And the Winds of Destiny...
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Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
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Chapters:
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Views:
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Reviews:
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
14
Views:
3,644
Reviews:
39
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 10 - Transfer of Goods
And the Winds of Destiny, by Hellborne (the_ferret_mom@yahoo.com)
Pirates of the Caribbean – PG-13
Copyright. Characters, not mine. See the Mouse. Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.
Typing convention: / is used for thoughts. # is used for speech/writing in German. * - * - * is used for scene change/elapsed time.
Summary: How do you cheer up a depressed Sparrow?
Beta: The great BetaGoddess Pendragginink. She’s fantastic! And way too modest for her own good!
A/N: Apparently some fangirls went to Greg Ellis and asked him Groves’ first name. I don’t know if it was in reference for fanfics or if he even reads them, but hopefully he doesn’t take offense if he does. Anyway, it’s officially Theodore Groves, so any fics that I had previously done have had the name changed.
IMPORTANT NOTE: This is the sequel to “The Makings of a Pirate”. If you don’t read the first story, you’re missing EVERYTHING, so if you haven’t read it, please go do so and come back or you won’t understand anything.
NOTE: I live for reviews. No reviews, the muses go out gambling (we DO live in Las Vegas, after all) and I can’t get any writing done. Can’t figure out if anyone likes it if they don’t review. So REVIEW! PLEEEEEEZE???
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
May the wind always be at your back
And the sun always upon your face
And the winds of destiny to carry you aloft to dance with the stars.
--Old Irish Blessing as quoted by George Jung (“Blow”)
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Chapter 10 – Transfer of Goods
Captain Huntington grabbed the spyglass and scowled at the ship. “You’re right. That’s the Lord’s Vein.” He ordered Lawrence and MacGreggor into their cabins.
* - * - *
“Bloody hell!” Robert watched as the pirate ship raised her colors. “Moran of all people!” He barked orders and the Pearl began to turn.
* - * - *
The Lord’s Vein slid to windward, bring the Pride of Jamaica under her lee with naught but a warning shot across her bow. Captain Moran boarded the sloop with sword drawn, pistol cocked, and twenty of his men likewise armed, but found Captain Huntington and his men assembled on deck waiting patiently for them, unarmed. “This sloop contains nothing of value, Captain. We are no more than a messenger vessel, but you may search the hold if you wish.”
Moran sent two men to check out the hold. Moran himself signaled Huntington with his pistol to go into the great cabin, two of his men in tow. Inside, they met Lawrence, sitting with his cane across his lap, his legs crossed and propped up on the table. “You’ll find nothing of value here, sir.”
The pirate captain shifted his position to point his pistol at Lawrence’s chest. “On the contrary, Your Highness. I know who you are. YOU, Sir, are valuable enough to turn this ‘messenger vessel’ into the equivalent of a Spanish Treasure Ship. I am quite privy as to the goings on at the Court of St. James. Now, Sir, my men will take your trunks aboard the Vein, and you shall accompany me without a fight, or I shall blow this ship to Davy Jones, an it please Your Highness.”
Lawrence stood, careful to keep his cane at his side. “You need not threaten these good men, sir. I shall accompany you peacefully, although you are gravely mistaken as to my value.” As Lawrence and Captain Moran emerged from the cabin, the two men still inside began packing and moving the chests.
* - * - *
“Sail Ho!”
Captain Moran did not like what he saw through the spyglass. “Damn all the luck!” The black sails of the Pearl told the pirate captain all he needed to know. “Prepare for company! The Black Pearl will be here within the hour!” The crew scrambled to their appointed tasks.
* - * - *
“Why Captain James, what a pleasant surprise! What brings you to my humble ship?”
Robert shook Moran’s hand. “You have something I need, Colin, I require the Stewart boy, and I mean to take him by force if I must. However, I’m a reasonable man. As you were the one to capture him, I offer you one thousand guineas for him as a reward.”
“You must be joking, Robert. The ransom he’d bring from his father would be ten times that amount, and that from the Crown would be a hundred times the amount or more.”
“Ah, but they intend only to give the boy power and riches. I mean to use him to get to the murderer of our former captain. I couldn’t possibly afford any more than two thousand.”
“But, Lord Smythe-Douglass has never deigned to bother the Lord’s Vein. Why should I take less than eight thousand guineas?”
“Because Jack Sparrow was even less bloodthirsty than you, Colin, and you know it...yet his gold teeth sit as a trophy in the governor’s office, or have you not heard the tales? I suppose I could talk the men into twenty-five hundred.”
“Aye, I have. And as I loved Jack Sparrow as my own brother, I’ll let you have the whelp for a mere five thousand.”
Robert grinned. “While that would be a most reasonable price should we be out for simple gain, I believe thirty-five hundred would be fair for blood.”
Colin Moran grinned back. “Agreed, but under the condition that the governor AND his whelp suffer greatly before they die. Anyone who would take the teeth of such a good man as Jack Sparrow, is a barbarian to say the least.”
Robert looked stone-faced at Captain Moran and shook his hand. “We have an accord. Some day you must take me up on my offer to sail under my flag. It would be more lucrative for your men, as they’d be paid an actual wage in addition to their shares.”
“I’m still thinking on that, I promise you. It does sound good, but call me a power-hungry man, I enjoy being the final word on this ship.”
“Do think on it. You would be an asset to the fleet.”
Moran called two men to escort Lawrence from the hold to the deck. Others went for his trunks. Once aboard the Pearl, Lawrence was roughly grabbed and hauled below deck.
Gillette was doing the crew’s laundry when he saw them haul aboard a young man in the fine clothing of an aristocrat, manhandle him across the deck and down into the hold.
When Gillette was finished with the laundry, he strode to the hatch and headed directly to the brig as if he had been sent there. The young man was sitting on the wooden bench with his feet up, leaning back with his eyes closed and whistling. Gillette walked up to the cell door and averted his eyes. “Excuse me, milord. Is there anything I can do to make you a bit more comfortable?”
The man stopped whistling and looked up. “Hello. You aren’t a pirate, are you.”
“No, milord. I am Captain James’ personal slave, but I would be honored to bring you whatever you wish, Sir.”
“Can you get me out of here? I have the power to have you freed and even start you off with the money you’ll need to live for quite some time.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Sir, but if you would like food or bedding? I can do that, Sir.”
Lawrence smiled. “You are a very kind servant. What is your name?”
“John-boy, Sir.”
“You don’t carry yourself like a slave, John-boy. Tell me...what was your name before you were taken into slavery?”
“Jonathan Gillette, Sir.”
“Odd. There is a Commodore Jonathan Gillette at Fort Charles in Port Royal.”
Gillette swallowed hard. This was definitely someone at Court who knew the goings on in Jamaica. “The very same, Sir, though I confess to admitting it reluctantly, Sir.” Lawrence’s eyebrow raised in surprise. Gillette continued. “May I ask your name, Milord, and what brings you to be a prisoner on the Black Pearl, Sir?”
Lawrence took in a breath and let it out slowly. “My name is Lawrence Hanover, formerly Lawrence Stewart, and I am apparently bait to take a man unawares.”
“But Sir, this is the Black Pearl. The captain and crew would never do anything such as that.”
“You speak very kindly of these pirates for a Commodore of the fleet OR a slave.”
“Sir, I only speak the truth.” He paused, thinking about something. “You said you are a former Stewart, milord?”
“Yes, actually. My father and I have just recently been adopted by His Royal Majesty King George the first, and I was on my way to inform my father of the news when the royal messenger sloop was attacked. I must admit that Captain Huntington is quite probably relieved to have his quarters back. I’m afraid I’d commandeered his cabin to keep up appearances.” Lawrence bit his lip to stifle a chuckle.
“Please, Your Highness. Tell me more. I’m afraid Port Royal is quite behind the times with news, Sir.”
“Yes, I suppose it is. Very well. My father, Sir Raymond, Lord Smythe-Douglass and I have been formally adopted by His Majesty. I am bringing Sir Raymond the news personally because I have reason to believe that he would be somewhat less likely to shoot me than the original messenger, and, truth to tell, I wanted to see the look on his face when I inform him that his position has been moved by the King with the consent of the Parliament to the front of the line, so to speak.” He grinned.
Gillette definitely recognized that grin, even out of the corner of his eye. “The members of this crew would never cause harm to the son of Jack Sparrow, Your Highness. What is the real reason you are in the brig?”
Lawrence gave him a slightly sheepish grin. “I am loathe to admit it to you, Commodore, but I’m here to test you. I’m afraid I do take after my father...I’m much better with the truth than with lies.”
“Then I must report to Mr. Turner for punishment. I was not ordered to come here.”
Lawrence stood up and walked to the cell door, pulling a key from his pocket and unlocking his own cell. “Nonsense. I was told that you were too arrogant to accept your fate.” He took Gillette gently by the elbow and brought him up out of the hold. Not seeing Robert anywhere, he guided Gillette to the door of the captain’s cabin and knocked.
“Enter!”
Once inside, Lawrence let go of Gillette, grinning. “Robert, you’ve done a wonderful job with the Commodore! He visited me in the brig, but not once did he show any signs of the arrogance you described. And even upon finding out who my father was, he was still MOST courteous.”
Robert beamed and took Gillette by the shoulder, leading him up to the helm where Will was peacefully steering and staring off at the horizon, no doubt discussing something with the Pearl. Robert called all hands to the quarterdeck, and in a surprisingly short time, the deck was filled with very curious men (and Lizzie).
“Men, you may pat yourselves on the back! Commodore Gillette has passed his lessons successfully, so from this day till we make landfall at Port Royal, ‘John-boy’ is raised in status from slave to first mate and helmsman. You shall call him Mr. Gillette from now on and give him the respect you have afforded me.”
Gillette’s face lit up for only a moment. “Helmsman, Master?”
Robert clapped him on the shoulder, smiling. “Your days of slavery are over, Jonathan, so you may go back to calling me Robert if you wish. And yes, helmsman. You shall learn everything there is to know about steering a ship, Jonathan, before we make land in Port Royal.”
Meanwhile, Will was positively beside himself with glee. “I was beginning to lose hope, Commodore. And I apologize for the harsh treatment I gave you. I do want you to know that there was no enjoyment in my beating you, no matter the appearance.”
Gillette was still in shock as Lawrence and Will escorted him to the captain’s cabin and dug out some clothes for him to wear, then Will brought him to the cabin next door. “This cabin is yours till you leave us in Port Royal.” Will started helping Gillette get the cabin comfortable. “Nobody’s stayed here since Anamaria left, I’m afraid.”
Shortly afterward, they heard the captain’s cabin door open and close, followed by discussion in the room, then silence. The captain’s cabin door opened and closed again, and there was almost immediately a knock on his door. “Yes?”
The door opened and Robert dragged a sea chest into the room. There was a hammock draped over the chest. “I’m afraid we’ll have to share quarters till we dock in Port Royal. It seems that Lawrence has decided that he likes my cabin.”
Gillette tried to stifle a giggle, failing miserably. “His Highness Prince Lawrence did say something about Captain Huntington probably being glad that he could have his own quarters back, as His Highness had commandeered it to ‘keep up appearances’. Apparently His Highness enjoys ‘keeping up appearances’.”
“His Highness?”
“He’s not told you?” Robert shook his head. “He and his father have both been adopted by His Royal Majesty King George. Apparently Raymond is to be our next king.”
Robert laughed. “I almost pity Prince Lawrence when he tells his father.” Gillette laughed with him as Robert proceeded to string up the hammock. “Bunk or hammock, Jonathan?”
“Hammock is fine, Robert. After sleeping on the floor for over two months, the hammock will feel like a feather bed.”
For the balance of the journey back to Port Royal, Gillette became most proficient with handling all aspects of the ship, and took to the helm of the Pearl like a man in love.
As they sailed past Rackham’s Cay into Port Royal, Jonathan Gillette could be seen at the helm, entranced much the same way Robert and Will usually were when they held the wheel; talking to the Pearl; his hands moving the wheel on their own accord, Commodore Jonathan Gillette docked the ship, guiding her to mooring as if he’d been sailing his whole life.
* - * - *
TBC
A/N: I don't know whether I'll be posting any more of my fics/chapters here ever again...I've lost interest in posting where I'm obviously being ignored...I get hardly any reviews for my most popular fics recently, and these non-lemons are being ignored by EVERYONE...Maybe I'll never write another lemon as long as I live, which, according to the doctors, will be within 1-2 years now due to congestive heart failure added to the mix of other lovely medical problems I've got. I'd kind of like to go out being loved...or hated...anything but ignored! Hit the REVIEW button and tell me what you think of my writing please...Let's face it, I'm DEPRESSED!
Pirates of the Caribbean – PG-13
Copyright. Characters, not mine. See the Mouse. Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.
Typing convention: / is used for thoughts. # is used for speech/writing in German. * - * - * is used for scene change/elapsed time.
Summary: How do you cheer up a depressed Sparrow?
Beta: The great BetaGoddess Pendragginink. She’s fantastic! And way too modest for her own good!
A/N: Apparently some fangirls went to Greg Ellis and asked him Groves’ first name. I don’t know if it was in reference for fanfics or if he even reads them, but hopefully he doesn’t take offense if he does. Anyway, it’s officially Theodore Groves, so any fics that I had previously done have had the name changed.
IMPORTANT NOTE: This is the sequel to “The Makings of a Pirate”. If you don’t read the first story, you’re missing EVERYTHING, so if you haven’t read it, please go do so and come back or you won’t understand anything.
NOTE: I live for reviews. No reviews, the muses go out gambling (we DO live in Las Vegas, after all) and I can’t get any writing done. Can’t figure out if anyone likes it if they don’t review. So REVIEW! PLEEEEEEZE???
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
May the wind always be at your back
And the sun always upon your face
And the winds of destiny to carry you aloft to dance with the stars.
--Old Irish Blessing as quoted by George Jung (“Blow”)
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Chapter 10 – Transfer of Goods
Captain Huntington grabbed the spyglass and scowled at the ship. “You’re right. That’s the Lord’s Vein.” He ordered Lawrence and MacGreggor into their cabins.
* - * - *
“Bloody hell!” Robert watched as the pirate ship raised her colors. “Moran of all people!” He barked orders and the Pearl began to turn.
* - * - *
The Lord’s Vein slid to windward, bring the Pride of Jamaica under her lee with naught but a warning shot across her bow. Captain Moran boarded the sloop with sword drawn, pistol cocked, and twenty of his men likewise armed, but found Captain Huntington and his men assembled on deck waiting patiently for them, unarmed. “This sloop contains nothing of value, Captain. We are no more than a messenger vessel, but you may search the hold if you wish.”
Moran sent two men to check out the hold. Moran himself signaled Huntington with his pistol to go into the great cabin, two of his men in tow. Inside, they met Lawrence, sitting with his cane across his lap, his legs crossed and propped up on the table. “You’ll find nothing of value here, sir.”
The pirate captain shifted his position to point his pistol at Lawrence’s chest. “On the contrary, Your Highness. I know who you are. YOU, Sir, are valuable enough to turn this ‘messenger vessel’ into the equivalent of a Spanish Treasure Ship. I am quite privy as to the goings on at the Court of St. James. Now, Sir, my men will take your trunks aboard the Vein, and you shall accompany me without a fight, or I shall blow this ship to Davy Jones, an it please Your Highness.”
Lawrence stood, careful to keep his cane at his side. “You need not threaten these good men, sir. I shall accompany you peacefully, although you are gravely mistaken as to my value.” As Lawrence and Captain Moran emerged from the cabin, the two men still inside began packing and moving the chests.
* - * - *
“Sail Ho!”
Captain Moran did not like what he saw through the spyglass. “Damn all the luck!” The black sails of the Pearl told the pirate captain all he needed to know. “Prepare for company! The Black Pearl will be here within the hour!” The crew scrambled to their appointed tasks.
* - * - *
“Why Captain James, what a pleasant surprise! What brings you to my humble ship?”
Robert shook Moran’s hand. “You have something I need, Colin, I require the Stewart boy, and I mean to take him by force if I must. However, I’m a reasonable man. As you were the one to capture him, I offer you one thousand guineas for him as a reward.”
“You must be joking, Robert. The ransom he’d bring from his father would be ten times that amount, and that from the Crown would be a hundred times the amount or more.”
“Ah, but they intend only to give the boy power and riches. I mean to use him to get to the murderer of our former captain. I couldn’t possibly afford any more than two thousand.”
“But, Lord Smythe-Douglass has never deigned to bother the Lord’s Vein. Why should I take less than eight thousand guineas?”
“Because Jack Sparrow was even less bloodthirsty than you, Colin, and you know it...yet his gold teeth sit as a trophy in the governor’s office, or have you not heard the tales? I suppose I could talk the men into twenty-five hundred.”
“Aye, I have. And as I loved Jack Sparrow as my own brother, I’ll let you have the whelp for a mere five thousand.”
Robert grinned. “While that would be a most reasonable price should we be out for simple gain, I believe thirty-five hundred would be fair for blood.”
Colin Moran grinned back. “Agreed, but under the condition that the governor AND his whelp suffer greatly before they die. Anyone who would take the teeth of such a good man as Jack Sparrow, is a barbarian to say the least.”
Robert looked stone-faced at Captain Moran and shook his hand. “We have an accord. Some day you must take me up on my offer to sail under my flag. It would be more lucrative for your men, as they’d be paid an actual wage in addition to their shares.”
“I’m still thinking on that, I promise you. It does sound good, but call me a power-hungry man, I enjoy being the final word on this ship.”
“Do think on it. You would be an asset to the fleet.”
Moran called two men to escort Lawrence from the hold to the deck. Others went for his trunks. Once aboard the Pearl, Lawrence was roughly grabbed and hauled below deck.
Gillette was doing the crew’s laundry when he saw them haul aboard a young man in the fine clothing of an aristocrat, manhandle him across the deck and down into the hold.
When Gillette was finished with the laundry, he strode to the hatch and headed directly to the brig as if he had been sent there. The young man was sitting on the wooden bench with his feet up, leaning back with his eyes closed and whistling. Gillette walked up to the cell door and averted his eyes. “Excuse me, milord. Is there anything I can do to make you a bit more comfortable?”
The man stopped whistling and looked up. “Hello. You aren’t a pirate, are you.”
“No, milord. I am Captain James’ personal slave, but I would be honored to bring you whatever you wish, Sir.”
“Can you get me out of here? I have the power to have you freed and even start you off with the money you’ll need to live for quite some time.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Sir, but if you would like food or bedding? I can do that, Sir.”
Lawrence smiled. “You are a very kind servant. What is your name?”
“John-boy, Sir.”
“You don’t carry yourself like a slave, John-boy. Tell me...what was your name before you were taken into slavery?”
“Jonathan Gillette, Sir.”
“Odd. There is a Commodore Jonathan Gillette at Fort Charles in Port Royal.”
Gillette swallowed hard. This was definitely someone at Court who knew the goings on in Jamaica. “The very same, Sir, though I confess to admitting it reluctantly, Sir.” Lawrence’s eyebrow raised in surprise. Gillette continued. “May I ask your name, Milord, and what brings you to be a prisoner on the Black Pearl, Sir?”
Lawrence took in a breath and let it out slowly. “My name is Lawrence Hanover, formerly Lawrence Stewart, and I am apparently bait to take a man unawares.”
“But Sir, this is the Black Pearl. The captain and crew would never do anything such as that.”
“You speak very kindly of these pirates for a Commodore of the fleet OR a slave.”
“Sir, I only speak the truth.” He paused, thinking about something. “You said you are a former Stewart, milord?”
“Yes, actually. My father and I have just recently been adopted by His Royal Majesty King George the first, and I was on my way to inform my father of the news when the royal messenger sloop was attacked. I must admit that Captain Huntington is quite probably relieved to have his quarters back. I’m afraid I’d commandeered his cabin to keep up appearances.” Lawrence bit his lip to stifle a chuckle.
“Please, Your Highness. Tell me more. I’m afraid Port Royal is quite behind the times with news, Sir.”
“Yes, I suppose it is. Very well. My father, Sir Raymond, Lord Smythe-Douglass and I have been formally adopted by His Majesty. I am bringing Sir Raymond the news personally because I have reason to believe that he would be somewhat less likely to shoot me than the original messenger, and, truth to tell, I wanted to see the look on his face when I inform him that his position has been moved by the King with the consent of the Parliament to the front of the line, so to speak.” He grinned.
Gillette definitely recognized that grin, even out of the corner of his eye. “The members of this crew would never cause harm to the son of Jack Sparrow, Your Highness. What is the real reason you are in the brig?”
Lawrence gave him a slightly sheepish grin. “I am loathe to admit it to you, Commodore, but I’m here to test you. I’m afraid I do take after my father...I’m much better with the truth than with lies.”
“Then I must report to Mr. Turner for punishment. I was not ordered to come here.”
Lawrence stood up and walked to the cell door, pulling a key from his pocket and unlocking his own cell. “Nonsense. I was told that you were too arrogant to accept your fate.” He took Gillette gently by the elbow and brought him up out of the hold. Not seeing Robert anywhere, he guided Gillette to the door of the captain’s cabin and knocked.
“Enter!”
Once inside, Lawrence let go of Gillette, grinning. “Robert, you’ve done a wonderful job with the Commodore! He visited me in the brig, but not once did he show any signs of the arrogance you described. And even upon finding out who my father was, he was still MOST courteous.”
Robert beamed and took Gillette by the shoulder, leading him up to the helm where Will was peacefully steering and staring off at the horizon, no doubt discussing something with the Pearl. Robert called all hands to the quarterdeck, and in a surprisingly short time, the deck was filled with very curious men (and Lizzie).
“Men, you may pat yourselves on the back! Commodore Gillette has passed his lessons successfully, so from this day till we make landfall at Port Royal, ‘John-boy’ is raised in status from slave to first mate and helmsman. You shall call him Mr. Gillette from now on and give him the respect you have afforded me.”
Gillette’s face lit up for only a moment. “Helmsman, Master?”
Robert clapped him on the shoulder, smiling. “Your days of slavery are over, Jonathan, so you may go back to calling me Robert if you wish. And yes, helmsman. You shall learn everything there is to know about steering a ship, Jonathan, before we make land in Port Royal.”
Meanwhile, Will was positively beside himself with glee. “I was beginning to lose hope, Commodore. And I apologize for the harsh treatment I gave you. I do want you to know that there was no enjoyment in my beating you, no matter the appearance.”
Gillette was still in shock as Lawrence and Will escorted him to the captain’s cabin and dug out some clothes for him to wear, then Will brought him to the cabin next door. “This cabin is yours till you leave us in Port Royal.” Will started helping Gillette get the cabin comfortable. “Nobody’s stayed here since Anamaria left, I’m afraid.”
Shortly afterward, they heard the captain’s cabin door open and close, followed by discussion in the room, then silence. The captain’s cabin door opened and closed again, and there was almost immediately a knock on his door. “Yes?”
The door opened and Robert dragged a sea chest into the room. There was a hammock draped over the chest. “I’m afraid we’ll have to share quarters till we dock in Port Royal. It seems that Lawrence has decided that he likes my cabin.”
Gillette tried to stifle a giggle, failing miserably. “His Highness Prince Lawrence did say something about Captain Huntington probably being glad that he could have his own quarters back, as His Highness had commandeered it to ‘keep up appearances’. Apparently His Highness enjoys ‘keeping up appearances’.”
“His Highness?”
“He’s not told you?” Robert shook his head. “He and his father have both been adopted by His Royal Majesty King George. Apparently Raymond is to be our next king.”
Robert laughed. “I almost pity Prince Lawrence when he tells his father.” Gillette laughed with him as Robert proceeded to string up the hammock. “Bunk or hammock, Jonathan?”
“Hammock is fine, Robert. After sleeping on the floor for over two months, the hammock will feel like a feather bed.”
For the balance of the journey back to Port Royal, Gillette became most proficient with handling all aspects of the ship, and took to the helm of the Pearl like a man in love.
As they sailed past Rackham’s Cay into Port Royal, Jonathan Gillette could be seen at the helm, entranced much the same way Robert and Will usually were when they held the wheel; talking to the Pearl; his hands moving the wheel on their own accord, Commodore Jonathan Gillette docked the ship, guiding her to mooring as if he’d been sailing his whole life.
* - * - *
TBC
A/N: I don't know whether I'll be posting any more of my fics/chapters here ever again...I've lost interest in posting where I'm obviously being ignored...I get hardly any reviews for my most popular fics recently, and these non-lemons are being ignored by EVERYONE...Maybe I'll never write another lemon as long as I live, which, according to the doctors, will be within 1-2 years now due to congestive heart failure added to the mix of other lovely medical problems I've got. I'd kind of like to go out being loved...or hated...anything but ignored! Hit the REVIEW button and tell me what you think of my writing please...Let's face it, I'm DEPRESSED!