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Madison felt like she was in some kind of harlequin romance novel as she stared up dreamily at the guy who (she thought) had saved her life.

His lips moved as he spoke to her and she made out the movements. He said that the other guy had been the one that plucked her from her deathl! She got up out of his grip and felt herself a fool. While she was gracious to him, she just felt as though she had been mislead by her own emotions.

From her position on the beach, she could make out the other guy trying to get control of his boat. The sea was getting more wild by the minute and she was so afraid for him. He looked like a sturdy enough person to be able to withstand the angry waters so she tried to stop worrying.

She saw that the young man was now asking if she needed anything so she shook her head. Being deaf was such an obstacle and sometimes people thought she was simply ignoring them or being rude. She tried her best to cope and always watched to see if anyone with her conversed.

Finally, the "Manatee" was free. Scrambling onto the deck, the Dude rushed to the old motor, praying to all the gods that there was still a drop or two of gasoline left in it. He pulled the cord once, twice, gave it a swift kick, then pulled it again.

Nothing.

As he was fighting with the engine the boat, swaying from side to side, was speeding towards the cliffs to the south of the beach, carried by the wind and the waves. Realizing that, the Dude's look became desperate.

"I can't ******** belive it. C'mon! C'mon Manatee! C'mon, old girl." - he pleaded to it, kicking the silent motor.

Nothing.

Swearing worse then any sailor, the Dude, giving the motor one last, hopeless kick, grabbed a backpack and strted shoving things into it: snorkel, fishing kit, his secret stash in a coffee can (carefully sealed with candle wax), last twelve pack of beer, half a gallon of Jack Daniels, cigarettes, lighter, knife, random clothes that got in the way. Out of the lagoon and no longer protected by the mountain's wind shadow the "Manatee" was now almost flying towards the cliffs, encouraged by the whipping wind of the incoming storm.

He had to get out now or it would be too late. He put on the diving mask and filppers. Then, as the last thing, the Dude grabbed a towel and threw it over the meowing Captian Morgan, stuffing the cat into the back pack, zipping it up and strapping it onto his back.

"Good Luck, Manatee" - he finally said, close to tears and jumped into the stormy waters. Inside the backpack, Captain Morgan howled like a banshee. Propelled by the flippers, the Dude fought the current and was getting closer and closer to shore. Around him the storm was starting to pick up strength and the wind was gettign lowder and lowder. But even the crashing of the waves and the howling of the wind and the furious tomcat in his back pack could not drown out the heartbreaking crash he heard behind him.

The "Libery Manatee" was a good boat. A veritable old lady who had braved many a hurricane. In her 60 years of existance she had been a pleasure boat for the rich, a smuggler's vessel, a fishing boat, a tour guide of the Keys and most importantly, a home to many. And her end was as glorious as her existance.

May she rest in peace.

Ambrose stood, staring at the Dude's epic struggle, impressed with his confidence against the waves and rocks. Ambrose was honestly impressed - not expecting such a feat from a man like him.

He looked drawn between the redhead and the Dude. Did he need assistance? He didn't seem to, but Ambrose felt awkward just sitting and watching the scene unfold.

He turned as the woman tried to walk towards him - agreeing to help him at least on the last leg of his journey. Setting her back down in the sand carefully he spoke to her. "You wait here. Your leg might be injured. I'll go see to make sure he gets back here safely". And with that, he jogged over to where The Dude was emerging from the surf to see if he could offer a hand with anything.

This two weeks of study was already shaping up to be quite the interesting time - from boredom, to vacation, to adventure!

Madison's heart skipped a beat as the guy who saved her life was finally on shore. She smiled up at him as he walked over. The backpack he was wearing got her full attention as the contents within looked like it was fighting to get out.

'What could be in there? Maybe a fish swam inside while he was in the ocean...' she thought to herself and she saw him open the bag finally.

A furry animal raced out as soon as it was unzipped. This totally freaked Madison out! Who keeps animals in backpacks anyways..the poor animal was probably starved for breath. Then she realized that he had saved the cat just like he saved her and a sense of warmth pulled over her sand covered body. The man pulled out a bottle of whiskey and drank it while getting a seat next to them.

She blushed beat red as the guy offered her his bottle. It looked nearly empty!

"He sure drink a giant gulp..he probably needed it after his journey from the sea... such a shame about his boat.." she thought and shook her head to the bottle. It wasn't a good time to get drunk..she had barely escaped death and sure didn't need to drink herself into a stupor.

"So...what are your names?" she stammered and tried to stop from being nervous. "My name is Madison..Dr. Madison Moreau".

"Just call me Dude." - the Dude grunted, taking the bottle back. He was still very much in shock from "Liberty Manatee"'s crashing demise. The cute redhead in the skimpy black swim suit was looking at him like he was some kind of movie star, while Ambrose was grinning wide. Not able to handle all this attention, the Dude took up the bottle again and took another long swig. The world was starting to sway blissfully as the whiskey warmed his blood.

"Peace to you, Manatee" - he murmured quietly to himself.

From the top of the palm, Captain Morgan meowed pitifully. He was stuck.

Realizing that the humans were finally paying attention to his plight, the shipless Captain meowed again and pretended to be cute and cuddly. Just PLEASE take him down. The trees were not his domain. They grew on land, and the Captain hadn't visited land in a while.

Ambrose looked at the Dude's depressed drunkeness as he looked back at the little boat being dashed helplessly aganst the rocks and cleared his throat, smoothed back his hair, wiping the grin off his face. This little "adventure" was apparently not entirely without casualty.

Ambrose looked back to Madison as she was trying to get the pitifully mewling feline down from the tree. Another one of the scientists, then. This was the second time a beach trip had ran astray of a Feral Labs employee. Ironically during their discussion of the possible underhanded motives of the complex. But dear lord, what was he saying? She was drowning for christsakes.

Heaving a breath he stood up and gave her a smile. "Well, Sorry that your trip to the beach ended up so unpleasant." he commented, walking over to her and checking on her progress on getting the cat out of the tree. His stomach chimed in a rumble in response to hers. Apparently all of the excercize worked up ... another... appetite.

((Sorry for the delay - laptop battery ran out >> ))

From the top of the palm, the Captain's meows started to sound obnoixous. He was friggin STUCK, folks. Showing him food was NOT gonna make it better.

The Dude was watching Madison exclaim something about food and go rummaging thru his last remaining belongings. He was about to protest but decided to let the her be. Maybe she knew what she was doing. But when she dragged out his precious coffee can into the rain, he objected:

"Yo, lady. That's private property!"

Ploping the bottle angily into the sand he scrambling up after her to fight her for the can. The lid was really well sealed and would be exceptionally hard to open with just bare hands.