Title: Pirate Law

Chapter Words: 2,632

Rating: T (Eventual Romance and some mild language)

Author: Quikksilver

Disclaimer: All hail Disney for making such a wonderful story such as Treasure Planet!

~Chapter One: Coming Home~

"I never had a policy, I just tried to do my best each and every day." - Abraham Lincoln

She tucked a stray curl of dark hair behind her ear and plunged her hands once more into the thick, soapy water which filled the sink. The dishes clinked mutely beneath the hot surge of water, and the cloth in her hand felt warm and soft against her work-worn fingers and palms. She loved to do the dishes by hand – she had fixed the dishwasher late last night, but doing them by hand was a task she liked and savored, and easy chore which she saved for last. Outside in the dining area, people still chattered and laughed, dragging their heels, unwilling to leave the warmth and camaraderie of the small, slightly lopsided dining area to return to their single rooms. Her mother backed into the kitchen, one hip opening the door and allowing a thread of light to spill into the kitchen, along with a burst of cheerful laughter. The two women shared a glance briefly, identical smiles twitching their mouths. At twenty years old, Rose was her mother in miniature – long brown hair that had an annoying habit of curling in her eyes, warm brown eyes, slender figure, rosebud lips. But Rose was a good head shorter, with less worry lines around her mouth than Sarah, and larger brown eyes. Sarah put down a stack of dishes near Rose's elbow. "Is he home yet?" Rose asked quietly, looking at Sarah. A veil shadowed her eyes for a moment, and then she shook her head numbly. Jamie swished a fork in the water angrily. "He's going to get in trouble!" She said under her breath. "He's not supposed to be out this late. When he comes home, ooh, I'll give him a talking-to..."

"You'll do no such thing," Sarah said tiredly. "As long as he gets home without attracting the attention of the robocops, I'm happy."

"He needs to learn responsibility," Rose said firmly. "And he's certainly not learning it here. The Academy will be good for him, Mom. It'll slap some reality into him. Did you see that little earring he got last week? The next thing he'll get is a tattoo. I'm telling you, Mom, the Academy will sand off his rough edges."

"Space Academy or no Space Academy, it can't replace Leland," Sarah sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. She unpinned her hair, running her fingers through it, and then began re-braiding it. "He needs a father, Rosie. He's getting better – his grades are picking up, at any rate."

At that, Rose was quiet. She had grown up without a father as well, and it had been difficult. She wanted a dad to protect her, to make her feel safe, to read to her, cuddle her, tell her she looked beautiful. But she was older now, more mature, more responsible – she considered herself above all that. She began loading the wet dishes into the steam dryer and wiped the water from her hands. "Grades or no grades, he's on parole," Rose said, her voice clipped and mechanical. "He shouldn't be out solar-surfing when he's supposed to keep both feet on the ground."

Three loud knocks sounded from the door, and Sarah hurried outside, balancing a plate in each hand. She dropped them with a shattering crash when she saw James in the doorway, surrounded by two towering robocops, their metal bodies framing him harshly. Glittering silver shock-cuffs were clamped tightly onto her son's wrists, and he looked up with a surly look on his handsome features. At fifteen, he had that boyish youth that created a glow around him, his dark bangs swinging into his sky-blue eyes, a small gold earring twinkling on his ear. His palms were stained with red clay, a sure sign that he had gone solar-surfing in the quarry, and his boots were scuffed from mounting his board multiple times. A long, angry looking scrape was peeking out from underneath his sleeve, and his shirt was torn at the hem – no doubt from a spill on his surfer. Sarah crossed the room with a bound, and Rose was poking her head out from the kitchen door at the sound of the crash. When she saw her younger brother, she sighed and went back to the kitchen. Jim dropped his gaze and glared at the floor. He was sick of his sister's judgmental views on him! It was harmless fun, nothing more. The robocops shoved him inside, out of the rain. "Mrs. Hawkins?" One of them asked, a sound meter registering on a blank screen on the droid's face. Sarah folded her arms.

"Jim!" Sarah said, her brown eyes hurt. Rose gritted her teeth and leaned against the wall. He had gotten caught again, and this time it was going on his record. She fisted a handful of her apron and listened.

"Ma'am, we apprehended your son operating a solar vehicle in a restricted area." The first robocop said crisply, his metallic voice rattling finely around the room. Sarah was suddenly aware that the entire room was listening in, watching her delinquent son get arrested ... again. "As you know, this constitutes a violation of his parole, via section fifteen, paragraph... Uh..." The robocop paused, embarrassed, and Jim broke in, a resigned expression on his face.

"Six?" Jim offered, pulling distractedly at the shock-cuffs. They crackled once, leaving a red welt on his skin, and he winced. The second robocop glared at him.

"Thank you." The first one said pointedly. Jim ground his molars together.

"Don't mention it," he growled.

"He is now restricted to this establishment," The second robocop said.

"Yes, well, couldn't we work something out?" Sarah pleaded. Keeping Jim at home would be like trying to contain a tornado – the teenager was moody and unresponsive to anything she said or did, and when she took away his solar surfer he became downright belligerent. To her relief, she heard a familiar voice behind her. It was Dr. Delbert Doppler, an old friend who frequented the Benbow Inn for the conversation. He was a rather silly-looking Canid, with spectacles perched at the end of his snout, watery, myopic eyes, and tan fur. As Canids go, he was rather handsome, but by Human standards he looked like an old dog standing on his hind legs. He cleared his throat forcefully behind Sarah, attracting the attention of the robocops.

"Excuse me? Pardon me, officers? If I might, uh, interject here?" Delbert said timidly. Sarah resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Delbert was rather anxious and private, resulting in a rather mild-mannered bookworm. "I am Doctor Delbert Doppler, the noted astrophysicist. Perhaps you've heard of me?" He waited a beat, hoping for recognition from the droids. "No? Um, I have a clipping," he said feebly, reaching into his vest pocket.

"Are you the boy's father?" Robocop Number One asked bluntly. Doppler and Sarah both looked at each other with identical looks of complete disgust.

"Oh, no, no, no!"

"Ew!"

"Nothing of the kind!"

"He's just an old friend of the family," Sarah explained. "He's nothing like...ah, nothing like that."

"Back off, sir!" Both robocops barked in unison. Sarah hurried Delbert back to his table, pushing him out of the way slightly and blocking out Delbert's mutterings.

"Thank you, Delbert, I can take it from here." Sarah said. "Yes, Officers, I'll make sure he doesn't leave." Reluctantly it seemed, the robocops unlatched Jim's wrists from the shock-cuffs, revealing his two welted wrists. The teen glared at them as they tipped their hats and departed, shutting the door to the drizzling rain. Sarah pushed Jim forcibly towards the kitchen, her cheeks flushing as conversation slowly resumed in the dining room, the customers whispering about the delinquent boy who often took their orders. When they were safely inside the kitchen, Sarah turned to Jim. "Jim, I have had it! What has gotten into you? Do you want to ruin your life?"

"What life?" Jim spat bitterly. "I don't do anything, don't go anywhere! There's nothing to do in this house, nothing but take care of those stupid customers! What's so wrong about solar-surfing in the quarry? Plenty of other kids do it, and they don't get caught! Those cops just have it in for me." Jim finished his little speech, one that had been heard many times. Sarah looked at him, her eyes firm.

"You're going to stay here, Jim, until your record is cleaned up. I'm not going to stand by and let you throw away your entire future! You have so much potential, Jim!" Sarah said. Jim swallowed, hot tears rising, unbidden, to his eyes. He blinked and rammed the hard lump down his throat. When he spoke, his voice broke slightly.

"What future?" He said, turning away from his mother. His shoulder was a dejected line, small frame slouching in his anger and frustration. Sarah reached out for him, to touch his shoulder, let him know he wasn't alone, and then thought better of it. No doubt the angry teen would brush her off, sarcastic and cold, and wound Sarah with another branded insult. So Sarah sighed, and picked up her serving tray. She had customers to take care of. There was silence in the kitchen for a long moment, and then Jim looked up, his eyes dark. Rose was standing there, watching him, her brown eyes unfathomable. "What?" He snapped. Rose didn't say anything for a long moment, just unpinned her hair and let the chestnut-colored curls fall down around her shoulders. Her small hands untied her apron and hung it on a hook. When she had finished, she opened one of the cupboards.

"Take off your shirt," she said with a sigh. Jim looked at her warily, then peeled off his tunic, revealing a flat, firm torso which had a small line of fuzz disappearing into the waistband of his leggings. He sat down on a chair, and Rose came over with a roll of clean bandages and a bottle of murky liquid. Her practiced eye scanned him in a blink, taking in the subtle bruising on his left side, and his barked shoulder and forearm. His wrists were puffy and red from the shock-cuffs, and she tore off a strip of bandages. "You went too fast on that dozer in the quarry, didn't you?" she said quietly, wrapping his welted wrists. "You always had trouble taking that turn."

"Wasn't my fault," Jim said, just as quietly. "I thought taking a shortcut would shake the cops off."

"Don't do that again," Rose said firmly, and Jim hissed as the ointment came into contact with his skinned shoulder. "Leave those bandages on your wrists tonight. They'll heal by tomorrow." She took both his hands in hers and looked at him. "You're doing it again." She said. "You're passing us off. Dad's gone, Jim, and there's nothing we can do about it."

"Who says this is about Dad?" Jim said angrily, shoving her away and getting up. Her pulled his tunic roughly over his head. "You're the one who seems so hung up on him. You're the one who was so mad that he wasn't here to protect you from that jerk."

"You're not impressing anybody by doing stupid stunts like that." Rose said. When she was angry, she didn't shout. She got quiet and cold, her mouth going tight and her brown eyes turning frosty. "You're going to get hurt going to the quarry – not to mention you're not supposed to be there anyway."

"Why are you so obsessed with rules?" Jim snapped. "Following every little rule in the book won't bring Dad back!"

"Neither will risking your life every day by doing stunts in the quarry with an old solar-surfer." Rose reminded him coldly. "You should try following the rules once in a while, James. It might keep those marks off your record."

"Perfect Rosie," Jim sneered. "Always the law-abiding citizen." He buttoned his jacket angrily and went to the door. He threw the door open and stormed outside into the steady, weeping rain that pattered against the docks. He ignored Rose's call to come back, and instead slammed the door hard, rattling it in its frame. He took the corner of the house and mounted the dustbins, fingers grasping the sagging roof of the Benbow Inn, hauling himself upwards. He had been going to the roof to think ever since he was a child, and he had always loved the view of Montressor Spaceport from this angle. The clouds were low and dreary, clinging the the slender curve of the faraway Spaceport like a shroud. He sighed and leaned against the chimney, his hands going into his pockets. Beneath him, he could hear the incessant burble of the happy patrons, chowing down on the food his mother was preparing for him. And his older sister, Rose, was most likely washing dishes and cooking food perfectly as always.

His fingers found a pebble which must have slipped into his pocket during his tumble in the quarry. Stupid Rose. Always doing everything perfectly. Ever since they were children, Rose had strived to be the best in everything – she wasn't naturally competitive, but she liked to be on top. It had gotten even worse when Leland had left, turning her into a nagging older sister who harped on him for every little mistake. She scolded him for not keeping his room clean, chided him about his grades, argued with him about his solar surfer. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed with her. He flicked the pebble angrily. She never thought how hard it was growing up without a dad, going to school on Father's Day and having to stand there awkwardly when exuberant children paraded their father's up the aisle. She didn't know how stupid he felt when the older kids teased him about his missing father. She hadn't been there when he had raced down to the dock, screaming for his father. She didn't see the blank nothingness in Leland's eyes when the ship pulled away from the dock, didn't see the indifference.

The only time she had ever said anything about missing her father was when she came home one night with a black eye. She had been crying and almost incoherent, but Sarah had coaxed the tale out of her. Luke, a young man Rose had been dating and very seriously considering to marry, had hit her during an argument. Jim remembered the night so vividly, remembered the prickling feeling of helplessness that swept through his body. He was too young – only fourteen at the time – do anything about it. Rose had lashed out for the first time against her father. "He wasn't here!" she had shrieked. "He didn't protect me!" After that night, she never said anything about Leland, except to make Jim behave. The bruise had faded, along with her sharp attitude towards men in general, but Jim remembered. There was always a simmering shame – the desire to cover it up, to make her be quiet about their father. Leland was never mentioned publically – although there were quiet murmurs of sympathy from general mothers. "Shame on him," Jim remembered on mother saying. "Shame on him for leaving a wife and two young children alone!"

His thoughts were disturbed by a whining rattle, like a dying engine. He looked up, and saw an old black ship sputtering towards the docks, smoke belching from its rivets and pipes. A large scorch mark had been tattooed onto its side, and there were several dents in the hull. It crashed against the dock, and Jim slipped off the roof, landing, running, seeing if anybody was hurt or needed help.

All thoughts of Leland vanished like smoke on the wind.

A/N: I'm concerned about making Rose too Mary Sue. Is she? I'm trying to make this fic as non MS as possible. All reviewers will be thanked publically and given a cookie!