A cool, salty breeze swept across the docks. Port Eden had grown into something of a veritable haven for the wealthy and elite of the sixteenth century globe. And, at the brink of the vastly undiscovered sea, stood two giants of the sailing world. The Sword of the Sea was a colossal, well-equipped navy ship, maintained to the highest degree, designed to hold dozens of men. The arguably flawless vessel was owned by the Shurleys, the most distinguished family in all the developed world. It was also at the fore of the Navy, which was maintained by Lord Charles Shurley.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, stood one of the most feared ships in the world. The Black Iris was steered by Captain Crowley MacLeod. The ship itself was a monstrous size, stocked with rusty but nonetheless lethal cannons. The ship was so-named due to the thick layers of black soot that usually painted the crews eyelids. Crowley's first mate, his daughter, Lucy Agabon, had become nearly as feared as her father; perhaps because of her reputation of killing the men who dared to touch her in a way that most women had grown to expect.
But back to Captain MacLeod. After having a week of rest (or sex, rum and general amusement) in an island near Africa, he returned to the Black Iris with his crew. "Captain." A gruff voice commanded his attention. He turned slowly, his stubble scratching his hand as he reached to his hat.
"Singer. What's the matter?"
"We have a negotiation with Captain Shurley." Bobby's voice was coated with annoyance. He'd seen enough mutinies accompany new captains on the Black Iris. First Abaddon, then Azazel, and now Crowley... They were doing well, however. They hadn't really attempted anything since his arrival aboard the fair ship.
"Now?" Crowley raised an eyebrow.
"Yep." He grunted. "You arranged it yourself. Somethin' about markin' yer territory."
"Ah, yes, now I remember..." Crowley ran a hand down his jaw thoughtfully. "Well then. We better get a move on, then, eh?" He clapped his hands twice, and everyone stood up, looking at the British captain skeptically, before returning their gaze to Bobby. Dean and Sam had been doing it for so long, it was like second nature. Besides. Crowley's 25 days to Bobby's 25 years was laughable.
"You heard the man! ALL HANDS ON DECK!" Bobby roared. The crew scattered to their posts dutifully, and set to work. "Set the course to Port Eden." He suggested to Crowley.
"Nay. They asked for a meeting several miles east of the docks, I believe. We can moor about... Six miles from their docks. Aye?" Crowley asked. Only it wasn't a question. For a moment, Bobby was filled with surprise. The guy clearly knew what he was doing. But that was now, he reminded himself curtly. Wait 'till the cannons went off. Then they'd see his real colours.
"Aye, cap'n." He replied gruffly, returning to the deck. Crowley watched him leave, then whipped out his compass. They were going at a good pace. They had time. He glanced to the left, and saw Lucy sitting on a barrel of gunpowder. A gust of wind blew her dirty blonde hair out from beneath the dark red bandana she wore around her head. For a moment, he wondered if the cloth had been red when she stole it first. It wouldn't surprise nor distress him. It just meant she was able to fight back.
"You want back-up?" She asked nonchalantly, her green gaze never leaving the sea. A little smile crossed his lips, and he chuckled briefly.
"I'll be alright, love. You just sit outside, in case any gentlemen would dare to intrude." He added smoothly. He trusted her with his life. And with her own. As the ship powered through the waves, Dean glanced up at Lucy, then winked at her with a knowing smirk. She caught his gaze, then lifted her thumb, drawing a horizontal line across her throat with her thumbnail. He broke into a full grin, then returned to carrying the barrels of rum below deck. On the way down, Bobby gave him a small frown.
"Son, I'd've assumed you'd have more sense. That girl's dangerous." He warned the younger man. The last thing he wanted was for his name to join the list of the men she'd killed. But, to his bemusement, the eldest Winchester simply scoffed.
"That's the fun of it, Bobby. Otherwise, why bother?" He stepped around the elder man, and set the barrel down beside the rest of them. When he turned to return, however, Bobby was blocking his path.
"Boy, did I ever tell you how I met Jodelle Mills?" He asked, puffing his chest out. It rarely did that unless he spoke of his ship, or, in this case, his greatest love.
"Who, Jodie? Yeah, you gave her some of that rum we got in Barbados, right?"
"Yeah, well... We got married, di'n't we? And now, everytime I'm leavin' her, she gives me these letters. Now, at first, they weren't much good. What with her not readin' much. Nor writin', really. But she's doing real good lately. Sam helps her a lot. Y'know, when we dock."
"That... That sounds like Sammy, alright." He admitted with a wry smile.
"Well, her and Rufus are doin' just fine. But, y'see, she gets lonely when I ain't there..."
"Bobby, uh, look... I'm real sorry, man, but I can't... What Lucy and me have, it's nothin' like love. It's not even infatuation." He enunciated the word carefully. "It's just sex."
"Well, that's why I'm tellin' ya, you great shit-crab." Bobby snapped irritably. "Miss Agabon may well have a guy waitin' for her back home. And he won't be quite so understandin' about this little set-up like I was..." Dean had fallen quiet. Bobby briefly, stupidly, assumed he'd hurt the kids feelings. "Look, Dean..." His softer voice was cut short by a far more feminine tone.
"Mr. Singer, while I appreciate your concern, I don't have a damned soul waiting for me anywhere." Lucy informed him pleasantly from the stairs. Bobby didn't move a muscle, electing instead to turn his head as she walked past him. "At any rate, Dean is a big boy. He can make his own choices. The only thing he has to fear, is Crowley. And my father knows better than to intrude on my life decisions." She continued, her voice smooth and soft as suede.
"Yes, ma'am. I understand. Just watchin' out for the boy." He flashed her a brief, nigh-cold smile, then turned on his heel and left without another word. The ship swayed slowly for a moment, the creaking of the Black Iris's frame filling the room like a poorly tuned violin. Dean turned to face Lucy, who grinned at him.
"You think I'm dangerous?" She teased him lightly. He couldn't help but smile, and his hand moved over to hers, his fingertips dancing gently on her knuckles.
"Terrifying." He agreed.
"Wow..." She purred, her other hand moving over to gently rest over his crotch. "I didn't realise I had that kind of impression on you, Deano."
"Ugh." He groaned, closing his eyes. "Dear God, you sound like your father. All that sexual tension is leaving..."
"Impossible! Although..." She grinned wickedly. "I'm betting that it might make a quicker recovery time after our sessions if we just called Crowley in afterwards..."
"Lucy, sweet fuck!" He groaned comically, causing her to laugh a little. But not much. After all, it was all supposed to be incognito, even if Bobby did already know. Her fingers laced into his, and the hand that was caressing his crotch moved to his other hand, which she guided over to her back.
"Alright, lover boy. Let's see if we can finish before we reach Port Eden." She decided, her eyes flashing with amusement. Dean chuckled slightly, and followed her over to their usual corner, secluded and hidden from the other men.
"I do love a challenge." He agreed, moving his head down so that he could shower her neck and shoulders with kisses on the way to their little haven.