For those of you who've been waiting (and also, I suppose, for those who
couldn't care less)...

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Hanna-Barbera and are used for non-profit entertainment purposes only.

Archiving permission granted.

THE REAL ADVENTURES OF JONNY QUEST

Synopsis:  During another lesson on Japanese culture, the captain and
Jessie get full-on mushy. (Woo-hoo!)

"FORTUNE'S WIND", chapter 8

by Eric R. Umali

"Chado"

The captain's quarters took up a good part of one deck of the aft cabin
area, with the rest being the large room which served as the navigation
and wardroom which opened directly to the main deck.  Jonny's quarters
had recently been divided to free up room for their new guests-- Hadji
now occupied one third of the space, behind a hastily built wall.

One wall of Jonny's cabin was occupied by a row of great windows
offering a spectacular view of the starry night sky and the placid
midnight blue water.  A modest pallet was recessed into another wall,
opposite a small desk that obviously saw much use, with papers piled
high.

Tonight, though, the cabin had been transformed.  A small, low wooden
table sat in the middle of the floor, with silk-covered cushions to
either side.  Atop the table's gleaming surface were what Jessie guessed
were the utensils and other wares for a modest meal.  Two small ceramic
bowls, a larger one, a bamboo ladle and a small steaming pot seemed to
have been very carefully placed.  Beside these was a small covered
plate.  What amazed Jessie was what sat to one corner.  A bamboo
cylinder held a small arrangement of exotic-looking flowers, something
she had never expected aboard a ship, particularly a pirate ship.

Jonny knelt on one of the cushions, eyes on the table as he checked and
rechecked the arrangement.  He, too, wore a silk robe.  His was in black
with the glimmer of a few golden threads woven in here and there along
with an intricate design of what Jessie decided was a dragon.  The
garment was not quite as long as Jessie's-- he wore a matching pair of
light-colored silk trousers and sandals.

"I hope the robe fits all right," he began, and lifted his head.  "I'm
afraid it's the only one--"  He stopped short, unable to speak.  Jonny
couldn't decide which was the more distracting-- the graceful way Jessie
moved in the emerald green robe or the way the color was set off by the
brushed fire of her hair.

"What is it?" she asked, suddenly quite self-conscious.  Jonny rose and
took her hand.

"You look exquisite," he replied, kissing her hand.  Jessie's cheeks
flushed as he led her towards the table.  He gestured towards the
cushion, and she looked at him quizzically.   "You kneel on the
cushion," he explained.

Jessie did, and squirmed a bit before settling.  Jonny knelt opposite
her, the table now at a perfect height.

"You got all this in Japan?"

Jonny nodded.  "The Japanese Tea Ceremony.  It's.. a celebration of life
and simplicity.  The tea extends welcome.  It provides warmth, comfort.
It pleases the guest to receive, and the host to give.  It has many
meanings."

"And what does it mean to you?"

"I'll answer that with a question.  We've been at sea for two weeks.
You've pulled your weight as a crewmember, there's no question.  But you
seem... withdrawn.  Even from your father.  Why?"

"I'm... a stranger in a strange land, Jonny.  I may be the daughter of a
sailor, but I'm hardly one myself.  I had never been on anything larger
than a rowboat before going aboard the *Questor*.  I don't know what to
do with myself."

"I'd like to change that.  Consider this to be an offer to think of the
*Bandit Queen* as your home, for a time.  And to think of me as a
friend."  Jonny smiled.  Jessie returned it sincerely, and it brought a
sparkle to her eyes that Jonny found himself wanting to see more often.

Jonny began the slow, deliberate motions of the ceremony as Jessie
watched in rapt fascination.  He took the pot and filled the large bowl
halfway with steaming water.  From a small container, he portioned out a
small amount of dark green powder into the bowl and stirred, tapping the
small wooden tool on its edge.

He carefully poured the green tea into Jessie's smaller bowl, and sat
back.  She looked at him, with a nearly panic-stricken expression.
Jonny mimed the movements for her.  Using two hands, she raised the
bowl, feeling the warmth soak into her palms, and breathed in the
fragrant scent.  She brought it carefully to her lips and tasted it
deeply.  Jessie had been expecting the familiar taste of English tea but
was pleasantly surprised.  She lowered the bowl, and Jonny repeated her
actions, then sat back again.

"Is there more?" Jessie asked hopefully.

"Oh, yes," he replied, remembering.  Jonny removed the cover from the
small plate to reveal a pile of sweets, again bringing that welcome
glimmer to his companion's eyes.

They spent the next several hours talking and laughing.  Jonny was
surprised to discover that the beautiful English rose before him had as
many of her own adventures to share as he did.  Jessie Bannon apparently
was the least typical young lady he'd ever met.  Her curiosity rivaled
only his, as did her hunger for a better, more exciting, more important
life than what was expected of her.

"May I ask you a personal question, Jessie?  You don't have to answer if
you don't want to."

"All right."

"You don't like enclosed spaces, do you?"

"No, I don't."

"Would you tell me about it?"

"I don't like to speak of it.  But perhaps in return for your
hospitality, I can make an exception."  She fidgeted a bit, and took a
sip of tea before continuing.  "I was eight.  Father and I were staying
with a wealthy friend.  I've always loved horses, and begged Father to
let me visit the stables.  He put it off a few times, so, naturally--"

"Naturally," Jonny finished for her, "you snuck into the stables
yourself."

"Exactly," Jessie replied.  "The skies were dark... almost threatening.
I suppose I should have known better.  The storm struck quickly..."  Her
voice trailed off.

Jonny placed a gentle hand on hers.  "If you don't want to go on..."

"No, no," she said, patting his hand.  "The storm was the worst in
decades.  I was terrified, and hid in a corner.  That's when the whole
damned thing collapsed."  A sharp intake of breath told Jonny she was
battling the tears with all her might.

"How long did it take for them to find you?"

Jessie sniffed.  "Almost half a day."

Jonny lowered his head.  "What do you see out those windows, Jessie?"

"I don't understand.  The sky, the moon... the sea."

"Aye, that's right.  Look to the sea-- boundless, wide and deep.  The
sky that stretches forever.  More open space than there could be time to
explore it all.  With the sea as home, there can be no enclosures."

"Is that why _you_ sail, Jonny?"

The young pirate nodded. 

"If-- no, _when_ we find the treasure, what will you do?"

"I don't know.  But somehow, the notion of settling down in a
countryside cottage and hoarding my gold until doomsday holds no
attraction.  Nor does the idea of finding myself a... well-mannered
society lady to host my parties and have my children."  He poured them
more tea.  "And you?"

"I find no attraction in _being_ a well-mannered society lady who does
nothing but host parties and have children.  I can see why you love the
sea so-- perhaps I will take to the bounding main myself.  Give Anne
Bonney a run for her money."

Jonny laughed, and they touched their cups.  "You would make a most...
formidable pirate queen, Jessie Bannon."

"But," she began, "are you to go the rest of your life alone?"

"I'm hardly alone.  I have my ship, my crew, Hadji... and the sea."

Jessie cautiously avoided his sapphire eyes.  "I suppose there's not
much more a sailor could want," she said softly.  She reached her hand
out and brushed her fingertips across a soft petal of the flowers before
her.  She started.

"They're silk," said Jessie.

"Mm-hmm."  Jonny reached out to the flowers as well.  Instead, his
fingers brushed lightly across the soft skin of Jessie's hand.  Before
she could pull away, he held the hand between his own.  At last, she
tilted her head up, only to be lost in the eyes that seemed to gaze
right to her core.  She pursed her lips.

Jonny couldn't take his eyes from her as he drank in every curve, every
feature of her face.  Slowly, his left hand moved up her arm, then
gently passed her cheek.  She leaned into his touch as he reached back
and plucked the small sticks pinning up her hair.  He ran his fingers
through her fiery tresses as they fell to her shoulders.

His hand rested behind her long neck, and gently pulled her towards him.
They crept closer until, at last, their lips met.

The kiss was soft and shy, but true.  They drifted just apart.

"I'll consider myself welcomed aboard," Jessie said, a playful smile
coming to her face, sparking one on Jonny's as well.

"You certainly are.  I think it's time to say good-night."

They rose.  As they reached the door, Jessie embraced him tightly.
"Thank you, Jonny," she said.

"Thank you," he whispered.  He gave her a last squeeze and she
disappeared into the passageway.

Jonny stared out of the windows, gazing upon the water.  He touched his
fingers to his lips, the sensation, the taste of hers still fresh.
Jonny bent down to the table and began putting things away.

**********

Benton Quest looked out at the water as well.  He stood atop the
quarterdeck, leaning against the railing.  Listening to the gentle lap
of the waves against the hull, his thoughts drifted across the Atlantic
to the shores of England, and a long-lost time.

The first few months of their marriage were marred only barely by the
sharp whispers of society.  Rachel and Benton were deliriously happy
together, and only became moreso when she was found to be with child.
It was a difficult pregnancy, and on a cold November night, Rachel
Wildey died in childbirth.  Just before she went, a wild-eyed man burst
into their small cottage, screaming at the top of his lungs.  Doug
Wildey had come to find his daughter.  Instead, he found the tiny form
of his newborn grandson.  The boy was not breathing.

Enraged, Wildey had snatched the infant's body and run into the night.
Benton chased him, only to be set upon by Wildey's pirate crewmen.  The
dark blue English sky spun, then went black.

Wildey's final words echoed in the dark, cool air, in Benton's voice.

"Look after the boy, he's... special..."

TO BE CONTINUED...

Okay, so I've watched "Karate Kid II" a few too many times.  Seriously,
the Tea Ceremony is a beautiful spiritual experience, allowing one to
focus on the perfection in the simplest of acts.  "Chado" is the Way of
Tea, another wonderful bit of culture I was able to glean from my
research.  As for the possible link between Benton and Jonny-- who
knows?  I hate being predictable.