Melinda's End of the Sea by Meowser Clancy
A/N: Who could ever resist a pirate AU?
Cautioning now that I definitely don't promise historical accuracy. I promise a good time and Jimel sexiness, but I'm not going to go all out researching for this. I'm going to try, obviously, but please don't shoot me if Jim uses the wrong century cannon.
Pairings: Jimel
Andrea/OC
Delia/Tim Flaherty
Ned/OC (not my OC. Katie, who belongs to GhostWhispererFangirl)
Melinda Gordon was furious, and her fists clenched at her sides. Her bathrobe and nightgown were already soaked from the short moment she'd been standing on deck and she was beginning to realize just what had happened, and that maybe she should have stayed in her cabin, like Delia had urged her to when Delia herself went up on deck to see what all the clamor was about.
The deck seemed to sway beneath Melinda's feet as she started across it, hurrying to her friend's side.
"We have been attacked by pirates," Delia said, white faced. "Why did you not stay below, Melinda?"
"I couldn't stand waiting, but why would they attack?" Melinda wondered. "We're not a merchant ship nor one bearing soldiers. What could pirates gain by attacking us?"
"They thought us an easy target, in this storm," Delia whispered.
The rain beat down over their heads. "What are we going to do? Go back beneath deck?" Melinda asked her friend. "Because I don't wish to. I don't want to hide away only to be dragged from our beds in a few hours."
They watched the scene below; a mess of their ship's crew and the pirates, who were a motley, ugly bunch.
As Melinda and Delia watched from the upper deck, more men swung from the pirate ship to theirs.
"We need to go back below," Delia said. "I see...I think that's the captain."
"Where?" Melinda asked, fists curling anew.
She didn't need this sort of peril. Her life was already complicated enough, after being summoned to sail on a ship to where her father waited in Jamaica.
She hadn't wanted to go to him. She'd never even known him, not really. But after the death of her grandmother, that was the only option for her...besides marrying.
She thought of Kevin McCall, and shuddered, knowing that she'd never let herself go back to New York if that was her only option.
But, as she'd said, the Jennifer II was no merchant ship. It was merely transportation; a few weary souls trying to get to Jamaica, to eke out a living there. They had no money, no gold. There were no rich passengers aboard the Jennifer II.
She followed where Delia's shaking hand pointed, over the heads of dirty, ugly pirates, to a man now walking the gangplank connecting the two ships.
Her breath seemed to catch, for a brief moment.
Tall, broad shouldered, muscular.
Well, of course he would be. Weren't all pirate captains? He was probably on his way to fifty in age. He probably had a wife in every port.
She straightened anew. "I'm not going back beneath deck," she vowed.
"Melinda, you have to, you don't know what these men will do to a young lady such as yourself," Delia fretted.
Poor Delia. She had only been making the trip as a favor to Melinda, since Melinda had no living relations to serve as chaperon. And now this. This was the thanks Delia got for being a good friend.
The fighting had halted below them. The Jennifer II's crew had been completely overwhelmed by the expert fighters from the pirate ship.
Captain Gregory stumbled forward, clutching his side. "Please, sir, this is merely a transportation ship. We have no valuable cargo, no gold. Our passengers are the poorest sort. There is nothing for you here. Please just let us go on our way to Jamaica."
From where she was standing, she couldn't make out the look on the pirate captain's face. He wore no hat and in the flickering flash of lightning that lit up the sky she could suddenly almost see his face. He had long black hair, almost shoulder length.
He was younger than she'd thought.
She inhaled sharply, angry to find that she had a tangled feeling in her belly; like the one she'd felt with Kevin McCall sometimes. The one that meant she found a man attractive.
No. This man...he was evil. He had to be, to attack a ship like this. There could be no justifiable explanation.
"I cannot do that," the pirate captain replied. "Tell me, good sir, what is your name?"
"I am Captain Gregory, and this is my ship, the Jennifer II," Gregory stammered. "I have been transporting passengers from New York to Jamaica for a good fifteen years now. I have never carried anything of real value. I am not a merchant, sir."
"Captain Gregory, I appreciate your words of introduction," the pirate captain replied. "I am Captain James Clancy. And I promise you, your ship will make it to Jamaica."
"Blessed be," Gregory whispered. "Then why did you stop us?"
Captain Clancy smiled; Melinda could hear it in his voice over the pounding rain.
"Your ship will make it to Jamaica," he replied. "With me and my crew on board."
Silence, but for the storm.
"What do you mean?" Gregory asked.
"Our ship sustained damage in a previous attack; it can no longer carry us to shore. I merely wish a ride on your boat, Captain," Captain Clancy said.
Melinda reached for Delia's hand, ready to sink back into the shadows.
She glanced behind her to see Andrea, the only captain's sister's slave, standing there behind them.
"What's happening?" Andrea whispered.
"We're being taken over," Melinda said, after a beat.
Gratefulness flashed in Andrea's eyes that she hadn't been ignored, and the dark skinned woman stepped forward to join Melinda and Delia at the rail.
"Pirates, yes?" Andrea asked.
"Yes, they're going to overtake the ship, I believe," Delia said. "We should get back below deck, pretend that we've been in our cabins all along. I think...maybe, this pirate captain means us no harm."
"That cannot possibly be true," Melinda said. "He is probably lying to gain Captain Gregory's trust."
Andrea nodded solemnly, surveying the scene below.
"Captain Clancy, I—I don't know what to say," Gregory said.
"We need only room for my crew, our valuables...and a cabin for myself," Captain Clancy told him. "You, unfortunately, will have to spend the remainder of your days locked up. I'm afraid that there will only be room for one captain on this ship. And, for everyone's safety, your crew will have to be locked in the hold. I promise; once we reach Jamaica you can have your precious ship back."
"And the passengers?" Gregory asked.
Delia, Melinda and Andrea instinctively shrank back, but it was too late.
Captain Clancy was looking up, to see if there was anyone watching. Melinda's breath caught to see his upturned face, searching the upper decks, his eyes alighting on her, Delia and Andrea in turn.
He gave a sharp nod.
Melinda turned to Delia in a panic, wondering what on earth that was supposed to mean, and then there were brawny arms taking hold of her, dragging her down the steps; she saw that Delia and Andrea had been captured too, by some of Captain Clancy's men.
Curses.
"I see we have some passengers waiting to greet us," Captain Clancy said, walking forward.
"Please—" Gregory began, but Captain Clancy only held up his hand and Gregory fell silent.
His gaze moved from woman to woman, not staying long on Andrea and Delia, but when his gaze fell on Melinda, his lips curved into a slow smile, and he folded his arms across his broad chest.
"Who do we have here?" He whispered, stepping closer to her.
She wanted to shrink back but it would mean lessening the distance between herself and her captor, so she stood firm.
Captain Clancy's eyes seemed to be raking over every single inch of her, pausing at certain parts of her anatomy for so long that Melinda flushed a bright red.
She looked down at herself for a moment, and her blush deepened. In the struggle of being caught, her bathrobe had been untied; it had fallen open to reveal her nightgown, which was now completely plastered to her skin. She wondered what had been visible to him, but she had no way to tie the robe again.
Captain Clancy snapped his fingers and the man holding her fell back, letting her go. Melinda rubbed her wrists, staring up at Captain Clancy and making no move to tie her robe, even though she knew that he knew that she'd noticed its sudden lack of coverage.
"That is Miss Gordon," Gregory said, after no one spoke for a long moment.
The storm was dying away; the sea was settling.
"This is Miss Banks," Gregory continued, gesturing to Delia. "And that is Andrea, my sister's slave."
Captain Clancy didn't even look at them. Instead he reached out and took one of Melinda's hands, bringing it to his lips before she could stop him.
His lips were hot, almost seeming to scald her cold skin. They seemed to part, and then, out of sight of everyone else, Captain Clancy flipped her hand over to kiss her palm; open mouthed.
Melinda couldn't breathe. She felt that part of her stomach stir to life again; she felt her breasts grow heavy and sore...were her nipples hard? She didn't want to know. She didn't want to look, for she was afraid that they'd be visible to Captain Clancy too.
In a moment of decisiveness and panic, Melinda jerked her hand away and let it fly. Her hand connected with his cheek with a resounding slap. "How dare you, you cur!" Melinda snapped, and then gasped as he caught her wrist in his big hand, jerking her towards him, twisting her body nearer to his.
She could see the mark her hand had left clear on his face. He looked angry. "The next time you let your hand fly like that you won't like the outcome," he warned her.
Their bodies were close. Too close. She could sense that he felt it too; her breath was coming in pants, and she was suddenly frozen.
His eyes were blue, she realized. Terribly blue. She stared up at him, terrified, and something seemed to soften in his face. His hand around her wrist felt almost gentle, for a moment, as he let go of her.
She backed away, and then Captain Clancy was striding forward again, until she was pressed against the wall of the ship, him looming over her. He was reaching his hands out, so big and controlling...and then they landed on her waist, slipping around her until they found the ties of her bathrobe.
His hands brushed against her side, not touching her breasts, though he had ample excuse to. Melinda watched as he tied her bathrobe, tightly, not touching any part of her body that would have made her uncomfortable.
"You're just a girl after all," he whispered, in words that only she was meant to hear. "I didn't mean to frighten you. You had ample right to slap me."
She watched as he let go of the ties and turned around, striding back into the midst of his crew. "Captain Gregory, I'll need you to go to your cabin. Jamison, make sure that all of his men go peaceably down below to be locked up. The rest of you, bring our cargo over."
"And you, captain?" The man who seemed to be Jamison asked. He was a huge black man, taller even than Captain Clancy, and even more muscular.
"I'm going to get someone to escort these ladies back to their cabins," Captain Clancy replied, and the crowd of pirates began to disperse, going to their assigned tasks. "Ned!"
A teenage boy came out of the crowd of pirates, lanky and friendly looking. "Yes, captain?"
"Ask Miss Banks where these ladies' cabins are, and escort them there," Captain Clancy ordered.
"Yes, captain," Ned replied, quick as a wink.
He came dashing over to where they stood, as Captain Clancy strode across the deck towards his ship, with a quick pace.
As Ned began to lead them up the stairs so that they could go back to their cabins, Melinda couldn't take her eyes off of Captain Clancy's back. She pondered over the words he'd spoken, wondering if some of his bravado was just an act.
Just a girl.
She wasn't just a girl. As Ned led them to their cabin, Delia tugged at Melinda, trying to make her face forward, but Melinda didn't want to take her eyes off of him.
She wasn't just a girl. She was a woman.
And suddenly she wanted to be a woman in his eyes.
