warnings: no warnings, it's non-violent and there are no naked people having sex together, but... there might be in the future! (At least I hope so.)


Chapter 2: and

After listening for a while to a couple of lovesick pirates chatting animatedly about this Heero person, my friends and I began to consider the new situation and our chances of still getting the now-buried gold of Mr. Sawdown. We sat down at a secluded table in a dimly lit corner of the room and ordered a round of drinks. Trowa leaned back in his chair thinking silently for some time while we busied ourselves with sampling the local fare - whatever else Jack had lied about in his stories, the rum really was first-rate and strong enough to set something on fire. After a while, Trowa rapped his knuckles on the table-top to get our attention. As I've mentioned before, he was an infamous pirate leader, pursued by a whole fleet of mercenaries hired by European businessmen who were determined to put an end to his raids in the Atlantic. I sometimes wondered how Trowa had managed to become the head of a band of pirates. He didn't seem to have any of the character traits you'd expect to find in a pirate, like ruthlessness or cruetly, except maybe his missing eye— that at least managed to scare someone. Yet he was the only one of us who spoke English, French and Portuguese and, due to his shrewd and thoughtful nature (and healthy attitude towards games of chance), still owned a seaworthy ship. But back to our story – Trowa leaning forward in his chair and beginning to speak.

"Quatre, Wufei (yes, he was ignoring me), it seems that we'll be staying on this island a little longer than we'd originally planned. Apparently, we weren't given all the necessary information..." He pointed at me as he said that, but quickly resumed ignoring me. "None of us can afford to just leave here empty-handed so I'm afraid we'll have to look for the gold even if it might take some time." For a moment I was the recipient of their collective frown. "I therefore propose that we try to find a job somewhere around the town, maybe even here in Sawdown's house, to observe people more closely and keep an eye on the inn. There might be something like a map that could lead us to the buried treasure or someone who knows about it and can be convinced to talk."

Quatre sighed and nodded gravely. "That seems to be the best course of action, all things considered. We might as well stay here for the stormy season." He looked questioningly across the table at Wufei. I pouted, hating to be ignored and frowned at, even more so as this was originally my great adventure.

„Any further suggestions?"

"Can we get rid of Duo?"

"No. Any other further suggestions?"

"Why not," Wufei demanded. He was less silent but far more annoying than Trowa, and strictly speaking he was not even a real pirate, but had only gotten into the business in pursuit of a higher aim—exacting revenge for the pillage of his home town, a fishing village at the coast of the Yellow Sea. At the moment, however, he decided to bring up a part of my life I really wasn't fond of discussing but rather determined to ignore up to my dying breath.

"He's bad luck. He's cursed!" Which – of course – I was not.

"I am not cursed," I told him. "I was foretold!" Pronouncing the last word with due gravity.

"Oh, that's the same!"

"No, it isn't!" On the ship, we had arguments like this on a regular basis and somewhere on our journey across the Atlantic I had come to regret ever telling him anything about myself let alone the fateful prophecy dating back to the time when I was seventeen that I tend to hold responsible for most of the things that have happened to me ever since. But I have a very friendly disposition and I love talking. Considering that I on principle never tell a lie I can see that this poses problems to a person aspiring to be a somewhat successful thief and pirate. But I'm sure Wufei will tell you that in a second.

"What's with his...," he hushed his voice in shame. "His inability to lie... And he's such a blabbermouth, a cursed blabbermouth!"

"Foretold," I repeated. For obvious reasons I strongly preferred being foretold to being cursed.

"Oh, well. Why don't we resolve the matter by vote," Quatre suggested with a sunny smile, shamelessly using his deceptively innocent charm that had been the downfall of innumerable women (and men) to get his way.

"Is Duo still part of this endeavour or not?"

After a few moments of consideration, Trowa nodded slowly while Wufei kept shaking his head and the issue was settled.


After that had been settled we decided not to waste any more time and put our plan into action. Slowly we made our way over to the counter at the far side of the room where Sawdown and his son seemed to be immersed in conversation, a rather aggressive and one-sided conversation. Sawdown's face had turned an even deeper shade of red and was distored in anger while the boy he was yelling at wore a perfect mask of utter indifference. On seeing the three of us approaching, however, the argument quickly died down and both father and son stared at us with strange apprehension— and maybe a little bit of suppressed frustration on part of the older man.

Leaning casually against the counter I had already opened my mouth and was just about to speak when Mr. Sawdown rudely beat me to it.

"If you're suitors, you're just wasting your time!"

I managed to stammer out a startled "What?" before the man grabbed the neck of my shirt and drew me very close to his red and sweaty face, scrutinizing me with an intense look while forcefully turning my face this way and that to read my expression (or some other highly interesting thing I had on my face and didn't know about).

"You look like suitors...," he observed slowly and thoughtfully, his left eye squinted in suspicion, and spat the tobacco he had been chewing right passed my face and on the floor. I could see his left hand slowly reaching for the 2-foot long machete he wore on his belt. It was not a pleasant situation, yet it turned out to be just the right thing to loosen my tongue.

"M-mister Sawdown! We are no suitors-" I assured him in what I hoped was an honest tone. "- of whoever... We're just looking for work, Sir!"

Silence—then, after a small eternity of staring into my face, Sawdown seemed to reconsider.

"Oh," he said, put me back on the ground and straightened my collar. "That's a first."

All of a sudden, a broad smile broke out on his face and he clapped me enthusiastically on the shoulder.

"I really thought you were after him like the rest of them."

My friends and I looked puzzled.

"Who's he, Sir?" I asked.

"Well, my son, of course!"

Sawdown pointed to the slight figure beside him. As if on cue, we looked at the boy in the shadow of his larger frame and inevitably a dreamy expression crept into our eyes.

"I don't know why they're all after him like a starving man after a puddle of muddy water. He's skinny!" Sawdown grumbled testily.

Slender, my mind corrected.

"Short."

Petite.

"Horribly clothed."

Oh, he really doesn't need clothes anyway.

"He's got a sooty face, grimy nails and he smells!"

Well, nobody's perfect...

"Anyway... You're looking for work, you said." Sawdown changed the subject with surprising quickness and looked us up and down, Quatre in particular, his eyes lingering longer than strictly necessary until Trowa interrupted his scrutiny with an impatient "Well?" (1)

"I have only use for one of you," he said gruffly. The boy beside him pulled at his sleeve and standing on tiptoe leaned towards him to whisper something into his ear.

"Well, scratch that," Sawdown said. "Two of you. You're lucky. It just so happens that my distiller has passed away... this afternoon. Home-made rum is a little dangerous, it easily gets too strong. If you want the job you better know a thing or two about distilling, or it might be your last job... well, and then... (he licked his lips) I could need a little help in the bar. Of course, I won't take your one-eyed friend or the guy with the scowl. Don't want to scare away my valued costumers." He paused and we all took a long look at the room full of horribly crippled pirates and drunkards. "But I could use the blonde," he added finally, now leering outright. "As for the rest of you, Doc J needs a second man on his fishing boat, he's a little... odd ... talks rubbish and stuff... but he'll surely give you the job... um... as no one else seems to be interested."

After insulting both Trowa and Wufei, Quatre and I weren't able to persuade them to take the offered job in the distillery, both adamantly opposed to indulging Sawdown. That left the job to none other than myself and considering that I didn't have the slightest idea of how to make rum I wasn't really that ecstatic about it. Fearing for my life or at least my eyesight, I was about to politely decline the offer when Mr. Sawdown motioned to his son to approach me.

"Show him the distillery, son."

The boy with the chocolate brown hair raised his head and looked at me. He nodded slowly.

"Follow me," he said, his voice low and pleasant, only adding to his beauty, but it also kindled a desire to hear him speak more often.

And all of a sudden, I couldn't bring myself to resent the idea of ending up seriously maimed or even dead. Before I knew it, I had followed him through the backdoor and out into the rainy night.

The boy was carrying a small lantern which he had picked up in the doorway, its light reflecting dimly off the wet coppled streets as we walked in silence. We crossed the market square, turning left towards the docks, and only a little while later my guide stopped in front of a tiny wooden shed next to the quay. Apparently that was the famous distillery.

I tried to initiate my first conversation with him while he was fumbling with his keys to open the door. "My name is Duo Maxwell," I said. "I've sailed the seven seas and then some, but I've never seen anything quite as lovely as you. Believe me, sweetling, I run and hide but I never tell a lie. Would you... um... like to see my tattoos?" But to my utter shock and infinite amazement I was to discover that he ignored me.

The second time I tried to speak with him was a few minutes after that while he showed me the tubes, pipes, flasks and rubber sealing rings used for the distillation and explained how to use them... and he ignored me again.

It took me a week to get him to tell me his name (he was the famous Heero) and to respond a little even if it was only to shut me up. Later on he got into the habit of snorting and got it down to a fine art and eventually he thought up a nickname to call me when I tried to lure him into conversations, which was "baka."

By that time I had realized that he was not only beautiful but also endearing with his snorts and one-syllable-phrases and that I had gone and almost fallen in love with him.

But that was – like I said – after he had stopped ignoring me. Up until that day I spent hour after hour in the little distillery and learned how to distil Mr. Sawdown's famous sugar-cane rum and was happy enough that I seemed to survive it.


(1) That's the first hint of 3+4. But it won't stay just a hint, so watch out!

A couple of days ago I went to watch "Pirates of the Caribbean" with my friend and when I came home at around midnight I decided to pull myself together and write the third chapter of this fic. I don't like the first part of this chapter very much, the second part is much funnier. Also, I think that my Duo is getting dumber by the minute and I don't know why since I use the same dictionary, oh well, it must be me... anyway, I hope you don't mind. Finally, I would like to thank the 6 reviewers. [CinC (the very first), NightHawk6, Sefarina Malaika, yaoi angel, dreamer and Nehc-p] Thank you very much :D