The night sky was clear and the breeze the swept across the gentle rolling sea was refreshing on her exposed skin. She had shed her boots and padded across the deck enjoying the coolness of the damp boards under her bare feet. She lifted her skirt high enough that its tattered helm brushed her knees letting her legs breath in the night air. The full moon set high in the sky lighting the deck enough that no lanterns were needed. Anamaria enjoyed being on watch duty on nights this fair.
The men were gathered in the galley, in to their collective cups and jovial over the profitable capture of swag from a merchant ship earlier that afternoon. No one would fault her for feeling cross over being left out of the celebration, but in all fairness it was her turn at watch, and in all reality she didn't mind in the least. Considered a mundane chore by majority of the crew, it gave her reason to be alone on deck without appearing to be unsocial. Still, just to keep face, she shot the Captain her coldest scowl before complying with the order. The confined quarters of the ship made any chance of privacy a luxury. At the moment, she felt like a queen.
There was a scuffle on the companionway stairs that was followed by loud belligerent cursing. Pintel had tripped on the top step and dropped the rum bottle he was carrying. Just like that, from queen back to pirate in seconds. Frustrated by the intrusion, she dropped her skirt and crossed her arms over her chest with ire.
He didn't give her the slightest acknowledgement beyond a grunt before he crossed to the opposite side of the ship and relieved himself over the railing. Appalled, Anamaria focused her gaze to the distant starboard horizon. At least he had the decency to turn his back to her before exposing himself. Apparently he had a lot to drink, or a bladder the size of a bull's, because it took full minute before he adjusted his trousers and turned back around.
She continued to stare starboard as his footfalls moved to the companionway and paused as he bent and lifted his bottle of rum. She waited, but they did not continue down the stair. He approached and stood to her right.
"Care fer a belt, poppit?" He asked gruffly beside her holding up the bottle askew. His offer sounded forced as if he did so only out of feeling guilty that she was missing out on the celebration below. When she didn't turn, seemingly set to disregard his offer, he lowered the bottle abruptly while walking away and spat indignantly, "Fine."
Pintel had descended the first tread when Anamaria shouted her acceptance. "Hand o'er that bottle."
She surprised herself when she spoke, and briefly felt uncomfortable, wishing she could retract her words when he turned around showing the same expression.
He walked back slowly with a smirk on his face obviously pleased with himself that he was able to get the woman to respond to him. The smirk increased when she put the bottle to her lips and took a slow, satisfying drink.
"Now, ain't dat a fine thing." He commented. "T'would been a shame if ye'd let me walk away afta all, huh."
She gave him a half smile and passed the bottle back to him.
He put his hands up, not taking the bottle. "Tis yers. Only seems right n'all, y'know, fer ya being on duty whilst we blokes enjoy ourselves." He didn't give a damn about her being on watch while the rest of them celebrated. Seeing that she smiled because of him delighted Pintel to no ends and was the reason he gave her his bottle. "Well den," He gave a nod and turned on his heal to leave.
"Why not share it." She called out but didn't know why.
This time, when he turned around, his expression was confused instead of surprised. They'd been on the same ship for some time and never once could Pintel remember Anamaria speak to him and it befuddled him why she was so now. He eyed her suspiciously. "Why?"
"Did I stutter? Need I ask twice?" She snapped rudely, another thing she did without understanding why.
He snatched the bottle from her hand. "If yer gonna get all snippy, then ya not be deservin' this." He stomped towards the stair with a huff.
"Sorry!" Anamaria called again this time actually taking after him.
When Pintel jerked around to be face to face with her, Anamaria reflexively backed a step. If he had not been looking directly at her, she would have slapped her palm against her forehead in disbelief of her own actions. He was not handsome, not even good looking, and calling him homely was still stretching it. He was short and stocky. An aberrant and unidentifiable odor dogged his immediate surroundings. Tangled tuffs of hair covered his exposed chest while the top of his skull was so bald it reflected the moonlight. He had bad teeth from years of malnourishment and dim eyes that seemed to emulate evil itself. Pintel's permanent boorish and irritable disposition made him insufferable to be around and was possibly his worst trait. He was defiantly not her type. Maybe it was the beauty of the night, the overall jubilant atmosphere on the ship, or his simple friendly gesture that made his present company desirable to Anamaria.
"Fine." Pintel said a bit shaky. He took a sip of rum, lowered the bottle briefly, and then deciding that he needed more of the liquid courage, returned it to his mouth for another draft before passing the bottle back to the woman.
She took a drink finishing the rum and tossed the empty bottle into the ocean.
The rum was gone. Without it, the two stood facing each other in an awkward silence neither knowing what to do or say next. Pintel scratch his chin nervously and Anamaria padded her upper thighs with her hands.
With a nervous voice, Pintel finally broke the silence. "Well, den... should be gettin' back n'all, y'know, below deck."
"Aye, and I need be back on watch anyhow." She agreed, fidgeting with her hands.
"Later den," Pintel waited before departing half anticipating her to stop him again. When she only smiled politely in return, he nodded and turned.
"Wait one moment." Anamaria said softly.
Pintel turned back to her slowly with a worried look on his face. What could this woman possible want now?
Anamaria walked up to Pintel, timid with her steps, and planted a light peck on his forehead. She didn't know why she kissed the man. She was not drunk, not even tipsy, but it felt right.
A feather could have knocked Pintel down flat.
He never expected that, ever. Feeling a surge of backbone, he reached his hand around the back of hear head and pulled her down to meet him in a kiss.
She gasped at first, shocked by his boldness, and then found herself moving her lips with his and enjoying the sensation.
He released the kiss, swallowed hard, and said breathlessly, "Well, ain't dat a fine thing."
"Thank ya for sharin' it." Anamaria said with a smile, and not talking of the rum. "I best be back on watch."
He nodded and stumbled slightly as he turned around and headed to the companionway. Before he descended, he flashed the woman one last confused glance and she covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her laugh when he actually pinched himself.
Pintel sat next to his nephew in the galley, quite pale and still feeling awkward about what had just happened on deck. Luckily, the others in the room did not notice his total change in demeanor from when he had left, as he now sat staring blankly at his hands folded on the table. Pirates always exaggerated their tales with women, but his were always a total fabrication. He finally had a story to tell, but he believed that if anyone else knew about his kiss with Anamaria that its intimacy would be tainted and loose what made it so special. No, he would not tell anyone, not even his nephew. It was a tender moment that had been between just he and her, and he decided to keep it that way. And besides, no one would believe him anyway. He himself barely believed it.
"Dat was a long piss, if I may say so meself." Ragetti joked passing Pintel a full mug.
Pintel, snapping back to his typical surly self, cracked that the length of the piss was directly related to the length of his manhood. Finding it funny, Ragetti turned to the man at his other side and told him the joke.
Inspiration for this quirky one-shot came from three sources. The first two are loosely based from The Broken Compass's 'I propose a challenge' thread prompts 'pairing of characters which are not my favorite' and 'magnetism.' The third came from the Sex and the City episode I saw last night where Charlotte first hooks up with Harry and it is declared that ugly sex is hot sex.