Chuck was sitting in the small service crew quarters he shared with Morgan on the lower level of the yacht. As his day was officially over, he had changed into a more comfortable pair of board shorts and had left his shirt off. The heat in the room was stifling from being near the engine room, which was quiet now as they had anchored in the bay hours ago. A small porthole window was cracked open, letting in the faintest cool sea breeze to help cool the room. The rhythmic lapping of waves against the hull, and the hisses of the bilge pump in the engine room provided a soothing backdrop, contrasting with the tension in his shoulders.

The room was quite small, only enough room for the two bunks and a small desk with a tiny chair Chuck was currently seated in. A single panel closet had a large mirror on the door, and some lockers for storage below. Lucia, the chef, had a similar room to herself as the only woman on crew, and Casey had a similar room with a larger window below the cockpit.

A lamp on the desk illuminated the mass of electronics Chuck was hunched over. A laptop was pulled apart, with its components spread out and then reconnected through a jumble of wires back to the laptop body, which was sitting upright so the screen was visible.

Tapping a small screwdriver against his lips, Chuck turned the motherboard over in his hands, looking for whatever damage had caused it to stop working. A sinking feeling told him the computer wouldn't function again until he had the opportunity to replace the motherboard. Chuck's brow furrowed as he traced the circuitry, his fingers moving with practiced precision. He didn't notice Sarah until her voice broke his concentration.

"Hey Chuck, what's all this?" Her voice was powerful and strong, matching the ocean, and it sent a thrill through him. He was certain he would never quite get used to it.

He looked over at her, standing in the narrow doorway to his sleeping quarters. Her blue sundress hung loosely off her shoulders. Moonlight played through her hair as it swayed gently with the movement of the boat. She was leaning into his room with a quizzical look on her face.

Chuck cleared his throat. "It's… uh... it's my laptop," he said lamely.

She cocked her head to the side, a playful smirk tugging at her lips, "Well, I can see it's a laptop. Why do you have it pulled apart?"

"Uh, it got a little wet, when I, um, dropped my suitcase. Earlier." He felt a warmth rising in his cheeks as he recalled the embarrassing moment when he'd dropped his suitcase at just the sight of her. "I'm trying to get it working again, and was hoping that airing it out would get it to boot up."

She stepped into the cramped room, her presence filling the small space. She leaned in close, scanning the disassembled laptop. The scent of sun lotion and salt mingled with a trace of jasmine and honeysuckle enveloped him, making it hard to focus. "Did it work?"

"No, I think I'm going to need to replace some parts to get it working again, I won't be able to do that until we're back on shore though." Chuck sighed, frustration creeping into his voice.

Chuck turned back to her as she looked down at him, concern on her face. "Oh, are you going to lose anything important?"

Chuck forced a smile, "No, I backed everything up on the cloud. It's just going to put me behind on a website for a friend."

She pulled back and narrowed her eyes. He could feel the weight of her opinions as she evaluated him. "I have a spare laptop if you'd like to use it."

Chuck shook his head, "No, no, Sarah, I couldn't ask to borrow anything from you. It's fine, Anna will understand."

"You weren't asking, I was offering. Just stay put, okay?" And with that Sarah exited the room, leaving him in a cloud of her scent. The sea breeze mixed with it, and he could feel it intoxicating him.

He turned back to the scene on the desk. His mind raced, unable to focus. He tried to continue the diagnosis, but his thoughts kept drifting to Sarah. He heard Sarah's feet beating on the metal steps descending the stairs. She burst into his room with a triumphant smile on her face. In her hands was a laptop Chuck had seen recently, in promotional videos. "Is that the Roark 7?" He exclaimed as he idenfitied it.

"I think so, I got it at a pre-release party a couple of weeks ago and forgot I had it in one of my suitcases until just now. It's a lot bulkier than I'm used to, but will it work for you?" She asked with a hint of uncertainty.

"Sarah, this laptop isn't even out yet! You could get in serious trouble for showing it to me! There's no way I can accept it!" Chuck could feel his palms sweating as he tried to process Sarah's offer. His laptop was seven years old, practically a dinosaur by technology standards. Here Sarah was offering to let him use a next-gen laptop.

"Well, considering we're one of the sponsor companies, I think I'm safe from being sued. You didn't answer my question, Chuck. Will it work for you?" She held it out with one hand.

Chuck's mouth went dry. He tried to speak, but no words came out. Finally, he croaked, "Yes." Sarah pushed the laptop towards him, waving it for him to take. Chuck reached out with both hands and carefully lifted the laptop out of her grip, cradling it in awe.

Sarah's eyes softened as she watched him handle the laptop with care. "Good. Now since you seem like you'll actually use it and it's not really my style, I want you to have it, as long as you promise you won't go posting about it on a blog or something before the official release date."

Chuck's head snapped up, and his eyes widened with disbelief as he felt tears start to form. "Sarah, no. I can't… No. This is… You can't."

Sarah met his eyes, her gaze unwavering and full of quiet resolve. "Chuck, I am a grown woman and I can do whatever I damn well please. If you don't take it, it's going to sit in a suitcase until it ends up packed away in a closet."

Chuck hugged the laptop to his chest, feeling a mix of awe and gratitude. He blinked back the tears welling in his eyes, caused by the weight of the generosity of the woman in front of him. "Thank you, you don't understand how much this means to me."

She blinked as her gaze focused on him with a gentle curiosity, "No, I don't think I do, but I think I'd like to."

Chuck loosened his grip on the laptop and set it down on the desk amidst the scattered remnants of his old one. "Not that you're not welcome down here, I mean of course you are, it's your boat, but also I'd always welcome you anywhere, but not that that's what I mean" Chuck took a deep breath, trying to end his rambling, "Why did you come down here?"

"Oh, I… I came to see the engine." She replied, taken aback by his question.

"The engine?" Chuck asked, his curiosity piqued by such a mundane response.

"Yes, come with me." Sarah reached out and took Chuck's hand, sending an unexpected shiver up his arm.

As they made their way to the engine room, Chuck could feel a thickness in the air between them, an unspoken tension emanating from their joined hands. She opened the door to reveal the cramped, dimly lit space. The hiss of the bilge pump was much louder, drowning out the sounds of the waves. The musty air was thick with the odors of diesel and salt. The darkness was only broken by a single overhead light, which gleamed off the network of metal pipes and tubes that wound around the room. The exposed machinery was bolted in place on various bars and supports to hold it steady. The humidity made the heat cling to them.

He was nearly pressed up against her, standing in the cramped room, and he could see a flush in her cheeks as she looked up at him. She released his hand slowly and stepped back a half step, separating them as much as possible in the space.

"I came down here to look at the engine because it's something I always used to do with my dad." She looked around the room, "When he was first looking to buy this boat, he brought me down here with him. The salesman wanted to show my dad the fancy rooms and gadgets, but my dad came down here with just me. He told me it doesn't matter how pretty the other parts of the boat are. The engine is the heart of the vessel. If the engine isn't working well, and the engine room isn't kept clean, then it means that the boat will have issues. If the engine is good, but the upper levels are in disrepair, the boat will still run."

Sarah paused her words as she ran her fingers along the pipes, collecting smudges of grease on her hands as Chuck absorbed what she was saying. The way she spoke made him certain it was a lesson she applied to everything in her life. It made him think about his own life so far, his struggles with his parents' abandonment and giving up his dreams of Stanford to support Ellie through hers at UCLA. "And what if the engine is fine, but the boat is sinking?" he asked in a near whisper.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she looked into his eyes. "Sometimes, you have to decide if the boat is worth saving."

Chuck could feel the tension between them, stretching tighter like a rubber band. He could see the way her eyes lingered on his, and how she licked her lips nervously. He felt them drawing closer together. His heart started to race as everything seemed to move in slow motion. For a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of them in this small, sweltering room.

He reached out, brushing her hand, and a flash of awareness hit her features as she suddenly drew back, her guard snapping up like a shield. Chuck felt a cold awareness wash over him and he pulled his hand back, running it through his hair as he looked around the cramped room for something to ease the sudden awkwardness. Sarah tucked her hair behind both ears as she watched him, and then she stepped out of the room, making the room suddenly feel as empty as the open deck above.

"Good night, Chuck." Sarah said softly, her voice lingering in the air as she disappeared. Her scent of sun lotion, salt, jasmine, and honeysuckle lingered in the lower deck. Chuck knew he would have trouble sleeping, his mind racing with thoughts of Sarah.

o-o-o-o-o

The first light of dawn filtered through the porthole window, illuminating the small cabin. The yacht rocked gently in the waves as seagulls called, announcing the break of the new day. Chuck stretched and yawned, the events of the night before still fresh in his mind. He swung his legs over the side of his bunk as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Morgan was already up, leaving the room empty as Chuck got dressed. As he pulled his shirt on, his gaze drifted to the laptop Sarah had given him, a reminder of her generosity.

As Chuck walked to the galley, his mind replayed the moment with Sarah in the engine room. He could remember exactly how her hand felt in his as she led him down this hallway, the way her eyes locked onto his with an intensity that took his breath away. But then reality must have set in; she was with a long-term boyfriend, and Chuck was just crew on her family's yacht. He needed to get his emotions under control and just try to put that aside for the rest of the trip.

As he entered the galley, he found Casey seated at the small table, while Morgan and Lucia conversed in Spanish at the working counter. Casey's calm authority dominated the table, so Morgan sat on a small stool at the counter to give the larger man as much space as possible.

Lucia stood at the galley counter, her hands chopping vegetables with practiced ease. She was a shorter woman with a small frame, and she exuded energy and optimism in everything she did. In her mid-50s, her dark hair was laced with grey streaks and was pulled up in a neat bun. She wore a simple chef's coat, worn at the edges and frayed from her years of service but impeccably clean. A bright yellow apron covered in flowers added a touch of her bubbly personality.

The aroma of fresh bread wafted through the room, mixed with the bacon and eggs on Casey's plate. Morgan was cutting the bread into slices and buttering them to be served with breakfast. The kitchen was bright and almost spotless, a testament to Lucia's work ethic. Morgan was the first to notice Chuck, "Morning buddy, coffee is on. I hope you're ready for another day working for the rich and fabulous." He added a playful lilt to his voice, mimicking an old-timey English accent.

Chuck laughed as he thought of the guests. He couldn't shake the image of Sarah's eyes softening when she talked about her father. There was a vulnerability there she didn't want to share. The playful flirting of Carina was starting to be enjoyable, though he knew he needed to tread carefully. Bryce had been distant, as he had expected their guests to act, but his demeanor was likely shaped by the pressures of his job. They didn't really fit his preconceived notions of the rich and fabulous.

"Sure am, buddy. I just need to grab a bite to eat and I'll go up top to get everything set up for breakfast. Thanks again for taking the shift last night to let me work on my laptop." Chuck reached for a slice of bread but Morgan swatted his hand away.

"There's plenty of bread on the counter, you can slice and butter your own. Did you get your laptop working?" Morgan asked, concern evident on his face.

"Uh, no, but Sarah stopped by and she gave me one of her spares." Chuck cast his eyes away from his friend to another loaf of bread; he loved Morgan, but he didn't want him to read too much into Sarah's actions.

Lucia's chopping slowed, her eyes flicking to Casey. Chuck sensed an understanding between them, a hint that there was more to Sarah's actions than he realized.

"Did Walker give you a laptop?" Casey asked, his tone a mix of disbelief and curiosity.

Chuck paused, a fresh slice of bread halfway to his mouth. "Yes, is that a problem?" He asked with concern.

Casey leaned back, crossing his arms. "No, no problem. Maybe it's a bit out of character for her. The last crew called her the Ice Queen because she was so cold to them. It's just interesting how different she is with you."

Chuck frowned as he set his bread down. "Ice Queen? That doesn't sound like Sarah at all. She's been nothing but kind, even while I'm making a fool of myself."

"Yeah, that's what's surprising. Don't get me wrong, I love that girl like she's my second daughter, but it took nearly two years before she warmed up to me." Casey's voice softened slightly. "I've been there for a lot of what she's been through. She doesn't open up easily."

Lucia put down her knife and wiped her hands on her apron. She glanced at Chuck, her eyes filled with the warm understanding of a mother. "Sometimes people bring out different sides in someone. Maybe she sees something in you that makes her want to be friendlier."

Chuck felt a nervous warmth creep up his neck. He wished they would drop the subject, but he forced a smile. "Maybe she's just trying to be nice. We're all stuck on this boat together. It makes sense to get along."

"In my experience, people don't change overnight. Just be careful with her, Chuck; she's finally in a good place, and I don't want anything messing that up." Casey warned, his tone protective.

"Oh John," Lucia interjected. "Chuck's a good boy. He won't do anything to hurt Sarah. Maybe it will be good for her to have another friend her age around here." Lucia picked up her own knife and leveled it at Casey with a playful smirk. "You're allowed to be protective of the girl, but don't go scaring off Chuck. You'll treat him fairly or you'll answer to me."

Casey grunted in acknowledgement. "Fair enough," he said.

Lucia clapped her hands, the matter settled. "Now, all of you eat up. It's going to be a long day."

Chuck poured himself a coffee and took a big gulp, glad the conversation was over. He didn't want the conversation to turn to the moment in the engine room. The memory of her scent and the almost kiss was too fresh, and he felt a warmth creeping up his neck. He buried his thoughts into his coffee, letting the warmth and rich nutty flavor wash over his worries for the brief interlude.