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~Stupid disclaimer thingy~ Ya adult content blah blah blah. If you read this and your not old enough. try not to get caught. if you aren't held back by any of those silly laws then your good too. Also... M/M Here, so... Not your bag? Then exit now. Otherwise Enjoy!

***

Once below deck, Wyler felt his heart race amongst the sloshing, oozing goo. Only a thin,

3 inch plank of wood concealed them against the hoots and hollers of what seemed to be

hundreds of bodies that sat around on crates, drinking beer and laughing the world by.

"Hey!" Shouted a voice as a sudden bump caused the gel to splash right up Wyler's neck,

almost causing him to yelp in disgust. Luckily though, a firm raccoon paw held on tightly to

his boy-bits, which caused him to think before he screamed.

"Watch it!" Another voice said as more bumps and bangs caused the gel to splash the two

of them conveniently to the very tips of their head fur. A bit had even snuck its way into the

mutt's muzzle, which took every shred of self-control not to angrily spit it out and wipe his

tongue on the cloth that draped above them.

"Here'll do," One of the carriers groaned after a couple semi-steady moments inside that

crate. Suddenly, gravity took hold as the crate fell for half a second, landing on the steel

floor of the deck with a gonging thud.

"Hhhhh..." Wyler hissed as the sloshing gel laid one final splash over his drying head fur.

He narrowed his eyes only to see Angela's "What the hell are you doing?!" face, showing that

it probably took every shred of self control not to angrily ring her companions neck,

ultimately giving away her and Wyler's gig.

"Alright ya mangy mutt's!" The familiar voice of the captain rang through the underbelly of

the ship, snuffing out the voices and chatter like a breathe to a flame. "That's enough booze

for all of ya!" There was a shattering sound that whisked in an intense silence.

"Better get that..." The tiger from the deck whispered to the cabin boy as he slipped his

finger around his mug rim.

The dalmatian perked his ears and looked around, seeing if anyone else was saying the

same thing, only in gaze form. An elbow in the ribs gave him the gusto he needed to stumble

into the middle, bringing everyone's attention to him and him alone, where he just cowered

and stared at the rocking metal floor, edging closer to the spill.

"You got somethin' to say, lad?" The captain said and he walked over and grabbed the dog

by the scruff of his neck. Forcing an eye contact that made him whimper, the dalmatian

shielded his eyes and threw his tail between his legs until he felt the skin on his neck loosen.

"Let him go, Agnus," The tiger had the captain by the paw. "He doesn't know nothin' yet..."

"Trusser..." The captain growled. "You may be me first mate... You may be the only one

who believes we even NEED a cabin boy..."

"We've always needed a cabin boy!" Trusser shouted. "I'm tired of having the whole crews

clean up after a couple months voyage, when only one mate has to just tidy the place as we

go!"

"That's enough!" The captain shouted as he released the tiger's grip, along with his on the

dalmatian's scruff. He then pointed hard and squinted. "If you're thinkin' about taking my

position, Trusser, I better brig you right now..."

"Agnus..." Trusser's tone was much softer now. "I have a soft spot for the boy. After-all, it

was his mother's dyeing wish that I take care of 'im..."

"Be that as it may," Captain Agnus's tone had changed now, more sincere as well. "I don't

want this boy getting in the way of your job, understand?"

"Yessir..." Trusser agreed as he helped the boy up, back into his seat.

"And you," The captain said. He then took off his hat and bowed slightly. "My apologies,

lad... Launching always gets me a wee bit stressed. Beg your pardon."

"Nnn.." Hudson whimpered as he shook on the bench. His fur was still pink from

embarrassment and he couldn't bare to keep his gaze up.

"Alright then," Captain Agnus said with a chuckle. "Men! You all know what to do! It's time

for us to launch! All hands on DECK!"

At that second, the room changed from nervous silence to something that rivaled an

elephant stampede. There were angry shouts, threats, and a couple hundred things being

broken by the sounds of it. All of it lasted about 20 seconds and after it was finished, the

dalmatian was left alone in a battlefield of broken glass. It's blood, the beer, leaking

everywhere

Wyler peeked his head out, much to the distaste of Angela, and almost got out to console

the depressing pooch.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Angela whispered. "Don't make me knock you

out for the rest of the trip..."

"Look at him..." Wyler sighed. "He's overwhelmed... I would be too if I was him..."

"You'd also have a free ride on this ship," Angela pulled him back down, sloshing the gel

once again. "Now unless you want to get us caught..."

"Hello?" A voice floated in from outside that made Angela's eyes widen, not to mention

shutting her face up nicely. "Is someone there?" The sounds of paws tapped ever so close

until the fabric above them crinkled.

Wyler felt a paw on his shirt, sending him face first into the gel. He didn't know what to do

until he saw a ray of dim light shoot through the crate that made his mind click. A couple

moments passed until the light faded, sending him quietly gasping for air as he brought his

head back to the surface. He made eye contact with Angela, but said nothing. Her stare shot

pure venom that basically foretold pain if he made a single peep until she gave the word to

do otherwise. She got used to this power of control too quickly...

~(I figure it's only right to let you in on a couple things. I'm 40 now, which is a big difference

from when I was 17, I know. I feel myself getting older, even as I write this in my refurbished cabin on Piccadilly Street.

Nope, no locksmiths shop here anymore. Although I'm quite sure some of it was used to build the place I'm at now, but that's totally getting ahead of myself.

I've chosen today to document things because today was the day they finally got around to inventing the hover car. That's right, my fellows today on April 11, 2040 the Jetson's dream has finally been realized. I can only say that there's complete and utter joy sailing through the streets right about now. A parade of annoyance over something, I'll admit, is cool, but I think I speak for everyone when I say... Took ya long enough... Geez...)~

Hours went by with the two of them barely breathing. The smell of the gel had finally

stopped making Wyler's eyes burn when Angela lifted the cloak and scoffed.

"We're alone..."

"Too bad..." Wyler chuckled as he took a look. "If only I liked girls..."

Angela rolled her eyes before she stepped out of the crate, awkwardly stringing all the gel

that matted her leg fur off with her fingers. Wyler tried to do the same, but ended up slipping

over with his butt hanging over the edge of the crate.

"Yes..." Angela sighed as she walked for the first time in what seemed like a week. "If only

Wyler... If only..."

"Shut up," The mutt said as he gave up on the goo and slopped it over the steel, skidding

as he walked. "You know you'd want me if you'd have the chance."

"The map," She said, not looking back at him.

"Oh..." Wyler replied, pulling his bag out like a ball. He opened the pocket the map was in

and gasped. "Wow... I guess this bag's ionic proof. Heh, kool..." He retrieved the paper and

almost handed it to the raccoon. "Hey wait!" He retracted his arm. "Nice try, toots, but you're

gonna have to try harder then that."

"Oh please," Angela took her bag off her back, which didn't have a speck of gel on it. She

pulled out a flashlight and tested it. "You're already a pain in my ass. There's no use for you

to hold the map anymore."

"Who's to say you aren't gonna abandon me once we get to..." Wyler raised his

brow. "Where's this barge headed again?"

"Augustaba..." Angela sighed, flashing him with her flashlight. This apparently was to

imprint the name onto his brain, via her 45 watt bulb. "Now can I see...?"

"Look with your eyes," Wyler said, then felt the paper fly out of his paws. He gasped and

growled as Angela chuckled in his face. "Give that back right now..."

"What do I keep telling you about trust?" Angela giggled. "You can trust me now. As I've

said, we're companions now. There's no turning back."

"Yeah well..." Wyler sighed as he looked around. "Trust is a two way street ya know..." He

walked, still trailing goo from his pant legs, which had gone from a crisp denim blue to an off-

white color.

The stacks of boxes that were carelessly thrown about under the deck were eye catching,

just because of their sheer numbers. There were big ones, small ones, even some the size

of your head, but they all seemed to fit together, holding each other in place as the ship

rocked back and forth.

"Hey Angela?"

"What!"

"How long do you think we've been sailing for?"

"I dunno? A couple hours? We're pretty far out by now, I think."

"Hmmm..." Wyler said as he eyed a couple boxes loose boxes. He started moving them

together as he looked for some rope.

"Kay..." Angela said, walking over. "We have about one and half months... What are you

doing?"

"Oh," Wyler scoffed. "You'll see my friend!"

***

"Why so glum, chum?"

Trusser and Hudson had been sitting in their cabin ever since the launch, the tiger at the

table while the dalmatian stared out the window.

"I dunno..." Hudson said as he rested his jaw on his palm. "I just thought it would have

started better then that..."

"Don't worry about what the crew thinks, Hudson," Trusser said, opening the fridge that

had been integrated into the steel wall of the cabin. "You were trying to do your job..."

"And look what it got me?!" Hudson turned for the first time in an hour and made eye

contact with the tiger. "It made the captain angry... What if I mess the whole thing up? What

if he leaves me on shore... What if..."

"Calm down, will you?" Trusser chuckled, tossing him some cooled meet in plastic

wrap. "He's not as tight in the pants as he was today... He gets edgy when it's time to launch."

"Still..." The dalmatian griped the package and squished it. "This boats kind of creepy...

Especially when you're below the deck..."

"How so?" Trusser asked behind a mouthful of meat.

"I dunno..." Hudson sighed. "When you guys left me down there I could swear I heard

voices coming from the crate."

"Are you suggesting there are stow-aways on this ship?" The tiger's voice suddenly got

coldly serious. His eyes beckoned for a quick answer.

"No... I'm saying I'm insane..."

"Good... Heh, there's never been a stow-away on this ship. Not ever. Securities too tight."

"How do you figure? You were all drinking downstairs when I got here."

"All the crew checked the boxes before they were loaded. We couldn't have been down

here but 3 minutes before you arrived. We would have seen them for sure..."

"Okay." Hudson sighed. "Maybe I am just crazy then..."

"You better believe it," Trusser smiled. "The ocean does that to ya. Now eat your meat. It's

the best ruffian meat on this side of the coast, ya know?"

"What the hell's ruffian meat...?"

***

"I gotta hand it to ya, Wy," Angela giggled as she sat in her new, custom made box

recliner. This luxurious piece of furniture came equipped with a hammered in cup-holder,

cushions fashioned from folded fabric, and an ataman that matched. "You sure know how to

travel in comfort!"

"You kidding?" The mutt said, lounging in his very own lazy-boy rival. "And by the way...

Could you not call me Wy? Kay thanks..."

"Why?" Angela asked.

"What did I JUST say, Angela!?" Wyler shouted. "Do you NOT like to listen to me ever?!"

"No!" The raccoon sighed. "I ASKED you "why". I didn't..."

"Oh..." Wyler said. "In that case..." He let a slight pause before he continued. "It's what my

friend... Well... Best friend called me all the time..."

"Was that the guy who came to meet you?

"Sadly, yeah."

"He was kind of cute..."

"Tell me about it..."

Angela grinned a little. "Am I sensing some sexual tension between you two?"

"Maybe..." Wyler couldn't help but blush slightly. "It's hard to explain..."

"Crushes aren't that difficult to comprehend, bud." Angela said. "It sounds to me like you

just wanted him in the sac."

"Yeah well...' Wyler didn't deny it. "He was pretty much the only guy who made me feel like

I was someone, ya know? Like I was an actual living thing and not some..."

"Hush!" Angela shooshed before he could continue.

"I was TRYING to have a heart to heart with you but I guess..."

*smack!*

"Yep... that's what I saw coming..."

"No you dunce..." Angela whispered now. "Can't you hear with those mutt ears of yours?"

"Where did you hear these voices, now?" Came the strict tone of Captain Agnus himself.

"In this crate..." Hudson's voice answered. Luckily, the two had been smart enough to

make a make-shift fort out of crates near the back.

"There's nothin' in here except ionic gel, Hudson," The captain replied, almost with a

laugh. "Nothin' would have wanted stow away in here unless they wanted their clothes

bleached and their noses broken."

"Shit..." Angel said, looking at her cloak. "I loved this thing... now it looks like im wearing a

bed sheet around..."

"Wait a second..." The voice of the captain cut through Angela's demanding silence in their

fort once again. "There's paw prints here... Nobody would be daft enough to..."

Angela turned to Wyler, who had turned to his legs, then back to her with an awkward

grin. "Heh... um... oops..."

"Wyler..." Angela growled, raising her paw for another smack. "If that's the reason they

find us... so help me I'm gonna..."

"Could it be someone from the crew?" Hudson asked as Captain Agnus started shift crates

near the front. The noise stopped and silence flowed once again.

"We'll call a meeting in a couple hours... Go on back to your cabin, kid. I'll see you there."

"Okay..." Hudson replied. "And captain... Could you not tell Trusser about this... I already

talked to him and he's sure he's convinced me... I don't want him to think I don't trust him or

anything..."

"Consider it done," Agnus said, and the two padded up the steps again.

Finally, after the two were convinced they were gone, they breathed normally again.

Angela paused before saying "If you're going to be sloppy like that, then go o the other side

of the ship were they can catch you..."

"Fine, fine," Wyler sighed. He then felt his stomach gurgle as he took a load off in his boxy

chair. "I'll be better next time, okay?"

Angela just nodded as she sat in her own, laid her head back, and closed her eyes.

***

Time went on like this for the next couple days. The premonition that below the deck had

become haunted had warded off normal crew members from passing by. The only real

visitor was the dalmatian who only spent time down there to clean the cob-webs and dust the

boxes. He was supposed to do them all, but thanks to either fear or laziness, he only cleaned

the first and second row before crawling back and hurrying up the stairs as quick as he

could.

Things seemed to be flowing as smooth as the ocean outside, until that sickening night

when growling woke the two of them up on their beds fashioned from their recliners.

"Oh my god..." Wyler whispered, cracking one eye open.

"Can you PLEASE shut up..." Angela shouted as she looked through tired eyes at the mutt.

"I can't help it..." Wyler whimpered. "I haven't eaten since... we left? Has it really been that

long?"

"That's only a couple of days...?" Angela sighed, taking out her second pack. "Here... eat

this."

The raccoon handed him her stash of gel infected fruit that she kept beside her bed/chair.

She claimed that's what kept her from being hungry, but he had never really seen her eat a

single thing from that bleach white bag.

"No thanks..." Wyler tried to stop himself from vomiting from the smell the bag gave off.

"Fine..." Angela snapped. "Starve then! See if I care! I'll just keep it all for myself."

"I don't think you've ever eaten a single thing from that bag..."

"Then how come I'm full?"

"Oh sorry... Forgot I could feel your insides somehow..."

Angela just gave off an aggravated sigh as she flopped back down on her fabric-covered

crate. Moments of painful hunger churned as his stomach scorned its host for all the abuse,

and all Wyler could do was stare at the wooden ceiling as it rocked.

"That's it..." He muttered as he began climbing the crates that led into and out of their fort-

ish thing.

"And what are you doing?" Angela asked.

"Going to go get food."

"Ha! You won't make it back!"

"Yeah, but I won't live for much longer if I don't..."

"Hey Wyler..."

He stopped, straining his ears.

"Bring me something too?"

"Ugh..." The mutt sighed as he climbed. Over and under the maze of crates he went. The

darkness washed over him as he relied on his sense of touch and memory to guide him

through till the end.

Finally, after a hundred years, or what seemed like, of countless bumps into wooden

corners, there came a drop, followed by the gong of mutt-skull against polished metal floor.

He then held his breath and listened for a couple seconds for anything that might amount to

a stir, or a cause for alarm. Nothing. Nothing except for the faint slash of ocean against the

hull.

Satisfied, Wyler crawled on all fours and padded up the wooden stairs. The neutral feeling

of the wood on the steps felt so different from the cold, unforgiving metal that they had been

on since the beginning. Even the fresh smell of air also brought his senses forth as the salt

fizzled in his nose.

This bliss of savored familiarity was short lived, though, seeing as various hands of the

crew were out and about on the night-shift. Each one with a sword at their waste, just "in

case" I guess, because none of them looked aggressive enough to use it. They were just

mates slapping high-fives as they went about checking the darker than average deck. A

pleasant and heart-warming scene if it weren't for the total danger of being caught...

"Crap..." Wyler thought as he sighed. "How the hell am I going to do this... I don't even

know where to food is..."

"Hey!" Shouted a fur that made Wyler almost jump out of his skin.

"Crap they found me!" Another thought fired in the mutt's head as he hugged the doorway

that was marked "Below Deck... Haunted ='("

~(I kid you not... That smiley face was there. It symbolized a fellow crying, if you didn't

know. The sideways cliché form originated in the computer age, when youngsters would

spend night after night chatting with one another using a keyboard instead of the good old

video phone... They called it MSN... Oh what a dark time that was...)~

"You looked starves, mate?" A doberman said, putting a paw on (who would have

guessed) Hudson the dalmatian.

"Starves?" Hudson replied as he continued his fancy foot-work with his friend Mr. Mop.

"Hungry, mate," The doberman chuckled. "Go get a bite to eat. I'll watch yer bucket."

"Where?" The confused dalmatian asked.

"Just over there!" The dark-as-night canine pointed. The galley was clear on the other side

of the ship with its steel door that was marked with a torch and another colorful sign. This

one read "Galley: Eat Fresh =D" (Yes another "emoticon")

"Even I could have found that..." Wyler scoffed inside his head as he watched the scene

unfold. The dalmatian, afraid to leave what he was doing, did a couple double takes before

handed over his mop to the doberman.

"I'll only be a second..." He said, then scampered off to the galley.

"Well that's just great..." Wyler thought. "Now I have..." and before he could finish his

thought, there came a paw on his shoulder.

"Hey," Said a masculine voice. "What are you doing out of you stripes?"

"Heeeee..." Wyler tried to take in a lung full for a gasp, but ended up expelling the rest of

his air into the nostrils of shaggy lion that came in from his left. His gaze beckoned an

answer. "I... uh..."

"Couldn't let go to the civi's could ya, lad?" The lion joked. "No worries, mate. Here, come

to the galley with me... I need a friend to talk too..."

"Umm..." Wyler stuttered. His heart was in his throat and he couldn't think straight. All he

could focus on was the racing in his chest. "Okay?"

And with that, the lion whisked the mutt off his feet and took him across the ship. No

strange stares, or someone asking "Hey, who's that guy?". No nothing. Food apparently

came easier on the sea. Especially when you stow away on a ship and get convinced by a

half-drunk lion to have a drink with him.

It must have been a good four hours later until Angela heard the scrape of claws climbing

crates, which gave her a good scare until Wyler showed his grin over the rim of the fort.

"What the hell took you so long?" She said as she pulled him down and rummaged through

his pockets. "And where's my freaking food?"

"Oh shit..." Wyler said, giggling. "I totally forgot, friend Angela. Who is my friend, nothing

more... Cause I like men. Remember? God you're so persistent sometimes..."

"Are you... Drunk?" Angela started to giggle as well. "And where did you get that shirt?"

Wyler looked down to notice his new stripped shirt that he didn't remember putting

on. "That... is a very good question. I think... you should answer it for me..."

"You're stupid..." Angela smacked him. "You didn't even bring me food..."

"But I'm so full though..."

"Wait... How the hell did you get in?"

"In where?"

"To get the food?! And the really gay shirt?!" Angela could barely control her temper.

"Oh... Riley gave it to me..." Wyler said. "I remember now... He was nice. Not as nice as

Hudson though..."

"Holy crap..." Angela grabbed his stripped shirt. "You let people SEE you?! How did you

make it back?! Do they know we're here?! WYLER?!"

"Stop shaking me..." The mutt whimpered. "I feel sick..."

"Who's Riley, Wyler?" Angela said after taking a deep breath,

"I said O'Riley!" Wyler corrected. "And he's the nicest lion I've ever met. You see... His

wife left him the other day... And I always thought lions were mean... But he was really

friendly."

"Was he drunk?" Angela asked. "Was he hitting on you?!"

"Maybe..." Wyler giggled a little. "But Hudson..."

"The dalmatian?"

"Yeah... He's cute..."

"Kay..." Angela rubbed her stomach. "But I'm really hungry... And I can't believe you got

to eat without the crew taking notice..."

"I think I like this dalmatian Angela..." Wyler carved circles into the air with his paws while

he lay on his back. "He seems really nice... and cute..."

"I think your drunk..." Angela replied. "You'd think a bucket of garbage is cute..." She

waited with her eyes closed for a reply of some sort, and I guess she got it, because the last

thing that was heard was Wyler snoring like nothing else. "Oh damnit..." Was the last think

she muttered until she closed her tired, hungry eyes and drifted off to sleep land. The

rocking of the boat easing her passage until she was joining the mutt in her own chorus of

sawing logs.

***

After a good snooze, you would think the two would wake feeling refreshed in the stale

and dank air of the "below deck", right? Or at least wake up to the gentle rocking of the boat

and the pitter-patter of the crew's paws as they worked about in the fresh sea air.

This was sadly not today's wake-up, or at least it wasn't for Wyler. One second his eyes

were glued shut and he was dreaming about... things... and the next, four or five paws were

clenched onto his shoulders, wrenching him out of his lazy-boy wanna-be and up and over

the ocean of crates. His legs flopping over the thousands of corners that scrapped him as he

went.

"Hey ya little parasite, the captain's gonna be happy to see ya!" Were the first words the

now conscious mutt heard before his brain told him to settle into official "freak out" mode.

"Is that the rest of 'em?!" Another voice called as the end of the corner torture came

about, and Wyler's now aching body could rest of the cool metal floor.

"Wait a tick!" Another called. "'E's got stripes!"

"O'Riley gave it to 'im last night I 'eard"

"Brig 'em both!"

"Yeah!" The whole room erupted as they dragged Wyler up on deck and threw him into a

circle of crew-mates. He finally was able to open his eyes, which were blinded by the sudden

shine of the sun, and the first thing that came into focus was the sorry face of his companion

Angela.

"I'm sorry Wyler..." She said as her voice melded into the hoots and hollers of the

crowd. "... I was just so hungry..."

"So You Told them about ME!?" The mutt finally got breath for words and was almost

instantly overcome with rage. "What happened with "If you get caught that's it... Don't come

back..." What the Hell Angela?!"

"I was scared!" She shouted back. "And you were the one who was with the drunkards last

night!"

"But I made it back without getting caught! I even got part of a disguise!" Wyler raised his

paw and punched the raccoon... hard in the shoulder. This sent a ripple of enjoyment

amongst the crowd that circled, ending immediately when Captain Agnus walked out of his

cabin.

This was the first time either of them had ever seen the captains face, and it took the

breath right out of them. It was a mug that demanded respect with two scares criss-crossing

along from the eyebrow to the jaw-line. He was also older then they had thought, with his

wrinkled and weathered skin that looked sincereless and unforgiving.

Trusser, the tiger, was walking right beside him, eyeing the two as hard as the captain

was. His face looked more curious then angry as the gears in his mind started to spin.

"What should we do with them...?"

The captain waited, looking at them as if trying to derive the key to life from their

existence. Moments passed until he filled his lungs with the heavenly sea-salt air.

"Throw the rats over..."

The entire crowd gasped and looked back at the two, who were as stunned as could be.

"But sir..." Angela pleaded.

"That'll be enough..." The captain replied quickly, taking out a laser-pistol from his thick

belt around his waist. "I don't care to listen to rats, thank you very much..."

Suddenly, two giant equines, wearing no shirts, pulled them both to their feet, then

dragged them to the side of the ship, where the ocean sloshed below.

"Hope ya can swim..." They heard the captain chuckle as pressure from the horses hooves

started driving them over, down into the hungry water that waited.

"Wait!" Came a voice from the crowd on the deck. The faint pitter-patter of paws was

heard until the figure of a dalmatian appeared on his knees in front of the captain.

"Please don't do this, sir..." He pleaded with his fingers laced in prayer. "Make them cabin

boys like me... I need the help... I can barely do it by my..."

The captain looked down and sneered. "You wanna join 'em?"

Hudson sunk even lower as he let out a small tear. "I know them... Well..." A few moments

of silence passed.

"Out with it, boy!" The captain demanded, stamping his boot near the pup's head.

"My dad used to go to Magic-Paws... the locksmith."

"He's not the son of Magic-Paws..." The captain chuckled. "He's a mutt. Magic-Paws ain't got

no mutt as a kid..."

"That's him alright..." Hudson said. "I've seen him a lot when we're gone to his place on

Piccadilly... Let him live, sir..."

The captain looked over to Trusser, who was eyeing Hudson as he lay on the ground.

Words in the form of whispers were swapped for quite some time until old Captain Agnus

turned to the crowd again.

"Brig 'em..."

***

(8)I wanna swim away, but don't know how. Sometimes it's feels just like I'm falling in the

ocean.

Let the waves up, take me down. Let the hurricane, set in motion, yeah,

Let the rain of what I feel right now, come down...

Let the rain come down.(8)

"Into the Ocean."

-Blue October.