Spoilers: vaguely for the idea of Suite Life on Deck, although this likely won't fit into canon at all.

Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me.

Maddie's too tired to really be angry when her phone rings at three in the morning. She fumbles in the in-between state, before her fingers start working with her brain and close around the cell on her nightstand, a tiny blue-white glow emanating from the front of it. She flips it open, even manages to get the thing facing in the right direction as she puts it to her ear. "'lo?"

"Maddie, why do you sound like you're in a coma?"

Maddie yawns in the darkness, thinking how good a coma sounds. "London, is that you?"

"Of course it's me."

"Where are you?"

"I don't know. The ocean." Obviously, thinks Maddie. "Somewhere around the Caribbean, I think. Or Hawaii. I don't know."

Maddie is neither surprised that London can make pricey long-distance calls from 'the ocean', nor that she doesn't understand the concept of time zones. Still, in spite of her vague amusement, there's something about Caribbean/Hawaiian phone calls that seems off, even for her. "Is everything okay, London?"

There's a long pause, where Maddie wonders if maybe London hung up, and where she herself almost falls back asleep. Maybe she shouldn't have reclined back onto her pillows, which are so squishy, and cradling her head just right...

"I can't sleep," London says finally.

It makes her want to sigh out loud, and maybe she does. But as tiring as that statement makes Maddie, it also makes her a little bit worried. London flails and begs assistance for any number of things, but she's never gone so far as to call Maddie up in the middle of the night before. "How come? Are you seasick?"

"No. I don't know. It's hard to explain."

"I see." Gears are starting to click in Maddie's mind and things are coming to life. She can see in the dark now and think with clarity. The lumps on Sonal's bed move slightly; Maddie's roommate must've come home sometime after Maddie passed out around one o'clock, and probably won't appreciate this phone call anymore than Maddie does. This knowledge in hand, Maddie extracts herself from her sheets and shuffles to the bathroom, where she shuts the door behind her and sits on the closed toilet seat.

"I guess I'm lonely," London continues, the eerie dead silence of the bathroom seemingly making her voice stand out more.

"How can you be lonely?" Maddie says. "You're on a cruise ship. There's a ton of people."

"No one that knows me."

"That's silly, London. You've got Zack and Cody and Moseby, even." Maddie's a little jealous; not just because London still gets to be the poor little rich girl and have high-class adventures while Maddie has five classes and a work-study job, but in addition to all of that, London has their aforementioned friends around, and all Maddie has is an overly competitive study group and a roommate that smells like curry.

"They don't know me," London says. And then, after a moment, softer now, and maybe even a little desperate, "Not like you do."

"Oh," says Maddie, blinking in the darkness, because she never bothered to turn on the light. Her eyes have since adjusted, and she can make out the shapes of shampoo bottles and the plunger in the corner (the toilet backs up at least once a week and there's no Arwin anymore), but without the light, she can almost pretend that London is in the room with her. As if London would ever spend her time hiding in a cramped dorm bathroom.

London huffs, like Maddie just isn't getting it. Maybe she isn't. "I miss you."

"Oh," says Maddie again. She's a bit stunned by the idea. She's also a bit stunned by the naked truth in her next blurted statement, "I miss you, too."

London murmurs noncommittally. "Well, this sucks a lot."

"Yeah," says Maddie, tucking a foot up on the seat so she can wrap her free arm around her knee. "It does."

"Yeah," London echoes, and this is just weird, this conversation without speaking, because London does not do silence well, too in love with the sound of her voice. Maddie knows that there are the types of friendships in the universe where the people are so close that they don't even need to say anything, that the silence suffices. She never thought she and London had that. But now, neither of them need to say anything.

She's not sure how long the silence goes on before London asks, "So how are you?"

"Oh, you know, okay," says Maddie loftily. "College is pretty much what I was expecting." It's not. She's up late most nights, trying to make sure her grades are up so she can keep her scholarship, and maybe she was being overly ambitious in assuming she'd be more popular, but it doesn't matter, since she's very much not.

"Oh," says London. "What's it like?"

"You don't really want to hear about it," Maddie says, embarrassed.

"Why? Do you think that just because I didn't go..."

"You took a year off," says Maddie, parroting what London kept insisting before she went off to live on a cruise ship. Maddie figures she went because Moseby was going. The man was a better father that Mr. Tipton was. Not that the two girls had ever discussed it, or ever would.

"Well, anyway, I want to know. What do you do all day, Maddie?"

"Sit," sighs Maddie. "Learn. Study. Learn more. Study more. Sit more. And when that's all over, I have to go field calls in the administrative office for a few hours. I liked selling candy better."

"What classes are you taking?"

Maddie's surprised to find that London actually sounds interested. Maybe she really is lonely. "Calc I. I mean, calculus. Um, British literature. American history. Psychology." Maddie blushes. It all sounds very amateur. Like she hasn't chosen a major yet and doesn't know yet what it is she wants to do with her life. It sounds that way because she hasn't, and she doesn't.

Then again, she thinks maybe London will understand. "I don't know," she confesses in a breathless rush. "I picked a lot of different things so I could get an idea for what I liked and didn't like. I haven't picked a major yet or anything like that. It's sort of scary."

"It sounds scary. Better you than me. I'd probably flunk out of everything, anyway." Maddie can imagine London's distressed pout.

"London, you're not stupid."

"Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"I didn't actually get into college. Not by myself. Daddy wanted me to go to Harvard like he did, but no way they'd take me, so he offered to build them a new wing."

That doesn't seem out of line with everything else Maddie knows about Mr. Tipton. "So why didn't you go?"

"I figured everyone would know. And I didn't want to be the dumb rich girl. So I went on the boat instead. Moseby said he'd help tutor me so I'll get better SAT scores. But you can't tell anyone."

"I won't," Maddie swears.

"I miss you, Maddie. I don't know. I can trust you."

"You can trust Moseby, too. Obviously," says Maddie. She's just saying it for something to say, because this is the most honest they've ever been with one another and it's scary.

"I know. But it's not the same."

"Moseby doesn't understand girl things?"

"I guess. I don't know. Moseby's great, but he's not you."

"Oh," says Maddie. Now she really doesn't have anything to say. She knows that she and London were friends, maybe even good friends, maybe even best friends sometimes. But then Maddie went to college and London went on a cruise ship, and Maddie figured it was kind of over. It's not like she's talked to Zack or Cody or anything since they left, and they were her friends, too. Spending every day with the same people for three years made it sort of difficult when they just left without contact. Maddie thought privately that it didn't bode well for when she graduated from college.

"I wish you were here, Maddie."

"Me too."

There's another silence then, a sad one. Maddie never expected she'd miss London this much, a fact that's becoming more and more apparent as the conversation goes on. London was the perfect counterpoint to Maddie's life, a little bit crazy, and never really expecting anything from Maddie. Unlike everyone else. London had her obvious issues, as evidenced by her constant mockery of Maddie's poorness (and hair, and wardrobe), but she was sweet deep down, just too dim to realize the things she were saying were actually kind of heartless. Maddie had always cut her a lot of slack because of that. London had always just sort of accepted that Maddie was smart, never seemed to realize how hard Maddie had to work to keep her grades up, or how tired it made her. Maddie liked that London never nagged her to be better, she always just seemed to assume that Maddie was.

"Well, you know, you can always call if you want to talk," Maddie offers. "I mean, not when I'm in class or at work or anything. But."

"Right."

"And next time the ship makes its way over to the Harbor, let me know and we'll get lunch or something."

"That would be nice. You can show me your dorm and stuff."

"Yeah, it'll be good." Maddie smiles. "Listen, London, I have to go. Do you think you'll be okay?"

"Yeah, I think I can sleep now. Thanks, Maddie."

"Anytime," says Maddie, meaning it.

"Okay, bye."

"Bye."

Maddie closes her phone, the tiny glow flickering out and leaving her in darkness again, then there's a knock on the door. "Madeleine," calls Sonal, because Sonal doesn't do nicknames, "are you all right in there?"

"Yeah, Sonal, I'm fine."

"Good. Do you mind coming out? I have to pee."

College Maddie, not unlike high school Maddie, has to hide out in a bathroom for privacy. And college Maddie, not unlike high school Maddie, doesn't even get afforded that tiny luxury. "Sure. Sorry."

"Not a problem." They squeeze past each other in the tiny doorway, offering bleak smiles in the dark. "Are you sure you're all right, Madeleine?"

"I'm fine, really. But thank you."

"All right," says Sonal, and shuts the door.

Maddie settles back under her covers, her bedding embracing her like an old friend, and finds she actually is okay. Lonely, but far from stranded. She falls asleep quickly, and doesn't even notice that the phone is still clutched in her hand.