As an apology for not updating in so long, here is the longest chapter to date. No place seemed right to break it off, so here we have a monster in the making. Literally, the writer's block I had was terrible. Still, I hope you enjoy! PLEASE REVIEW.

"Eric…Eric, honey…"

The sound of his name reached the prince through his dreams. In the thick fog of his mind, he fought to gain some semblance of consciousness. And as the world started to return back to him, he realized there was an awful pain radiating from his neck.

"Eric, dear…"

"…huh?" He opened one eye drowsily, vision blurry from sleep.

"You should to go to bed, hon," Carlotta said, her voice gentle and soothing as she affectionately smoothed back his dark hair. "It's still early."

He was only half-listening to the housekeeper. Somewhere, through his memories, he was trying to find out why he wasn't sleeping in his bed. The answer came to him as his other eye opened, his vision focused, and from the corner he caught something very red sticking out amongst the rather drab colors.

"Is Ariel…okay?" He asked in between a yawn, eyelids still heavy as he sat up, attempting to ease the pain.

Carlotta looked in the girl's direction, her voice still soft as she said, "The doctor says she'll be just fine, she's still fast asleep."

"Huh?" He questioned groggily, not fully capable of understanding what he was being told. He followed Carlotta's line of sight, things clicking in his mind when he finally looked at redhead. "Oh."

Ariel was indeed still sleeping, her lips moving slightly, as though she was trying to speak in her dreams. Her head was at an odd angle, half of it on the pillow, half of it on the Max, who had somehow spread himself out across the bed throughout the night. Her arms were wrapped around the sheepdog, as though she was cuddling a giant stuffed animal.

And for a second, Eric wished he was a great painter, so that he could capture this moment forever. Though her long hair was spread in every direction, and the blanket was falling off the bed, revealing her wrinkled skirt, he'd never seen this side of her. His heart swelled for reasons he couldn't describe; though she looked nothing like a proper princess, a smile still curved on his lips.

"She's amazing," he breathed, admiring the way her bangs fell in her face, slightly covering her right eye.

"She's certainly something," Carlotta agreed, and Eric jumped a bit, having forgotten the housekeeper was still there. "I think you should get to bed now, dear."

The young man stretched out his back, shaking his head, and giving another yawn. "I can't, I told Grim I'd finish all that work yesterday after I took Ariel to her room."

Carlotta frowned, not at all liking his line of thinking. "You were going to spend all night up?"

Eric shrugged, never taking his eyes off of the redhead. "I can't work on it during the day, so at night is really the only time."

"If you took an hour or two out of your day, I'm sure—"

"No way," Eric cut her off, firm in his decision, finally looking at the housekeeper. "She's so…incredible. I don't want to miss a minute."

"The girl will understand, honey," Carlotta continued, trying to dissuade his silliness in the matter. "If you just explained to her—"

"No." Stubborn as he was, Eric refused to let the conversation be dragged out further. "She came here for a new adventure, and I'm not about to curtail that because of something I have to do."

Carlotta sighed, shaking her head, but giving up on the matter. She knew from experience that when he'd made up his mind, it was difficult to change it. "You know, eventually you'll have to talk to her, about everything."

"I will," he promised, his gaze falling back to the former mermaid. "Just…not now. She's only been here for what, three, four days? It's not something she needs to be bothered with, just yet."

"In any case, you should know better than to spend the night with her, even if she wasn't feeling well." The housekeeper changed subjects now, her voice becoming chastising, although still soft so that Ariel stayed in her own land of dreams.

Eric was the one to frown now, "I fell asleep, it wasn't my fault."

"The fact that you were even in here while Doctor Berg was trying to conduct an examination and being a nuisance — don't give me that look young man, how many times have I told you that nothing gets past me? — is improper enough." Carlotta declared, her scolding becoming just a bit harsher.

Eric, who'd since looked away from the redhead lying in bed, raised his chin defiantly. "She was running a fever, and I was worried about her, there's no scandal in that. Also, we are engaged."

"Yet, there's no ring on her finger, and no wedding plans have been set in motion, hm?" Carlotta responded dryly.

"It's been less than a week since she's even been human!" Eric answered, in a lousy attempt to try and defend himself. Ariel stirred at the rising of his voice, but simply curled in closer to Max; in response, the young prince lowered his tone, refusing to look at the housekeeper. "Can't I have just a little break? I was almost married to a witch last week, isn't that enough of a reason to not want to rush things again?"

Carlotta sighed once more, feeling his frustrations roll out, as she pushed back more of his tangled dark hair, and lifted his chin to meet her eyes. "I know you've got good morals, dear boy, but I'm just one person, in a kingdom full of them. Others may not take such a…favorable, view."

Eric pulled away from her motherly hands, mumbling, "Up until a few days ago, no one seemed to have a problem with it."

"Last week she was a mute, shipwrecked survivor you found wandering along the beach." Carlotta explained, pursing her lips as she did not think she had to do this. "Today she's a foreign princess, one who you seem to be spending all your time with, and are now on clear level of affection with. Neither of you can afford stains on your reputations, but her doubly so, it'll be difficult enough after…well, everything."

"So what? There's been kings with dozens of mistresses, and I'm being rebuked because I haven't started planning a damn wedding?" Eric replied, a bit more bite in his words than he had intended.

Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, Carlotta had known him long enough to reach out and give his ear a good twist. Eric yelped in surprise. "Watch your language, young man. I may not be your mother, but I will send you to your room for the rest of the day, understood?"

Eric winced, hissing at the pain because he did not want to cry out again. "Yes, yes, I understand! Please…I'm sorry, stop!"

His ear was released. The prince put a hand to it immediately, rubbing at the throbbing appendage. "Alright, point taken, I'll start trying to pull things together."

"There's a good boy," Carlotta answered. "But you might want to do it quick, dear, goodness knows how soon a girl like that could have other suitors at her door."

That thought caused Eric to stop rubbing his ear for a moment, looking at the housekeeper like a fish caught on a hook. "You don't think she'd…go after, someone else, do you? Right?"

"All I know, hon, is that she's a very pretty girl, and love is a mighty fickle thing," Carlotta returned, satisfied now that the message was finally making sense in that thick skull of his.

The worry never left Eric's eyes as he swallowed hard, pushing those thoughts away as he complained, "I haven't gotten my ear nearly twisted off since we broke half of the fancy porcelain playing war. Anthony just got a 'go to your room'."

"You were both old enough to know the repercussions of your actions, but you decided to give me lip." The housekeeper answered, as though daring him to accuse her of being unfair between her own son and him.

"What did I even say?" Eric's brows furrowed, unsure now. "I doubt I swore, I was twelve, I hadn't even gone on my sailing expedition yet."

"It's nothing of consequence now," Carlotta replied, not wishing to relive her first 'I-hate-you' from the boy. "However, if you're really this set on wanting to finish all your work, I'd suggest doing so now. Goodness knows what time she'll wake up, and it'll be enough to simply convince her to take it easy."

Eric glanced over at the bed, nodding in agreement. "Good idea. I should probably talk to Louis first, though, I don't want her getting sick again."

Carlotta waved it off. "Oh, no need, Doctor Berg is doing that now; Louis might not be so abrasive towards the idea if it's coming from a doctor. Also, I thought you'd rather I'd try to wake you up instead."

Eric paused as he stood up, remembering nearly falling into the room the night before thanks to the doctor. "Right, thanks for that. I guess I should go change, though."

"That'd be best," Carlotta agreed, noting the many wrinkles in his usually pressed shirt. "There's also a tray in your room, it should be enough to hold you over until breakfast."

The made Eric brighten, and he leaned over, planting a boyish kiss on the housekeeper's cheek. "Thanks 'Lottie."

"Not a problem, dear, now get going before everyone else wakes, hm?" Here Carlotta gave a pointed look towards Ariel, who although still asleep, had stopped trying to speak in her dreams. Max, on the other hand, was consistently drooling on himself.

"I am, I am," Eric laughed, taking another look at Ariel, grinning widely, and letting his long strides carry him out the door.

Ariel awoke with a start, blinking back her sleepiness. Still drowsy, she noted that the room was lit up, the sun pouring in from the open window. She couldn't hear the sea, however; instead she heard the sounds from the courtyard.

She turned her head slightly at feeling something warm spread out over half her body, and realized it was only Max. Why or how he'd gotten here she didn't know, but her half-asleep mind did not rightly care, either. Instead, she lifted herself up on an elbow, her head moving to the sound of a voice.

"Ah, I see you've finally awoken, Miss Ariel," a male voice interred, as the young woman squinted at him for a moment, her vision still coming into focus, and realized he was the palace healer. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," she answered, recalling her tossing stomach from the night before. She looked down at Max, who was still sleeping, and scratched behind his ear affectionately. He must have spent the night with her, she realized wryly, which lead into her question of, "Where's Eric?"

"I haven't seen the prince since earlier this morning," Doctor Berg responded, coming over to the infirmary bed.

"Oh." Ariel frowned, disappointed. Then she perked up. "Well, I'll go find him then!"

"Perhaps later, ma'am," the man started quickly, as Ariel tried to untangle her legs from under the dog. "But for now, I hope you won't object to a quick examination, just to make sure everything is in order?"

Ariel eyed the healer for a moment, before sighing, her shoulders slouching as her lips turned into a pout. "Fine. I'll look for him after, then."

An hour later, bathed, in new clothes, and having been convinced to eat something before she went down again, Ariel found herself pushing open the door that lead to the palace dock.

The sun was hot against her covered skin, and she tugged at the long sleeves, obviously still uncomfortable being so conservatively dressed. Her long hair hung down her back, tucked behind her ears, and she was glad it was still damp, because it cooled her off a bit.

Her ears suddenly picked up the sound of voices, men's voices, seeming to be speaking to one another. Or rather, barking out orders to each other. It was hard to tell the difference, because she couldn't quite cut through the thick accents. Still, she was almost positive she heard Eric's name mentioned.

She took a few unsure steps forward, curiosity getting the better, of her, as she strained to listen to what they were saying. The wind turned away from her, though, and carried the conversation elsewhere. Frowning, she did not notice the net haphazardly strewn on top of a barrel and spilling over the side of it.

She narrowed her eyes, taking another handful of steps, just barely able to hear them saying—

"Ack!" Her foot tangled with the net, and unprepared for such, (and still very unbalanced on these two tails—legs, on her legs, she reminded herself), she instinctively screwed her eyes shut, put her hands out, and braced for impact.

"Gotcha!"

The feeling stopped.

Her eyes flew open, bewildered, and she stared at the wooden dock, feeling suspended in the air. Her nose was nearly scraping the ground, and her hands were firmly placed on it, yet there was no weight to them.

"Seems like you got a nasty habit of falling," a warm, very familiar said, as she was lifted back up to her feet. She realized that she'd been held by the back of her dress. "Are you alright?"

Her feet now back on the ground, she was able to lift her eyes to see Eric in front of her, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, though there was underlying concern. She nodded quickly, her face flushing with quick embarrassment. "I'm okay. Thank you for catching me, again, I mean."

"Hey, that's what I'm here for," he laughed, brushing it off with a roll of his shoulders. "Mick saw you come out, and I was calling you, but it didn't seem like you were hearing, so I was coming over when I saw you about to take a spill. What are you doing out here anyway?"

"Oh! I…"

The words died on her lips when she realized that his shirt was more open than usual, exposing his chest. She could see what looked like water on him, rolling down in big drops, but they reflected the light, making his skin take on a tanner, shinier quality. His forearms were bare, the cloth gathering just above the elbow crease, showing his muscles.

In all, he looked attractive. Very…yummy, as Adella would say. The thought of it made her flush again, and she trained her eyes to the ground, willing herself not to stare.

"I wanted to see what you were doing," she finally answered, swallowing hard as her stomach did flips. Not the nauseas kind like last night, but the good kind, the type she usually got after hanging upside down, and then lifting herself up fast.

Though she couldn't see him, she imagined him shrugging his shoulders as he said, "I was too wound up after looking over some work, thought I'd get some sailing in before dinner. I didn't realize that most of the cordage was wearing thin, and the jib had gotten loose again."

"And," she started, face screwing up in confusion as she rolled the new words around her mind, "you're trying to…fix it?"

"More like guilted into sprucing her up, but it's fine. I haven't been paying nearly as much attention to her as I should anyway." There was a grin in his voice, and…pride?

"After your done with all this, then you're going to go…?" She wondered, unable to recall the word he had used.

"Sailing," he answered easily, and her shoulders slumped, disappointed. She didn't want to keep him from having fun, but a part of her was tired of hanging around the palace.

An idea suddenly sprung up in her mind, and excited, she looked back up at him, eyes shining.

"Can I join you? I've never been sailing before!" She said, with a gleam in her eyes.

"Uh…" he hesitated, thrown off guard by the question. "Not that I don't want you too, but sailing isn't exactly…um…"

She blinked, waiting for him to continue. He sighed, unable to say that it wasn't exactly a hobby that most young women wanted to partake of. So, he settled on another point of contention.

"You were running a fever last night, though," he pointed out, but Ariel vigorously shook her head.

"But the healer said I was perfectly fine today, though, and that I could do whatever I wanted!" She spread the truth a bit, not wanting to mention that she was supposed to be staying around the palace and not straining herself.

Eric wasn't done, however, as the image of her shivering form in his arms still alive and well. "After how sick you were, wouldn't it be a better idea for you to relax today?"

"I can relax later," she countered. "Besides, I've always wanted to explore a…ship, when it's not under water!"

There was conflict in his eyes, and he rubbed the back of his neck with a grimace; she could see him struggling to make a final decision. Her lips formed a pout, and she batted her eyelashes slowly, before asking, "Pleeeease?"

He sighed, his arm dropping in defeat. "Fine, you can come."

"Yes!" She cheered, throwing her arms around him delight. Then she scrunched up her nose and pulled away with a frown. "You smell bad, by the way."

Despite everything, he managed another boyish smile, his dimples showing as he pushed back his dark hair. "I'm sweating like a pig out here."

"What does that mean?" She asked, blinking at the unfamiliar terminology. He looked like he was going to explain, then thought better of it, and shook his head.

"Let's just say, the sun is scorching, and I'm feeling it."

"At least you're not all covered up," she retorted, tugging at her collar. "I feel so hot. I wish I could just not wear this, and be in shells instead."

Eric looked her over a moment, noting that she was indeed covered, from head to toe, although that didn't take away from the fact that she looked beautiful. Still, swathed in a long sleeved white blouse under a dark bodice, with a simple pink skirt —and not to mention goodness knew how many layers were underneath — for someone not used to this, it must have felt like she was burning.

But it's not like there were many options for her to feel less stifled and still be well attired.

Still…

"Here," he replied, taking one of her arms, and starting to roll up the sleeve. "This should help."

She stared at his moving hands, her brows pulling together in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"It's not much," he explained, "but it should cool you off, at least a little."

"Oh," she answered, still quite unsure, but liking the feeling of air on her bare skin, as his hands moved to her other arm. "Is it okay, though? I mean, is it proper, especially because we're, you know, together, and there's reputations, and—"

Again with that, Eric groused silently, fighting the urge to roll his eyes; he knew why everyone was concerned, but it still didn't give them the right to interfere into his relationship. He cut her off with a chaste peck on her lips, thereby silencing her, and dropping his hands from her arm.

"Don't worry about reputations, you're wonderful."

She wanted to reply that that's not what she had been told the day before, but a cry of, "Oy! Stop lollygagging and leaving the work to the rest of us, Dog Rough!"

Eric made a face. "That's for me. I guess there's still some stuff that needs to be finished before we can head out."

She perked up, a smile spreading across her face when she heard the 'we'. She grabbed his hand and half-dragged, half-ran with him close to the ship. "Then let's go! I want to go on the floatermajigger!"

"Hold on, hold on," he managed to say, through his chuckle, because her excitement was infectious. She stopped to look back at him, obviously wanting to know what he was talking about. "Why don't you take a seat for a minute?"

She pouted again, but this time he was better prepared, hurrying on to say, "Just until we're about to set off, while I finish up here?"

She was quiet for a moment, considering it. Then she sighed, resigned, and sat down on a round-a-majiggy, kind of like the one she'd used to help her float towards the wedding barge. "Oh, alright."

He gave her another quick kiss and a smile, before dashing off somewhere into the floatermajigger. Once again, Ariel was left alone. This time, however, it wasn't for long, as she spotted a boy not too far off, struggling to carry something.

Without a moment to lose, she was on her feet once more. She didn't even really realize that she was on the gangplank, until she was close enough to the boy that she could ask, "Do you need some help?"

He looked to the side, briefly, because whatever was in his arms was taller than his head. He scrutinized her face, before saying, "No'm, I got it, crew quarters are—"

That was the moment when the top of whatever he was carrying started to tip over. He gave a cry of surprise, attempting to catch it, but his arms were too full to be of much use. Luckily, Ariel grabbed the falling cloth just in time, before it fell into the water.

"I got it!" She declared, finding the amount that she was carrying was much heavier than she had originally assumed it would be. It also seemed to be stacked and folded, and although a bit messed up now, still alright enough that she had a good grip.

"Thanks," he said with a sigh of relief, "Everyone would've 'ad my head if I got the canvases for the new hammocks wet, not to mention the nightmare it would 'ave been, trying to fish it out of the water."

Fish it out, Ariel wondered, unfamiliar with the phrase, and unsure of the way it was being used. It didn't sound nefarious, like killing a creature. She filed it away in the back of her mind to ask Eric about.

"It's no problem, I wasn't in the mood to sit still anyway," she answered, smiling brightly. He had to be around the same age as Urchin, although his hair was darker, wavier, and longer. "I can help you take this to…to the crew quarters, if that's where you need to go."

His brown eyes widened. "Can ya, Miss?"

"Sure! It's not so bad."

"'S a great help," he said, his accent marking his words. "But be careful that Capn' don't see ya; no one's allowed on the Prince's ship without 'is permission."

Ariel blinked, frowning slightly at the thought, before brushing it off with a casual, "I guess I'll be on the lookout, then."

"Ya should follow me, we'll go below decks fast; I don't wanna keep ya." The boy answered, a bit unsteady on his feet, but managing to walk up the gangplank.

Ariel followed after him, curious, and letting her eyes explore the new sights of this floatermajigger, Eric's ship. She let out an involuntary gasp of surprise, whirling around at the new colors, at the un-sunken treasures that needed to be explored.

"'Tis a big ship, isn't she? Shocked me too, the first time." The boy said, mistaking her line of thought. Ariel swiveled her head left and right, and struggled to keep up with how weighed down she was.

Still, she managed a surprised mumbled of, "It looks even bigger than the one he used on his birthday!"

"Oh, she is, Miss," the boy answered eagerly. "And she's faster, too, the Prince designed it 'imself. The cabin is probly the nicest ever seen, which is sort of a waste, because he never sleeps there."

"Where does he sleep, when he's out at sea, I mean?" She asked, sidestepping yet another gruff looking man who hardly blinked an eye at her presence. Were young women a common sight on Eric's ship?

The boy turned back to see if she was keeping up, but he was frowning as well, as though he knew something she should. "Don't ya know the Prince don't like to—"

Suddenly, he cut himself off. Ariel would have asked what he was going to say, but her arm was pulled roughly, and she found herself tumbling into the boy, the canvas being thrown everywhere in the process. They were behind a grouping of round things she still didn't know the name of.

She attempted to lift herself up on her arms, saying, "What was—"

"Shhhh!" The boy whispered harshly, scrambling over her on his knees, so that he could look through a crack to see.

Before Ariel could complain that his knee was digging into her ribs, she heard, "…don't really believe those myths, do you?"

Though she couldn't see, Ariel could hear what sounded like Eric's voice, seemingly scoffing at some notion. He wasn't too far either, probably on the other side of these human contraptions.

"Been a sailor all my life, lad, and that's plenty longer than yours," came the response, from a weathered, masculine voice. "Sure there's tall tales a'plenty, enough grog after a day in port would see to that, but for all of them to be lyin' about the work of a siren? I just don't know."

Siren.

Ariel had heard the word before. It was actually old Atlantican (how it had gotten into human vocabulary she wasn't sure), although it had long been relegated to scrolls in the most unused corner of an archive. She felt a chill run down her spine at the notion, remembering the history lessons she had listened to in horror, wanting nothing more than to wish it weren't so.

A good number of years had passed since then, however; surely humans didn't believe that it was still relevant…right? Archimedes had said that humans believed merpeople were a myth by now!

"But if she hasn't mentioned it by now," Eric started, and Ariel had a sinking suspicion that the 'she' he was referring to was her. "Then there has to be some sort of difference; maybe it was another country, another group of people?"

"That won't matter to any hardened salt," the other man answered indifferently. "All I'm sayin' is, watch her close; it's a doubly bad omen, a woman on a ship, and one with fins at that."

There was a distinctive growl that followed.

"I've got to say, I'm with Max on this one," Eric replied, but the firm edge in his voice that Ariel had been expecting was not there. He sounded…unsure, even though he said, "We wouldn't be marrying if I believed even an ounce of it."

"Legends don't come from nowhere," came the answer, much more assured than Eric's had been. "Might be best to just take that flower and—"

Suddenly, Ariel's arms collapsed beneath her, unable to carry her weight, plus the boy's. He toppled off of his perch on her back, but falling into the round, oval shaped things. That caused those things to wobble uncertainly, finally falling to their sides, and rolling in every which direction.

Shouts of surprise and protest could be heard not a moment later.

Eric raised a single brow, and beside him, his loyal sheep hound tilted his head to the side, as though confused. Only the other man, who looked older than her father, looked mildly annoyed. His gaze seemed to flicker between the redheaded young woman, to the boy.

Ariel cringed, half in embarrassment for the boy, and half because she knew she'd been caught eavesdropping. She started to straighten up as Max trotted over to her, licking the side of her face in apparent concern, and nudging her with his head. She sat up and scratched behind his ear, mumbling a "thanks, boy."

"I should have figured you wouldn't stay on the dock too long," Eric said, reaching her in one stride, a smile splitting across his face as he extended a hand to her. Even though it was obvious she'd overheard the entire exchange, his features showed no sign of it, meticulously smoothed of any unwanted emotion.

It unnerved her how he did that, almost as if he was pushing something he didn't want to deal with down. Still, she took his hand graciously, answering, "I was helping, it seemed like this stuff was too heavy for him, so it wasn't exactly my fault."

"What did he need help with?" He looked over her shoulder, and answered his own question with another. "Is that the new canvas for the hammocks?"

All the words sounded familiar, so Ariel eagerly nodded, and then frowned when he let go of an incredulous laugh. "It's a lot heavier than it looks, you know!"

"Spit needs it," Eric said in return, his eyes glimmering as he looked towards the boy, who by now had roughly been grabbed by his collar and was being forced to stand back up. "He's got to start putting some muscle on."

"Aye," this was the other man who responded, as though he'd been addressed. "And there's no better way to do it than to string up the new hammocks, after you hunt down all the barrels you knocked over."

"Cap'n," the boy whined, his eyes growing wide and pleading. "I can't do it all by myself!"

"Man up, lad, it's not like you're swimmin' into the harbor for 'em!" The weathered 'Captain' responded, before jerking the boy at his collar slightly, turning him slightly, studying him. "Spit, how old are you now?"

"A little past fourteen, sir," he answered, a bit uncomfortably from the way the grip was still on him. The Captain looked over, shifting his eyes slightly to the girl Eric had interlocked his fingers with, before finally settling them back onto the prince. "Fourteen's good age to become a man, that's about the time we took you to that on Gentleman's Club in Tilusbane, eh, Eric?"

Ariel looked up at her boyfriend, blinking in confusion, her brows furrowing when she saw his face go red. Bright red, almost the shade of her hair, even.

"Set sail in five minutes, Captain Sayers," he said quickly, almost too quickly, tugging Ariel along at a demanding speed away from the scene. In the distance, she swore she could hear that man laughing.

Half an hour later, the ship was lazily moving along, and most of the crew seemed to be taking a well-deserved break from their heavy workload not too long before.

Ariel leaned over the side, her grip tight on the wood, but her toes just barely brushing the planks beneath them. She stared wide-eyed at the sea, the way it appeared from up here, and how the waves broke against this marvel of construction. The wind whipped at her long locks, even though she had moved it one side in order to see better.

Beside her, Max had put his front paws up as well, although he was nowhere near as tall to see the flash of a silver dorsal fin. Ariel gasped.

"Did you see that?" She asked the dog, her eyes glinting with wonder. The sheep hound whined, which she took as a no, as she turned back to looking at the water. "Well, I did. It looked like…like a dolphin! Or a shark! Oh, maybe it's someone I know!"

She leaned forward further. Although the ship wasn't moving fast, however, it was still moving, and so she had a difficult time ascertaining even the species.

"Just a little bit more…" she mumbled to herself, pushing more of her body over the side in a vain attempt to see. The dog barked in warning, unhappy with how far she was going; she ignored him. "I just want to see, don't be such a guppy, Max!"

Another bark. Frustrated, she whipped her head at him, eyes narrowed. "I know what I'm doing, I'm not going to fall—ah!"

The sensation of losing her balance lasted for the briefest of seconds, allowing water to spray up at her face, and Max to bark in concern. Then, there was warmth around her waist, and she felt herself being steadied back on her feet.

For the second time that day, she found herself looking up at Eric; she realized the warmth she felt was his hands encircling her. She quite enjoyed the feeling. "How do you keep doing that?"

An eyebrow went up, questioning her. "Doing what?"

"Catching me! It seems like every time I'm about to fall, you're just…there."

His smile showed his dimples, making her heart pound in her chest. "Right place, right time. It's all a matter of circumstance, really."

She eyed him suspiciously, "Seems like a lot of 'circumstance'."

He shrugged, still smiling. "Believe what you want, I just have the luck of always being around." Here his face darkened, the smile disappearing as it was his turn to eye her suspiciously. "Speaking of which, what were you doing? You nearly fell in!"

"I thought I saw something, in the water," she explained, glancing back over at the sea. "I was trying to see if I could get a better look, but Max distracted me."

"So it's Max's fault that you nearly went overboard?" Eric wondered, although his dog pushed against his leg, whining in disagreement.

"Well, maybe I did overestimate, just a little, how well I could balance," she admitted, a bit sheepishly. "But overall, it probably wouldn't have happened if you hadn't left me alone with him."

Eric winced; though there wasn't animosity in her tone, he could tell there was obvious frustration. "I know, it seems like every two minutes I've got to run off, doesn't it? Not a very exciting first sailing experience."

She looked at him as though he'd grown another head. "Are you kidding? I never thought I'd see it from the inside, all nice looking! By the time they get to the bottom of the sea they're all broken; this is spectacular! Also, all these names; Scrumpy, Mick, Fleet, Air Boss, and Spit, I never knew they all existed!"

He brightened slightly, feeling her enthusiasm. "They're all nicknames, you know."

Max decided this was as good a time as any to walk away, as his master was obviously not going to be paying more attention to him; perhaps he could find that cat that was always lurking around

Eric didn't seem to notice his absence. He thought her eyes went even bigger, and she asked breathlessly, "They are? Does everyone have a nickname? Do you?"

"Uh…" He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking how to answer all of her questions at once. "Most sailors do, it's like a rite of passage. They still call me Dog Rough sometimes, because Max is always on board when I am."

"Oh," she replied. "So what's Spit's real name?"

He thought for a moment, before shrugging. "Not sure, he's just always been Spit."

"Oh." Ariel repeated, mentally reminding herself to ask the sailors if they preferred to be called by their nicknames over their real names.

Eric decided to check to see where he stood. "So you're not upset with me, because I keep having to run off, are you?"

"Well, I won't be if you promise to keep catching me when I fall," she answered, the words tumbling from her mouth faster than she could process them. Was she flirting?

"Done deal." He replied, capturing her lips before she had the chance to continue these newfound skills..

His hands were still around her waist, and she could feel it, even through all the layers of fabric, the heat radiating off of him. It was a hungry sort of kiss, and soon his hands were moving, one to the small of her back, as though asking her to arch into him, and another to her hip, for leverage. Her body seemed to comply without hesitation, pressing against him with need.

Need for what?

She wasn't sure; it thrilled and terrified her all at once.

A short whistle broke them apart with a jerk, Ariel of course stumbling back into the railing in the process because her balance was even worse on something actually moving.

Still, she had the decency to blush, as she saw a fair amount of amused smirks directed towards Eric. He was looking up, his face just as flushed, and maybe even a bit bothered that they'd been interrupted.

He cupped his hands around his mouth, calling upwards, "Mick! Don't make me climb up there and give you what for!"

His efforts earned him more whistles in response from the figure all the way up, and Eric rolled his eyes, coming back to stand next to her.

"Ignore him, he's got to do something to pass the time up there, and I'm the easiest target." Eric muttered, sighing for good measure. He looked at her still somewhat glazed over eyes, flushing again at the thought of it. "Uh, sorry, about…back there, I guess I got a little, um, carried away and…and…"

She turned to look at him with those huge blue eyes, her fingers still trying to capture the buzzing around her lips. "That was…it felt like colored lights in the sky."

"Colored lights?"

She nodded, bashfully dropping her hand and head, biting her lip now. "The kind you had, on your birthday? That making a 'boom' sound and light up, and then more come after, and it's all different colors and—oh, it was stunning!"

"…fireworks?" He questioned slowly, and she shrugged, very surprised that she'd pressed against him in such a fashion. "You mean, kissing….like that…felt like fireworks?"

She brought up a nail to chew on, and slowly nodded, not sure how he would take what she meant. She really had never acted in such a manner with a young man before, although she'd spied on her older sisters doing so in the past, and some had done much worse (not that their father knew). But there were so many different rules, regulations, even words here in the human world, and again, she had to remember that whatever she did was a reflection on Eric as well.

"Huh. I guess it did," he answered, grinning dreamily at the thought.

"Maybe next time we should just not have an audience?" She asked, wondering if this constituted as flirting as well. Now more than ever she wished she hadn't smacked her hands over her ears to that she wouldn't have to hear Adella's "advice".

Next time, Eric thought, his grin widening at the thought. "I'd like that."

She reached down for his hand, feeling the comfort of its familiar weight in her own. He felt her bare fingers curl over his, and the thought occurred to him that she was his. And he could care less who knew it, but he also understood now what Carlotta had been saying; next time, kissing her like that may not be out in the middle of the ocean, where only his friends could see, but somewhere tongues would wag.

He wasn't going to allow her reputation to slip because of his mistakes.

After, he'd already promised to catch her next time she fell.

Coming to a decision, he turned slightly to her, asking in a way that sounded a lot more calm than he felt, "Tomorrow, what do you say we go into town again?"

"I'd love to!" Ariel answered, looking back over at him, and unable to comprehend the sigh of relief that came. "What, did you think I was going to say no?"

"No," he answered, although in reality he had feared she would, and then he'd have to rearrange another plan. "I just thought…" a mischievous glint found its way into his eyes then, and she gave him a wary look, suddenly on guard, "I thought you were going to ask to drive."

She gave an indignant gasp, but he used the moment to his advantage, pressing another kiss against her lips, and then running in the opposite direction. She waited just a second, looking back over at the water, before clutching her skirt in two handfuls and running after him.

"Eric, slow down! That's not fair!"