Gavin and I started hanging out all the time after that night. We were rarely seen apart. He became my second Simon...to an extent. I wouldn't dare lay my head in his lap, and I was very self-conscious about dancing around him. The crush on him continued to remain prevalent in my mind, but I managed to maintain some amount of cool when he looked at me.

One afternoon, right before Dave went on his shift, he stuck his head in the studio and asked, "So, you and Gavin sleeping together yet?"

"What?" I squeaked.

He grinned mischievously. "Every woman sleeps with Gavin before long. Don't feel ashamed to join the ranks."

"I have not slept with him, and it is not in my future plans!" I said angrily. "Mind your own damn business, David!"

"Your song's over."

With an annoyed huff, I turned back to the machines and turned on my mike. "Well, it's time for me to check out once again. Here's your man Dr. Dave!" I turned off everything and stormed out. I rounded a corner and ran smack dab into Gavin.

"Easy!" he said, grabbing my arms to steady me. "Where you going in such a moody rush?"

Without thinking a lot, I yanked my arms away from him, and growled, "Away from you." I stalked around him, and made my way towards the door to the deck.

"Hey!" he called. When I didn't acknowledge him, he started following me. "Don't walk away from me!" Still, I ignored him. I burst onto the deck and went right to the nose of the ship. I really didn't know why I was so pissed. I wasn't pissed at Gavin, but he was the source of extreme discomfort at the moment, and I could hardly bear to look at him. It didn't surprise me when he slid up beside me. "What's going on, Chels? Did I do something?"

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "No, Gavin, it wasn't you. I'm sorry."

"What was it?"

"Dave."

"What'd he do?"

"It was just something he said."

"What'd he say?" he sighed a little impatiently.

"It's nothing! Really. He was just being stupid."

Gavin turned so that his back was leaning on the railings, and he could look me in the face a little better. "What did he say, Chelsea?"

Without looking at him, I mumbled, "He asked if we had slept together yet."

A little to my surprise, he busted out laughing, but upon seeing my expression, he reigned himself in. "Sorry. It just...it struck me funny."

"I can see that." I had a little bit of a glare going on, and he quickly moved to explain.

"See, I've got a bit of a track record..."

"I don't doubt it."

"...and apparently I have a bit of a reputation amongst the guys for sleeping with every girl I talk to."

"Probably within a few moments of talking to her."

"All I'm saying," he persisted, "is that it wasn't anything against you."

I just shook my head and sighed. "You'd think I would be used to this shit by now. Especially from Dave. You know, I don't really like him that much."

"Really? I couldn't tell," he muttered sarcastically.

I smiled a little. "Yeah, whatever. Listen, I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"Don't mention it, sweetheart. Living with a bunch of guys has to be difficult. I think you're probably allowed a few moody outbursts."

"I think I agree with you."

"Now, what do you say we go tell Nutsford that someone threw his favorite hat overboard?" he suggested, pointing at where the hat was floating on the swells.

"And watch him desperately stare at it while unable to do anything?" A huge grin spread across both of our faces and we took off at a run.

In the morning, I was rather abruptly woken up by someone knocking on my door. I stumbled over and opened it. It was Simon. In a very loud, high pitch voice, he said, "Hey, Chels!"

"Simon," I said, a little overwhelmed by the noise. "What's up?"

"Chelsea, my girl. My best girl," he practically sang. "I've got some news! I don't know what I'm saying. I can't even...my word are just coming out in tune. If I were the Count right now, I would definitely be using the f word to describe the level of this good neeeewwwsss! Hold me!"

"Ok!" I laughed, completely unsure of what exactly was going on. I wrapped my arms around him. "What's going on, man?"

"I'm getting married!"

"WHAT?"

"To a woman!"

I shoved him out to arm's length. "Who? You never told me about anyone!"

"Her name's Elenore. I met her on one of my trips to the mainland. She's an American. We've been talking for a few months now, and she said we should get married, so I asked, and she said yes!"

"SIMON! That's wonderful! Have you told anyone else?"

"No. I wanted you to be the first to know."

"Since you will soon be taken, I have to do something." I took his face between both of my hands and kissed him soundly on the lips. "There! The groom has been kissed. Let's go tell everyone else!"

I gathered everyone into the living room, and Simon made his announcement. The reaction was much as mine had been. Lots of cheering, and shocked exclamations. The Count said something along the lines of, "You're fucking doing fucking what?"

Angus cried, "Give her one for the Nutster!"

"Yeah, I won't," Simon replied.

Finally, Gavin's voice stood out above the rest. "What's the lovely lady's name?"

"Elenore. She's an American!" What would later prove rather bad for me was I missed the strange expression on Gavin's face when Simon answered him.

"Well, I hope you all appreciate what this means," Quentin said. "From next Saturday there will, for the first time, be a woman living on the boat...no offense meant Felicity and Chelsea."

"Oh, none taken," Felicity replied. "I'm actually quite excited about it."

"Hands off, you lesbian!" Angus joked.

Quentin grinned, but grew serious when he said, "Elenore will be exclusive to her lucky husband here. I hope you gentlemen can take it." He then turned and left.

"For my eyes only!" Simon said.

The Count came in with, "May I just say, now that Quentin has departed, the one word which I believe is the only word in the world which now matters, and that word is..."

"Matrimony," Simon filled in.

Count just kind of stared at him, then cried, "STAG!"

We all started cheering. Angus jumped up and put his thumbs against his head with his fingers pointing out and started making a weird noise. Finally, Simon said, "Oh, that's a stag!"

"Yes!" Angus cried.

"I thought you were having a seizure or something, but it's all good now."

When I say we partied all day, I literally mean all day. There was a Foosball tournament that came down to me and Carl, and when I nearly broke one of the rods scoring the winning point, everyone starting cheering like mad. Simon started choking me in a hug, and when he let go, the Count and I screamed in each others faces and jumped up and down. Felicity baked a cake and the candles were cigarettes. There was one for each of us. I took mine, toasted Simon with it like the others, then promptly handed it to Gavin. There was a great amount of drinking that happened, and I got totally hammered. Simon passed out on the floor, and I passed out right on top of him, draped across his midsection. In retrospect, I'm actually pretty surprised he could breathe.

It was what happened after passing out on Simon that had the most effect on me however. I was roused by Gavin quietly calling, "Hey, get up, pigeon. I think you're suffocating him."

"Hmm?" I opened my eyes a little, but the light hurt. "What time is it?"

"About 2 am. Come on, I'm gonna take you to bed."

I took his hand, and he pulled me to my feet. My head pounded, and I staggered against him. "I'm not looking forward to those stairs," I slurred. "I don't know if I can get my feet to work quite right."

"My room's closer. Do you want to just sleep in my bed?"

"What about you?"

"I've got one of the biggest beds on this boat. There's plenty of room for the both of us."

Not really thinking about what I was agreeing to, or what its consequences might be, I said, "Ok."

He basically had to carry me up most of the stairs, but when we got into his room, he gently put me down on the bed. I clumsily took my shoes off, then climbed under the covers. His bed really was huge. It was the only one I'd seen beside Quentin's that wasn't a bunk bed. His room was a lot bigger than the others too. I made a mental note to ask about it later if I remembered. I'm pretty sure I had fallen back asleep before he had even shut the door.

The next time I woke up, I was extremely disoriented. This was not my room. Then, I remembered. Gavin had come and got me off the floor and took me...where? I looked around. Then, I realized there was someone else in the bed with me. I glanced over my shoulder and had to hold in a loud gasp when I saw it was Gavin. I panicked for a moment, but then I realized we both still had clothes on and he was at least an entire foot and a half away from me. Slowly, the memories came back. I agreed to just go to his room because it was closer. Right. I agreed to this, and he didn't try anything. It's ok.

The station was quietly playing over the speaker in his room and Simon was on. He didn't sound quite up to par, as was to be expected with all the revelries that had occurred. My head felt like it was going to explode one minute and then implode the next. Finally, I just groaned, and Gavin stirred. "Hey," he said, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Hi," I replied. I tried to sit up, smacked a hand to my head, and just fell back down to the pillow. "Shit."

"Yeah, you definitely indulged yesterday."

"I definitely don't need you to tell me that."

He chuckled. "Do you want a cup of tea or something?"

"Maybe aspirin. And I guess I need something to take it with, so tea too."

"Aye aye, milady," he responded with a salute to the ceiling. He scuttled off the foot of the bed and left.

I rolled onto my side and stared at the door that he had exited through. What was going on? I had just slept in his bed...with him. Did this mean something to him? More importantly, did it mean the same thing to him as it did to me? More important than even that, what the hell did it mean to me? Before I could come up with any kind of conclusion, he returned, a tray in hand. On it was two cups of tea and a bottle of aspirin. I made myself sit up and take the cup and bottle. "Thanks."

"My pleasure, pigeon."

I sat Indian style so he could sit on the side of the bed at the foot. "I take it you didn't drink quite as much as I did," I said while popping a couple pills in my mouth and taking a sip of my tea.

"Not nearly as much." He took a drink, then looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "One might've thought you were trying to escape the celebration as much as join it."

"Is this your way of asking me if I'm in love with Simon?"

He shrugged. "Well..."

I just nodded and replied, "Believe me, I'm not."

"You two just seem very close."

"We're best friends. That's all. And we're comfortable enough around each other to do some of the things we do. For example, I probably wouldn't have thought twice about sleeping in his bed while sober, let alone drunk."

"I see. And now that you've slept in my bed, drunk as you were when you made the decision to do so, do you regret it?"

I looked up at him, trying and failing to gauge exactly where he was going with all of this. "No, I don't," I finally answered. "I'd like to think we're close enough friends for this to pass off like it would if it were Simon."

"Fair enough."

"Why? Do you regret offering to let me sleep in here?"

"Not at all. Don't take this the wrong way, but you're not a bad bed partner."

I snorted. "Oh, no, I'm not going to take that wrong at all."

"You know what I mean!" he said with a laugh. "You don't move at all. I didn't even know you were there."

"Well, I'm glad I didn't disturb you, and thank you for taking care of me. Where would I be without guys like you and the Count and Simon? Always watching my back."

He smiled. "There's something about a lone woman on a ship full of men and a lesbian that makes any self-respecting man want to protect her."

"Charming," I said with a soft smile. He was looking back at me with far too cute a grin for me to maintain my calm, so I abruptly said, "I'm going to go back to my room." I put my cup down on the side table and threw my feet over the side of the bed, looking for my shoes. I found them and put them on. As I stood, my head protested again, but I fought through it. "Thanks again, Gavin. See ya later."

As I left, he said, "See ya, Chels."