Author's note: Hi! This is my first real drabble, please let me know whether I did okay?
I just needed a bit of silliness after watching the first few episodes of season 4. However, the mood may change in other scenes since I do love some angst and a little life threatening danger, perhaps even slash. So far it's pretty harmless on both accounts. Enjoy!
Also, if there is anything you'd love to see during the next few scenes, shoot me a message or better yet, leave a review.
Chapter I
It had been a deceptively quiet day aboard the Ranger until the four most dangerous men of Nassau decided to fight to death over a tablespoon. It wasn't even a valuable or pretty spoon, just one of those metal, slightly bent with age utensils that generations of sailors had used before. And yet Captain Flint was bleeding for it, Captain Vane was limping because of it, Long John Silver had too little breath left for one of his trademark brazen comments because he'd wanted it and Ismail Hand was grinning in true maniac fashion, the spoon held high in his left hand.
"Ya fuckers couldn't beat me down. Nobody can beat me", Ismail crowed with the certainty of a man who'd won. "Next time", he drawled and bent down on his knee, which in turn pressed down on the boot that was currently located on Silver's chest. "Next time you better watch whatcha sayin', aye?"
Silver just hummed noncomittally and showed his charming toothy grin, his eyes roaming from the offending boot over Hand's face to settle on Flint's form that loomed up behind the red haired pirate. Attentively, Ismail followed the look and ducked below Flint's swing, thus putting his weight onto his elevated foot. This prompted a pained "oof!" from the downed man while Charles Vane seized the opportunity and scythed Hand's feet out from under him.
"Arrogant fucker", Vane commented with a satisfied smirk in Flint's direction.
Ismail Hand crashed onto the wooden planks with a resounding clank and another exclamation of discomfort from John Silver, who was suddenly confronted with 200 pounds of smelly pirate. However, he also came close to snatching the spoon from Hand's fingers before Vane beat him to it.
Before the Captain of the Ranger could right himself again and secure his prize, Flint met him with a well placed right hook.
They traded blows, the spoon stowed precariously in Vane's weapon's belt where usually his pistols sat. In fact they were all unarmed - except for Silver as it turned out, whose crutch was cunningly reimagined as a projectile and shot right between Vane's fast moving feet. He tripped and Flint got a hold of the spoon. With his body elevated by the first steps towards the quarter deck and the sun outlining his dark figure he looked every bit the regal notorious pirate king.
The other three were far from impressed though and gladly rose to the challenge. Ismail engaged first but Flint managed to fight him off with the help of his position. Moreover, the stairway was too narrow to allow more than one competitor at a time. A fact which Flint made the most of during his subsequent heated clash with Vane.
"Hey James?", Silver suddenly asked from above him. How the fuck had he gotten up there? Flint cursed like only sailors could as he pivoted and saw the metal that glinted in Silver's fist. The spoon!
"Yes, Long John Silver?", Flint replied and used the full title by choice. In response his quartermaster grinned brightly and hobbled up the remaining steps, Flint, Hand and Vane lying in wait for the inevitable ambush.
"You should really know me better by now and expect the metaphorical dagger in the back", Silver lectured superciliously. Flint snorted and struck, mercilessly taking the crutch away from his pain in the ass friend and occasional enemy.
"And you should know by now I don't mess around", he said once he had a panting Silver laid out on the deck in a choke hold. Silver hit the planks twice with his open palm and signaled surrender.
"Well, that was hardly fair", he lamented.
"Pirates", Flint reminded him with an uncharacteristic wink. Meanwhile, Captain Vane and Ismail Hand had surrounded him from both sides, causing Flint to retreat to the steering wheel where a bemused Jack Rackam watched the exchange. The stylishly dressed man stayed exactly where he was even as Flint was systematically torn apart by the two prairie wolves named Charles Vane and Ismail Hand. Soon the Captain of the Walrus was lying next to Silver, devoid of one all important spoon.
In contrast to Silver, Flint didn't stay down, though. He quickly dusted himself off and then rejoined the melee by kicking Vane aside just as the man retrieved the prize from Ismail. Vane retaliated by a mean uppercut aimed at Flint's chin and a powerful poke to the ribs with the spoon itself. Flint gasped and staggered back, sure that he'd feel the bruises later.
To add insult to injury, Ismail laughed at the younger Captain's misery and muttered some comparison between Flint and a fish on land. Without bothering to answer, Flint pushed his shoulder into Hand's body and propelled the man at Vane, who barely evaded the attack.
The quarrel moved down to the main deck again, close to the entrance to the lower decks. All three men were breathing hard and sweating in the evening sun, the exhilaration and the adrenaline driving mad grins onto their faces. For the last two minutes, Vane had successfully held on to the spoon by keeping the solid wall to his back so that he could see any approaching enemy. Nevertheless, his low relaxed stance was shaken by an onslaught of the sheer force of nature that was Ismail Hand.
Vane grudgingly tried to back up a step only to be hit full force by the door behind him when it opened. It rebounded off his muscular back and in the process ruined Vane's balance. Halfway on his way to the ground and, more importantly, halfway to loosing the spoon, Vane rolled and came up facing the door. As he beheld a serious looking Anne Bonny he held up his hands, which allowed Hand to take the spoon. Flint immediately challenged his claim while Anne and Vane looked on from the sidelines.
"Fucking children", Anne commented and caused Vane to slightly raise his eyebrow in silent rebuke. Of course Anne ignored the gesture until the silence stretched.
"Present company excluded, Vane." Which sounded more insincere than when Silver told them he could cook. Vane remained unconcerned about the lie due to the knowledge that in a real fight the deadly female pirate would always have his back.
"So why are you here?", Vane inquired in a low voice and shook his head as Flint and Ismail's brawl transformed slowly but surely into an undignified wrestling match.
"Remindin' you of Eleanor Guthrie's meeting. You've got to show this time if ya don't wanna loose the fucking claim on the Urca gold."
"Fine." With those three for company, Vane mused as he beheld the ragged appearance of the Spoon Fighter Squad, it might even be enjoyable this time.