January, 2003

When I was a little girl living a life that wasn't very kind, I used to dream about other worlds. Places where someone like me would fit in and flourish. As an adult I've come to realize that it's far better to give myself the power to make whatever world I'm in work for me. Even if I don't fit in, I can still flourish.

I think about this sometimes when I'm with one of the men from far out of time, like Jack or Cort. I don't count Bud in this because there are still so many things about his time period that are current in the U.S. as we enter this new year faced with the brutal uncertainties of impending war.

Cort might have had a few rough spots in the beginning, but he has always seemed able to flourish in whatever patch of a world he finds himself in. I don't know the other men about whom I might wonder in this vein - for instance, how does Maximus find the same meaning in our age which, to me, seems to pale in comparison to his own time? In the Roman world, Maximus' identity as an uncompromising military leader of men was as much a part of him as the air he breathed. I imagine his viewpoints on his own life's lessons would be quite unexpected and absolutely riveting. Someday, I hope to have that kind of conversation with him.

But the man for whom I'd taken on the responsibility of Number One was really the only one I was concerned about in this time. For Jack, I often wondered, did leaving his world to come to ours mean making sacrifices he would have preferred not to have made if he'd really had a choice? Did he have to leave some things behind for which he would always long and for which he'd always search for replacements?

I asked him about this when he returned to me from his first visit back his old world. To that time when he'd been everything to the men he commanded aboard the Surprise, when it was he who made the difference between life and death for so many people.

Now, he has never really answered me in point blank terms. I think my Jack fears his answers might either disturb me or hurt me. He's wrong about that, but he hasn't figured that out yet. I would never be surprised by his feelings, but then I don't look at it that he ever had a choice about coming into our world. The reality is, this is the world in which he exists now and all I want is for him to find a way to flourish in it.

Still, I had encouraged him to work with Nash to figure out where his portal was and to make a short trip back to the Surprise. Part of the reason I did was that I hoped having that freedom to return when he felt the need would help him - so that the act of missing what he'd left behind wasn't a hindrance to enjoying what he'd gained by coming here to us.

And I knew that one very big thing he missed was his particular friend, Dr. Stephen Maturin. We all knew it, didn't we? However, never in a million years did I think he'd bring Stephen back with him! But, it's a good thing he did because Stephen was the only reason we made it through the whole mix-up SID engineered to bring together the reckoning among Uma, Terry, Jack and myself.

The day that Terry and Uma left after our tumultuous and unasked-for time together, I confess Stephen's presence let me tune out and dive into my own mind where I needed to place a few issues to right, so to speak.

Eventually, I did find myself back in observational mode and from a self-imposed psychic distance, I regarded them as I prepared dinner. They were sitting together at my kitchen table, sipping a pre-dinner wine. I'd introduced them both to a nice merlot because I hadn't yet taken Jack to a wine shop to look for things I knew he'd probably enjoy more and they'd both been good sports about trying something new. Well, don't think too harshly of me - at least I did have a good port on hand for after dinner.

While Stephen tried to glance over the newspaper, Jack was explaining to him about the music filtering through my house. Letting the paper drop to the table, Stephen listened attentively to Jack's halting and largely futile explanation of the CD's ability to transmit recorded sounds through the stereo system.

Then Jack's eyes crinkled suddenly and I could tell Stephen knew what was coming. He sat there patiently waiting for Jack to say something only Jack would find witty. "You see, my dear Stephen, it has been challenging taking to this new time. But I am determined to make an overture to this age through its music. Oh, ha ha ha."

Stephen gave a small smile of affection but still gave a quick roll of his eyes at Jack. "Brother, any overture on your part into this age or its music would be an advance of which the women in this world should be warned, I am sure. But I give you joy for what you have found here."

"So you did smoke it, Stephen? An overture? Meaning both an advance as well as the opening piece of music?"

"Yes, my good sir, I did. Now I wish to turn your attention solely to music. Surely, Jack, you have at least begun to study how the changes in composition of music has mirrored the advance of time and philosophy between our age and this one? I have always believed that the soul of an age and of a people are best revealed through its music. I am not one of those who believes political machinations are anything more than the most fleeting of human endeavors. Music, though, is quite another matter entirely."

I stopped cooking for a while and just took in the scene before me. The ease they had with each other, the way Jack seemed to be more relaxed and yet so enlivened by his friend's familiar presence. How Stephen seemed to regard Jack as the missing piece to himself. Like an old married couple. I wondered if the conversations they held when I was around were merely extensions of conversations they'd been holding for years as they sailed together.

Turning back to the stove, I half-listened as the conversation went from a philosophical exploration of music and then somehow turned to more personal discussions of some mundane new things Jack was learning about our age. From toilets to clothes to electricity to cars to computers to paper to pens to conventions to morals to women.

In what passed for a whisper for Jack, he confided in Stephen about the women he'd met so far. About how different we regarded ourselves than women in their time. About how we were so much more independent and openly opinionated. About how our own desires seemed in perfect tune to his own "manly drives."

My ears perked up at this part of the discussion. The women of this age he'd met so far, Jack confided to Stephen, seemed more like men in that they had a will to experience sex without any shame. And yet, he said, they never lost their femininity. Ah, well, nice to hear, Jack, I thought to myself. I caught Stephen's slow smile of appreciation as I glanced at them.

Gee, I had to wonder if this was the closest to locker room talk I'd get from them?

How much they needed the other's friendship and talents! Jack and Stephen had missed each other, that was obvious. And they were both relieved to have found a way they knew would always exist for them to still get together on occasions. In witnessing the tangible aspects of that friendship, though, I realized that so many of the things I admired about Jack I'd first seen through Stephen's eyes in the founding books. No wonder, then, that I felt such a kinship with the good doctor.

It was Stephen's gift to me, I realized, his ability to see within his friend and share it as the observer in the founding books. It was the reason I'd wanted to meet Jack Aubrey even though we are so different that you might have thought we would never have related to each other.

Where Jack is instantly open and hearty with new acquaintances, I typically wait to make a decision on whether I will like a new person. Jack's normal disposition is sunny; mine would like to be, but it's a constant battle. When a crisis happens, Jack steps into command; I begin damage control and counsel the response of those in charge. When faced with an enemy, Jack goes to war and accepts that large casualties have to be an expected outcome no matter how the loss of life may cause him sorrow later; I find a weakness and exploit it. Jack is so inclined to trust people he believes are professionals or who have more knowledge about non-nautical things; I am a cynic and accept nothing until I verify the facts. Jack rarely seems able to hide his feelings; I have often been told I am a tough read until you get to know me.

I am a woman he least expected to know; he made an impact on me I never saw coming.

He has always seemed to be able to call up within me the woman who needs taking care of as much as she needs to take care of someone else. I have this need to mother him, at least for a while, until I'm sure he's really acclimated to our world. He says he likes the way I am willing to watch over him, yet the more he's with me, the more I realize he protects me with a strong and deft hand. He is smart in that, because he's judged me well from the beginning - he knew instinctively that I would never respond to a heavy handed man for more than a quick romp.

And don't let Jack's reputation for bumbling moves ashore fool you. He brings with him to our world much more of Lucky Jack than I gave him credit for in the beginning. That unashamed pirate, that honorable commander, that brutal military man, that shrewd tactician, that masterful Goldilocks? They are there strong in him, and as he grows more comfortable with me, the more he lets that part of himself shine.

Jack also has an inbred romanticism in him that is capable of totally commanding me with a direct look or a whispered "sweetheart."

That night, Stephen disappeared into his room early and Jack came to join me in the luxury of a bubble bath. My tub is so big I can almost swim in it, so there's plenty of room for two. He slid down behind me and got in my way as I tried to wash. I finally whipped around and dunked him under the suds in retaliation.

He came spluttering up with an evil glint in his eyes that made me laugh in the same instant it made my heart jingle in my chest.

"Oh my," I whispered to him as he advanced on me where I had retreated to the other side of the tub. He paused when I stopped smiling. "You're all wet."

Tilting his head at me, he replied softly, "And who is the cause of that, my dear?"

"No. I mean ... Jack, you look ... I mean ... your hair." Why did it so often seem that words were so hard for me to control when I spoke?

"You have often seen me wet, Ann." Reaching for me.

"In the shower, sure. But this is ... different. It's like I'd imagined you coming out of the sea after leaping from the rail of the Surprise. With your hair down like this and ... bare chest and ... muscles flexing and ..." Reaching for him.

"Ah, I see." Quiet, intense voice but not at all a soft tone. "I believe I would have cut my swim short if I had your supple flesh awaiting me in my cot."

Nervous in the face of his hungry longing. "But, Jack, you never liked having women on board your ship when you were a Captain."

"For you, my little dear, I might have made an exception. I always understood why some Captains took their ladies to sea with them. The thought of leaving the quarterdeck, where the entire crew needed to believe you were omniscient, to the luxury of someone in whom you could confide and seek comfort when you were tired of the realities of command, or when you were not confident in your decisions. A soft bosom and a warm, lively, affectionate companion waiting for you below - what a refuge."

"I would have been just as sure of your mastery of the sea as any of your crew or passengers," I told him. Raised my eyebrows at him and smiled. "But I would definitely have let you enjoy my soft bosom and I would have been more than willing for anything you might have had in mind."

"Someday, sweetheart, I would have you come back with me for just a brief time. I believe you would find my world inspiring to your imagination, though I would never believe you to be a woman willing to accept life on those terms."

I put a hand to his cheek and felt the reality of our connection. "There's only one aspect of your world that I think I really want to see, and that's your Surprise upon the waves. To just have one glimpse with my own eyes of you on the quarterdeck. That would be enough for me, truly."

He settled down in front of me and regarded me like I was an eternal puzzle to him. "Truly? You have such curiosity about so many things, Ann. That is all you would ever hope for? Or are you imagining the Surprises in battle?"

"That's a part of your world I'd never want to witness. But, the reality is, it doesn't appear going through your portal will be an easy decision for me. Come let me hold you, Jack, while I tell you some things Bou has learned with Nash." I made him turn around and lean back into my hold on his body. Slowly, I began washing his chest and whispered Bou's words of wisdom about the possible risks if we went back into the men's worlds through their portals without fully planning it out. I'd begun to believe that the chances might not be worth any thrill it might give me to see him in his own environment.

One thing she'd explored was how very difficult it would be for a modern woman to fit in back in a time such as Jack's. Of all the women in the group, it might have been me who would have the roughest time with that. I might be able to hold myself in check for a day or so, but longer than that? The societal expectations and restrictions, the accepted roles - I'd blow it much quicker than most no matter how hard I tried and how prepared I might be.

It'd probably be easier for me to go back disguised as a boy than as a woman, I told Jack. He laughed so hard I thought he might choke.

"You could sneak me on board as your cabin boy," I teased him. "No one would be the wiser."

He turned around in my hold and regarded me. "And how would you take to instantly and without question obeying my every command?"

"Like Hando, I'd have some issues, I'm sure," I giggled to him.

"Strict discipline is at the bottom of a happy ship," he said, adopting his Lucky Jack face for me, his voice a gravel of warning. "I would hate to have to resort to punishment in order to instill within my cabin boy the proper deference to my orders."

"Like Killick? You never seemed to mind his backtalk." He blinked at me and I knew this was probably not a wise thing to have said. "Hey, we're just kidding around here, right? I'm not going back as your cabin boy. I don't see me ever going back with you."

His eyes dropped to my breasts and one hand reached to fondle me there. "Just one night. Think on that, my sweetheart. One night with me there? When I was on the Surprise this time, I often thought of how I would enjoy having you with me if only for the briefest night. Does it not interest you, even in the slightest? I find myself growing attracted to the idea of showing my world to you. Think on the stars I could show you."

"How would you explain my presence, Jack? I couldn't just show up in the middle of a cruise ..."

"You could come aboard when we were in port," he countered with a firm voice and I knew he'd actually thought about this more than I'd realized. "We can control some things about our entry to my time, from what your Mr. Nash has surmised. When I went back, I knew the exact moment to step in so as to cause the least disturbance to the events unfolding in that time."

We regarded each other. Why did the fact that he wanted me to come back with him make me feel so warm? Why did it feel like one of the most romantic notions he'd ever had with me?

His lips hovered close to mine and we seemed to be breathing together, as if we were supporting the other's very ability to draw the next gulp of life-sustaining air within our bodies. I leaned toward him, that final inch, to feel the way his lips gripped mine within a force field of devotion. His arm slid ever so slowly around my waist and drew us together as he settled softly into me.

Jack had once told me he could learn all he needed to know about my feelings through a kiss. Perhaps that's why he'd always seemed to have the key to me from that first kiss when he'd taken me by surprise.

I could feel his heat radiate to me through the warmth of the surrounding bathwater. How does that happen? I sense it's more than his actual body raising the temperature of the water but more like some type of temporal disturbance caused by a man with the ability to make my very blood boil from the passion he can stir within me. Ah, perhaps that's too romantic of a notion? But Jack frees me to feel that particular curse of whimsy as a light skip of my spirit.

It felt like floating within his affection for me. Then there was the feel of his hardness pressing rhythmically against me as he moved to make his intentions known. The surf of the bathwater's movement broke against us with liquid caresses as gentle as the ones of his hand upon my body. As that hand moved from my breast ever lower, I gasped into the kiss and we broke inches apart.

Without a word, he turned us both to place his body beneath mine. I looked down at him, his head leaning upon the edge of the tub, the peach tones of marble forming a marvelous backdrop to the streams of his hair, its brightness muted by the force of wetness within its strands. With just my fingertips, I stroked across the dew of moisture crowning the skin of his face, concentrating on storing this memory of the way the drops lingered upon the firm edges of his jaw and those soft spaces under his eyes. I bent to lick through the beads that clung to his throat and closed my eyes at the feel of the stubble there as it stood in defiance of my tongue's movement.

His strong hands at my waist drew my body up to where he could kiss my breasts into hard, damp peaks, and I felt a rush of my body's answering moisture below as I felt my craving for him speed my heart's beating.

"Softly now, my little dear," he cooed to me. "Let me help you reach another height."

I gave myself over to his strength and never felt weak. 

When you think about it, isn't this as it should be? Having a man confident and bold enough to not feel the need to conquer you? Someone who can have a victory over you that never diminishes your own sense of worth? Able to relish the part of you that takes perseverance on his part to break through without destroying it?

His movements inside me. My movements against him. The increasingly frenetic movement of the water in response. His shifting body gaining new purchase within me. My shifting body increasing the friction against him. Water shifting as a fluid blanket adding to the crest that came first to me and then finally to him as he thrust into me from the weakness of his overwhelming power.

I snuggled into his hold after, willing my heart to slow its gallop even as against my ear his own heart beat a hard, fast tattoo. His whispered endearments dripped into me. His body accepted my repose against him.

"Tell me a story," I asked him. But rather than answering me, he helped me gain my feet as I stood upon the bathroom's carpet and let him dry me from head to toes. As I wrapped a towel around my hair, he dried himself and then led me to bed. I rested against his chest as he sat up at the headboard and told me of his travel back to the Surprise.

Shut my eyes to visualize what he told me. I could listen to Jack's voice forever when he talks to me in this way that seems so intimate and revealing of him. As I drowsed there with him, I felt myself slip into this haze as he told me a bedtime story of his travels.

I had arranged for his plane to San Diego to be met by my old family friend Doug, who needed no deep explanations from me as to why I felt Jack needed someone to watch over him, deliver him to where his portal should be and then to get him back to the airport after his week was over to come home to me. But that's Doug, and when I say old I mean old enough to be an ex-hippie still happily believing in the ideals of the 60s counterculture movement and always blithely willing to be a friend to any friend of mine.

San Diego was where the Rose, the stand in for filming Jack's adored frigate, the Surprise, was still docked until it moved back to its homeport of Bridgeport, Connecticut. He and Nash had selected this as the most likely location of his portal.

"I felt the shifting begin the moment I entered my cabin and knew I had truly found the portal," he said, his voice bringing the wonder of the moment to life for me. "It was not so much stepping through something as it was to feel that the very air was disturbed, like a turbulent wave, then step within it and move on. It was the most magical of moments for me, and I had so wished for you to be with me."

Instantly upon going through, he was hit by an unexpected wave of nausea. Unexpected by someone like Jack, who might have spent so much time on the oceans that he had something in his constitutional makeup that made it rare for him to ever experience such a phenomenon as seasickness. He said he only had to wait a few uneasy moments for it to pass and he was fine.

"When I stepped through the portal, it was as if not a thing was out of place and I felt ..." Looking off to the distance as if he could find the words there. "I was no longer a part of that life or that world and yet ... yet it was so familiar to me. I knew the very moment so exactly."

My eyes found his as I sat up and witnessed the way the experience still impacted him.

He'd stepped back in time in more ways than one, you see. He'd gone back in time from 2003 but he'd also chosen to go back to a time earlier than when he'd left his world to come to this world. He'd done so because it was a moment when he knew exactly where the 'him' of that other time would be.

It had been a moment in Gibraltar when all had been an uncharacteristic mass of confusion aboard the frigate as the Surprises readied for a six-month voyage without its full complement of officers. He chose a day when he'd both be overseeing the crew aboard as well as ashore racing to deal with recalcitrant outfitters and a Port Admiral not bent to help him find enough good crew for the trip.

My Jack had been as excited as a child, and I could picture him set loose aboard his Surprise again, rushing to absorb the experience. His hands could not stop feeling the wood; he climbed to the top of the mast, he searched the horizon through eyes eager to take it all in. His feet enjoyed the race back to the deck and even were happy to clamber below deck to check on the progress of the hold's preparation.

He took care to have minimal meaningful interaction with his crew, lest he inadvertently give a command or make a statement that would interfere with the way the future was supposed to unfold. Yet he had tried to gently hint at one or two changes to his Purser only to have the poor man become so perplexed that Jack gave it up.

"It was like the swine were eating the pearls," he said, shaking his head sadly at the memory of not being able to offer advice that might have made things better for them all. But as soon as that mangled adage was out of his mouth, he looked at me with a confused face. "No, that is not quite it, is it? What I meant to say, as it were, it was as if the pearls were made from a cow's ear. No, that is not quite it either."

I did my best not to laugh but it was a good thing he was deep within his story, because if he'd really been paying attention, there's no way he could have missed me hiding a grin.

Stephen had been aboard, as Jack knew, resting after being rushed back from a birding trek. And even though Jack had been dressed in the uniform and breeches he'd been in when he came to us, something in him was different enough that Stephen had been concerned.

Now, you know that Jack is among the easiest of men to read when his emotions are flowing. His joy at seeing his friend was overflowing, nearly pulling him from his seat into his arms. In no time, he had blurted it out to Stephen, who did not believe Jack for one little minute about our world.

Jack shook his head at me, his damp hair fluttering like it was half-drunk. "Why, the man thought to bleed me. Do you smoke it? He thought I had become as one who belonged in Bedlam. I should not have been surprised to find him clapping me in irons and preparing to beat me as they do those unfortunate souls in that pit of no return, had he not recounted to me so many times how he abhorred the practice."

And, naturally, the only way to prove he wasn't insane was for Jack to bring Stephen back with him through the portal. He'd been in the past less than half a day when they came back together.

"But ... Jack you were gone nearly a week. Where were you the rest of the time?"

"Ah, well, sweetheart, Stephen was determined to see some of this world for himself and how could I have denied him that chance?" Jack said, as if this was the simplest thing imaginable.

If I had known Jack and Stephen were wandering around, by themselves, in modern day San Diego, I would have been worried sick. I started to say as much but I got an instant memory flash of just what had been happening to me about the time they would have returned to our time.

But back they'd come to our time ... alone, unsupervised. Can you just picture them wandering around the wharf dressed as they were? Luckily, for Jack is lucky, since the Rose had become such a minor celebrity, everyone they ran across thought they were simply in period costume for some event to do with the ship.

Jack had learned enough about the need and the way to shop for clothing in our time. And within a few hours, they fit in with their surroundings. They took a room at the hotel where my friend had arranged for Jack to stay his last night in San Diego. Inside the room, they poured over the promotional information about the city and set off the next morning to see it.

Imagine for just one moment what a delight it would be to hear someone like Jack describe being a tourist in San Diego? Naturally, Stephen insisted they go to the San Diego Zoo first. I'd been there so very many years ago but in hearing Jack talk about it, it felt like being there again. There was something about picturing Stephen's absolute delight in the creatures he would see there - it was fun by osmosis.  He let Jack drag him out eventually so they could enjoy a lunch at a nearby Mexican restaurant they'd read about in a brochure in their hotel room.

When Jack spoke of walking through Balboa Park, he made it so real I could almost smell the verdant greens of that jewel. Jack couldn't remember the names of the birds and plants that Stephen saw but did remember the way it felt to have shared his friend's joy of discovery.

They also went to the Maritime Museum and Jack said it was at once comforting to find displays from his time period and at the same time oddly disconcerting to try to absorb the changes since his time. He has still not quite accepted the modern naval vessels and their means of propulsion.

After a full day of adventures, they slept late the next day and as they were relaxing over breakfast, Stephen got the idea that perhaps they should go back through the portal. But this time they would select a time they both wanted to return to.

"Stephen's mind has always been a mystery to me," Jack said thoughtfully. "He is perhaps one of most intelligent men I have had the pleasure to know well, though he does need looking after, of course. He made it so I could follow his logic in this matter. Do you see it? We could still be back aboard the Surprise as much as we wanted. We would just choose those times that offered us opportunities that might have passed us by then. Not to interfere with what had to happen in our world, but to do some exploring. For instance, he never got enough time to observe birds and gather specimen. And that is what he wanted to go back to do, do you smoke it? I would have let Stephen wander as he wished, you see, but I could not let him go by himself. The man has no sense of time and I have seen him lose all track of himself when he goes on one of these expeditions of his."

And this was how they'd spent the majority of the rest of the week. They'd step through the portal, get to the time they desired, and then go off exploring and experiencing. Every day or so, they'd come back to our time and rest.

They only had one close call. They were in Portsmouth and timed their return badly. They had forgotten that in their time, Jack had stayed in port and had been there to accept the message from his first lieutenant, Pullings, that there had been a change in the winds and the tide was rising swifter than they had predicted. And that, if they rushed, they might get to sea a full day earlier than planned. They remembered only when they saw one of the midshipmen rushing frantically toward them. When he delivered the message, Jack and Stephen returned aboard the barge instantly and with Jack driving his men mercilessly, they were able to catch the tide and clear the harbor.

If they had missed the tide, they would have missed intercepting a prize ship off the French coast that they were destined to take. Jack said he'd been terrified of what might have happened if such an important alteration of their history had happened because he'd been careless in his memory of minute events.

"Well, if I ever went back with you, you'd have to promise to be far more careful."

His eyes lit up as he reached for me. Drawing me into his chest and wrapping me up snug within the grip of his strong arms, he said, "So, my dear, you are not yet declaring that you will never return with me? You are becoming intrigued with the idea, I believe?"

"No, Jack, I said 'if' because I was ... it's just a figure of speech," I protested but that smile of his did me in every time. I found myself really considering the idea again. Somehow within the circle of his hold on me, anything seemed possible. Everything seemed an adventure within my grasp. But was I brave enough to do it? "You would have to watch out for me. And you might have to rescue me over and over again because you know I'm never going to fit in back there."

He kissed my lips softly and then leaned back to study me. "Do you know that I will do all within my power, my lady, to be sure that no harm ever comes to you?"

"Yes, beloved, I do know that." Deep breath, long swallow of nerves. "You'll have to help me with this, you know? I mean, you wouldn't be able to leave me alone if I went back there with you."

No smile; his eyes concentrated on me as if he'd not only read my mind but was willing it to do his bidding. "Will you do this for me then, sweetheart? You would be willing to trust in me enough to know that I would never let the slightest harm come to you? Tell me you will give me this gift of your devotion to me. Come back with me through my portal and let me show you. The vision of how your eyes will look upon my world will be the sweetest image I can hold for my future in this world. For our future together," he said.

I mentally calculated and knew it would be several weeks before we could make this happen. Jack would be leaving to visit some other members of our far-flung group before coming home to me for Valentine's Day. And three things dawned on me.

One was that surely in that time I would be able to prepare to go with him for one night. The second was that by then I felt certain another woman in our group would have gone through a portal and could answer any concerns I might have about unknown risks. And the third, and ultimately most important, was what a lovely Valentine's gift I could give to Jack by willingly giving him the devotion he desired.

And without further hesitation, I gave him my answer. Isn't it an amazing feeling to grant someone else's wish?

Valentine's Day. Think on that. Taking a risk for love on the day of lovers? Isn't that just romantic enough to actually work?