Thanks to all who reviewed. I had like, no time to write this chapter for the past week, but at last I had like, a whole hour to myself, so voila! Also, I feel I should point out that I actually have no clue what exact timeframe Sinbad's story takes place in, so I totally random-ass guess throughout this story. Enjoy that.

Chapter Four

Dimitri stood unmoving—not that he could really move if he wanted to. Two rough and ugly looking men flanked him, each twisting an arm behind his back as the man who had found him, presumably the ship's captain, stood in front of the rest of a crew that was watching in amusement.

"Well well well," the captain drawled, stone still where he eyed Dimitri. "How about this, men? It looks like Chimera's got herself a stowaway."

A few grumbles and chuckles went through the small crowd. A particularly mean looking fellow eyed Dimitri as he sharpened a long knife from his perch on the ship's rail. The dog barked with oblivious enthusiasm. Dimitri thought it best not to try and speak unless it was expected of him. These didn't look like your average bunch of sailors, wherever…whenever…he happened to be.

The captain still stood with his arms crossed as he glared with agitation at Dimitri. "What are you doing on my ship?"

Dimitri paused for a long moment. "It uh…was an accident." He winced as the men around him laughed deviously.

"That's a new one." The captain noted as he cocked his head. "So I guess you just 'accidentally' walked your way onboard and neglected to realize when we set sail?"

"I…not…exactly, no."

"Hn." He grunted, still sizing up his intruder. "I didn't think so."

Dimitri wriggled slightly in discomfort. "Look, I didn't mean to end up on your ship or anyone else's. This is all a misund—"

"Stuff it." The captain thrust a finger into his face, his demeanor turning sour quickly. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are that I didn't just toss you overboard when I found you?"

Dimitri blinked, eyes moving through the crew and landing briefly on a large man with dark skin who was watching from a distance with a troubled expression. He looked back up to his interrogator and furrowed his brow in aggravation. He just couldn't help himself. Defiance was such an integral part of his being. "How does that make me lucky? What do you think I was trying to do before you and your goons tackled me?"

The rest of the crew seemed momentarily perplexed, glancing at one another. The captain opened his mouth, but then suddenly seemed not to know how to respond, so he straightened up resentfully. "Well it's too late now. I guess we'll just have to find something else to do with you."

"Something else?" Dimitri watched as the captain paced away, shooting his subordinates a look.

"Let's skin him!" suggested the knife wielding man, raising his weapon.

A scrawny graybeard pointed a boney hand at him. "Alright, but I call dibs on them fancy clothes he's got."

A black haired man leaned towards another, both sharing similar features, and muttered, "I'll bet you Sinbad keelhauls him."

"No way," the other replied. "The mood Sinbad's been in lately he'll just slit his throat."

Dimitri swallowed and sank back.

Sinbad, apparently, narrowed his eyes. "Believe me, friend, you picked the wrong crew to try and swindle." He bent down and eyed Dimitri severely. "You know, honesty really is a prized commodity these days. I know we just met, but it really doesn't bode well for you when the first words out of your mouth are a lie. So I'll ask you again. How did you end up on my ship?"

"I was just…" Dimitri paused, blinking back a suddenly uprooted memory of waking up on a ruined palace's floor, head aching, no one left for him in the world. "I was just trying to get…home."

"And where's home?"

How pitifully simple a question not to be able to answer. "…I was returning to Paris."

Another blank look. "Never heard of it."

"Of course you haven't," he uttered under his breath.

The captain stared at him for a while before snorting irritably and shooting the two crew members who were holding him a look. They released their grip on him and he nearly fell forward in surprise, rubbing his wrists as he looked back at them. "Oh yeah? Enlighten me." The captain replied. "Where is this 'Paris'?"

"I-I don't…I can't explain it to you. You've never been there—er, maybe you have, but—" Dimitri swiped a hand through the air in dismissal.

"What's that?" a crewman muttered next to him, squinting as the light from a reflective surface hit his face. All eyes turned to follow the first man's, settling on Dimitri's arm.

"What?" Dimitri glanced down, lifting his arm. "My watch?"

A man suddenly came out of nowhere and landed at Dimitri's side—a rawboned, tan skinned fellow who looked more accustomed to swinging in trees than standing upright. He snatched Dimitri's arm and examined the foreign piece of technology for himself. "What does it watch?" he inquired with awe.

"Nothing, wh—hey, stop that," he jerked his arm away only to have it snatched back by another crewman, as they were beginning to crowd closer. Sinbad attempted to interject, but was closed out as the two dark haired men, brothers perhaps, shoved him aside as they joined into the curious muttering.

"Never seen anything like this before."

"Look at that, it moves. How is he doing that?"

"What is it for?" the rope slinging acrobat demanded.

Dimitri stared numbly at his confiscated arm. "It tells time."

Sinbad huffed incredulously, crossing his arms. "Now that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Don't they have the sun where you come from?" Much to his indignation, he was ignored.

"How does it know what time it is?" one of the brothers asked, pushing his sibling's face out of the way with a hand.

"Ask it, make it tell us." The other chimed in.

"He's a sorcerer!" cried the old man.

"He is not a sorcerer, he's just a—" Sinbad cried in exasperation, thrusting a depreciative gesture at Dimitri, "—no good hitchhiker with a flashy wristband!" At this address the crew backed away with apologetic subservience. Sinbad shook his head, grumbling under his breath some incoherent words of exasperation. "Well regardless of your fashion sense, you're stuck with us now, pretty boy. Whether or not you make it out alive depends on how long you can manage to be useful."

Dimitri looked around suspiciously. "Useful?"

Sinbad turned. "You ever been on a ship before?"

"Not…one like this."

"So you've never sailed."

"No."

"Ever navigated?"

"…No."

"How many knots can you tie?"

Dimitri looked down at his shoes and blinked. "Two."

"Ever fished?"

By this point Dimitri was too nervous to answer. He didn't think telling them he was really good at lying and stealing would win him any leniency.

Sinbad snorted, sizing Dimitri up with disdain. "What did you do before you wound up here?"

Dimitri stepped back and looked away as he tried to come up with a feasible explanation. He'd almost never had an honest job in his life. Though he had a feeling that the same could probably be said for some of the characters he caught glaring at him like they wanted to wear his skin as a petticoat. "Uh…well…When I was twelve I worked as a kitchen boy for a royal palace…"

"Kitchen boy, huh?" Sinbad turned a look on him that was something between mischievous and malicious, and Dimitri was positive that he wasn't going to like the thought that caused it. "Did you hear that, men?" he spoke up loudly, looking around at the faces of his fellowmen before focusing back on Dimitri's. "It looks like we've got ourselves a cook."

A rowdy cheer went throughout the crew at this assertion. Dimitri just stared. So much for a life of Parisian luxury spent sipping champagne on a yacht all day. To hell with that—he'd take desolate, icy St. Petersburg back after this.

Sinbad leaned in closer. "Now I'm being pretty generous here, so you might wanna—"

"This is ridiculous!" Dimitri suddenly sputtered, and the captain jumped back despite himself. "I-I-I fall asleep in a tourist trap and the next thing I know I'm a wanted fugitive a-and a prisoner on a ship full of mangy Greek pirates?"

"Hey!" A voice snipped from the crowd. "We're not all Greeks."

"This isn't happening. I mean it can't be. What year is this? How did I…how did I…?" he wavered and the men behind him backed away in preparation for him to faint. He quickly got a hold of himself, however. "Crazy. I must be crazy, that's all. I'd have to be to chase an orphan halfway across Europe, blow up trains with dynamite, kidnap old ladies, punch dead wizards in the face or try escargot. Maybe I'm really in a nice padded cell somewhere..."

Sinbad and the rest of the crew stared back at him for a moment before the captain waved a hand. "Just…take him below. I've heard enough."

The two closest crewmen obeyed, although as they seized a stiff and unresponsive Dimitri they did so with wary hesitation. Sinbad turned away and marched off towards his personal cabin, pretending not to notice that he was being followed as he retreated.

Kale, the ship's first mate, cautiously walked behind him, disapproval heavy in his tone before he even spoke. "Sinbad," he tested.

"Not now, Kale," he bit in return.

"But—"

"I said not now, okay? Sheesh, you'd think the 'Captain' title would give a little more finality to my decisions."

Kale ignored him and closed in. "Sinbad, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that it's been a long day and we've got a lot of sailing ahead of us. So if you don't mind—" He continued on despite Kale's protest at that, "—I'm going to take a cat nap while I have a chance."

Kale folded his arms and gave a disparaging look. "You know what I'm talking about. We were practically still within spitting distance of Piraeus when we found him. Why didn't you just throw him overboard and be done with it?"

Sinbad ground his teeth. "And let him get away with it?"

"He hasn't technically done anything wrong."

"That's a matter of opinion."

Kale watched with disbelief as Sinbad turned away once more. "So what, then? Now we're taking prisoners? Slaves?"

"If that's what it takes."

"If that's what what takes?"

He whipped back around, thrusting out a finger irritably. "You know something, Kale; I don't think people take me very seriously around here anymore. It's high time they learned that they can't do whatever they want—at least not on my ship. Do you think I got us this far by handing out hugs and kisses? No; I got us to a life of luxury by being a dirty, no good, bloodthirsty pirate!" He pulled back, still glaring. "So I don't wanna hear you give me grief over this useless trespasser—who I could have just as easily killed by the way. You all might think anything flies now, but by Zeus when I'm done with this guy you'll reconsider."

Kale gaped slightly for a moment before snapping out of it and shaking his head. "I don't know what you're talking about. If anything everyone takes you doubly serious these days, especially your crew. But this is going too far, you can't take it out on this man just because Marina—"

"This conversation is over, Kale," Sinbad said sternly as he turned back away to find his bed. His tone brooked no argument and Kale knew him better than to pursue him at that, so he simply stood, sighing in frustration and looking with unease towards the spot where Dimitri had last stood.