A series of cat calls and whistles greeted Wendy as Hook yanked her off the ladder and onto the deck beside him. A filthy crew of about a dozen men gathered around and ogled at Wendy, each elbowing each other and whispering amongst themselves.

Wendy shivered under their stares, but surprisingly not from fear. Wendy knew she should be frightened. Really, being the only woman on a ship of pirates was not exactly the highest caliber of security. All she could feel was a deep sense of disgust, with a twinge of curiosity. Abandoning all sense of propriety her mother had worked so hard to muzzle her with, Wendy stared openly at the men around her.

They were a motley bunch. Each wore articles of clothing from what Wendy guessed to be their various pillages: a tall man with a hawkish nose wore the vest of a nobleman with the breeches of a peasant. Another short, fat man had a powdered white wig draped over his doughy face and red nose. Wendy noted that with the exception of the short fat one, all were skinny and gaunt, their shirts hanging lankly on bony frames.

"Cap'n," the short one shouted, although he was but 3 feet away from Wendy's captor. "Ye found 'er eh!" He analyzed Wendy with his beady eyes, then quickly turned back to the captain. "Didna take yer long enough… when we made tha' port we tho't itda only be visin' for a for'nigh, not until tha' moon shone blue."

The Captain gripped Wendy's arm tightly, his eyes narrowing into a glare. "There were considerably more nurseries in London than I expected," he muttered.

Turning to the rest of the crew, the Captain took Wendy's hand in his own and raised them in the air. "Men!" he shouted. The crew went silent in anticipation. "I've brought us a prize! The rare Wendy-bird!"

The men cheered. "A lady on board!" one shouted joyously.

"Yes," the Captain lowered Wendy's hand and went gripped her wrist. "And what use can we put her too?" he asked the men, eyes glimmering.

The crew leered at Wendy. Some scrubbed their hands together, others made gestures that Wendy didn't understand, but she was sure they were rude. For the first time, a tingle of fear raced down her spine, and Wendy was suddenly extremely aware that she was only dressed in a nightshirt and dressing gown.

The Captain watched as Wendy fidgeted and shrunk away from the men's' hungry stares. "Right," he smirked at the girl, amused at the way she flinched. Her bravery so far was impressive, however foolish. "You'll be servicing the crew on this trip, Darling."

Wendy's eyes grew wide. "If you think—"

"No arguments," he shushed her. He flicked a side glance towards his men, then continued, "You'll be doing ALL of the cooking on this voyage, and that's final!"

The crew bellowed in laughter and Wendy let out a breath of relief she didn't know she had been holding. The Captain laughed and dragged Wendy away from the deck, down a set of stairs and through a heavy door. Wendy blinked in the darkness, trying to see where he had taken her.

"The Bridejust so happens to have the finest kitchen to sail through the English skyline," the Captain freed his grip on Wendy's wrist and took off his hat in a flourish, releasing a swoop of chin length wavy black hair to frame his face.

Wendy surveyed the dark room. It had the necessities—wash bucket, hearth, pots and pans, knives and utensils— but not much more. A tiny table and stool were tucked in the corner of the room beside as squat door that Wendy guessed led to the pantry. She marched to the door, swung it open and saw that it would be a pantry if there was any real food in. As it was, 3 jars of pickles and 4 bottles of rum were the only commodities present. "Extravagant." Wendy stated blandly, rubbing the wrist that he had gripped so tightly. "No wonder your men look so well fed."

"Manners," he chided. "We'll restock soon. Although I wouldn't mind seeing what you magic you could work with these." He grabbed a jar of pickles and a bottle of rum, put his hat back on his head and sauntered to the doorway. "Get ready to earn your keep, Darling," he tossed over his shoulder with a wink, and then he slammed the door shut.

Wendy stood in her prison, stunned. Rushing back to the door, she tried to yank it open only to find it was locked. She pressed her ear to the rough wood and heard muffled voices on the other side.

"New berth, Cap'n?" a man shouted.

"Yes," came the refined voice. "Take us home, boys."