The dark-haired Lieutenant Lestrade stood at attention as the red coated official took the stage to address the crowd. He lifted his parchment and read.
"In the name of the king, an armada of ships will carry a payment of ten thousand gold coins to the King of France as a sign of our continued friendship. In return, the French crown has stated that they will aid us in patrolling our coastal waters. With the combined navies of France and England patrolling the channel, piracy will be a thing of the past, and our waters will once more be at peace."
"Peace? poppycock!" a man in the crowd muttered. "You know that money they are sending to buy off the French king will return to us before long as cannon balls." A number of heads around him nodded. They all stepped back making way as the men marched off of the stage. The man who spoke of cannons bumping into a dirty beggar who was standing behind him.
"Spare a penny, Guv?" said the stooped figure in a dirty brown coat and tattered grey hat that looked like it had been fished from the jaws of several fighting cats. The man walked past without another glance, and the beggar shuffled away stopping for a moment to look up at a poster stuck to a lamp post. It had the picture of a thin man in a long coat with a three cornered hat and a curled black mustache with the words REWARD for SHERLOCK, The Pirate. Captain of the Black Scorpion. DEAD OR ALIVE emblazoned on the base. If one looked closely, one might have imagined that the beggar smiled.
He shuffled around the corner and entered a shadowed entry way. A few moments later a tall man in a black brushed leather coat emerged from the doorway and strode rapidly down the street. He entered the public house known as Mrs Hudson's and climbed the stairs. He took a moment to adjust his hat to a swarthy angle and uncovered his red scarf before banging on the door.
"John!" he called out.
He could hear muffled cries from behind the door and he rolled his eyes before kicking it open with one blow and yelling, "Loose your lustful limbs from that lubberly lass, ya scurvy wretch. It's time we be getting back to the ship!"
A rustle of rolling skirts revealed the shirtless torso of a man, sturdy and tan, his blond hair short and ruffled, a scar running down his left cheek. "But, Cap'm." he said in a winded voice, "give me a minute or two."
"I said NOW, John Watson or I'll run ya through with my cutlass me self!"
"Aye, Aye, Cap'm"
The tall man turned and rushed down the wooden steps of the public house twisting the end of his mustache with his right hand. He waved away the food that Mrs Hudson offered him and went to the the back table tossing his leg over the chair to sit down.
A few moments later, John came jingling down the stairs still fastening his belt. He sat across from the tall man and took the offered mug of beer and plate of cheese and bread.
"So what is this news that is so damn important that you need to interrupt my ...weekly exercises."
"Weekly?" Sherlock grunted. The man glared at him over his plate and took another bite.
Sherlock laced his fingers together and leaned over the table as he began to speak."There's a fat shipment of gold being sent to France. Supposedly it is an anti-piracy measure to double the guard against bandits in local seas, but actually it is simply a bribe to appease that baby of a French king who has promised another war with England. We can't let him have that gold can we?"
"Of course not. Why, It'd be downright disloyal of us to let him have it. Good British gold should stay in the hands of the British! I say we take that ship, Cap'm."
"I think you're right, Little John."
John scowled and his eyes turned dark. "You need to stop calling me Little John, or I swear I'll shoot the nose straight off your face. You know I can."
"You can shoot the beak off of a sparrow at a hundred paces, but you would never shoot me."
"Try me."
The two of them locked eyes glaring across the table at each other, and then the smaller man began to laugh and then the larger man, until the two of them were guffawing bent over with glee.
Wiggin rushed in then and said, "The crew is all aboard and ready to sail when you are, Cap'n."
Sherlock rose to his feet and tightened the belt of his cutlass over his long coat. He looked down at John, "Ready for a fight?"
"Always," he said with a smile, and they ran off across the dark cobblestones toward their ship, The Black Scorpion."