"Have you worked anywhere else?" Hudson asked quietly. They had both dropped their voices when they reached the main lobby.

"If you don't count coaching soccer while I was in high school, then no," Ty said. She glanced at the clock behind the customer service desk and grimaced. Her alarm clock would not be her friend when it went off in a couple of hours.

"And how long have you worked here?"

"Five years," she yawned.

"So you started working right after you ran away from home?" He asked it in a nonchalant way, but this was the third time his questions had circled back around to the fact that she had run away from home.

She shook her head sleepily and hit the call button for the elevator. "You aren't getting that story out of me tonight. Accept it."

"Come on..."

"No. I have to keep some mystery, or else you might get bored of me."

He gave a surprised laugh. "I don't think anyone could get bored of you."

She smiled appreciatively and motioned him onto the elevator. He held his peace for the ride, but once they stepped out into the hallway, he couldn't help it. "Here's your last chance," he taunted as they walked towards his room.

She stopped walking, making him pause as she touched his arm. She looked at him with concern. "I guess..." she started like she was still working the idea out in her head. "I guess this is my last chance. I mean, after tonight I won't see you..." She looked at her watch, then said flatly, "for five hours."

"A lot can happen in five hours."

"Hopefully a lot of sleep," she said.

"And brushing your teeth," he offered.

She laughed but nodded. "At least twice."

"And eating. Do you do that?"

"I do. And you? Do you eat?"

He nodded. "I do. Speaking of eating," he grew serious, "I heard the craziest thing the other day."

She perked up at the change of tone. "Do tell."

"I heard... Okay, this might sound crazy," he prefaced, "but I heard that sometimes people get together to eat." He looked at her like he had just landed the biggest revelation.

"What?!? No way. Get out of town," she said. He nodded. "So, what you're saying is..."

"Have breakfast with me?" he said bluntly.

She smiled at his quick change of tactics. "Okay. But it's going to be early," she warned. "I'm talking seven AM. That's in a couple of hours."

"Have I not mentioned the early morning workouts?" She laughed and he continued, "I imagine the restaurant isn't open that early, so shall we meet at the buffet?"

"Too public," she said.

"Okay. Where do you usually have breakfast?"

"In the mess hall," she said. "With all of my fellow employees. What about your room?"

"The room I share with five other guys?" he asked.

"Well..." She shrugged her shoulders. "I guess it isn't..."

"How about the utility closet?" he offered.

She frowned. "Where we first met?"

"Yes," he said, brightening. "It'll be perfect. And I can't imagine it draws a crowd that early in the morning."

"You want to have breakfast in the utility closet?" He shrugged as if to say 'why not?' "You really want to avoid that morning workout."

"You have no idea," he said.

She laughed and nodded. "Okay. Breakfast it is. I'll supply the bagels and coffee."

"And I'll supply the witty charm."

She chuckled. "Don't be late," she warned, "or else I'll drink all your coffee."

The next morning, Ty kept her eyes low as she stepped into the mess hall. She avoided looking at her crowd's usual table and headed for the buffet line, a small paper bag swinging from her wrist. She was running late and wanted to avoid any interaction with her co-workers.

The fact that she wouldn't be eating with them was enough for them to ask questions, if they saw her packing food they would jump to conclusions. While their conclusions were generally never right, they had a tendency of spreading throughout the crew as fact.

She slipped in and out of people as she snatched items, cups of yogurt, bagels, and fruit. She made it to the coffee stand without any interaction when a heavy hand came down on her shoulder.

"Bennett," Johnny said enthusiastically.

She winced at the firm grip on her shoulder and his loud voice.

"Johnny," she said, continuing to fill two cups with coffee.

"Last night was brilliant," he sang. "What's the plan for tonight?"

"Tonight...?" she said uncertainly, adding milk and sugar.

"Wrong! We make the same play as last night."

"I don't know, I have to look at my schedule."

"That Hudson dude is a chump," Johnny laughed, not even paying attention to Ty. "After last night, he has almost as many bets riding on him as Bianca. Yo, Nico!"

Ty gritted her teeth as Johnny yelled across the room and announced her location to everyone in the mess hall.

"Johnny," Nico called back. He cut through the tables to join them. He bumped Johnny's fist and tried to take one of the cups of coffee from Ty but she slapped his hand away. "Last night was..." He kissed his fingers and raised them in the air like he was an Italian chef trying a delicious meal.

"I'm a genius," Johnny boasted. He turned to Ty, "tell me I'm a genius."

"I'm not sure that's the word people use to describe you," she mocked. Johnny gave her a cold look.

"I've made a lot of money," Nico said, "and it's only the third day."

"Right," Johnny said, suddenly losing interest in the conversation. "Oh look, there's..." his sentence died off as he walked away.

"How much do you think he's lost so far?" Ty asked as she and Nico watched Johnny walk away.

"I don't want to know. I've won a lot and I don't want to feel guilty about it," Nico said.

"That's a great strategy," she joked. "Just stick your head in the sand. I heard the worst that happens is you end up with some sand in your ears."

"Hey!" Nico said defensively, "it's not my fault that Johnny never wins. I don't force him to set up these betting rings. He does it all on his own. I just profit from them."

"You are the only one."

"Now, now," Nico's eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms. "I know that's not true. Don't try to tell me you didn't enjoy flirting with Mr. Hot-Stuff all last night." Ty gave him an indignant look. "No Nico, I hate having to deal with the crazy," he continued, raising his voice high to mimic a girl's voice. "I hate having a wealthy, good-looking guy paying me attention. Moan moan moan, gripe gripe gripe. My life is so hard." He finished with a challenging smirk.

"Is that really what you think I sound like?" she asked in disbelief. "I really need to work on my voice. How about this?" She dropped her voice ridiculously low. "Is this better?" Her voice came out more like a growl and she could feel it straining her vocal chords.

"You would have to ask Mr. Hot-Stuff," he said, giving her a teasing smile. He knew exactly what she had been trying to do. She pursed her lips, annoyed her distraction tactic didn't work.

She grabbed the two cups of coffee, giving Nico an annoyed glare as she turned to leave and almost ran into Anders. But somehow Anders managed to steady her while keeping a firm grip on his full tray of food.

"Thanks," was all he said, as he reached out and grabbed one of the cups from her. He drank down half the contents of the cup before she could tell him it wasn't meant for him.

She turned back to the coffee station to get a second cup only to find Nico leaning against the counter, his arms crossed as he gave her a cocky smile. His eyes went down to the bag looped over her arm and his smile grew.

"Going somewhere with all that food?" he challenged her.

She pressed her lips shut, knowing a defensive response was exactly what he was fishing for.

"Our table. Where else," Anders answered, looking at his tray full of food. He frowned at Nico with concern. "How hungover are you?"

"Anders, I wasn't..."

"Yeah, Nico, how hungover are you?" Ty quickly chimed in. "Anders always eats this much food."

Anders leaned in close to inspect Nico's face, looking for the degree of how hungover he was. Nico shoved him away and turned to Ty, but the distraction had been enough to allow her to escape. She was already halfway across the mess hall once he spotted her. He only called her name once before she slipped out of the door.

Ty walked the fine line between running and walking as she made her way from the mess hall to the utility closet as fast as she could without drawing any attention to herself. When she reached the door, she took a deep breath.

She was prepared to apologize for her tardiness, but the moment she stepped into the utility closet she forgot everything she was going to say. Something was different. Hudson greeted her, but she didn't say anything as she completed a full circle, taking in the space.

"Did you organize in here?" she asked, facing him again.

"How much time do you spend in here?" he questioned, reaching for the cup of coffee.

She was distracted enough that she handed him the cup without thinking about her own lack of coffee. "I work on a boat with thousands of people on it, and share a room with five other people. Where else am I supposed to find a minute to myself?"

"I organized," he said in concession and offered her first pick of seating on the floor.

She did one more full rotation before she sat with her back against the shelves. He sat next to her, and she realized they were sitting in the exact same spot where they had met.

"This feels familiar," she said.

"Me trying to avoid my brother and his friends? I do it all the time." He waved the idea away like it was so common, it had become a personality trait.

She chuckled. "This is where we met."

"Right."

Except, she had food instead of a crossword and Hudson had lost the suit. She took a moment to focus closer on what he was wearing and a grin spread across her face. She had been so surprised by the clean closet that she had missed his shirt. It was the fanciest Hawaiian shirt she had ever seen. It was a bright white with a clean blue floral pattern, with crisp lines.

"Nice shirt," she said as she set the bag of food between them.

"It's Ralph Lauren," he said. He gave her a challenging look, daring her to make another comment. This only made her smile grow but she kept her lips pressed tight together as she began to pull food out. "It was a requirement for the cruise," he finally said under his breath, as if ashamed to even acknowledge the shirt.

She took a closer look at it. "Was a floral pattern also a requirement?" She kept her face serious, but she couldn't keep the humor out of her voice.

"That is my assistant's fault," he said. "I told him to get me the least offensive one he could find. I'm going to fire him."

"Now, now," she said, leaning in to examine the shirt again. "I consider myself a professional in the field of Hawaiian shirts as I have studied their patterns closely for the last five years, and in my professional opinion," she leaned back to look at him, "this is a very unoffensive one."

"I consider anything other than white to be offensive," he stated.

"Cream?"

"Offensive."

She laughed and handed him a banana. "I like the shirt."

"In that case, I guess I don't have to fire my assistant."

"Bagel?" She offered him six different types of bagels.

"Where did you get all this food?"

"The mess hall. Were there other requirements for the cruise?"

He looked at her like she had just asked the dumbest question. "You've been around Grant and Kate for a couple of days now. What do you think?"

"What were they?" she asked, tearing off a piece of bagel.

He shook his head like he still couldn't believe they had tricked him into going on a group cruise in the first place. "There are dress code color themes for certain meals and excursions. This," he motioned to his shirt. "They even made t-shirts with some slogan on it for our last day. Which is really salt in the wound."

She laughed. "Please tell me they are hot-pink."

"The technical term is fuchsia."

"No!" she laughed even harder.

He shook his head and ate his bagel as she laughed at his misery.

**********************************************************************

تروح و تيجي بالسّلامة (Arabic)

*Slides an empty bowl onto the table* If you want to fill this with thoughts or ice cream, I will happily accept both. 💭🗯💬🚢🛟

Dates. Or a perfect date. That is the topic today.

If you've had a perfect date or even just a good date, you have to drop the story here. We all want to hear it.

I feel like it's safe for me to assume that there will not be many stories told.

Hey! Hey! It's not that I don't believe you could date someone, just I've read your comments enough to know that it's not common for us Single Pringles.

Therefore our dates must take place in our minds and be shared in this safe place. So dream away! The perfect date! It can be as simple or as elaborate as you want.

My dream date: It's actually is really simply. I'm going to assume he has been my friend for awhile because otherwise I don't see how I would willingly date him. Friendship first for me, always.

The date would be having breakfast with my family.

You might think this is weird but in my family breakfast is a big deal. It lasts hours and includes many pots of tea. If my date can keep up with the constantly changing conversations then I'd know he would be a good one to keep around. That's why it's perfect in my mind.

Okay, vote, comment, follow! Let's sail away on the dreams of wonderful story-like dates!