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Straight on Til Morning	By : LuluPopalot Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 5319 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Thanks so much for the reviews.
I'm writing this while at work, and since my boss is gone for the week, I'm making quite a bit of headway. I have quite a few chapters already done, but will continue to post one everyday or so, so as to keep you interested.
-L

Laura heard the key in the lock before she dissolved into tears. She found her way to the bed and sat down, holding her head in her hands. This can’t be happening, she thought. She had to get home. She had a project due at work, and she had just bought some dvds that she needed to watch, and…

She lifted her head and sniffled. Was that really all she had to go back to? A tedious job at a software company and tv? With the passing of her father last year, she was left without relatives, except for a few distant aunts and uncles. And though she had work acquaintances, she didn’t have many close friends. She had found that her dry sarcasm made her seem bitchy and stuck up, and she had worked on being more friendly. That was part of the reason for the cruise.

‘The cruise,’ she muttered aloud. How did I get into the ocean in the first place, she thought. She walked to the window, and stared out, thinking. She had been talked into going on a single’s cruise by a girl at work. Had been the time of her life, she had said, with a gaggle of eligible bachelors. Laura had been in the midst of a romantic dry spell, having given up on internet dating after half a dozen failed attempts.

She had some vacation time saved up, and the boat left out of Charleston. Besides, she had thought, it’s only for a few days. And if it turned out there were no more nice eligible men left in the world, then she’d be in the perfect place to drink her sorrows away.

The first couple days had been uneventful. After attending one mixer, and deciding that she had to be the most shallow person in the world for turning down every pot-bellied middle aged man that spoke to her, she accepted that this trip would be good for the sun and drinks, and nothing else.

Then she had met…what was his name? Laura frowned. She couldn’t remember. But she had been lounging by the pool, reading and drinking margaritas most of the day. And he had been tall, tan, and had an accent. She smiled wryly. She had always had a thing for guys with accents. And he was Australian, and charming, and asked her to join him at the bar that evening.

After a quick shower, and frowning over every outfit she had packed, she had decided on the halter top that showed her cleavage, and the shorts that showed her legs, her two favorite features. What’s-his-face had seemed appreciative of both, she remembered. They had chatted, and flirted, and drank late into the evening. Maybe that’s why her memory started to get fuzzy here, the heady sensation of flirting with an attractive man mixed with alcohol. But she had never blacked out before…

Then she remembered. She had gone to the bathroom. Several times, being a girl.

‘He drugged me,’ she whispered. ‘He drugged me and threw me off the ship.’ Her fists tightened in rage, both at her would-be murderer and herself. How could she have been so stupid? She had seen the 20/20 specials, on both date rapists and people falling off of cruise ships. And she had broken the first rule of preventing both; never leave a stranger alone with your drink.

‘Son of a bitch,’ she said louder through clenched teeth. And began to pace, her anger making her restless.

‘Fuckshitdamn!’ she said, flopping in to Hook’s chair. She took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, trying to calm herself. She rested her elbows on the desk and held her chin in her hands. She decided it was no good to focus on how she got on the ship, and should rather concentrate on her current situation.

‘Ok, I’m here,’ she said to herself. ‘Now what?’ She considered her options. She could always try a sneak attack on Hook, which would just leave her to the mercy of the rest of the crew. Shivering, she discarded that idea. While Hook wasn’t her idea of perfect company, he had kept her safe thus far. And he’s not bad looking, either, piped up a voice in her mind. Laura shook her head. The last thing she needed was an attack of hormones.

Next option, she thought resolutely. Escape was out of the question until they made port, and even then, where would she go? Best to cross that bridge when she came to it.

She frowned. It appeared that at the moment her options were exactly as Hook had laid them out; become a crew member or be left marooned. As much as she fancied herself pulling a Gilligan’s island, she didn’t see herself making a radio out of coconut.

She felt a little better at having made a decision, even if she hadn’t had much choice. She laid back in the chair, running a hand through her hair. Feeling its salt-coated dryness, she winced. She bet she looked like, well, someone that was thrown off a cruise ship and rescued by pirates.

An ornate silver mirror hung on the wall to her right. Pushing out of the chair, she went to see how bad it was. She laughed at the picture she made. Her hair, prone to frizziness in humidity, was a mess. Her eyes were blood-shot, making the irises appear bright green in her tan face. She counted herself lucky that she had been found fairly early the morning after being thrown overboard, otherwise she was sure she’d have been severely burnt. The white shirt she wore was laced down the front, and she pulled the strings tighter to create some semblance of decency. She brushed her hair as best she could with her fingers, managing to flatten it a bit. She smiled when she noticed she had a hair elastic around her wrist. She pulled her hair into a pony tail at the base of her neck, thankful for her inability to keep her hair pulled back for too long. She remembered pulling hair back and taking it down several times during her ‘date’ with the Australian.

She felt anger rise at the thought of the bastard, and decided to explore the cabin to distract herself. Returning to the desk, she found the top drawer locked. The others contained mostly maps, which she studied for a while. They were old, showing outdated borders and bearing warnings of mythical sea monsters. She put them away when she thought with a shudder that maybe if Hook was real, the monsters were too.

The chest in the corner was locked too. ‘Pirates aren’t very trusting,’ she muttered. A large armoire stood across the room, and she giggled to see the elaborate coats hanging there. She ran her hand along the soft satins and rich velvet. A stack of folded britches sat on a shelf. Deciding pants-less was not the best way to run around a pirate ship, she picked out a pair that was slightly faded and pulled them on. They were definitely too big, but managed to hang low on her hips. She tucked in the shirt to take up some room. She smiled when she looked at the coats. Well, she was halfway there, might as well check out the whole outfit. She pulled out an ice blue satin coat, trying not to think about how the color would compliment its owner’s eyes. The folded cuffs fell inches below her finger tips, and the hem caught her midcalf. Choosing not to clunk around in the boots that she knew would be far too big, she padded barefoot back to the mirror.

She laughed outloud. She looked like a little girl playing in her father’s clothes. If her father was a fancy pirate captain, that is. Hooking her thumbs under the large lapels, she struck an aristocratic pose.

‘Mr. Smee!’ she said, imitating the cartoon Hook more than the real thing. ‘Find that Peter Pan or I’ll have your guts for garters!’

‘Guts for garters?’ came an amused voice.

Laura jumped and whirled to find Hook closing the door behind him. ‘A most excellent threat,’ he continued. ‘I hope you don’t mind if I borrow it?’

‘Not at all,’ she replied, trying to look composed and knowing she was failing in her current costume. ‘Sorry about the coat,’ she said, slipping it off and going back to the open armoire. ‘I found the pants and am just a sucker for a good ensemble.’

‘Not at all,’ he replied with a smirk. ‘I fear that it complimented you much better than it does myself.’

Being at the armoire put Laura much closer to Hook, and she tried to ignore the thrill that passed through her at his gaze as he took in her attire.

‘With your eyes? I doubt it,’ she said, kicking herself mentally. She was not flirting with a pirate captain, was she? Before he could respond, she turned to face him.

‘I’ve considered your proposal, and have decided to remain on the ship,’ she said.

Hook seemed surprised at her turn around. ‘Mere moments ago you wanted to return home.’

‘And you told me it wasn’t possible. And while I doubt that’s really the case, I figure I had better make the best of the situation.’ She lifted her chin and met his eyes, showing him that she had made her decision.

‘I assure you, Miss Laura,’ he said, moving closer, ‘if you are to stay aboard the Jolly Roger, it will be more or less a permanent arrangement.’

‘However long I stay, it’s better than being left alone on some island,’ she said, holding her ground. If she was going to stay on this ship, she was going to have to get over the captain’s affect on her.

‘And what sort of duties can you perform?’ he asked.

Laura looked confused. ‘Um, piratey stuff. You know, swabbing decks, hoisting the whatever mast, pillaging. What else?’ Her stomach flipped and her hand flew to her throat as she realized exactly what else she could be used for on a pirate ship.

‘You’re not going to make me some kind of concubine, are you?’ she choked out.

‘While I admit it is not an unpleasant thought,’ Hook replied, giving her an evil look, ‘That was not my intent,’ he finished. Laura released the breath she didn’t know she was holding, and dropped her hand from her throat, absently wondering when she had started acting like a Disney character.

Hook moved past her as he continued; ‘However all of the other ‘piratey’, as you say, duties hardly befit a lady’s gentle hand.’ He sat behind the desk and regarded her. ‘Can you cook, clean, and sew?’

Laura rolled her eyes. ‘You’re lucky I’m not a crazy feminist.’

Hook arched an eyebrow. ‘Is that a yes?’

‘I’m not great at any of them, but I can manage,’ she said.

‘That will do for now. I’m sure you’re skills will improve with practice,’ Hook. ‘And if they don’t, we’ll just have to find a better use for you.’

Laura barely suppressed a shudder at his words. She pushed back the worry that the ship was probably lacking a microwave and boxes of mac ‘n’ chesse. She’d just have to make do.

‘Now that business is settled,’ Hook said, ‘would you care for some supper?’

‘Yes, please,’ she said. She hadn’t thought about food since she had woken up, but now that she did think about it, she was starving.

Hook nodded, crossed the cabin with just a few steps and threw open the door. ‘Smee!’ he bellowed, causing Laura to jump. He smirked at her, then turned to the short man that had appeared. ‘Bring supper for me and our guest to my quarters. Step to, or I’ll have your guts for garters!’ he slammed the door and turned back to Laura, who was trying very hard not to laugh.

“Well?’ he asked, his lips turning slightly upwards.

Smiling, but trying very hard to be serious, Laura nodded. ‘Perfect,’ she said.
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Straight on Til Morning