A/N: I notice that this story has had sixty-eight visitors to date, but only two reviews. So (at the risk of sounding desperate), if you're reading this and haven't yet left a review, would you please do so? Even if it's just to say "This story is complete horse manure, and you should never, ever, touch a keyboard again."

Disclaimer: If I owned Victorious, my diet wouldn't consist solely of microwave meals and Capri-Sun pouches, now would it?

Now I know how a pack mule must feel, thought Jade.

Realistically, the cruise ship would probably carry all the amenities she would need, but she was in no mood to take anything for granted, especially where Mrs. Lee was involved – Tori had told her that the restaurant owner still held a grudge against the two of them for the whole "Well Wishes" incident. So, after a shopping spree in downtown L.A., Jade now wore a pack crammed with multiple jackets; thermal blankets; several dozen pre-packaged, freeze-dried meals; a satellite phone; a combined compass/sextant/GPS locator; and anything else she could think of. The weight bowed her over as she walked down the quay. Scoliosis, here I come…

"Look, Jade, for the last time, let me carry that," said the far less heavily burdened André.

"I've got it," she snapped, secretly envying André's impressive upper-body strength.

They turned off onto pier 27, where their ship was docked, and were immediately unsettled. The walkway was narrow and in dismal repair, the boards soaked with seawater and rotting.

"This can't be right," said Andre. "Shouldn't a grand cruise ship have, y'know, a grand pier to match?"

Jade double-checked her itinerary. "As far as I can tell, this is the right pier…AAH!"

A beam snapped in two beneath the weight of Jade's foot. Moving like lightning, André seized her hand and pulled her back up before she could fall through completely.

"Okay, that?" she gasped. "Was not a good omen."

"No argument there," André replied. "Are you okay to walk?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine." She added, more softly: "Thanks, though."

"No problem." He grinned, and Jade thought, not for the first time, that he had a truly lovely smile. Not on par with Beck's, of course; but still…

As they neared the end of the pier, their ride loomed into view.

"Oh. My. God," said Jade.

"We ain't comin' back from this trip alive, are we?" said André.

Neither of them could guess how this death-trap kept from sinking. As it was, the hideous little boat had a distinct starboard list, which exposed a hasty patch job near the port bow over what had been a gaping hole.

"It looks like a freakin' fishing-boat," said André.

"So it was," said an all-too-familiar voice. They spun to see Mrs. Lee approaching them, dashing their brief hopes that this might, after all, be the wrong vessel.

"What..what happened to it?" asked Jade, pointing at the patch.

"I believe it dredged up an old World War II mine," the restaurant owner replied, with a chillingly self-contented smile on her face. "A miracle, truly, that the explosion didn't sink it. I can only credit the skill of the captain…Why, children, what's the matter?"

"What's the matter?" cried Jade. "You call this a cruise ship?"

Andre interposed himself between her and Mrs. Lee, and said, as calmly and evenly as he could, "It's just that – well – this isn't quite what we expected, ma'am."

"Be ye speaking ill of…hic…of my fine ship?" A staggering figure appeared at the top of the gangplank and began, with difficulty, to descend. "Why, the Mary Celeste 2 is the finest vessel you'll find this side of the International…hic…International bloody Date Line!"

Jade recoiled as he approached. His breath – no, his entire body – gave off the scent of stale cigarettes, cheap gin, and…

"Jesus, are you wearing a car air freshener?"

"What? Don't be silly, lass! I'm wearing two car air fresheners!" True to his word, he pulled out two little pine trees on a piece of string from his shirt. There were black stains on them on whose origin Jade didn't care to speculate. "Saves me the trouble of bathing, don't you know. Not fond of bathing, am I. Can't stand the water!"

Jade and André stared at him in horror. He burst out laughing. "That was a joke, you thick-headed whippersnappers! Looks as if I'll have to teach you two a sense of humor while we're voyaging. After all, you're my only passengers…oh, bloody hell, there go the legs." His knees wavered, collapsed, and he fell face forward onto the pier.

"Okay, that's it. I am not getting on this boat!" Jade yelled. "Mrs. Lee, you can take your 'cruise' and shove-"

"Very well." Smirking now, Mrs. Lee held out her hand, palm up. "Five thousand dollars, please."

"What?" said Jade flatly.

"I see you didn't read the fine print when you signed the contract accepting this trip. If you back out now, you're required to reimburse me for the expenses I incurred hiring a vessel – five thousand dollars."

Now André's diplomatic façade cracked. "The hell are you talkin' about? Ain't no way a cruise on that…thing…costs five thousand! I could probably buy the whole damn boat for a couple hundred!"

"Oh, so you dispute my assessment, do you?" Mrs. Lee's smirk grew even wider. "In that case, you're welcome to take the matter to court. Of course, with the team of lawyers I'll deploy against you, you'll be sure to rack up tens of thousands of dollars in court fees, even before you lose."

André and Jade exchanged horrified looks. They were caught, and they both knew it.

Jade's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine. We'll take the damn cruise. But you'd better keep in mind, my dad has his own 'team of lawyers', and if anything happens to André or me, he'll sue you for every penny you've got!"

"Duly noted," Mrs. Lee replied dryly. "And now, I must be off. Bon voyage!"

With heavy hearts, the teenagers followed their drunken captain up the gangplank. Mrs. Lee, meanwhile, walked back to the head of the pier, where her faithful assistant Karl awaited her.

"You took care of the…matter, I trust, Karl?"

"Erm…yes, ma'am. I did hire the…gentlemen…you requested. But…"

"But what?" She snapped.

"This could…from a certain point of view…fall under the category of…um…of attempted murder," he blurted out.

"A minor technicality. And besides, these sorts of disasters happen all the time at sea. No one will think anything of it when two youths and a drunken sot meet a watery grave."