The bed was so small that she could smell him. That was the only thing she could think of, in the dark - that she was so close to him, probably closer than she had ever been, except for when they had been kissing. She didn't resist as he grabbed her hand, and suddenly that was all she could think of - his rough callouses on her skin. How hadn't she noticed the callouses when they were kissing, really kissing, and he cupped her face? They seemed so obvious now, the hands of a sailor, and gentle anyways.

She didn't understand the feeling of the grooves until he explained it. Zelda pressed her fingertip down, feeling the carved J. She grinned back at him - his smile was contagious, and he was so enthusiastic about this, and this bed had traveled to the Far East and so had Mr. Darrow.

"So it's like coming home," Zelda whispered to him, her fingers still frozen to his initials. Her eyes had lit up with that contagious excitement. This was like a form of magic - like time travel, in this bunk, just because they were here whispering to each other. "The Voyager. Isn't it?"

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