooner Bay or I'll wind up in limbo!"

"You are hardly Cain," Daniel said. "At least you have the ability to touch — to a certain extent. But Carolyn is a beautiful woman. She won't want to be with a shade forever."

"At least none of you is worried about having thieving relatives turn your home into..." Dash retorted.

"Not the mini-mall, bed and breakfast speech again!" Tristan moaned. "I'm going to go wash Scruffy." On that note, he rose and stalked out of the room.

Martha was coming in as he walked out. "What's with him? No, I don't want to know. Look, there's really nothing for me to do here, so I'm heading home. Try to get better attitudes before I come back."

The three ghosts looked rather ashamed of themselves.

"Look, Dash," Sean said reluctantly, "I — was planning on leaving, to look for Molly. I feel like she's lost and needs me. This is the first glimmer I've ever had in ages, if ever. I can't feel it anymore, not since that blasted bird flew into town. It's making me nuts."

"It's making us all idiots," Dash sighed. "I know Adam is the best blasted lawyer I've ever had. I shouldn't be doubting him."

"And if your relatives get past him," Daniel said, "you have a home with me. If you can stand this place when you have a choice about being here. All of you do."

"And you don't need to worry about the boy, Danny," Sean advised. "He's a good lad. And Dash and I could kill him for you if he wasn't."

"I know. I'm just envious that he can at least hold Candy's hand, and I can't so much as do that for Carolyn." He frowned. "If she'd even want to be anywhere near me, the way I've been acting, that is."

"She loves you," Dash said. "No matter how surly or intangible you are."

"This can't last forever," Sean said. "Surely at the beginning of the Dutchman's year, September, the Vulture will go away."

Daniel frowned. "Don't most years begin in January, Sean?"

"Yes, but I believe the Dutchman is operating on a — fiscal year. You said the last time the thing showed up in Schooner Bay was in September, 1970 — and it was due seven years later — last September. If we reckoned from January, and it did not show up last year, but this year, then it must run on a different twelve-month schedule. As I said, September was the month in which you last saw it; therefore, it seems reasonable that September is its first month. Perhaps it was even in September that the Dutchman spoke his curse."

"Five months of this?" Daniel shook his head. "We'll all forget how to be ghosts. We'll be worse off than Applegate."

"Fontenot would give us booster lessons, or whatever you'd call them," Dash said. "Now, if you two will excuse me, I think I want to take a walk on the beach. I am sorry for being so..."

"So'm I," Sean said morosely.

"As am I," Daniel nodded, then exited to patrol the widow's-walk. He watched the kids come home from there.

XXX

Dinner was a fairly silent, tense affair. When it ended, the ghosts offered to do the dishes again, freeing Jonathan and Candy to do their homework and Jenny to work on a project for one of her classes. Daniel found Carolyn reading by herself in the Master Cabin.

"Madam," he began, "I... do not often apologize, but feel that it is perhaps time that I do so, to you. I have not been myself, of late." Carolyn stopped reading, silently regarding him. "It — that is — I fear that should this condition linger, I will lose you, and that is intolerable. I envy my crewmen for having what I have become used to possessing, and hate being the weakest member of this crew, this family. It has made my temper short and my mood dismal. If you would forgive me, I would be grateful."

Carolyn rose. "Only if you will start calling me by my name again, and stop doubting my love for you. I fell in love with you when I didn't know if you would ever be truly touchable. Having that was a gift, but having you in my life, in any form, is more of one."

Daniel reached out, but his hand passed through her. "If fate were kind…"

"It will be." Carolyn smiled. "The best apology for last, I see."

"Last?"

"Sean, Dash, and Tris all profusely apologized this afternoon."

"Good. I won't have to order them to."

"You can't order an apology, Daniel, not and have it mean anything."

"You've done it when the children fought."

"True, but they were children. You four men... YES, men, are adults, and beyond."

"Yes, I know..." He gazed at her fondly. "But you must admit, this is a blasting situation, at best."

"That's what you said about your picture being on the Yankee Skipper Canned Chowder can," she smiled. "I freely admit, this current situation is somewhat worse, but Daniel, it's still temporary! True, we don't know how long the Vulture will be here, but we do know eventually he will leave, and everything will be back to normal!"

"True," the spirit sighed, sitting on the leather sofa, and signaling for her to move from her chair and sit in the other spot next to him. "But this whole situation has reminded me, quite vividly of how tenuous our... situation really is... even after six years."

"You're having doubts about us?" Her eyebrows arched.

"No, love, not us, never us. Just the current state of affairs."

"Meaning?"

"I have GOT to figure out some way to secure permanent future with you... if I am ever able to truly court you."

"Daniel, you HAVE courted me! In all the best ways! You HAVE my heart!" she protested, but the seaman held up a hand, motioning her to stop.

"But, my darling, when the Dutchman isn't around, I can be with you, touch you, embrace you, kiss you, show you in every way how I feel, but I still can't be a true partner to you, in some ways, because I am not a legal person."

"I told you, once, but maybe I need to remind you, you are all the man I need or want, regardless WHAT your legality is."

"Please, let me finish..." he said, and doggedly, the ghost went on. "I've grown used to the best parts of our... relationship, and forgotten what it was like before we could touch... and you know what they say — you miss and appreciate more what you can't have when it has been taken away from you! Carolyn, what if the Dutchman takes away my ability to touch you... forever?" He stopped for a moment, just looking at her, and Carolyn could see that the fear in his eyes was genuine.

Carolyn reached out toward his cheek, stopping short because she knew she would meet only air, and let her hand drop slowly to where she was almost, but not quite touching his leg.

"I've grown used to our relationship, too," she said softly. "And I have every faith that when the Dutchman leaves, that we will be back on the same course we have been — and Dash, Sean, and Tris, too, but, my love, even if there is a... change... I'm convinced we will weather the storm."

"How can you be so sure?" he asked softly, looking into her green eyes, once more.

"Because we've come this far, Daniel," she answered simply. "We're soul-mates, and meant to be and I have every faith that regardless what happens, things will work out the way they should, because we love each other."

"Aye, but..."

"No buts. Have you ever heard the saying, Love, like a river, will cut a new path whenever it meets an obstacle?"

"I... I'm not sure."

"Well I have. I can't remember who said it, but it's certainly been true for us so far! I mean, consider! You are a spirit... no, a super-spirit, and a nineteenth-century man. If all things were normal, you would have lived your life and died, either when you did, or at a ripe old age and we would have never met. Instead, you died, you haunted Gull Cottage for almost a hundred years, I moved here from Philadelphia, in spite of everyone I knew giving me twenty good reasons why I shouldn't. We met, we learned to know each other, we fought, and we made up. We fell in love in spite both of us knowing we faced tremendous obstacles — blast it, Daniel, you even made me forget you and sent me away, and thanks to Claymore and Dash, we STILL ended up together as we were destined to be! Love found a way for us to be together once, so I refuse to believe that we are going to be stopped from being able to be together! There I said my piece. So now!"

The spirit gave her a long look, and then a thoughtful smile came to his face.

"You're right. We can weather this." Leaning as close to her as he dared, he gave her a look that very clearly said that there would be more to 'discuss' when all was normal again. "Anything else?" he asked, his voice tickling her ear.

"Yes. A few things."

"And they would be?"

"You need to remember another old saying my dad taught me..."

"Yes?"

"What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. That's Ralph Waldo Emerson, in case you are interested, and..."

"Yes, my darling?"

"Let Dash finish up my New York Times Crossword Puzzle book, and..."

"Yes..?"

"Take a walk with me after dinner?"

"To the ends of the earth."

XXX

With some wariness, the humans entered the kitchen Wednesday morning, but in contrast to the day before, the ghosts were all chipper. Too chipper. If a cross word even tried to escape one of their lips, it was bitten back. Even their normal teasing was curtailed.

"So," Carolyn began, after finishing a piece of toast and half a cup of coffee in relative silence. "I have some research to do at the Keystone library today, so I will be busy... the house is in wonderful shape — what all do you four have planned for today?"

"So much for washing the car," Tristan sighed.

"Sorry, but I can't pop to Keystone, like you guys can... NORMALLY," she gulped. "Besides, even if you did wash it, it wouldn't take all day!" Carolyn looked around that the faces in front of her. "You aren't my staff, you know! I thought maybe you might want to do something... well, fun?"

"Like what?" Daniel sighed. "Blast. Long about dawn, I started thinking; maybe the sunrise would bring the end of this, but — no. The blasted garbage scow is still there! I'm beginning to wish I COULD storm it!"

"Well, we are sorely lacking weaponry," Dash noted. "Oh, I know, you've got a saber or two, but we'd need cannons, or something."

"Or some kind of ectoplasmic metal cutters," Tristan cocked his head. "If we dove down and sliced the anchor chain I'm starting to think it has..."

"I don't think those exist," Sean commented, looking up from the paper. "Why doesn't this thing come out more than once a week? I've memorized it. Er, sorry."

"And you all don't have to apologize if you aren't constantly practicing the power of positive thinking," she added.

"Someone needs to tell the author that it doesn't always work," Daniel said.

"I agree," Carolyn nodded. "Unless it is the addition of the phrase, 'I am thinking positively — I am positive that this won't work, or this is a bad situation,' but, please, all of you..." Her eyes went around the table, pausing on each man's face, finally resting on Daniel's. "Please, remember. This is TEMPORARY! You know it; you have all been through it — how many times since you died? Fourteen? Fifteen times? It will pass! Now I want you all to promise me. Go out and try to have fun today. Go fishing, collect driftwood, walk the beach, chart something, but... no storming the ship! We don't need a battle here. Sooner or later the winds will change."

"Actually, I tend to head inland every seven years," Tristan admitted. "This year, well, it never occurred to me; being here — made that not worth thinking on."

"And it doesn't hit the same ports every seven years," Sean elaborated.

"The winds still have to shift eventually," Carolyn insisted.

"I hope eventually gets here soon," Dash commented.

"As do we all, I'm sure. Well then, my dear," Daniel continued, giving Carolyn a fond look. "Perhaps you are right. A little fishing might be good for us today, and be productive at the same time... and certainly help keep the food bill down! What do you say, men?"

"Aye, Captain," was heard around the table, but Carolyn could still see traces of doubt and discontent in the seaman's eyes.

XXX

As Carolyn pulled up to the house that afternoon, the 'negative vibes' as Jonathan called them, hit her the moment she opened the front gate, and Jenny and Candy, not Daniel, hurried out to greet her, without saying a word. Carolyn rolled her eyes.

"Now what happened?" she asked, glancing toward the front door.

"They're all mad, again," Jenny sighed. "Tris let one of Captain Dad's favorite lures get eaten by a fish. Sean caught himself — got an ugly cut..."

"But he's okay," Candy said hurriedly. "One of the barbs went wild — I think one of the guys was trying to use his powers and it — happened. We doctored it with peroxide and Camphophenique."

"The Captain nearly lost his pole," Jenny went on. "He had gotten sort of solid, well, enough to hold a pole, and he — phased out accidentally, and just then, a fish grabbed the end..."

"So, Dash grabbed it, and got the fish in, but the thing flew up out of the water and hit him, so now he smells like fish," Candy couldn't help but snicker a little. "Especially after they all got home and cleaned their catch."

"And the three solid ones used all the hot water," Jenny put in. "And killed two bars of soap."

"And their jeans got a little bit shrunk in the wash," Candy winced. "Actually, in the dryer — but, Mom, they still look REAL good in them. They aren't happy though."

Mrs. Muir moaned. "Do you two want to get in the car? We could maybe escape."

"Nothing I'd like more," Jenny sighed. "But I have a project to finish and..."

"I have homework, too," Candy interrupted, "and Jon does..."

"And I suppose they are expecting me home, and you there," Carolyn sighed. "Well, blast. I still have some writing I should get done tonight — today just covered the research. Blast, I wish it didn't take all day to get to a library, do what I need to do and drive home. Encyclopedias, dictionaries, and syllabuses' are never enough. I want it all instant and at my fingertips!"

"Maybe one of these decades," Jenny grinned. "In the meantime, you need to get the Captain to do the long distance stuff... when his powers return, anyway."

"Right." Carolyn gazed at her 'daughters.' "Ready to help me face the madding crowd?"

"RE-face them, you mean," Candy laughed. "Sure. As long as they don't expect me to take sides! Right now I think it would be better to tell them all to stand in a corner."

"If only it were that easy!" Carolyn replied.

No one met the ladies as they entered the house, except Scruffy who gave them a 'why did you leave me with THEM' look.

"Well, so far, so good," Carolyn whispered. "I don't hear any shouting, or guns firing."

"Yeah, but you're only in the foyer," Jenny remarked. "I'm telling you. They're not happy campers at the moment."

"Living room?" Carolyn gestured.

"Or they are sulking somewhere else," Candy added. "Jon beat it upstairs. He's in his room."

"Forward, march," Carolyn whispered as they entered the room where the four seamen were in a hot discussion.

"I didn't exactly go out and coax the blasted fish to eat your lure!" Tristan snapped.

"Why did you use my favorite one?"

"It didn't have on a name tag. If I had known it was more than just another lure, I would have used another. Of course, that would have been the favorite then."

"Are you—?"

"Tristan — he is the Captain!" Sean shouted. "And quit sniffing your arm, Dash. The smell is off."

"Then why do I smell it still?"

"Because you are, and always will be a dandy when it comes to your appearance," Tris snapped. "Not that the way one looks isn't important, regardless WHAT your condition, but Dash, there are times..."

"Watch it, pup!"

"I am getting sick and tired of being reminded I am the youngest around here! I've been a ghost longer that you have, and I have learned a few things, and I am telling you, YOU DON'T SMELL!"

"How would you know?" Daniel cut in, "The smell is on you too! Blast it, it's all over the house!"

"Where did you expect us to clean the fish?" Sean interrupted. "The cellar?"

Candy's lips twitched. She pressed them together; trying to hold back a giggle as she thought, DO NOT even mention the cellar. We might send you ALL there. One choked breath broke free, causing Daniel, Tristan, Dash, and then Sean to whirl to see what it was.

Their expressions were almost priceless, like children caught in mischief.

"Madam, we were just..."

"Ah, hello, Carrie, girls..."

"Ladies. I would come greet you, but — ah — ahem..."

"Candy, hi. Hello, Mrs. Muir. Jenny. Er — Scruffy."

Very deliberately, Carolyn put her thumb and middle finger to either side of her mouth and let out the loudest whistle Daniel and his crew had ever heard.

"NOW HEAR THIS!!! ATTENTION!!!" she shouted.

In spite of themselves, the ghosts jumped up, stood straight, and were entirely still.

"This is... appalling! Yes, I know, it's hard on all of you being without powers, but you are making it worse than it has to be! It IS NOT forever! What the real curse is, is having you all so angry with each other! Daniel, I'm sure that Tristan did not deliberately lose your fishing lure. And Tristan, you always will be youngest. There are good points to that. I'm sure you can think of one or two. If you try, that is. Sean, I know this is hard, but — get a grip." She paused. It was hard to figure out WHY Sean was so upset. He wasn't as vocal at the other three. "And Dash, you do not smell. Now, I'm tired and want to — soak in a nice bath before dinner, so if you will all excuse me..."

"Ah, there's a wee problem with that, Carrie," Sean said. "The hot water hasn't had time to replenish."

"Just as well," she retorted. "I'll take a lukewarm one, and see if I can cool off! Too bad you can't all take a cold one and do the same!" She glanced around the room. "Now, I suggest you all straighten yourselves out, adjust your tempers, and remember you are friends, and what you have all gone through together!" She started toward the stairs, but Daniel called after her.

"Carolyn, I..."

"I know..." She surveyed the four ghosts. "You all didn't mean it. I know that, but I can't take much more of this right now." She turned to Candy and Jenny. "I'll come down and get something for dinner later — maybe. Right now I want to rest, and relax, and get my bearings. I'll be back down when I darn well feel like it."

The two girls glanced at each other.

"Right, Mom — Cousin Mom," they chorused.

Carolyn turned on her heel and headed for the stairs, the men staring after her. Dash let out a low whistle.

"Heavens, was she ever angry!"

"She's not the only one!" Candy snapped. Seeing their looks, ranging from stricken to shame, she softened a hair, but only that much, though. "I love you all, but right, now, I don't really LIKE any of you!" On that note, she stomped toward the kitchen. Jenny settled for glaring before following Candy.

"We'll be lucky to not be poisoned," Tristan commented.

"Aye," Sean nodded. "A good thing we're dead already." He looked at his commanding officer. "So... what do you think? Do we go up and apologize to Carrie now?"

Daniel shook his head. "Not yet, lads. She needs to calm down, and quite frankly, I need some time to myself. We've all been thrown together too much in too small a quarters, of late. Even on shipboard, we had more room." He paused. "You all go... do whatever you wish. I have sea charts to update. And logs, and..."

"Seems like they always need doing," Tris commented, softly. "Aye, well, you have a point, sir. I think I will go make myself useful and wash Scruffy or something, and..."

With a "Yipe," the terrier was off like a shot. If they could have heard what the dog was thinking, it might have been something like a prayer that the Vulture would go before he grew gills from his frequent washings.

"I think you better find something else to launder, Tris," Sean smiled. "The car, maybe. You wanted to do that this morning. For myself, I think I will take a walk. I have a bit of thinking to do."

"Aye," Daniel nodded. "Later, my... friends." So saying, he slowly dematerialized.

"I think I will go see if that side trellis needs fixing," Dash added, and headed for the door.

XXX

All was quiet for two hours, at which point Candy called the men for dinner. Carolyn stayed in her room, much to the seaman's chagrin. Candy, Jon and Jenny did their best to make conversation, but dinner was consumed rapidly, and nobody wanted dessert. Not even Jon.

Upstairs, Carolyn spent a long time staring at a blank sheet of paper in her typewriter. She couldn't think, not about work, just the ghosts. Blast it and them. She hated seeing them so miserable, and so angry with each other. There was barely anything in the house that didn't remind her of how it ought to be. Even her typewriter. The one Daniel had given her. She still recalled his elaborate presentation.

She typed a few words, and then looked at them. Rubbish. Annoyed with herself, she jerked open a drawer to get more paper, but it was the wrong drawer. Inside this one were some unfiled treasures. It had been a long time since she updated her scrapbooks. Since she wasn't getting anything done, Carolyn took the items, laid them out on the bed, and pulled her collection of albums out of Jon's old sea trunk so she could find the right space for these additions. Reliving happier days, Carolyn let time slip away from her.

An hour later, in the midst of cutting and taping her memorabilia, she was startled by a soft knock at the Master Cabin door.

"If that is a ghost..." she started, tiredly, "... go away. I don't want to talk to anyone yet. I'm just starting to get in a good mood."

"It's not a ghost, Cousin Mom, it's me, Jenny. Can I come in?"

"Of course."

Timidly, the brunette entered the room, startled at seeing the books, papers and other items spread out all over the double bed.

"Hi, there. Dishes are done. The guys have stalked off to their corners, but I think things are calmer. I think they really got the message this time. Aren't you hungry? Can I bring you a tray?" Carolyn shook her head.

"No — really, I'm okay. I grabbed a hamburger on the way home."

Jenny broke into a smile.

"Ah ha! I was wondering why you weren't starving! Not like you to skip dinner, at least!" She looked at the things scattered all over the bed. "I thought you were working. What are you doing? What is all this?"

Carolyn's lips curved a little. "Just my scrapbook collection. I've had one for years — including our lives here at Gull Cottage." Reading the girl's expression, she invited, "C'mon, have a look."

Jenny took a seat amid the chaos, careful not to squish a treasure. With interest, she skimmed a journal entry here, a photo page there. Some of it, she did remember experiencing or hearing about. There was the Beacon front page retracting a hundred-year-old suicide report on the Captain, another article on the skeleton found in Gull Cottage. The words of a song, a photo of Candy and Tristan decked out for the dance a short time ago, a love letter posthumously written to Vanessa Hamilton, and a sale postcard addressed to Mrs. Carolyn Muir.

When she reached a wilted balloon, a card with two lovers walking along the beach at twilight, and a darning needle, big enough to hold yarn, Jenny looked up. "I though Eyeore was the only one who kept dead balloons... and I've never seen you knit."

"Oh, I don't," Carolyn smiled. "That darning needle was Martha's. But there is a lovely story attached to those items, if you would like to hear it."

"I'd love to," Jenny smiled. "Anything to get away from the tension downstairs."

"Well, it was..." Carolyn started, and then another knock came at the door. Jenny rolled her eyes this time.

"I hope you don't mind me saying so, but I hope that's not one of the guys."

"Mom?" Candy's voice could be heard on the other side. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Jonathan's voice chimed in. "Are we allowed to enter? We just want to see how you are. We won't stay long, if you don't want us to."

"That's all right," she smiled. "Come on in, you guys."

"So, you beat us, Cuz," Candy smiled at Jenny. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long," Jenny smiled back. "Looks like we all had the same idea." She gave an exasperated sigh. "Just how long is this going to go on?"

"Just until the celestial winds blow," Carolyn started. "And believe me, I want it just as much as you all do, but there is nothing we can do at the moment, so let's not start talking about it tonight. I'm just glad we are all in the same dinghy."

"Well, if you weren't talking about the guys, what were you doing?" Jon demanded.

"Just sorting... stuff," Carolyn answered. "It helps me think, and I was just... reliving happy times."

"Cousin Mom was just going to tell me about this balloon and needle," Jenny added, pointing to the page in the scrapbook.

Candy grinned, Jon following suit.

"Mom!" Candy exclaimed. "You really do keep everything, don't you?"

"I can't say I blame you on that one," Jon added. "I remember that day. It was cool!"

"What was?" Jenny cut in.

"What Captain Dad did for Mom that Valentine's Day," Candy answered. "When was it, Mom? You need to tell Jenny the story."

"Nineteen seventy-three," the Lady of Gull Cottage answered. "And yes, we do!"

Carolyn started, telling how she and the Captain had agreed to not get too fussy over Valentine's Day, but she had been rather blue as the holiday wore on, especially after listening to Margaret Coburn ramble on about what glorious plans she had insisted on Mr. Coburn concocting. So, when she arrived at home, she'd needed cheering up, and Daniel really had gone all out to do so. A smile blossomed on her face as she recounted the treasure hunt among the balloons.

"That was so much fun, except for Jon and me standing out on the balcony freezing!" Candy grinned. "I don't think I've ever heard Captain Dad laugh like he did when he saw Mom's face. The planning was as much fun as the final result. We all worked on it! Martha, the Captain, Jon, Uncle Sean, Uncle Dash, Tristan. The balloons were Tris' idea, but Captain Dad thought of having so MANY of them."

"It wasn't that cold, Sis," Jonathan contradicted. "But, yeah, it was fun." He sighed. "No one's laughed much around here, lately." He kicked his feet disconsolately. "You know, that wasn't the first treasure hunt. There was the one when the Captain got Claymore to fix all that stuff around here, too."

"The Captain must like treasure hunts," Jenny said. Noticing a pensive look on Carolyn's face, she asked, "What, Cousin Mom?"

"Just thinking, the guys need something to cheer them up, and Daniel's birthday IS Friday, Sea Vulture or no Sea Vulture. Having a treasure hunt could kill multiple birds with one stone; it would be a fun way to celebrate his birthday, and give the other three something to do helping us get it together."

"Cool!" Jonathan exclaimed, and was echoed by the girls.

"Now, we just need to distract him so we can set it up," Carolyn said.

"Are we gonna do balloons again?" Jonathan asked. "I really wanted to use the air pump that time."

"No, I think more of a real hunt will be in order this time," his mother said. "We'll need the guys to help. Where are they all now?"

"Captain's working on his sea charts, in the wheelhouse," Jonathan replied. "At least I think he is. Either that, or he just wants to be alone for a while."

"Sean's reading in the alcove, Dash is playing solitaire in the kitchen, and Tris is on the front porch," Candy reported. "Last I saw anyway. I think they all want to make up, but don't know how. Or don't want to be the first one to."

"MEN," Carolyn sniffed. "Oh, sorry, Jonathan. Maybe it is only seamen that get so stubborn! It would be a shame to let something like the Sea Vulture break up a friendship of a hundred years standing, and more!" Resting her chin on her hands, she thought for a moment, and then looked at Candy. "Do you really think they would say "I'm sorry" if they were given an opening?"

"Yep," Candy nodded. "They're just bored, Mom, and they are all used to having their own way, sorta. You know who they remind me of?"

"Us..." Jon cut in. "Right, Candy? When we were kids. I was thinking they remind me of when you and I got sick that one time with the chicken pox, and had to be quarantined for a week, remember?"

"Yeah, and the only one that could get near us was the Captain, because he couldn't catch it," Candy grinned. "You and Martha hadn't even had it, Mom. He sure got sick of board games and cards!"

"And we got sick of each other," Jon nodded. "We almost took each other's heads off."

"But we did make up, before anything REALLY bad was said," Candy added swiftly. "So we have to get the guys to make up before we start plotting, so what do we do?"

"I'll tell you what..." Carolyn said, briskly. "I want each of you to go find a ghost. Tell them that I want to see them — they'll come up here if you do it that way. And whatever you do, don't let them see each other. You guys are great at conniving; you've already proven that! You get them up here, one at a time, don't let Daniel see you, and then we'll take it from there, okay?"

"Gotcha," Jenny nodded. "I'll take Sean."

"I'll take Tris," Candy added.

"Yeah, we know you can talk him into anything," Jon laughed, wincing as she lightly punched him in the arm. "That leaves me with Dash." He glanced at his 'sisters.' "Ready?"

"Charge!" And they were out the door.

Smiling, Carolyn began stowing her scrapbooks away, and thinking about the surprise to come.

XXX

"Hey, Tris," Candy called into the twilight.

He looked up, smiling tentatively. "Hi, Candy. Look, I'm sorry for being a wretch... I... this scares me, you know? So, I'm taking it out on the people I know, on some level, will forgive me."

"You've been sneaking into a psych class or two, huh?" she grinned back.

"Well... see, if I don't get my powers back, I'll have to find a way to PAY for a college education," he tossed off in mock lightness. "And, well..."

"You nut, I'd care about you even if you didn't have one power," Candy sighed, walking over to where he was perched on a lion, then reaching up, she ruffed his hair. "But, okay. All's forgiven. Uh — look, Mom wants to talk to you."

"Am I in trouble?"

"She didn't say that you were."

"Okay."

Candy extended one hand, which he took, and they walked into the house.

XXX

"Hey, there, Sean..." Jenny popped her head in the alcove doorway. "Are you going to hide in here all night?"

"It might be one way to stay out of trouble..." Sean looked woeful. "I'm not much fun to be around at the moment," he added. "I have other places I was hoping to be this last week, and nothing has worked out well in that department."

"There are weeks like that..." Jenny nodded. "... Even without Vultures, but this one has been a doozy, but staying all sequestered in here isn't going to solve anything."

"It keeps me from yelling at my three best friends, lass."

"Sean, the other guys yelled, and blew up over nothing... almost nothing, too. You're all equally responsible. No need for you to shoulder all the guilt."

The Irishman shrugged. "Jenny, this is all getting to me. I'm just so bored, and frustrated, I could punch someone, and I don't want to do that."

"No, you don't," Jenny nodded.

"I need to go up and talk to Danny," Sean said, rising.

"Uhm... before you do that, Cousin Mom wants to see you."

"Aye..." he sighed. "I owe her an apology, too. I suppose I should talk to her before I see Danny..." He snuck her a look. "Is Carrie terribly angry?"

"I didn't think she was when I talked to her a few minutes ago," Jenny shrugged. "I... I just think she wants to see how you are doing. Why don't you speak to her, and then you can go see the Captain, all right?"

"Very well," he sighed, following her out the door. "But I won't blame her if she banishes me to the widow's-walk for the night."

Jenny smiled. "Well, you might have to discuss THAT with the Captain."

XXX

Dash glared at the cards, not because Sol was winning, but because he wanted to make that ten float over and land on the Jack, without touching it. Come on, you blasted bit of PAPER, move!

"Uh — Dash?" a boy's uncertain voice broke into his concentration. "Are ya busy?"

Sighing, he looked up at Jonathan. "No, lad. Just trying to defy that buzzard and USE my blasted powers. To no avail. What can I do for you? Deal you in for a game of Spite and Malice? No, bad idea. There's an overabundance of that around lately, and I appear to play it far too well. Help with your homework? Anything?"

Jon shook his head. "No, sir. What's Spite and Malice?"

"Double Solitaire."

"Oh. If you aren't busy, Mom wants to see you."

"Hmm. Well, I've been trying, between failed efforts, to work up the nerve to apologize — when I find the right words. I suppose there's no time like the present."

"Uh, yeah. Well, just don't take her a parasol. That's not a good apology," Jon advised.

"I had heard something to that effect," Dash nodded, rising to follow the boy.

XXX

A half-hour later, three ghosts and four humans opened the door to the Master Cabin; their faces wreathed in smiles, and almost ran through Daniel Gregg who was just starting to knock on the door from the other side.

"And just what are you all up to?" he asked, his bushy eyebrows coming together. "What's the problem now? Why are you all here?"

Hastily, they all retreated into the bedroom again, Daniel following.

"Calm down," Sean advised gently.

Carolyn stepped over to the Captain, a smile on her face. "Making up. We're all back on the same — wavelength."

He smiled down at her. "Making up? Really? You weren't angry after all?"

"Oh, contraire, sir, I WAS angry, but that doesn't mean I have to stay angry, and I can't make it thunder, and since nobody else can at the moment either, we figured it would be a lot easier to accept that nobody is perfect. We all want the buzzard to fly away home, but since we can't do either, we thought we might go downstairs and raid the freezer for... for ice cream. Care to join us, my dear?"

"I am forgiven, too?" He looked around the room.

"Aye's" came from all sides.

Pulling his ear, the ghost said, "I'm not certain that I can join you in the ice cream, but I can keep you company."

"You have to think positive... Dad," Candy grinned, "Give it a try. Bet if you can sip wine, like a couple of nights ago, you can manage a teeny-tiny bite of ice cream now and then, and then we'll play Acey Deucy, okay?"

"And if you can't," Sean said with a wink, "I bet someone will finish it for you. You know, we might be the first ghosts to need EXERCISE."

"Long's it's not exORcize," Tristan grinned, as he draped an arm across Candy's shoulders.

Daniel noticed, but let it go.

XXX

Thursday dawned bright and clear, and... Breezeless. Still, on the strength of the new peace and the birthday plot, it was the best day they had experienced since the whole mess had begun. Of course, there was still some tension, and the ghosts took turns periodically checking the telescope, but all in all, life was on an even keel.

"Hey," Carolyn said, coming up to where Daniel was standing by the French doors in the master bedroom. "The guys say they all have their own business today, and..."

"And they don't really need company," the spirit sighed.

"Now you know that's not true," Carolyn smiled. "Tris is doing some research at the library today, Dash is helping Martha with something in town, and Sean has gone beach-combing. They aren't angry with you anymore! And you aren't with them, are you?"

"No... Of course not. I just thought they were still harboring..."

"Harboring, nothing. But I do need some help. I came up with a really interesting short story idea today, but I could use your assistance with some of the details. So could you spend today with me while I get an outline together and pick your brain?"

"My brain is ever at your disposal, my dear."

"Good, but I am looking forward to the rest of your magnificent self becoming that way, too," she laughed. "Marvelous. I'll go start a fresh pot of coffee, and we'll get to work."

XXX

The morning passed quickly. Carolyn stopped for a quick lunch at noon, and then it was right back to work. When the clock struck three, a first draft had been completed and human and spirit were ready to stop for a while. Both jumped when the front doorbell rang.

"Now, I wonder who that can be?" Carolyn queried, stretching her way to the bedroom door. "Sean, Tris and Dash would just come in, Candy, Jon and Jenny aren't due home for another hour, and Martha has a key. I don't THINK Claymore is due to come here for any reason, unless he..." She stopped herself from blurting out anything else. Dash had said he would handle telling various other mortals about plans. Surely Claymore wouldn't come out and spill the beans!

"Uh — I'll just go see who it is," Carolyn said hastily. Daniel nodded, fading from view.

She opened the door, forcing a cheerful smile onto her face for the benefit of whoever was out there.

"Hello—" she started to say, but was interrupted.

"What troubles you?" her visitor asked immediately.

Carolyn stepped back. "How did you know anything did, Fontenot?"

"Tension is palpable in the air, and there's an odd worry line right over your nose," the ghostly guru replied, matter-of-factly. He looked sharply over her shoulder. "And Daniel is normally more solid."

The widow turned to see that Daniel, sensing another spirit, had joined her at the door.

"Come on in, my friend," the Captain said. "It's quite the tale."

While Carolyn brewed their guest some tea, Daniel related the story behind the curse.

Fontenot shook his head. "I've never heard of such a thing. I wish I had known. I don't think I could get rid of the thing, but perhaps I could have helped out in some way. Not sure how, though."

"Since you mention it," Daniel said, pulling his ear, "would there be any benefit to the four of us having a refresher course in ghostliness? Perhaps we could get around the curse to an extent?"

By this time, Carolyn had returned and was trying to catch Fontenot's eye. Noticing this, he frowned slightly, not sure why the lady would object. Taking a sip of his tea, he replied slowly, "Perhaps. Ah, Mrs. Muir..."

"Carolyn," she reminded him.

"Carolyn... yes. Do you have any honey in the kitchen? I think I should like a drop in my tea."

"Well, yes, but it's a new jar, and I am not sure I can get the lid off. I meant to ask one of the guys one day this week, but, it slipped my mind."

"Well, perhaps I could trade you my arm for a bit of what's in the jar."

"Sounds like a deal."

So saying, the pair took off for the kitchen, leaving Daniel to feel as if he'd missed something.

As Carolyn handed the ghost the honey jar, he asked, "Now, is there any reason I should not give Daniel lessons?"

"Oh, no, just don't do it today," she whispered. "We're planning a surprise party for his birthday tomorrow, and kind of need him out of pocket."

"Ah, I see. Truthfully, Daniel's birthday was the other reason I popped by — checking on plans for the day, you know, but the closer I came to Gull Cottage, the more I knew something was amiss. Heavens, I haven't even mentioned his birthday yet! I'll be glad to help." The jar lid popped suddenly. "Well, so as not to be a liar," he went on, and poured only a drop into his mug.

Just then, the back door swung open. Dash entered, grinning. "Claymore is on board for tomorrow."

Sean followed him. "I've been out on the beach. Thing shows no sign of budging. Oh, hello, sir."

"Sean, Dash," the guru nodded. "I've just been pressed into service as well. Now, I suspect we'd best get on back in there."

"Where's Tris?" Carolyn asked.

"Down the beach a way, working on a song or something. Killing time until the kids get home," Dash winked.

"I see..." Fontenot nodded.

"See what?" Daniel asked as they came back into the living room. "What took so long?"

"Oh, nothing. Your lady just forgot where she put the jar for a moment, then I was saying hello to your shipmates."

"Good to see you two back," Daniel said, looking from Sean to Dash and back again. "Any sign of the blasted thing leaving?"

Sean shook his head. "Hasn't budged. I'm beginning to think it has no way to lift anchor."

"It's just being obstinate." He turned to his teacher. "So, Fontenot, do you think you might give us all a few lessons tonight?"

The guru shook his head.

"Sorry, old man. Tomorrow, yes, tonight, no. I have a ... date to keep."

"I thought we were why you came, sir."

"You were, partly, and also I wanted to wish you blessings of your day tomorrow, maybe come by for a glass of Madeira then, but tonight, I have plans."

"You could bring your friend here, if you like..." Daniel pressed slightly.

"I would, but crowds make her a bit nervous," Fontenot said, pointedly.

"Oh!" the seaman let out a slight exclamation. "I do beg your pardon. I wasn't prying into your personal affairs... Uhm, business, I assure you."

"No offense taken. That's why I am here. We're working on her problem. I am free tomorrow, however, say from about nine a.m. mortal time until mid-afternoon? I believe I can help you, Daniel, but I fear there is nothing much I can do with Dash, Sean and the boy while they are in a solid state."

The Captain frowned. "Mates, do you—?"

"We won't begrudge you a lesson or two, Danny," Dash said, waving away protests.

"Now, if this nonsense goes on much longer..." Sean started, "...I'm thinking that maybe we ought to give lessons a try in any case. All we could do is waste time, and we've certainly got that in abundance. Besides, if you learn anything to do while under the influence of the Sea Vulture, it's entirely possible we could learn from you if it happens again in seven years."

"Friend Sean has a point," Dash nodded. "Danny, you have to go — and pay strict attention, mind! We may need the information again, and..."

"Don't even say 'again'," Carolyn shuddered. "We aren't even through this bout yet!"

"Then, it's arranged," Fontenot said. "Daniel, tomorrow morning. I know it's your birthday, but I do think it's a good idea."

"I believe the general consensus is we don't worry about my birthday until the Vulture is gone," Daniel growled. "I don't feel like celebrating... much."

"Then I will see you tomorrow," Fontenot said, as he started to rise.

"Oh, wait, don't go yet!" Carolyn cried.

"Madam?"

"Candy, Jenny, and Jon... They'll be very upset if you don't at least say hello, if not stay for dinner... could your friend... wait? Just a tad? Tris should be back shortly, also."

"Somehow, I'm not sure the lad likes me much," Fontenot said, with a perplexed look.

Carolyn looked at the other ghosts. "Not a word of this beyond here."

"On our honor," Daniel nodded.

"He's slightly in awe of you, I think."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Fontenot sighed, "Why? I trust, if he gets to know me, that won't last. I'd be happy to stay a mite longer."

XXX

The "mite" lasted until after dinner. Candy, Jon and Jenny, as Carolyn predicted, were delighted to see the older ghost again, and after dinner, Jenny, having gotten up her nerve, asked the ghost if he could sit still long enough for her to do a quick sketch of his features, saying she needed a new face to work with. "The others have been around a lot lately," she said blushing, and they all grinned at that, for it was true. Finally, the older ghost took his leave, and Sean, Dash and Tris, after finishing the dishes for Carolyn, settled in to watch Hawaii Five-O. The young people headed for their rooms, mentioning homework and tests to study for.

"I don't see how you can watch such bilge," Daniel shook his head. "Keep this up and I won't be able to help you, even with a refresher course."

"Streets of San Francisco is on at nine," Tris pointed out. "Last week you wanted us to remind you — second half of that two-parter you wanted to see?"

"I can recognize quality," Daniel informed the young man.

"Just don't yell at the thing like some unnamed people," Sean drawled.

"The woman was being an idiot in the Showcase Showdown this morning. She overbid by a thousand dollars. If she'd listened to me — she'd have won both prizes instead of losing, miserably," Dash sniffed.

"Sounds to me like everyone is getting a little too attached to the tube," Carolyn grinned. "Me, I think I would rather write my own stories than get fascinated in other TV fiction, though I will admit from time to time I have caught myself wishing I could write a whole story for one of the shows I do like. Only problem is, it wouldn't fit with the rest of the storyline — be more like a fiction of its own using the same characters. I used to do the same thing with books when I was younger and just starting to think about being a writer — you know, what happened to Atticus, Scout and Jem in To Kill a Mockingbird, or Scarlett and Rhett in Gone with the Wind, or a new mystery and a girl for Ellery Queen. Too bad there's no real interest in things like that, or a place to publish that kind of fiction. Fiction about shows I really love."

"Fan-fiction?" Daniel smiled down at her.

"Good a word for it as any!" she smiled back. "Well, I think I'll go take a look at the one we started today to pay the light bill next month. That's just a bit more practical. Care to join me, Daniel?"

"I'd be delighted."

April 8, 1977

Carolyn woke the next morning to find her Captain standing in front of the French doors, facing the room, where he had been watching her sleep.

"Happy Birthday, Daniel," she said, blinking sleep from her eyes. "Do you feel older?"

"Not particularly, my dear." Tactfully, he turned his back to let her rise and pull on a robe.

Moments later, she joined him at the window. "I don't suppose you feel like a birthday kiss?"

Smiling down at his lady, the ghost said, "Of course I would like one, but I'm not sure I would — feel it."

"Could it hurt to try?"

"Not at all."

It was only the faintest sensation of their lips meeting, but it was more than they had been able to experience for days.

"Ah, now that's a wonderful start," she sighed softly. "Would you care to try that again, my love?"

"Indeed..." he purred. "Maybe, perhaps..."

A knock came at the bedroom door.

"Carolyn? Captain? Are you two in there?" It was Dash, Tris and Sean on the other side. They opened the door, carefully.

"Would it do any good to say we aren't?" Daniel sighed and pulled away from his lady.

"Uhm, well, no, now that you mention it," Tris voice came again. "It's just that..."

"Fontenot just got here," Dash cut in.

"And he seems to be in a hurry," Tris added. "But he looks happy."

Giving Carolyn a rueful look, Daniel brushed the top of her head with a butterfly kiss, once more. "Perhaps this endeavor will allow us more than phantom kisses."

"Let's hope," she agreed softly, then stepped toward the door. "Okay, guys, you can borrow him for a while. I'll be down as soon as I get something less comfortable on. Do I have hot water?"

"We were quite stinting in its use," Dash nodded.

"And we haven't had time to get dirty," Sean said.

"Great way to start a day," she grinned, and turned back to her ghost. "Daniel, I'll see you when..."

"...When I see you," he finished. "Some time this afternoon, probably. I'm sorry I can't be here to help you finish your story — provide a final edit? I must say, I do like this one enormously."

"High praise, sir," she said lightly. "You can read it tonight. Today is more important — for you. Now don't think about anything here. Better four hours away on your birthday, than two weeks, like the first time you trained with Fontenot! True?"

"VERY true," he smiled, and turned to his crew. "Lead on, friends, lead on," he added, then, brushing Carolyn's forehead with his lips once more, he vanished, and reappeared in the kitchen, where Fontenot was waiting for him. Ten minutes later, both ghosts and dematerialized from the kitchen to parts unknown.

Carolyn joined the ghosts a few minutes later. "Well, are we ready?"

"Aye, Admiral," Sean grinned. "Just waiting for himself to get out of here."

XXX

At three that afternoon, Daniel Gregg appeared in the master cabin with a slight 'pop.'

"Heavens!" Carolyn gasped. "You startled me..." She examined his face closely. "Daniel, are you all right?"

"If you mean am I solid, no, not quite." The ghost shook his head. "However I do have enough... oomph, as Candy says, to pick up where we left off earlier..." Leaning over her, she felt his lips brush hers with a bit more pressure than they had that morning.

"You ARE better!" she smiled.

"Aye. Are you ready for a break?"

"Maybe in about a half-hour," she answered. "After you left, I was plagued with interruptions. Mom called, she wanted to know how everyone was, and made a few veiled hints about my love life... Cousin Harriet called..."

"What did she want?"

"Just talk," Carolyn shrugged. "Nothing specific."

"How far are you behind? I was hoping we could take a walk."

"Only about forty-five minutes, really." She looked up at him. "I could use a fresh cup of coffee in my favorite cup. Sean said he had to wash it earlier."

"Industrious of him. Which cup?"

"My 'Beware, Genius Brewing' cup, of course. Darling, WILL you be a prince and get me a cup of coffee? I'll finish here, then I would love to spend the rest of the day with you, if you'd like."

"Very well," he answered, kissing her once more, lightly. "I'll hold you to that."

In a blink, he had disappeared, and reappeared in the kitchen, and had started looking around for the cup. He found it, turned upside down on the table. That in and of itself was odd. When he picked it up, he noticed an index card. Curious, he set the mug back down, then picked up the card.

Congratulations. As a reward for being born and for your kindness, good sir, you are entitled to claim a birthday gift from Sean O'Casey. The first step of your journey begins with ease, but the next will be harder. Return to your lady for the next clue. P.S. She really could use her coffee.

After reading the card one more time, Daniel poured the coffee and returned to the bedroom. Carolyn was smirking at him. "Daniel, just so you know, I wasn't fibbing, Mom and Harriet did call today, they just interrupted me from OTHER things, namely plotting with the guys. I see you found the card?"

"Yes," he agreed. "I believe you are to give me another clue?"

"And the rules. Scattered throughout the house are a collection of cards. Some entitle you to a gift and some are merely clues to a gift. When you have them all, then we can have your party. Now, your next clue is," she paused and took out another three by five piece of paper. "Dear Captain, to receive my gift, look in my favorite place. Happy Birthday, Seaman T. Matthews."

The Captain frowned. "Do I get a hint?"

"You just did."

Daniel snapped his fingers. "Of course, the ceiling! But — which one?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out."

Daniel looked up. It wasn't the ceiling in their cabin. It would seem he had some searching to do. With something between a grimace and smile, he began walking through the house, looking up. Finally, he spied an envelope taped to the ceiling in the hall right outside the girl's room. Fontenot appeared beside him, and popped it down. The Captain thanked him and read the card. Close, but no cigar, sir. This is not it. Keep looking. Chuckling, Daniel continued, until he found the real envelope over the window seat in the living room. He climbed up on it to retrieve the paper. Congratulations, you found my gift. Now, what's black and white, and read all over?

"What a chestnut. The newspaper," Daniel scoffed. "Now, to find that rag."

The Beacon was lying on the kitchen table, as he recalled. Folded inside it was another card. Honestly, would such an old riddle really be a clue? Come now, old son. If you want my present, work harder. Of course, you won't find Adam anywhere near my gift. Dash.

Hmm. Was Dash being clever and meaning he should go to the Bible and look in — Revelation, the farthest book from Genesis? Or did he mean...

Inspired, Daniel popped to the cellar where he found a white square poking out from under a jelly jar on Martha's shelves. Excellent. Now, what have you shown me the most, Uncle? Claymore.

Claymore... He's here, too? The spirit thought. Well, he has been almost adopted over the years, against my better judgment. Most of the time, what I really wanted to do was show the jellyfish to the... Of course! That's it! To the front door!

Materializing there, he found another card. Opening it, he read:

Congratulations! Card number three. We gave you a break this time, as well as Claymore. This next clue is a bit different. Turn around, walk fifteen feet. Look to your right, then up. And see what there is to see. Love, Candy.

Doing as the card suggested, Daniel paced fifteen strides, turned to the right, and found himself staring at a wall, and a picture, but there was no sign of a card. Now what?

"Hey, Captain Dad," Candy grinned from a doorway. "How's it going?"

He shook his head. "You've given me a red herring, my dear. There's no card here."

"Now would I do that to you?" Candy gave him a mock pout. "You aren't reading the directions right. Try again. Read slower, but hurry up, I think Martha has something really cool planned for dinner, and we can't all hang out in the kitchen forever."

Daniel returned to the front door and read the card again. Walk fifteen feet... "Of course!" he burst out, and when he had measured the distance again carefully, there was a card tucked behind another picture.

There! I know you could do it... but this isn't a present card. Your next clue is: A shelter during a thunderstorm. One more thing. Remember who wrote this clue! Love Candy.

His eyes shifted to the umbrella stand in the hall. Too easy... he thought. Candy, thunderstorm, shelter... He snapped his fingers. The day we met! Thunderstorm! She dived under the afghan, and... A moment later he reached the living room, where the old blanket was draped over the arm of the couch. Under it was another card.

Congratulations! Card number four! Now for your next clue: Look for it. That's all I'm saying, Adam.

The Captain scratched his ear. Look? What the deuce had he been doing? Wait, ah!

In a flash, he was at the telescope. Why hadn't he noticed the note tied to it earlier?

Dear Captain, he read. This next clue is not a fake one, but a valuable one. That's it. Go find your next card.

Nonplused, the turned the card over. Nothing there. What kind of a clue is this? He glanced around the master cabin. No other cards in sight. With a sigh, he popped back downstairs to the foyer. Maybe I should just look for cards? he mused, but the riddles have been amusing.

Somehow, he wasn't surprised to see Claymore in a doorway, munching on an apple. His ersatz nephew grinned.

"Don't tell me you're giving up already? This one should be easy, all things considered."

"Easy for you. You know the answers. For a change, that is."

"True," Claymore nodded. "Tell me, uncle..."

"Claymore!"

"Ah, now be nice, or you don't get any help from me!"

"Very well, "nephew," and I say that for today only. What is meant by a clue not being a fake?"

"Oh, come now!" Clay tapped his foot. "Haven't you gotten the theme yet? These are all riddles, but so far they all relate to items and events that have happened here in the last nine years! So if I said, "not a fake" what might that lead you to?"

"I haven't the slightest idea!"

Grinning, the landlord made his way to the front door.

"Hmm..." he said, elaborately wetting his finger and poking it outside for a moment. "Looks like rain, unless that's you."

"Don't be ridiculous. You know I can't..." Daniel glanced at the barometer, out of sheer habit. "The needle is..." He stopped speaking. Another card had been placed at the very bottom.

Grabbing it, he read: You have found card number five. Now for your next clue. This thing, all things devours. Birds, beasts, trees, flowers. Gnaws iron, bites steel, grinds hard stones to meal; slays king, ruins town, and beats high mountain down... This clue courtesy of J.R.R. Tolkien. Love, Jenny.

So, the game proceeded, with the ghost popping from pillar to post, all over the house. At one point, he looked over at his tutor. "Thank you for showing me how to recharge, even in this state. Without your help, I'd be exhausted by now."

The ancient ghost shrugged and grinned. "Love is the greatest of all powers, and where it is, energy abounds."

"That almost sounds like a clue," Daniel accused.

"No, but I do have a card for you, with one on it."

Daniel took the envelope. "The Master of the house? Well, it's time I got an easy one."

Confidently, he strode to the canvas over the mantle that dominated the living room. There was nothing there, not even a "sorry" card. His next thought led him to a photo of Carolyn, but it was also empty. By now, the family had assembled.

"C'mon, I'm hungry," Jonathan sighed.

"Be patient," the Captain said, going over to Scruffy's bed. Nothing there either. "All right. I am defeated. Who is the master of this house?"

Carolyn smiled. "Darling, there is no master of this house."

"No... ah..."

In a flash, he had it, and was popping upstairs to where they kept the portrait Jenny had painted of the family. Sure enough, tucked behind it was the final card.

Congratulations, you've done it, the card read. The only master of this house is love and family, and both are here in this house as long as we are all together, in any form. Now come back down with your card. Appetizers and presents await, and then dinner. Love, your family.

In a moment, the seaman was back downstairs again and by his lady's side, shaking his head.

"I must admit, you have surprised me," he started, looking around the room, where a stack of presents had appeared quite mysteriously on the coffee table in front of the couch, and a banner saying "Happy Birthday, Captain Gregg," had been hastily strung. "How on earth did you manage it?"

"We aren't telling," Jenny smiled.

"But planning it did keep everyone from being bored," Candy added. "But we would've done it anyway, Captain Dad."

"I'm starved," Jon added. "Sit down and open presents, so we can snack!"

"The roast will be ready in about twenty minutes," Martha added. "You have just enough time."

The first gift was easy to guess. Daniel was not at all surprised when he unwrapped the bottle of Madeira from Dash.

"Well, it's worked well for the last few decades," his friend smirked.

Next, he opened the small box with Claymore's name on it. It was too heavy to be green stamps, which the miser had given him one year. When he had removed the paper and opened the shoe box, inside lay an antique knife. Daniel's brows went up. Had Claymore changed? Then, he lifted it to get a closer look, and was torn between laughter and a grimace.

"What a lovely blade, Claymore," he commented. As the landlord preened, he continued, "Of course, I thought it was so, a hundred and twenty years ago when I bought it." The ghost held up the knife so that the carved initials DEAG could be seen plainly.

"Er — I didn't look at it that close. It wasn't me that took it. I found it in the back of the safe, and it looked like you — might like it," Claymore stammered.

"Calm down. I've been searching for it for fifty years. You would have had to have been quite the go-getter to be pilfering in the cradle."

"Huh?"

"It had to be your father, or another uncle... someone NOT related to me, you quivering squid. This time you're in the clear. I'm just happy to have it back."

"Ed and I are next," Martha said, handing the ghost a shirt box. "Part of Ed's and my present to you is buying and cooking the dinner, but I would do that anyway, so... Here..." she paused. "I thought you could use a change."

"And if you don't like it, I want it," Ed drawled. "Stubborn woman hasn't even made ME one of these."

Tearing off the paper, Daniel opened the lid and beheld a cream-colored fisherman's sweater, obviously hand knit, in a lovely cable stitch.

"I hope it fits," the housekeeper said, watching the spirit's face. "Not exactly like I could measure you. I've wanted to make you one of these ever since the dream you gave us all seven years ago. Just couldn't get the idea out of my head. You really need to change your wardrobe more often, Captain."

"It's... beautiful," the seaman said softly. "Martha, thank you so much! I can't believe you actually made this... for me!"

"One and only — don't worry, Ed," the housekeeper beamed. "I'll start yours tomorrow."

Embarrassed at the Captain's awe over the gift, she turned to Jon and Candy. "You two go next!"

As Daniel ripped away the brown and gold harlequin patterned paper, Jonathan informed him, "We've had in lay-away since like forever, well, since Christmas..."

"Part of every time we got paid went to it," Candy flushed. "But, it just seemed like — you."

The new-style blown glass barometer holding the blue liquid was truly a work of art. Choked with emotion, Daniel said, "You are both owed hugs, when I can properly embrace you."

"Now, me," Jenny prompted. "Open carefully, please."

Obediently, Daniel unwrapped the package and plowed through the packing peanuts. Scruffy roused enough to chase one or two of them. In the center lay a delicate, blown glass ship.

"There's all kinds of artists at my school. One of my friends works in glass," Jenny explained. "So, I asked her if she could make a ship. It seems to have turned out well."

"It did indeed, dear girl."

"Looks like I'm next," said Adam. "Now I'm the practical sort. This crew is always telling me you are into all things nautical, and judging by the gifts so far, I guess that's true. So I think I'll join the pack here." He handed the seaman a small box. "Open, and you don't have to be gentle."

Quickly, the seaman tore away the paper and held up a small object.

"I've always wanted one of these!" he exclaimed. "I certainly hope it's easy to learn to use!"

"What is it?" Claymore asked.

"It's an Opisometer," said Adam. "At least I think I am pronouncing that properly."

"A... Opsi-whoses?" Claymore stuttered. "What's that?"

"A Opsiometer," Daniel said patiently. "A map wheel. You run it along charts and maps and it gives you the mileage without making the conversions on paper."

"Kinda like a slide rule," Jon filled in. "Cool idea, Adam."

"Yes, thank you VERY much," Daniel added. "I can't wait to use it."

"I'm next," Sean interjected. "Danny, I found this in town yesterday, but, well, given my current ghostly, nonhuman state, Dash helped me a bit with finances, and Adam helped him, but when I saw it, I knew it had to be yours. You'll see why when you open it."

Hastily, Daniel pulled the bright red paper away and found an antique backgammon set, with all the ivory pieces intact, in an ornate wooden box.

"My word," he gasped. "This looks just like..."

"The one you had when you, Mo... you and I used to play on at your Aunt Violet's about one hundred and forty-odd years ago," Sean smiled. "This isn't the same one, but as yours was lost, I thought this one would be a good substitute."

"What a lovely antique!" Carolyn exclaimed.

"Do watch your use of the word, 'antique', Madam," Daniel said, but there was a smile in his voice.

"Well, excuse me!" she smiled back. "How about well-preserved?"

"How about, 'charming'?" he gruffed.

"I can deal with that."

"Now, me," said Tris.

It was impossible for a wrapped book not to look like what it was, but Daniel was curious to see what the lad would have chosen for him. A joke book? He doubted it would be How to Win Friends & Influence People.

"The Collected Poems of Robert Frost," Daniel observed. "Thank you, Tris. I believe he lived somewhat after our time..."

"Exactly. Knowing how well you love poetry," Tristan said, "I thought you might enjoy someone considered a relatively new classic. Not sure how he compares to Coleridge, but he seems good. Sorry it's paperback, but..."

"That is fine. It'll take less power to hold something lighter," Daniel agreed.

"Now, I believe it would be my turn," Fontenot said, popping a box to his student.

Daniel opened the package quickly.

"Cigars!" he exclaimed. "Montecristo! My favorite! Thank you so much, my old friend!"

"To be used at your lady's discretion," the ghost smiled. "I understand she is more partial to the smell of pipe tobacco."

"Which leads to my present," Carolyn smiled, placing a package in his lap. "Happy birthday, Daniel."

Opening the package, he found a jar of one of his favorite tobaccos, black cherry, and a new pipe scraper.

"Thank you, my dear," he said softly. "I was almost out. How do you always know just what I need?"

"Just lucky, I guess," she said softly.

There was silence in the room, but finally Martha cleared her throat. "I think I smell a very done roast. So, before it burns, shouldn't we make our way to the dining area?"

"YES!" Ed, Claymore, and Jonathan affirmed in unison.

"Even if there's no cherry pie afterwards," Ed added, in an undertone.

"Well, it's not YOUR birthday," Martha said mildly.

After the blessing, Martha began passing the dishes around. Suddenly, she stopped, shivering slightly. "Blast, I forgot to close the window. It was just such a nice day, I wanted to air the place out. But now, that breeze is chilly. Ed would you—" She broke off, her eyes widening.

Daniel had begun laughing. The other three seamen had vanished, though from the corner of her eye, Martha could see Tristan's foot dangling from overhead. A moment later, Dash and Sean had reappeared, in clothes a hundred years out of style.

Daniel was on his feet, kissing Carolyn soundly.

A cheer rose from the gathered family as Sean shouted, "The celestial breeze has blown!"

"Sorry, Ed, but I need to hug someone," Dash announced, grabbing Martha around the shoulders. Tristan, without being told to get down, though no one would have now, popped back to ground level to kiss Candy on the cheek.

"This is going much better than last time," Claymore observed, grateful beyond measure that no painting was being smashed over his shiny, bald head.

"I could arrange to fly you up and down the stairs, if you like," Daniel said, mildly, with an aside wink to Carolyn as he squeezed her hand — not minding who saw him do it.

"Uh, no... I think eating would be better," Claymore blanched. "Besides, Uncle, its still your birthday, and you promised me..."

"I promised I wouldn't yell if you call me Uncle, I never said a word about not flying you around the house."

"Er — HONEST, save your energy... you need to rebuild your strength, don'tcha? Wouldn't want you t-to — w-waste it on little ol' me. Mrs. Muir..." the landlord pleaded. "Don't let him bother me."

"You quaking jellyfish," Daniel chuckled. "Still hiding behind a woman's skirts! Relax. I promise not to bother you..."

"Oh, good," Claymore relaxed visibly, and helped himself to the potatoes that were sitting next to him.

"...Tonight," the ghost added.

"Mrs..."

"Relax, Claymore. I am much too happy to do anything to you. Not today, not now, when I have received so many great gifts... the best one being the very fact that I am here, with all of... yes, ALL of you."

"He does have a point, Danny," Dash said. "We haven't toasted your birthday, yet. Now, we really have something to toast. May I?" Daniel nodded.

"To miracles. The miracle of birth that we celebrate each year; the miracle of love in all forms, perhaps especially friendship. To forgiveness, and to the celestial breeze."

"To one and all," Daniel added. "And I need to add one of my favorites, for it is certainly true for this house!" He recited:

"There are good ships, and there are wood ships, The ships that sail the sea. But the best ships, are friendships, and may they always be."

"Aye!" everyone cried as they all clinked glasses, and the birthday meal began.

XXX

Two hours later,after thanking Mrs. Muir profusely for putting up with them for days, Dash finally returned to his own home, eager to ascertain with his own eyes that it was undisturbed. Likewise, Sean and Tris departed, promising to return soon, but not too soon. Sean could no longer feel that tingle that he had attributed to Molly, but he was more hopeful. Fontenot, the Peaveys, Adam, and Claymore left shortly thereafter, and the three teens headed upstairs.

"It would seem we have been left alone, my dear," Daniel smiled, kissing her hand.

"Yes, we have."

"It has been an amazingly wonderful birthday," he commented, drawing her toward the sofa, but Carolyn hesitated.

"There is one more, small gift. Will you wait here, while I get it?"

"You have done more than—"

"This is as much for me as you," Mrs. Muir insisted. "Be right back."

Before he could protest further, she was halfway up the stairs, leaving the ghost to pace.

An eternity, or so it seemed, later, a light step at the door told Daniel she was back. Turning, he saw a vision. Before him stood his lady, dressed in her Centennial gown, looking as if she had appeared from his era.

"Happy Birthday, my love. You didn't really think I'd just give you smoking things, I hope."

"Carolyn..."

She crossed to where a tape player was hidden and pressed a button. A soft waltz tune began to play. "Dance with me? Tris wrote this song especially for us, for tonight."

"I shall certainly have to remember to thank him," the seaman said softly. "Madam, you are a vision, and I am the luckiest man on the face of this earth." Not saying another word, he took her hand and placed his other one very firmly around her waist, and leaned into her. Together, the two began to move in time to the music, and for the next five minutes, their world fell away as they lost themselves to the feel of the music and each other. Finally it reached its climax and came to a slow, melodic end. "Beautiful," he whispered, as he pressed his mouth near her ear. "What a perfect ending to a perfect day..."

"Not quite over yet," she sighed softly. Her face tilted up to his.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," he replied, pulling her closer to him, kissing her softly at first, then, the kiss grew and grew, hurling them both into ecstasy.

"Oh my love..." he murmured as he broke away to nuzzle her neck and throat for a moment.

"Not now," she whispered, "We've been separated too long... Kiss me again, Daniel." Cupping his face in her small hands, she pulled him toward her waiting lips once more.

And the seaman's last cohesive thought for the evening was what a wonderful birthday — and life — he had.