Obligatory disclaimer: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.

Julia awoke the next morning in a panic. A sudden lurch pitched the room and pulled her from her dreams. Looking around wildly, it took Julia a moment to realize that the ship must have reacted to a large wave, but was back on course. The bed upon which she slept seemed to shrink through the night until it was no wider than a plank of wood. And as soft as one also. Pushing herself upright, Julia caught her reflection in the looking glass. Despite having just woke up, or maybe because of it, dark circles marred the skin just below her eyes and her pallor had a decidedly sallow cast, despite the days she spent hiding from the Caribbean sun – and freckling up nonetheless.

I just need to get home. No doubt about it. A few days, maybe a week, and then I can get back to my life. Just get up, get dressed, and stay out of the captain's way. Who cares what you look like? There is no one on this ship that you need to impress. So just do what you have to do and–.

A knock on the door startled Julia, nearly causing her to fall from her bed. She squinted into the darkness, trying to gain her bearings. What time is it?

"Breakfast, Miss Ramage!" The distinctive voice of Captain Norrington carried through the door. The annoyance reverberating in his tone brought to mind eyes rolling in their sockets and toe tapping in a staccato rhythm against the wooden floor, although Julia knew the captain was too much of a gentleman to let his irritation become a physical reaction.

Julia was also very surprised that it was the captain who presented her with her breakfast. Her dinner the evening before had also been brought to her quarters by none other than Captain Norrington, rather than being delegated to a lesser member of the crew. Why take on an extra task?

Pulling her thoughts back to the situation at hand, Julia realized that she was in no condition to receive any visitors, let alone male guests. Quickly jumping out of bed, Julia grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed and hastily donned the wrapper. Tying it closed around her waist, she crept up behind the door, just in case it flew open and someone entered. Julia checked the time on the pendent around her neck. Five thirty.

Placing her hand against the door, she trailed her fingers along the grain and collected her thoughts. "Thank you." Her voice wavered slightly so she wet her lips and tried again. "Please, just leave it outside the door. On the floor. I will… I will retrieve it in just a moment. Just, please, let me know where I should bring the trays when I am finished."

Julia heard the clinking of utensils and a muffled thud as the tray was set down, followed by a sigh of aggravation. His voice cut through the heavy door. "I shall return in one half hour and will show you myself. Afterwards, I can give you a tour of the ship."

Julia spun around, her back against the door, and tilted her head back in frustration. She let out a sigh and resisted the temptation to beat her head against the wood, but did allow a hand to arc upwards and pinch the bridge of her nose. It seemed that she could vex Captain Norrington, no matter the circumstances. "Thank you," she said quietly, not at all sure if her voice would carry through the door.

There was a pause, which made Julia consider that Norrington had not heard her, before he answered, "You are most welcome, Miss Ramage. Thirty minutes." Footsteps then echoed faintly as he walked away from her cabin.

Knowing that Captain Norrington would indeed arrive in precisely thirty minutes hence, and that she had eaten up several of those minutes already, Julia quickly opened the door and looked both ways before grabbing the tray. She then set it on her bed and began to make quick work of getting dressed. Food would have to wait until she was presentable. Besides, it was too early to be hungry and the food looked none too appetizing.

True to his word, Captain Norrington returned to her cabin just as Julia had finished pinning her hair up into a simple twist. A short rap on the door brought a wry smile to her lips. Relief coursed through her veins that she looked completely presentable. "Come in," she called softly, turning away from the mirror to face the door as it opened.

The doorknob twisted slowly, then the door swung into the room. The smile faded from Julia's lips when she saw the scowl on Norrington's face. Looking about as happy as a cat getting dunked in a bath, he leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest. Norrington said nothing and the silence nearly became tangible as anger radiated off his person.

Not sure if she was the cause of his wrath or if she was just lucky enough to bear the brunt of it, Julia thought it best to act as if all was well. Dropping into a quick curtsey, she kept her gaze low and spoke as cheerfully as possible. "Good morning, Captain. I certainly appreciate the time you taking to give me a quick tour of the ship. I also hope that in doing so, I have not hindered your schedule for the day. The events of yesterday transpired rather quickly, so I am not sure if I properly conveyed my gratitude for all that you have done. But I am ready whenever you are – I certainly do not wish to take any more time than necessary."

Her words came out in a rush and Norrington knew that they were her attempt to smooth things over. And while they were not the most heartfelt words he had ever heard, the sentiment was sincere. Besides, having a woman on the boat was causing Norrington's men to be merry – a little too merry. All were eager to meet Miss Ramage and that worried the captain. But, as it was, having someone on board made the voyage seem a little less monotonous. All the tasks were the same, but the environment generally crackled with a bit of excitement. Especially if the person was of the female persuasion. And alone. And looked like Miss Ramage.

He really could not blame poor Miss Ramage; she did nothing that other persons had not done many times before – procured passage back home. That was one of the many services his ship offered. Miss Ramage just had the misfortune to come after a huge cargo deal fell through. Although, if the ship were hauling the cargo, Norrington doubted there would have been room for Miss Ramage to sleep, as all available space would have been occupied.

No use crying over spilt milk.

"Miss Ramage, no trouble at all. But, it looks like you have not eaten any of your breakfast. Is the food unsatisfactory to you?" Norrington's brow furrowed at the tray of food still sitting on the bed, sitting on top of the sheets and coverlet freshly smoothed into place. It was obvious that Julia had quickly repaired her person and put her cabin in order, so, he supposed, there really was no time to for her to eat. But he wanted to make sure that his passenger was not putting on airs.

Her eyes went wide as Julia noticed the plate on the tray was still full of hard bread, salt pork and cheeses. Bloody Hell! After all the time she spent getting herself ready, Julia lost track of eating breakfast. Not wanting to lose her food to the scrap pile or irritate the captain, she thought quickly.

"My constitution was a bit… compromised this morning. I was going to ask if you had any suggestions, other than fresh air, that might… soothe me?" She quickly stooped and pulled the tray from the night before out from under her bed. The plate was empty, save for a few crumbs, and the mug of grog was nearly empty. Julia wanted to prove that she was not trying to be a dainty flower, for she knew Captain Norrington's opinion was quickly solidifying that she was uppity. An uppity whore.

Norrington nearly smiled. Women never spoke of such troubles so he knew it was nearly painful for Julia to admit as much as she had. Nodding his head, he gestured for her to exit the cabin. As she balanced the empty tray against her hip, she reached for the still full tray with her empty hand. Grabbing the empty tray from her, Captain Norrington made shooing gestures and said, "Leave it. I doubt it will get any more stale, so it might actually get a might bit more fresh if you give it more time to… build a bouquet." With that, he draped the napkin across the food to keep flies from congregating, then followed his passenger into the dimly lit hallway.

Standing next to her, Norrington was rather surprised at her sang-froid. For someone who made their living lying on her back, Miss Ramage certainly had a decorum about her that was more in place in the drawing rooms of London than on a cargo ship heading out of the Caribbean. Her carriage was regal, her clothing – simple, yet completely au courant – hugged her figure in a way that was all the rage… and brought scandalous thoughts into his head. Her hair, despite looking tidy and utilitarian, looked like it was not used to being put up by its mistresses fingers – rather, by someone else's help. Nevertheless, a woman traveling alone only meant one thing. Lax virtue.

And 'tis a pity, as she is a lovely creature. Maybe if circumstances had been different...

Shaking his head vigorously, as if to clear it of unwanted images, Captain Norrington spoke in a clipped tone. "Come, Miss Ramage, let us begin your tour. First, I shall show you the galley. Then, you shall meet the crew."