A/N: I have no excuse, I wanted to write something cute and here it is. Enjoy, please!
Pirate England and Little America
Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk.
Captain Kirkland loved the heavy, powerful sound of his boots clunking their way to his cabin on his ship. He loved the slight pull of his hoop earring on his earlobe and the jangling of jewelry everywhere on his body. He loved the tickle of the feather from his hat on his cheek, the weight of the pistols and rapier on his side, and the majestic, long- tailed red coat that swished in his wake.
He slammed the door of his cabin shut just to make noise and plopped himself behind his desk that was covered with maps, compasses and other tools.
He had just plundered the Canary Islands, so he needed to stop back home to unload the brig to lighten the ship. After home, he could visit Bermuda, or Cuba, just to piss off that wanker Spain... Or, better yet, raid Lille. That would twist France's pretty pantaloons into a good knot. Or even stop by one of Prussia's insignificant coastal towns. It was no use, he needed some input.
"Thomas!" He bellowed at the door. A teenage youth with a mop in his hand peeked in. "Aye, Captain?" He asked meekly. "Get Robinson and Scott in here, now." The kid bobbed up and down and shut the door behind him.
In ten seconds flat, two tall and muscular men, one with a vest and pants with a bandanna, one without any upper- body covering and pants with his hair tied back, were peering over the maps along with their captain.
The lankier of the two, Scott, suggested, "The Spaniards found a whole cache of Aztec gold a couple- a weeks back, the wealth must-a made it to Hispaniola by now." The burlier one, Robinson, shook his head. "The sky's predicting bad storms over the Atlantic this month, it'd be a dangerous crossing with little reward if we hit an unlucky town."
"If we hit an unlucky port, we move on to the next one. There's no way we can pass up this opportunity, who knows when we'll next be able to get our hands on Aztec gold?" Scott argued. "Aye, but the ship's already damaged from that blasted cannon from the Canaries. Even if we do make it across, the ship could end up being damaged beyond repair!"
Captain Kirkland watched this exchange with an amused smile on his face while twirling a whittling knife in his fingers. Part of why he called the men in here was because even though they were the sharpest minds on his ship, they could never seem to agree. It was always fun to listen to them argue.
"Enough," he finally said, holding up a black- gloved hand. His lackies fell silent. "Robinson has the right of it. We'll sail for Lille and Zelenogradsk after London. After a month-" he violently stuck the knife on a colored bit of a map- "We strike Havana directly."
"Jolly good, Captain."
"Aye."
"Now," the Captain said calmly, leaving the knife in his desk, "tell me about the damage sustained from the cannon and why it has yet to be repaired."
Scott and Robinson both opened their mouths, presumably to blame each other, when the door burst open.
"Awrfur, Awrfur!"
A little boy with sunny blonde hair charged into the cabin in a nightgown, triumphantly holding aloft a little golden horse with wheels.
Captain Kirkland instinctively put out his arms to catch the boy, just in time for the kid to sail into his arms with the new toy. Alfred situated himself on the man's lap and held up the little horse. "Awrfur, Martin gave me the horse and said I could keep it! But it has to be okay wif you first! Can I keep it, pwwweease?" Arthur looked down at the child in surprise. "Of course you may keep it, lad. Martin was quite right to give it to you, wasn't he? It suits you well."
Alfred cheered and started babbling about going to have lots of /real/ horses when he got bigger and how they were going to be "rwelly, rwelly fast!" Arthur watched the small one talk at the speed of light for a good minute or so with a fond smile on his face. Truthfully, he only understood about half of what the boy was saying, but they way his big blue eyes gleamed and sparkled excitedly spoke volumes.
"Er, Captain..."
Arthur's gaze snapped back up to his crew members. "The damage from the cannon. Yes, well, fix it, but make sure that Morgan is doing the heavy lifting, he's been lazy as of late."
The two cut their gazes to each other, and Arthur could just tell that they resented being upstaged by a toddler in a nightgown. Arthur quirked a brow at them while Alfred played on his lap, playing dumb. "Somethin' the matter, mates?"
Scott and Robinson shook their heads quickly. "Nay, Captain, not at all." Captain Kirkland smiled wickedly. "Good. Now put your backs into it!" He ordered. Arthur nudged Alfred under the table so his crew wouldn't see him. As trained, Alfred promptly piped, "Get to work, you scallywags!" Arthur barely bit back a snort of laughter at the flash of irritation on his subordinate's faces before they backed out of his cabin.
"Did I say it right, Awrfur?" Arthur ruffled the boy's hair. "Exactly right. Now we'll be visiting France in a few weeks, so be prepared to show that frog what us British pirates are made of, aye?"
"Aye!"
He was so adorable that Arthur couldn't resist sniggering and plopping a tricorn hat on the kid's head. "It's too big!" The boy complained.
The sight of little America lifting the hat up with one eye peeking up at him would become a memory that would warm England's heart on cold days for centuries to come.
A/N: PLEASE REVIEW SO I KNOW WHETHER OR NOT MY WRITING SUCKS ASS. Thank you all have a lovely day.