Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed or any of the mentioned characters. All rights belong to Ubisoft and the respective people involved in this project. This was written purely for fun and enjoyment, nothing else.

A/N: So, here we are. The first published fanfic I've written. And, lo and behold, it's Kiddway! This started as a small idea for the Kiddway Headcanons (yes, that Anon was me), but mutated into a proper one shot without my doing...
Don't judge me too hard, please. English is not my first language and I'm just another human, so mistakes happen. Point them out if you like, should you find some. Criticism is good, too. Reviews are appreciated.
Enough prattling - Enjoy!
(Update: Minor typos edited.)

Whenever James Kidd showed his face in Nassau, he usually stopped at least once at the Old Avery tavern. It was the usual spot to meet for the lot of them; Kidd, Thatch, Kenway, Rackham, and all the other pirates they called comrades. It was a merry bunch of people, rough as they were, but likable nonetheless.
And Anne was fond of all of them, really. They were something like a new, colorful family to the Irishwoman.

Being the barmaid in a tavern visited by pirates, most of which usually had taken a closer look at the bottom of their bottle of rum, Anne was used to the constant flirting and lewd glances they shot at her, but she took it lightly. They came and went by like the tide, a steady part of life that rolled back and forth.

But then there was the case of one certain boy named James Kidd.

He was an interesting fellow, she had to admit. Nothing like the others. Charming, good-looking, yes, that much they had in common. But with an addicting air of mystery about him. Though he never made use of any of these aspects..

Surely he had to be aware of the effect he had on some of the women he came across, but he never took advantage of his assets; never openly flirting with one of the girls, only sparing them appraising looks that were not too dirty, smiling at them but never with an obvious ulterior motive. A kiss to the hand, the cheek even, at most. He was quite reserved, the boy.

Soon enough, the redhead somehow found herself developing a small crush on Kidd.

So what if she had a husband? James Bonny was a busy man, almost never around, and he couldn't possibly judge her for her actions if he never caught wind of them. He was a fine man, sure, but the problem at hand was that he usually was never around, leaving Anne to herself in the midst of more men who were willing to keep her company than she could possibly count. That was her kind of reality right now.

Another trait that came with being a barmaid in a place full of drunk pirates: she was used to handling them with a certain degree of flirtation, as it made them come back and spend even more money on rum (or girls).

It was the same with Jim. The only apparent difference was that whenever he was around, she kind of neglected the others and instead focused on him. It was no surprise that the others caught on to it - and word travels fast among these folks, so it quickly became a well-known secret that Anne Bonny was after James Kidd.

These days, it was a common sight to see her pressed against his back, sitting so close to him their thighs were touching, reaching across him to fill another mug with rum, pressing her bosom into his side, trailing her fingers over his cheek, touching him whenever she was near enough.
Not once did he actually partake in her flirtations, though.
Not really refusing her, but not responding either. He just kind of.. kept going along with it, just like that.

Most of the time when Kenway was around as well, he just stayed in one of the corners of the terrace that served as the tavern, quietly sipping his fill of rum and observing them.

What the others did not know, however, was that he needed his mug to hide his ever-present, shit-eating grin (the one that only Edward was able to pull off like that and wore it whenever he could) while watching Anne's fruitless efforts at seducing Kidd.

For he was one of the very few who knew the truth about the mystery of James Kidd – namely, him actually being a lass called Mary Read. A lass he respected very much, even. A capable pirate, a bloody Assassin doing their job better than good (and knowing that fact, going as far as using it to her advantage, much to his dismay, if he were honest), and a woman he was glad to call a friend. She was proud and strong, reliable and trusting, merciless but faithful to those she saw potential to be someone better in.
And, truth be told, she was beautiful.

Edward couldn't deny that, nor the fact that yes, there was some kind of attraction he felt towards her. It wasn't just the physical aspect of attraction, though. … Which meant he had some kind of feelings for her, right?

Groaning at himself and the mess he was stuck in, he shook his head to get rid of that particular line of thought. Dwelling on it made him think of Caroline, of the things he had said and done, things that had led him to where he sat now. In a tavern, full of dirty, drunken pirates, ogling a pretty redhead trying to flirt with a lass dressed in men's clothing who he apparently had feelings for.
Never before had he experienced so much chaos at once, and he'd seen his fair share of it already.

It was one of those days when Edward felt particularly.. playful.
Before him played a scene many of the regular visitors of the tavern had seen plenty of times, so it was nothing new to any of them and they came to ignore it.
Kidd sat facing the corner in which Edward sat, with Anne hovering over his shoulder, batting her eyelashes at him, trying to steal a kiss or two from the young lad.

Watching this was one of Edward's favorite pastimes, because as much as he may like Mary, it never failed to amuse him to no end to see her struggling with a woman's advances. It was cruel for him to take his joy in her misery, but then again, Captain Kenway was known to be an asshole from time to time. He was just a man, and a pirate on top of that, after all.
Returning his attention back to his main focus – Kidd and Miss Bonny – he saw that Kidd had had enough of Anne, it seemed, since he pushed her away, even shooting a glare in her direction to make clear he was off limits right now.

Anne sat next to the young sailor, running her hand up his thigh, leaning over to her side to plant a kiss on his throat.
Edward could see Kidd's exasperated expression when he turned his head towards his direction.

James Kidd – or was it Mary? Edward was getting confused with her continuous switching between the two personae. Kidd now, a moment later Mary again, but a second later it was back to Kidd; although he thought he knew both of them pretty well by now, he still had trouble keeping them apart sometimes – was silently asking, begging him, for help? To get rid off an affectionate, beautiful lass offering him her attention?
Of course he was. Well, no, but Mary was.
But for Mary fucking Read to ask Edward, of all people possible, to hurry to her aid?
That was something he'd never expected. Not from her.

But who was he to turn her down in such a moment? No, he was pretty certain he'd do pretty much anything for her. He had risked his life on more than one occasion to save hers, so there was no reason for him not to help her get rid of a lass to keep her disguise as Kidd up – even if said lass was none other than Anne Bonny.

So he found himself throwing back the last of his rum, standing up and sauntering to her with all the grace he could muster (which, surprisingly, was quite a lot, despite the empty bottles of rum that littered his table in the corner) and a promising smirk on his handsome features.

When he loomed over them, the setting sun casting an eerie shadow around him, Anne looked up, smiled at him, but didn't budge from Kidd's side.
Edward returned the smile down at the redhead and, taking her hand in his to pull her up, snaked an arm around her waist, gave her a brazen clap onto her bottom and ushered her to fetch a fresh bottle for him.
He'd barely let go of her hand when he leaned down to where Kidd- Mary- well whoever s/he was right now – sat.

"You done here, mate? How about I try flirting with you for a change?"

His murmur was loud enough for Anne to catch it (it was the whole purpose for this, after all), but low enough not to seem too obtrusive or like it was just some needy rambling of a completely sauced pirate like it so often happened.
After a second, as if it was an afterthought, he bent down further, even closer to her and added "..Mary", breathing her name right into her ear.

If Kenway had been fishing for a reaction from her, he succeeded, though not quite in the way he'd expected.

The shudder that ran through her body traveled all the way into his own, her breath hitching and escaping in a small gasp was music to his ears, and the sight of her eyes narrowing as her cheeks were tinted pink was truly a sight to behold, rare as it was.

This was by far better than anything he had imagined.

An angry Mary Read, ready to punch the living daylights out of him, storming out of the tavern and refusing to talk to him for days maybe, yes. But not a blushing Mary Read, sputtering for a reply like an overwhelmed, unsuspecting lass out there.

However, here she was, doing exactly that, and he was still so very close to her, could smell her, feel her body heat, see her swallowing with some difficulty, and oh how he wanted nothing more than to kiss here senseless right then and there. She sat there, rigid, as if she was afraid to move. Maybe she was. But Mary usually wasn't afraid of him. Or men in general. Or pretty much anything at all. Her breath had quickened, Edward observed. Was she nervous? Angry? He didn't know. And he did not dare to ask or to say anything at all.

The cluttering from the bar behind him brought him out of his trance-like state.
He straightened himself, up to his full height, gave Mary one last long look, grinned over at where he assumed Anne was standing and staring at them, and left the terrace with his trademark shit-eating Kenway-grin in place.

Anne stood behind the bar by now, watching the scene unfold, barely registering what was going on in front of her.
So.. was that why Kidd never returned any of her affections? Because he couldn't give her what she desired of him? Because the thought of her keeping him company... repelled him?

It made sense, she thought.

Never before had she seen him with any of the ladies, neither pretty, young lasses nor some shady whores. In fact, she'd never heard so much of any kind of stories involving women when it came to Jim.

But what about Edward? Wasn't he a self-proclaimed ladies man? As far as Anne knew, he was and had always been. Maybe she just hadn't seen his interest in men, too? He'd never been weird around any other men, be it with his crew or any other associates he had, so it was hard to tell. Or could it be it was just Kidd?

Mary, on the other hand, needed a few more minutes to get her shit together after Edward had left.
When she stood, it was abruptly, her back taut, her eyes hard. She spared the barmaid not even one further glance before she stalked off into the evening, following Edward's steps.

It didn't take her long to locate him. He was wandering towards where his Jackdaw was anchored at the port and it took her even less time to catch up to him, her stride driven with determination.

"Edward! What the bloody hell was that, man? You finally gotten your brains kicked out of your head or what?"

Said pirate turned around to face her, still smirking.

"What's the deal, lass? Pissed I interfered and didn't let her get the job done properly?"
He winked at her, trying to lighten the mood and calm her nerves, but only managed to achieve the exact opposite.

"You bloody well know what my problem is, Kenway! (Ouch, back to Kenway now, huh? He thought.) You did that on purpose, didn't you? Do you want Anne to think I prefer men?! Do you even realize how much trouble that brings along?"

Okay, she wasn't just mad at him. She was furious.

"Don't you?" He was still grinning wolfishly.

"Shut it, man, you know exactly what I mean. I'm talkin' about Kidd. Word will spread quicker than lightning here in Nassau and the next time I set foot here, I'll be laughed at by those bloody rats. I'll lose any respect I've earned over the years, working as hard – if not harder! - than most of you. You think some shite like that makes my life any easier, Edward?"

He took a small step back, but she followed him, not leaving her place right up in his face to snap at him.

"Come on, it wasn't that bad."

"Aye, it was. I don't want to be forced to reveal exactly who I am thanks to a fucking prank of yours."

Sighing, Edward finally gave in. "Fine. I'll talk to Anne tomorrow, all right? She won't say nothing about it."

"You better make sure of that, mate. My threat still stands, you know."
Her pointed glance at his crotch made it clear which threat she meant. As if he'd forget that one so easily.

"You got my word. Your reputation as fearsome pirate won't be scratched, my friend."

Obviously pleased at this, Mary nodded and turned around, ready to head back into the streets of Nassau and do whatever business she had there. But Edward would have none of that. He wasn't quite finished with her yet.

"Mary?", he called after her.

Before she could turn around again, he closed the distance between them with a few long strides and lay his hands on her shoulders, keeping her in place to nuzzle her neck and mumble against her skin.

"I really wouldn't mind continuing where we left off earlier."

With that, he spun her around, grabbed the lapels of her coat and smashed his lips onto hers. It was neither very elegant, nor long and heartfelt, but it did the trick. He let her go then, leaving her standing frozen on the spot, her gaze unblinking, confused, with only a hint of her former anger at him left. For now. Edward was convinced he'd feel her wrath sooner or later.

Still..
"Meet me on the Jackdaw after sunset", he called over his shoulder, as he waved his goodbye and headed back to his ship. Not once did he look back to see her response.

But he sure hoped she'd accept his invitation.

Anne, on the other hand.. well, she went back to how things were supposed to be and paid attention to all customers again.