- Prologue -

Winds of Her Whim

"All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair."
― Mitch Albom, The Five People You Meet In Heaven

- Nadine Ross -

The auction did not go well. I'd voiced my concerns to Rafe on more than one occasion, yet we ended up doing things his way. On the return to Scotland, there was a discussion on how we should continue now that Drake was back in play; the only point on which we agreed was finding Avery's treasure was the most important thing. It wasn't that we disagreed on that particular topic, just that neither of us could decide how to make the best of the situation at the present time.

Operations resumed their normal status, however my partner had become more irritable and prone to scolding my men than before. I had attempted to take his mind off matters if only briefly, and how did he reward me? By telling me off for how Shoreline was handling the situation. Initially I was willing to admit that perhaps my team could use more finesse, but Rafe had to just keeping pushing it and pushing it.

Inevitably the conversation turned full circle back to the auction and the reemergence of Drake. In fact it wasn't much different than the flight from Italy, only there wasn't nearly as much yelling and rage involved. Rafe was definitely considering more possibilities than he was letting on, I was almost certain of it. So long as he kept me informed of what I needed to know, he could theorize and plot as much as he wanted.

Avery's treasure was what bound us all, but I found that the millions were becoming less and less worth the hassle...

Drake taking me hostage in the jungle and Rafe's response to the stand-off was the straw that broke the camel's back. "Hurt" isn't a word typically found in my vocabulary, but even to this day I still can't make up my mind on what rankled worse: Rafe almost letting me die, or my supposed partner being impressed with the lengths Drake was willing to go. Recounting how Drake had once been on our side did nothing to help. Taking him along with us for the remainder of our stay in Libertalia was like a constant knife stuck inside, the blade digging deeper and deeper into the soft tissue. Although I had to admit that he did have his uses.

By the time we'd reached Avery's ship and nearly all of my men were dead, I was done with Rafe and his bullshit. Attempting to cut and run before I became another victim of the crazed pirate captain or the men that sought his vast wealth, I realized too late that Rafe was too shorthanded to just let me go if he could help it.

It also dawned on me that in some twisted way, I even came to respect Drake for all the woe he had suffered for this quest - if anyone had any right to the gold, it was Drake and his brother. Rafe had done nothing for his own. Unless you counted him turning on me, betraying me, threatening me, and laying his God-damned hands on me. Taking a punch was practically a daily regiment for me, but I swore to myself at an early age that I wasn't going to idle by and take more than I had to.

Retaliation was the first thought to cross my mind, but between being outnumbered and facing an opponent with no moral center nor sane code of honor, I knew that it would have been my death. Call it shock, knowing that the end of an era was nigh, or having more at stake than just a terminated partnership, but the falling out with Rafe wasn't all that simple. Too much depended on my next move.

My moment came on the ship, surrounded by smoke and flames. Rafe had the gall to tell the Drake brothers that he didn't screw over his partners. I suppose that from his perspective that was the truth, but from where I was standing he had completely lost what little shred of sanity he had left. Holding a gun to the back of his head with every intention of pulling the trigger, I tried one last time to make him see that there was more than Avery's treasure. He was too far gone to see that the greed would kill him, so I just left. I was beyond caring how any of this ended, just so long as I survived.

Damn glad I had too, or else I never would have been able to hold you in my arms in your biggest time of need.

- Bai Wen -

The one from Panama was looking at me again. Squirming uncomfortably in my seat from the intensity of the gaze, I did everything I could to ignore him. Scanning my station, the only things readily available to hold my attention was a report from the team in LA or my computer. The monitor was on, however I had been too drained from the previous night to to pay my work all the attention it needed; instead I had only gone as far as logging in after lunch. Notarized documents it was!

The Venezuelan imports are due to see a thirty percent increase within the next six months at the current market trend. Eyes beginning to blur as I reread the same line of the report, I bought time by readjusting the sable frames that would have been lost to my bangs but for the sheen of the plastic. Assuming that the market does not see a considerable change within the projected time frame, the company could see as much as a thirty-five percent bump. Rafe wouldn't feel the difference either way, but his coffers would sure feel the fruits of my labor. And I'd get the credit for bringing the Venezuelan investors into the fold.

Joyful triumph short-lived, the smoldering stare of the convict was enough to burn a hole through the back of my neck. Three weeks ago, I would have strongly reprimanded myself for identifying the man so harshly, reminding myself that it was the most probable reaction to being locked away for so long. It couldn't have been easy for him that Rafe didn't have too many women working in capacity to his personal project of finding captain Avery's treasure after all. The me of nearly a month ago needed to be firmly slapped for being such an imbecile, for forgetting that I had known the type of man he was before the Panama job had gone belly-up.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" I didn't much care for the way his eyes lingered. Rafe wouldn't like it either, if he knew.

But Rafe was never going to find out about this indiscretion, not if I had anything to do about it. The prisoner from Panama was a fun fling, but once Rafe had his eye on something, it was as good as his. Even after it got dusty and was locked away in the attic with the rest of the valuables, it still belonged to him. And to think I'd once been envious of the painted dolls on display.

In hindsight, I never should have taken the promotion or left my office back in the States. Better still, I should have listened to baba and just stayed in Hunan. Maybe even marry that educator like my parents desired of me. Oh the life that 'should' could have built for me!

"Bai," Rafe's voice over the radio startled me from my reverie, "where the permit expansions delivered to the Chicago office or the one in Boulder?"

Having confirmed just today that the permits had already been signed and were due to be returned later this week, I didn't need to check my computer screen. Which was good, because I wasn't exactly focused on the company mainframe. Oops. "Neither. They were sent to the New York building."

Despite being an asset to Rafe's operation, it seemed to me that the one from Panama almost never had any actual work to do. My belief was only furthered when the convict chose the most dangerous moment possible to harass me. Alone in the cavernous back room that might have once been an additional library or storeroom, it occurred to me as he approached my desk that there were no other witnesses nor any other obstacles or excuses in the way. Oh! Where were those Shoreline goons when you had need of them?!

So far as he was concerned, I may as well have been the last book in stock.

Quietly as I could to avoid alerting the boss, I shook my head furiously at the other. The one from Panama only smirked at the images on my screen and took it upon himself to begin massaging my shoulders. The strong hands rolling lower down my back beckoned with a melting tingle - as consenting adults we both knew where the gesture would lead.

After a brief pause and the scratching of a pen on paper, Rafe's voice was back on the line. "Fine work. You truly are an inspiration to the company, Bai."

Once more I found myself torn between my duty and my desires, and once more I could tell that my vices were going to further besmirch the remainder of my character. Cleaver as I was in a boardroom, I was no match for the devil inside that longed to be adored. "Thank you." Sincere as the gratitude was, there was considerable guilt eating me from the inside. "Perhaps we could discuss this further after dinner?" Angling subtly away from the one from Panama, I attempted to end the night with the right dance partner.

Silence would have been better than the answer I received. "Not tonight. Samuel found some discolored bricks in the kitchen that may be an attempt to hide some kind of secret entrance. I'm going to be dating the stones and cross-referencing the samples before we do anything drastic."

Perfect. The lead was too big a possible break for me to press the issue, and the task would be so time consuming that the one from Panama needn't be there for the whole entire duration. Rafe would have preferred if his partner was present, but the jailbird had the legitimate excuse of claiming to be doing additional research. Rafe may as well have given the one from Panama the key to his room and state that that the sheets to the bed we shared had just been changed.

Well, I still had one trick up my sleeve to discourage the convict from pursuing another night together, but it would be risky. " If that's all for today, I think I'm going to retire. I haven't been sleeping well lately." Was I trying to illicit sympathy where I knew none existed, or was I trying to get myself caught and murdered? Even I had no idea, but I knew that I was nothing short of an idiot with issues.

Clearly Rafe was too busy to spend time on me, but nothing was preventing him from being shrewd enough to remember that there were other ways to take the phrase 'haven't been sleeping well lately'. The one from Panama was also free to interpret that was he would.

"We'll speak later, Bai." There was something about the way he said that that got me worried.

Conversation over and danger passed (for now), the former inmate held me tightly, as if he never meant to let me go. The attention may have been nice at first, but truthfully I was just getting sick and tired of these men acting as if they desired more than ownership over me. At least with Rafe the dominance was overt - with the one from Pamana it's just a game to pass the time.

"Spare me the act, will you? It was fun at first, the flirting, the sneaking around, but I'm done." Brushing him off as I shut down my work station for the night, I stood up to leave.

The one from Panama had known Rafe just as long as I - there was no mistaking the peril history told us was waiting if we were discovered - but we'd done this same song and dance one too many times. Every time I would curse my station while watching my honor deteriorate, and every time he fed off my vices and found his way into my skirt.

There was no more of a label for our shared lust than what I had with Rafe, but Rafe was a dangerous man to cross. The one from Panama was invaluable to the team, however I was replaceable. As an expert on all things Avery, finding the treasure would become that much more difficult without the former prisoner, and Rafe had already been at this for over a decade. Diligent as I was to my work, in the business world there was always a better model in the wings that could run the company on Rafe's behalf.

It hadn't been said out loud yet, but I knew that there was already a new woman that had caught Rafe's attention - strange that a man so obsessed by a single goal could still find the time.

Call it a bullshit double standard or because he was rich enough to write his own laws, but it would have been fine for him to drop me without a second thought. Maybe it would have been better for everyone involved if he would just send me back to the city; so long as I still had my job, Rafe could do whatever he pleased.

I had spent the last seventeen years of my life toiling at the bottom of the ladder before impressing my bosses enough to earn a single chance to dazzle their boss. Many said that I had done immoral things to reach the point I had when I began to report directly to Rafe himself, and they wouldn't have been wrong to reach that conclusion. But until I had met the son that would go on to inherit the family business from his father, I had kept my personal and professional lives completely separate. Google my name, and you'd see that I had taken three of my former bosses to the cleaners for sexual harassment and won each suit.

How I missed the days when a little snow was my biggest downfall.

"You sure I can't convince you to change your mind?" The one from Panama had the kind of easy smile that could melt the icy heart of any woman (or anyone remotely interested). "For old time's sakes?" That man had a charisma that was lethal and ought to have been made illegal. Thinking of it like that... I placed my worries into my glasses so I could set them on the table and forget about them for a time.

"I have ten minutes."

Victorious, the one from Panama chuckled as his fingers brushed the hem of my dress. "You're gonna need a whole helluva lot more than that."

- Elena Fisher -

Something was off.

From the corner of my eye I could see Nate diligently finishing today's paperwork, but that wasn't too out of the ordinary to raise any red flags. As I continued to puzzle it over while attending my own in box, my stomach suddenly cramped and rolled over on itself. Problem solved: lunch must not have agreed with me. Glancing over at my husband again to see if maybe he too was suffering the same way I was, he caught me looking and grinned.

"Hello there." Waiting just long enough for me to chuckle, he stretched and pushed away from the most tedious aspect of our lives. "Checking out the cute new guy at the office?"

As much as I just loved to do inventory, I also rolled away from my work to have a small sidebar. "And get in trouble for sexual harassment? I think that's a hard pass. Besides, my husband might not appreciate it very much."

Nate never was as good at keeping a straight face as I was, but bless him for trying. "I don't know if my pride should be wounded or if I should be proud to have such a faithful wife. I think I'll go with the latter."

"Good choice, cowboy."

It was all I could do to keep from crying out as my abdomen burned white-hot and coiled around on itself. Had things gone my way, I would have just casually asked if lunch was coming back up on him wrong too, possibly cracking a joke about this being the last time I'd let Nate pick where we eat. He'd pout and rebuttal about his irresistible charm getting the better of me in the end. And'd he'd be right.

"Elena?" Maybe my joke in Libertalia was more cruel than I realized at the time...

Instead the pain lashed across my face and before I knew it, he was by my side. He knew better than anyone that I was no fragile creature, but because I was so strong it wasn't often that I got ill. As a matter of fact, I could probably take a nice vacation with all the sick hours I've accumulated. Not that I would when we were still establishing the company.

Still, I did what I could to shrug this attack off. "I'm fine. The chicken just must not have agreed with me is all." I didn't need to be a journalist to know the horror stories that came from eating tainted poultry. "It'll flush itself out of my system soon enough."

Aware of just how critically I was being observed, I attempted to resume the invoice only to be thwarted by another wave of angry recoil. He looked at me skeptically before returning to his computer to save his work. Nate trusted me to know my own limits, but he also knew me well enough to call my bluff when I was being pigheaded. It was a two way street.

"Get ready, I'm taking you home to rest." His tone brokered no room for argument, and frankly I was in no fit state to give one. Guess I was worse off than I'd originally thought.

Computers off and office shut down early, I noticed that the sharp needle-like sensation mercilessly driving deeper in my intestinal track had abated somewhat on the drive back home. Nate wanted to take me to the doctor, but I reminded him that food poisoning was more just something that you had to sweat out than a malady that could be treated with an antibiotic. Although considering the lack of an explosive exit, we were both wondering if this was really just a simple case of bad food.

"Hey, do you have any more of those little meat-stick things?" Eating a spicy knock-off of beef jerky was probably the first sign of delirium creeping into my brain, but I was hungry and they sounded like just the thing that would hit the spot.

Vaguely aware of my frantic search for his stash of Slim Jims as he drove, he chuckled in disbelief. "Really? You might be dying but you want to snap into my Jims? Now there's a new idea for a commercial!"

Personally I found nothing funny about wanting to eat a certain food item. Spiced meat may have been what got me into this mess in the first place, but it was what I wanted! And then it hit me: abdominal pains, food cravings, irrational irritation. Doing the mental math and crunching the numbers this way and that, certain biological factors did fit in the time frame. Was I...? Could we be...?

They'd been married for a while now, but somehow that was a topic that hadn't come up very frequently. At the time it didn't seem to matter that we were avoiding the conversation, because we were both in the same place - manage the marriage and just keep working. Our careers were important to us, even when Nate had initially sworn off adventuring to go work for Jameson. Obviously that hadn't exactly gone as planned, but we made the most of it. Together.

Dammit.

Nathan needed to know what the possibilities were, so that we could work through this too. But knowing the little bits about his past that I did, I was terrified of how this could have affected him. I was terrified of how it would affect me.

Noticing a little convenience store just up the side of the road, I ripped into the yellow and red package I'd found behind the cup holder with savage strength. "Do you mind if we make a quick pit stop real quick?"

Pointing out the store before he missed the turnoff, I savored the snack as it exploded on my tongue in a chorus of delicious hallelujah. While I preferred the real kind of jerky, this stuff wasn't awful, but it was never anything close to tasting as great as it did right now. This was virtually all the confirmation I needed to be sure, but it would have been nice to have all the details before getting our hopes up.

Pulling in just a tad too sharp for my liking - rather my innards were the one with complaint - Nate parked and turned to look at me. He might not have known what was going on in my head (or my body), but he was starkly aware that something was off with me. More than just the nausea and pain.

"What's up Elena? First you're practically dying then you're devouring all my protein snacks. I don't mind, but you never touch my beef jerky. Is there something you're not telling me?" He was dancing all around the answer, but I couldn't tell if he was edging away from the truth on purpose or not.

Panicking at the thought of how he was going to react to the introduction of the subject, it crossed my mind to hold off from catching him up to speed until I had all the details for myself. It might have been easy to deceive him, but I didn't want to lie, even if it was a little white lie. We'd come too far for that now.

"Nate," taking his hands in mine, I wished that I could have done this in the privacy of our home instead of in public, "I think I might know what's wrong with me. Nate, I think I'm pregnant." Scared as I was, when the words came out of my mouth I could feel myself smiling at the thought.

"..." Succumbing to shock, he stared at me for a moment. I couldn't blame him for not knowing what to say.

"Nate?" Sliding one hand up his wrist and forearm, I touched his face with the other. He responded enough to my touch to show that he was still with it, but there was just too much going on in his head to even attempt speech. So that was all it took to shut him up. Who knew?

Nodding against my hand, his face slowly broke into one of his biggest, goofiest grins. "I'm gonna be a dad." There was no question about it, only joy. I didn't want to have to be the naysayer, but someone had to break it to him that we didn't know that for sure yet.

Opting to give him a minute to consider that not everything about having a baby was going to be a wonderful experience (we'd certainly have a long discussion later, whether or not he reached that conclusion on his own), I pulled back. "Well maybe not. Here, do us a solid and keep the getaway car running. I need to stretch myself out for a minute or two." For a moment I thought that he was going to put up a fight about making me stay in the car, but surprisingly he relented.

"I'll give you ten minutes, but if you're not back before that I'll have no choice but to assume the worst and move on." Sick as I was feeling, I kissed him before getting out of the car chuckling.

- Crystal Savage -

Opening the door in my star-spangled bathrobe, I was only mildly surprised to see Father Duffy with a police escort. Two years ago this could have been about anything, but nowadays if any authoritative figure came knocking on my door it could only have been one thing: Samuel Morgan. Technically Sam was no longer under the care Father Duffy, but the priest still cared enough to involve himself when he could. In a way I envied that.

"He ain't here." I know I'd said it before - and with varying levels of conviction - but this time I really meant it when I said I was done with Sam. There were some damn good times when we were together, but it just wasn't enough to make us a good thing. I understood that now that I was sober and trying to make something of my situation.

A kindly man despite the tyrannical institution he worked for, Father Duffy frowned at my sharp tone. "I'm afraid it's more serious than that, my child." Immediately my mind flashed to the worst possible scenarios, but the priest shook his head, "God-willing, Samuel and Nathan are fine, where ever they are."

"Nathan?" I wasn't very familiar with the kid having only met him once, but Sam would hardly ever shut up about his younger brother. Intelligent as he was, thinking things through was't exactly Sam's strongest suit, but surely he knew better than to get Nathan involved! ...Right?

Antsy to get the show on the road, the pig in blue chimed in, "The trail is dead cold, but the Father here says you knows them boys."

Old me would have popped him square in the jaw for that, but old me wasn't much better at making decisions than Sam was. But if he were in trouble... Father Duffy may have been optimistic about their fate, but I could feel my innards knotting up at the thought that something grim had occurred. Much as the fuzz lived to give her kind trouble, if anything happened to Sam and his kid brother I'd never forgive myself if I could have helped.

Not giving myself much time to consider that I was helping the police, I blurted out the words, "I used to date Sam. USED to. We haven't spoken in a while..." opening the door, I revealed something to the cop and the Father that not even Sam knew. Now he'd likely never know about it, but that was more of a comfort to me than it was a burden.

Plush as my dad's old robe was, there was no mistaking the cause of my haggard appearance. More than anything else (judgmental being my first guess as to how a man of the cloth would view the scene), Father Duffy seemed saddened by this turn of events. The officer seemed even less surprised by my condition than I was to find them on my front step. I think the only reason he didn't open his mouth is because of the priest.

For just a moment the unknown whereabouts of the Morgan boys was put on the back burner. In a selfish sort of way, it was kinda nice being recognized for my own person outside of my relationship.

"My dear girl, are you being properly treated?" Taking one glance over my shoulder at the sorry arrangement behind me, I could have laughed at that. However I stopped myself, knowing that he was one of the few good ones.

"As good as my family can afford." Frankly I was still shocked that my daddy took me back in, but I guess turning up on his doorstep at three in the morning and repentant must have done the trick. "So," stepping aside, I permitted them entrance, "when was the last time they were seen?"

The officer supplied the details, Father Duffy filling in one or two holes after explaining that Nathan had just gotten in trouble for fighting. So far that sounded about right. Sir Bacon glanced around the place while the Father spoke, no doubt searching for evidence of drugs. Rotten bastard, jumping to conclusions like that. I've been clean for the better part of a year, and my daddy was working on reaching double-digits. Guess the lack of my momma made it easier for the both of us to cope.

"We were hoping that maybe they'd come looking for help from friends." As this case was over the typical forty-eight hour mark, Father Duffy was disappointed by yet another dead end.

The priest was clearly beating himself up over the disappearance. Worried as I was that Sam's plans (whatever they were) had backfired horribly, seeing how twisted the Father was over this made me want to clock that jerk. Again. Whatever his intentions may have been, he never looked far beyond himself and his little brother.

"Again, I haven't seen or spoken to Sam in about six months now." I didn't need to say anything to him. Were there things I should have said? Yeah, there were. God knows how many things I should have said, but even if I ever saw him again, I knew that I couldn't bring myself to do it, to apologize. "We ended on pretty bad terms, so I doubt he'd come 'round here. Not unless he was really screwed."

Rubbing the crucifix hanging from his neck with the back of his thumb, I could tell that this wasn't the way the priest wanted to end the investigation. "I failed those boys. I failed them, despite my best efforts."

Sensing that the interview was over, Johnny Law almost tripped over his own two feet to reach the front door. Father Duffy went to follow after, but something compelled me to reach out and pause him. Technically my daddy had raised me Catholic, but I was hardly a model student of the Lord. Maybe it was time to change that, or maybe I just wanted to offer a chance at redemption.

"Wait, can you... can you help me, Father Duffy? I know it isn't standard procedure to ask this outside of confession, but I'm not sure I'm ready to step into a church just yet."

Nodding to the policeman that he could leave, the priest smiled at me. "A patient shepherd knows that a lost lamb wanting to return home to the rest of the flock will best respond to gentle care. A good shepherd will also know when a lamb is trying to help him in kind. Thank you, Crystal."

Vaguely aware of what I was signing myself up for, I just prayed that this one act of kindness was for the best. "I ain't done anything yet."

Father Duffy obviously disagreed, "You have, dear girl, you have. And just remember that if you or the child ever has need of anything, you know where to find me."

Ultimately, I look back and wonder if Father Duffy had ever regretted his offer to help...