John Porter & Jenny: The Windward Passage

Part X

Author Note: O.K. this is rated "Mature" for a reason. I know there are some readers who like the fact I go light on the smexy, but this time I just went for it. You've been warned. :)

Part X

We left Jamaica two days later, heading west through the Yucatan (affectionately renamed the "Pukatan" for its rough seas) straight south west of Cuba. Entering the Gulf of Mexico we only saw one miles-long thin arm of the oil that had been gushing out of the ruptured Deepwater Horizon well, but that was enough to make many of us weep. We bid farewell to the Cuauhtemoc and to the Elissa, who we heard also lost members of their compliment when Robert went missing in Jamaica and Jane stayed behind to deal with the police. I prayed that he would resurface; hangover, sunburned, and repentant, but quietly assumed he was probably jumped by the same gang who had attacked us and was just was not as fortunate.

The remainder of the voyage was a blessing of hard work that let me stay on deck until I dropped or was shoved below. We had some new scientific equipment to runs test on, which meant a lot of sail handling to get the ship into position to the current and at the right speed. Trying to bring up Niskin sampling bottles from 1000 feet when they have drifted to the other side of the hull is nerve wracking at best. I tried to lose myself in the physicality of it, just the constant movement and focus. Even doing the various types of rope coils can have a meditative quality to it. I shot the sun and the stars daily to plot our position. I took advantage of the time I now had to catch up mingling with the rest of the crew. In short, I tried to enjoy the trip for what it was supposed to be and forget what it had been. I had never intended to find a relationship when I walked onboard and I did not end up with one. Fine.

I hate being a grown up sometimes.

But standing alone on bow watch in the dark with nothing but the motion of the ship and sounds of the sea, the empty space of where a tall shape and deep voice used to be resonated with the ache in my chest. Sometimes as I fell asleep I would catch his rich, earthy musk, as if it still clung to my skin.

I wondered what changed his mind. If I had misread his intentions, I was puzzled what signs I had missed. There were some moments the night immediately leading up to it, odd flashes of detachment, but even Kevin and Rene, the only two I confided in, were mystified.

"The bastard!"

I shook my head "He didn't make any promises Rene. The only thing he said was that he wanted to see where it went. I guess it just it did not go far enough for him." I shrugged. "It's just one of those things."

"Still sucks," Kevin said, leaning against the shroud as we lounge in the headrig watching the bow cut through the dark blue waves.

"Yeah, but what are you going to do?" I shrugged again. "If he doesn't, he doesn't. No point trying to force it down his throat. I just have to take what I can from it...It's nice to be reminded I can feel this way about someone. Though it would be nicer if the someone who turned that engine over stuck around to drive it."

Kevin clapped my shoulder before he climbed back over the hull to answer a call from the Captain.

Rene just shook her head. "It's just so bizarre. You guys just…You were like the ship's cats. Independent and a bit aloof, but you curled up together so well. I would have never guessed…"

There was nothing in John's conduct that said he was anything other than a good man who had been open and honest and not taken advantage me, if perhaps he had allowed my feelings to get carried away when he wasn't sure of his. The only explanation I could come up with, when I could finally face it, was that he had mentioned a casual relationship with a coworker. Perhaps he had decided to pursue that more seriously. If having things in common and understanding the demands of his work were his priorities in choosing a mate, that would certainly make sense.