Treasure Planet Fanfic: a Home in the Stars

Introduction

It was a slow day at the Benbow Inn and the last customers had just trickled out. Selina wiped her slightly greasy hands on her apron and slid her book out from the hidden cubby underneath the bar. She tossed her long blond hair over her shoulder and, propping her elbows on the table, she leaned over the open book and let her eyes roam across the words.
These quiet moments were a rare blessing for her. Mrs. Hawkins ran the best inn on Montressor, or at least that's what her son, Jim, was always bragging. At any rate, it was usually bursting with patrons.
A job at an inn wasn't Selina's first choice, even when working for a woman as kind as Mrs. Hawkins. But, she'd needed somewhere to stay, and this was as good a place as any. With her father who-knows-where and her mother decomposing in an early grave, she had nowhere else to go. The only remnants she had of her old life were the clothes on her back and the few books they'd owned. The rest had been given away to pay their debts...her father had been the sort of man who had a lot of debts.
Selina was just getting properly lost in the story when the inn door burst open. Quickly closing the book, she reflexively straightened and smiled, prepared to greet the customers. But it was only Jim. She rolled her eyes as he sauntered in, hoping he wouldn't stay long before going back on his "grand adventures".
"How's it going?" he asked, smirking in the way that only he could.
"Fine," she said stiffly, reopening her book in the hope he'd get the message and leave her alone. But, as always, he didn't.
He slid into a seat at the bar and grabbed a purple fruit from the bowl, tossing it in the air and catching it again several times before he actually bit into it.
"Ever gone solar-surfing?" he asked after a moment.
Selina shook her head, tugging her book a bit closer to her side of the bar. She didn't like seeing his hand resting on the bartop, too close to her own for comfort.
"Because I could take you, ya know, if you wanted to." He ducked his head, his hair falling around his face.
His boyish bashfulness was charming, but since he'd given that offer at least a dozen times now, the effect - which had been minimal from the start - was certainly wearing off at this point. Selina tried to ignore him, her gaze trained on the printed letters to keep herself from glancing up and meeting his eyes. She'd only made that mistake once. Those big blue puppy-dog eyes were enough to make her weak at the knees. That boy sure knew his best qualities, and how to use them to his advantage.
Jim was currently praising the improvements he'd made to his solar surfer, long since having finished off the fruit bowl. Going from hooligan to local hero and star of the Royal Interstellar Academy sure had swelled his ego.
It was a mercy when the bell above the door chimed the entrance of Amelia and Delbert Doppler, family friends of the Hawkins'. Their little children followed behind them, the three feline sisters spitting images of their mother, and that shy little male pup that obviously took after his father. They had grown quickly in the year she had spent working at the inn. They had already reached the maturity of human five-year-olds, instead of their true two years of age.
Jim broke off his ramble with a laugh and practically leaped out of his seat. He crushed Delbert in a hug, bowed graciously to the former Navy captain, and then knelt to greet the children, pulling the little boy onto his knee.
Mrs. Hawkins had come down from cleaning the upstairs rooms, and Selina, content that Mrs. Hawkins would see to her guests, left the bar and took a seat at a darkened table in the far corner. The parents all talked at the main table while Jim sat on the rug, entertaining the children. She hid her face behind her book, but she couldn't help peering over it to watch as Jim played with the kids, tickling, telling stories, and showing them little toy ships.
A vague memory of a father's laugh threatened to break through her wall, but she pushed it back. She regained focus just in time for Jim to glance in her direction and catch her staring. Her heart nervously skipped a beat as she felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment at being caught. She quickly looked back down at her book, cursing silently. Still ill at ease, she jumped when Jim suddenly spoke from the other side of the table.
"So, what's so interesting about that book that you have your nose stuck in it all the time?" She could practically hear that smirk of his as he spoke.
"Pirates," she said, and instantly regretted it. Why should he get to know what she was reading about?
"Those are always the best kind of stories," he said, propping his elbows on the table and leaning forward. Behind him, the children were still giggling as they played with the toy ship he'd given them. "I'm involved in some of those tall tales myself."
"Gee, I hadn't heard."
He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess it's not much of a secret, huh?"
She shook her head and closed her book as if to close off the memories, telling herself to keep her mouth shut before she could say something she'd regret. She wouldn't be so off-kilter if Jim wasn't so good with the kids, if he didn't truly have good qualities beneath those layers of arrogance and recklessness.
"My father used to read them to me," she blurted. And just like that, the well-built wall had a fatal flaw in its foundation, the memories bursting forth unhindered. "I just remember sitting on his lap, listening to his gruff voice as he made all the stories seem so much grander than they really were."
Jim was quiet, for once, his eyes trained on hers. "What happened to him?" He asked quietly.
"Why do you think something happened to him?" She shot back defensively.
"Because I know that look," he said. "The look from thinking about a father who isn't around anymore. Mine left when I was nine."
"Oh."
They were both silent for a moment. The robotic cook, B.E.N., had brought out some food for the adults at the far table. Delbert was telling Mrs. Hawkins about the latest scamper the kids had gotten into as the subjects of their conversation were snoring on the rug, curled up together.
Jim didn't push Selina to talk, but she barely noticed, too lost in an argument with her own mind. Finally, she ignored her better judgement and tore the whole wall down, just to tell her past to this pig-headed, self-centered boy, if only because someone would finally understand.
"My father first left when I was seven. He would occasionally come back over the course of the next three years, bringing tales of his adventures, but we never knew that the last time had passed until he just...stopped coming. I never knew what happened to him, although Mom thought that she knew. She was somehow certain that he'd been killed by the pirates he worked with."
She laughed humorlessly. "In the end, that belief's what killed her. That, and cholera."
She only noticed the single tear sliding down her cheek when Jim reached across the small table and gently wiped it away with the back of his finger. The touch made her stiffin, and she cursed herself for being so vulnerable. Let the boy confide in her about his absent father if he wanted to, but that didn't mean she'd had to spill her guts. She'd been so careful to keep herself from opening up to people, but one look in this boy's big blue eyes and she'd blown it.
"That stupid fat cyborg killed her and never even knew it," she growled, standing up abruptly and snatching her book as she stalked for the stairs. She forced herself not to care that Jim's face changed from calm to shocked in a matter of seconds.
"Wait!"
She ignored his shout, certain that the adults at the table would surely be watching. She spared a glance to her left, only to meet the sharp green eyes of Amelia Doppler. That feline stare felt as if it pierced right through her, and she hurriedly looked away and quickened her pace.
She made it up the stairs and to the hallway, just reaching the door to her room when the footsteps behind her became louder. She tried to open the door but was too late. Jim slammed his hand against the door, easily pushing it closed despite her best efforts.
"What do you want?" She snapped, whirling on him. "Coming back so I'll tell you my hopes and dreams now that I've stupidly spilled my whole life story? Do you think that I need a shoulder to cry on, because I don't, I-"
"What did you mean, cyborg?" He interrupted, his eyes full of a strange intensity.
Selina wavered, her stomach twisting, suddenly aware that his hand was still braced on the door behind her. They were uncomfortably close, nearly nose to nose as she defiantly raised her head to meet his eyes.
"Back off," she growled in a low voice. "Or I'll never tell you another word about it, if you're so curious. It'll be fun to watch you stew in your own nosiness." She smiled wickedly.
Jim's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't move. "Tell me about the cyborg."
"Go jump off a cliff," she said with a scowl, pushing his hand away. He let her, his hands falling loosely to his sides.
"Tell me about the cyborg," he repeated, his voice slightly less fervent. "Please."
She gritted her teeth, but decided that if that's what it took for him to leave her alone, it would be worth it in the long run. "My dad's right arm, leg, and eye were all machine," she said. "Every time he came home, it seemed as if he would have lost another piece of himself. Take that literally, and even figuratively if you so choose, just leave me alone!"
He grabbed her arm as she tried to leave. "Let go of me!" She hissed, trying to wrench it back. At the fight he must have seen in her eyes, he let go, but didn't leave.
"What was his name?" He asked quietly, his voice low and serious.
"John," she breathed, watching his face change as she spoke. "John S-"
" Silver..." Jim finished with her, his eyes growing bright. Selina watched him, her mind racing, one thought rising above all the others.
"You know him," she said, her indignancy overwhelmed by the force of the emotions clamoring to take the lead. "My father's alive, and you know him! When did you see him? Is he ok?" She felt herself bursting with the questions that had been growing in the back of her mind for seven years, ever since her father had stopped coming home.