Molly was in quite a good mood. It was nearly lunch and she was busy getting ready to perform in the dining hall. She hummed one of her songs to herself as she fixed her hair in the mirror.

Molly was not a very romantic woman. It was surprising, considering how many love songs she sang, but perhaps a lifetime of strange men - strange in every meaning of the word - trying to win her affections put her off any hope of having a fairy tale romance of her own. She certainly had no love for the French gentleman. But the locket he gave her was captivating. It almost seemed to tell a story, and she wondered about this as she prepared herself.

The Dalmatians lay quietly on the floor. Their mistress paid them little attention as she dressed.

Perdita watched as Molly slipped the locket around her neck and then leaned over to her husband. "You realize that the locket that French masher gave her could very well be the missing one," she whispered.

"I wouldn't doubt that," Pongo whispered back. "How would we get it back to her? Molly would notice if we took it."

"We'll just have to find an animal on this ship who can get it easily."

"That might work," replied Pongo. "But cut out the 'we' stuff. You know you're out of the picture on this. You're about to present me with some heirs."

His wife snorted and laid her head down on the floor.

The First Officer was in the bridge when he heard a gentle knocking at the door. "Enter," he called.

He turned and saw a young girl with red hair enter meekly. "Excuse me sir," she said. "is the Captain here? I need to ask him something."

"He just left for lunch I'm afraid," said Murdoch. "You can tell me though. I'm the First Officer."

"Well you see," the girl explained, "I've lost something quite valuable and my roommate suggested I come here and ask if it's been found. It's a locket you see. It's oval and has blue jewels on it and hangs on a gold chain."

"I see," said Murdoch. Why did that sound so familiar to him? He wracked his brains, trying to remember where he'd seen something like that before. "I'm afraid nothing like that has been turned in or reported found, miss."

"Oh," said the girl sadly.

Suddenly it dawned on him - that was the locket that idiotic Frenchman gave to Molly! He thought it was suspicious. After all, how many men travel with a spare piece of jewelry to give to someone they meet by chance? "I promise you miss, we'll keep our eyes open," he said.

"Thank you!" The girl looked much happier at this. "My name is Anastasia Pickering and I'm staying in Cabin 5, third-class."

"Of course miss." Murdoch decided that he would talk to Molly about it after she had performed at dinner. The locket wouldn't go anywhere and he wouldn't have to get her upset until after she was finished working for the day.

The girl turned to leave the bridge. "Please tell me if anything comes up," she reminded him.

Murdoch smiled. "Rest assured miss, you'll get it if we do."

As per Fritz's orders, Macintosh the mouse slipped silently down the air vent towards the kitchen. All he had to do was steal enough food for the appetizers and he could scurry back to safety. As he neared the grate, his nose quivered and he saw why when he was close enough. Sitting on the kitchen countertops, in plain sight, were masses of cubed cheese - all kinds - sticks of celery, carrots, and stacks of crackers. Of course, it was almost lunchtime and the chef must be preparing to serve the passengers. But where was the chef? Macintosh cautiously leaned out through the gate and listened. Nothing. He slipped out into the open. If the chef showed up, he was most likely a goner. But still nothing. Perhaps he left to go get some more ingredients? Whatever the case may be, Macintosh decided that he'd do best to capitalize on the chef's absence and make off with as many delicious treats as he could.

"Stupid bat-dog! You get out of here!" the chef screamed. His face was livid as he ran after the tiny Chihuahua as fast as he could. The dog gave a satisfying yelp and dashed off towards the first-class cabins.

The man laughed and walked back towards the kitchens. Served the little monster right, hanging around trying to get a hand-out. No, it would take more than that to get food from his stores!

Macintosh moved fast and nearly had enough packed away into the vent shaft. On the countertop, he stopped. His ears quivered. He could hear footsteps! He grabbed as much food as he could, everything within reach, and ran for it.

He almost wasn't fast enough. Behind him, he heard a shriek of fury. So the chef had returned. Macintosh dashed for the grate. He was nearly there.

"Stop you little thief!" he heard the chef call out.

The mouse didn't dare look back. He kept going until he'd gone straight into the grating. Somewhere behind him, he heard a tremendous crash. He risked a glance behind and nearly fell down laughing. The chef had smashed headfirst into the grating while trying to catch Macintosh.

Lunch was delicious that day. Molly's singing was perfect as usual. Everyone was completely relaxed and enjoying themselves.

At their table, Jasper poked Horace in the side.

"Ouch! What is it?" Horace asked irritably.

His associate responded by jerking his head, indicating to a table some feet away. There she was, that jeweled lady, with some old man and her dog. "I say, let's work the fat lady there. After all the trouble she's caused us, she deserves it."

Horace nodded greedily. "Her and her stupid mutt," he added, following Jasper as quietly and stealthily as he could (which wasn't very).

"Double team, do you think?" asked Jasper softly.

"Sounds fine."

Jasper nodded and fell back, pretending to be thoroughly caught up in examining someone's abandoned remains of fish. Horace continued onward boldly. The clasp on the handbag didn't look too difficult to open and the lady was lost in conversation with her gentleman friend. So much the better.

As he began to pass the handbag, Horace quickly reached over to snap the lock. The plan was simple: Open, pass his hand through as quickly as he could, and swipe whatever he grabbed. He grinned as his fingers touched the familiar smoothness of pearls. He closed his fingers around it and pulled it out, quickly closing the handbag.

Right on cue, Jasper came striding past as Horace prepared to continue on his course. The plan was for Horace to sneakily pass whatever he stole to Jasper, who would then continue calmly to their room. Just as Jasper reached the table however, he jumped at least a half a foot in the air and gave a loud yell. Horace, realizing that their secrecy was compromised, quickly set off with his prize at hand. He was in the corridors to the rooms before he dared to wait for Jasper to wait up.

Of course the commotion was caused by Flopsy, who had been sleeping peacefully under the table. He happened to wake up just as both Horace and Jasper were right by him, not a half an inch from his nose. He could smell that they were up to no good and, determined to protect his owner at all costs, bit the closest leg to him. He heard the leg's owner give a yell, which unfortunately prompted the owner of the other pair of legs to run off. Oh well, either way the troublemakers were gone. Job well done, Flopsy returned to sleep.

At her table, Victoria and the grandchildren had finished their own lunches.

"Time to go back to our rooms for a rest," she said, herding them towards the door.

"But Granny," protested Ernest, "We always take a walk on the deck with Anastasia after dinner!"

"Not this time dear," said Victoria with a smile. "I think Anastasia would like a little walk on her own."

Her thoughts mixed together as she stared at the endless sky and sea. Her locket, her mother, that young man, all of it seemed to come together somehow. But of course it would never be so perfect. Nothing in her life ever was.

"I knew you existed!"

She turned, startled. Coming up behind her was the blonde man. "I never expected to see you on the third-class deck," she commented. "I would have thought for sure you'd be inside, listening to the wonderful singer."

The man joined her at the railing. He stood beside her, looking out into the great blue eternity. "I was too busy looking for someone," he said with a smile. "Someone with unforgettable eyes." He turned and looked straight at her. "And now that I've finally found her, I won't just let her walk away."

Anastasia smiled, but inside she was so confused. Why was he saying this? He really wanted to see her again?

From inside the dining area, they could hear the singer's voice, loud and clear: "Kissing in a warm embrace…Let the sky open up above you…"

Before she knew what was happening, the young man gently took Anastasia's right hand in his and put his other arm around her waist as they began to dance slowly to the music. She didn't even notice how she began the steps. It seemed so natural. So peaceful.

"Please don't be make fun of me," she said. "I'm just a poor girl in third-class. I don't belong in your world. I could never compete with the girls that surround you."

"What are you saying?" asked the man, looking slightly hurt. "Do you think that's all I care about?"

"No, of course not," said Anastasia quickly.

They continued to dance. The music continued to play. The singing continued onward: "Let the sun rise around you…"

"What's your name?" the man asked. "I'm William. Will if you prefer."

William. "I'm Anastasia," she said softly.

"What a lovely name," he said gently.

He really thought that? She found herself smiling again. It happened so often when he was around, she noticed. "It looks like fate is trying to put us together," she teased. "but now I must go."

William smiled sadly. "Must you?" he said. A repeat of their last conversation.

Anastasia gently pulled herself free of him. She leaned close to him for a moment. "Yes I must," she whispered. Then she stepped back and began to walk away.

"All across the universe!" cried the singer in the dining hall.

"Will I see you at the reception?" William called after her. "I want to meet you there!"

Anastasia waved goodbye sadly.