Title: Pirate Law

Rating: T For Violence, Language, Adult Themes, and Eventual Romance.

Author: QuikkSilver


Rose was no stranger to hard work. She had grown up running an inn with her mother, after all, and managing the Benbow Inn was no easy task. It entailed a lot of mopping, washing, waitressing, and plenty of people-relations work. But here, on the Legacy, under the sharp eye of Silver, the work was backbreaking. Most of the work was pure drudgery – scrubbing pots and pans, scraping old paint off the mast, swabbing the decks, and other such things. But there were one or two special torments which had to be done, and unfortunately Jim was shackled to the worst one; scraping astrobarnacles off the hull. The position was precarious, straddling a swing and wielding a rusty crowbar, but you had to trust the gravitational pull on the ship, because the work required two hands to pry off the barnacles. Rose shuddered – Jim didn't share her fears, but she was terrified of heights. She pushed a curl of dark hair out of her eyes again and set her jaw, marshaling her aching shoulder to scrub more dried splatter off the decks. Since Jim was stuck with the bone-liquidizing chore of barnacle scraping, she had been instructed to scrub the entire deck by herself. It was hard enough with two people, but all alone, the work seemed to take eons. Her shoulders and back were numb and painfully sensitive to the cool breeze from the Etheirum, but she kept washing. With any luck, she would be given an easy task next, like washing the pans in the kitchen.

She could feel Amelia's eyes on her as she worked. There always seemed to be someone watching her, be it the captain, Delbert, or her younger brother. There were different feelings accompanying their gazes; she could feel Amelia's cool, crisp glances sliding over her skin like a fresh zephyr, and Delbert's awkward stares like a woolen scarf. Jim's eyes always felt settled and familiar, and so recognizable that Rose didn't have to glance up to see who was watching her. They all seemed set to keep an eye on her, and part of her felt babied and annoyed; she wasn't a child, she was a grown woman capable of fending for herself. But at the same time, she was grateful; the very real prospect of being attacked onboard had occurred to her more than once, and it always sent a new icy touch down her spine.

For some reason, Silver seemed to be avoiding her. Jim had confided in her last night and reported that the captain had ordered him to keep an eye one her. "And he didn't seem too happy about it, either," Jim had said ruefully. But she hardly saw the big man during the day – she only saw him while he was cooking, or at night when it was his turn for the watch. He never spoke to her, never made eye contact, and whenever she was around him, he was gruff and brusque. It was a fairly happy arrangement in her opinion, however. His machinery was still foreign and frightening to her, and she tried not to stare at it when she saw him. He seemed to sense this, and perhaps that was the reason she avoided her.

Rose sighed and got to her knees, kneading the flesh on her shoulders and neck. She was nearly done, but every bone and muscle in her body was begging for release, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out as she resumed her duties. With an exhausted, incoherent noise in her throat, she tossed the dredges of soapy water onto the floors and began washing with her scrubbing brush, the stiff gray bristles scraping across the sleek, honey-brown floors. Her hair was pinned up in a knot at the base of her neck, but it was falling out and curtaining her eyes with an annoying little fringe of chestnut. She wiped her hair out of her eyes with a soapy hand, unconsciously smearing a streak of water across her round cheek and dampening her chin. Grumbling to herself, she nuzzled her shoulder to remove the liquid.

Silver watched her out of the corner of his eyes, trying to look focused on the young boy below him. His young charge, Jim, was furiously scraping off the barnacles on the hull with his clumsy tool. Inwardly, Silver felt a little pang of remorse. He didn't tell the lad that it was a job generally reserved for the biggest and brawniest of the crew, not a youthful boy who hadn't even begun to shave yet. But he turned away from the taut-shouldered, scowling youth and flicked another gaze towards his older, quieter sister. Now, that was a little workhorse, there. She had been scrubbing the deck all day, and not a word out of her, not a peep. She had paused several times during her work and jostled blood into her shoulders and back, but other than that she worked steadily all day. And it wasn't just today – she was methodical and decisive with her chores, getting them done simply and uncreatively. Jimbo, on the other hand, was a loose cannon; if he thought there was an easier way to do it, he would rig it up without a second thought. Once he even tried to teach Morph how to wash dishes, but only managed to get two plates broken.

Not for the first time, he noticed her tendency to tuck her hair out of her eyes while she worked. It was an insignificant, habitable gesture which did nothing to tame the little curls around her chocolate eyes, and for some reason it fascinated him. Perhaps it was the way her wrist turned just so, exposing her innocent inner wrist, or perhaps it was that momentary pout that tugged at her bottom lip when she fixed her hair. He looked away from her suddenly, realizing where his thoughts were going. They would be pulling into port tomorrow, he reminded himself. Irisosa, located in the Kerriyan Abyss, was their next stop; he promised himself he would go straight out and find him a girl for the night. Unlike the rest of the crew, he knew when to keep his desires in check and when to expel them.

She got to her feet, snapping the joints in her shoulders with a pained grimace. That was enough, the deck was done, and she was out of soapy water. She wrung out her rag and slapped her scrubbing brush briskly against her palm to get rid of any clinging remnants of water, then dumped both tools into the bucket. She tossed them haphazardly into the small tool shed located near the stairs, then dipped her head to enter the galley. The coolness of the shadowed galley hit her, cutting off the glaring light from the deck, and she rubbed her eyes, blinking the stars from her vision. She walked right into something and let out a little squeak, looking up into the piercing, bloodshot eyes of Scroop. "Oh! Sorry," She said, backing up.

He moved like a cobra – one moment she was at the foot of the stairs, the next moment she was up against the wall, both hands pinned to the side of her head. "I would keep my eyessss open from now on, missssy," Scroop hissed, very close to her. Her mind was still reeling from the suddenness of his action, and she turned her head to the side, shutting her eyes tightly. "I would ssstay out of my way, little girl," Scroop snarled, his ridged, sharp claws digging into her wrists. A hot tear blurred her eyes and she choked on her own fear rising in her throat. "Becaussse, when I see you again..." Scroop warned, and his fangs scraped against her jaw, two daggers sketching against her cheek.

He released her, and she fell to the floor, landing with a crash, unable to keep any feeling in her legs as a hot flush of shame and fear sweep her body. Scroop scuttled outside, his long legs stamping on the stairs as he left. Her whole body was frayed, nervous, jittery. Her knee jiggled and tears spilled out of her eyes, dripping off her chin, the unwanted dampness glittering on her face. Fear lodged in her throat, and she swallowed back a sob of terror. The slight feeling of security she had been given when she saw Amelia watching her was stripped away, and she felt raw, naked. All over again, she felt his hands on her – Luke's rough, clumsy hands patting her harshly, his fist connecting with her eye, that bright, coppery tang of blood in her mouth.

She heard him far before she saw him – a steady, regular whirring, humming noise that contradicted his irregular, limping gait. And then she smelled him – a low, primal whiff of something undeniably musky and masculine. However, she didn't put two and two together until she heard his deep, rumbling voice speak. "An' what do yeh t'ink yer doin', layin' about on t'ah floor?" He growled, staring down at her. She shot to her feet, wiping her eyes hurriedly, not daring to look him in the eye. She heard Luke's syrupy voice slide over her again, the quiet, smiling threats made to her while their parents chatted not five feet away.

"Nothing," She said, her voice weak and quivery. "I'm sorry, I needed to get out of the sun."

She wasn't stupid. She knew she needed protection. Not for the first time, she looked up at him, scanning his wide girth and broad chest, his sloping shoulders and blunt features. But at the same time, she couldn't tell him anything. She needed to see Amelia. "I need to see the Captain," She mumbled. "I'll be right back."

He watched her go, her small feet hammering up the steps of the galley, her footsteps uneven and frantic. His eyes narrowed, and he folded his arms across his chest. She was hiding something, something fresh and uncertain. He followed her up out of the galley and his cybernetic eye glinted as he saw the door to the Captain's Quarter's slam shut. He looked around, and his eye fell on Scroop, who was wearing an undeniably smug expression. Slowly, his jaw locked as his mind made the connections, and he bulled his way over to Scroop.


Her voice tumbled over itself as she spilled out the entire story, her words rapid and almost unintelligible. Amelia said nothing during the entire short narrative, merely looked at her closely and kept her lips pressed together firmly. Rose took comfort in the crisp, clean lines of Amelia's uniform, the neatly pressed blue coat and highly buffed boots. Rose buried her face in her hands and sat down in Amelia's chair. "I'm sorry," She said finally, after a moment of silence. "I'm just...I don't have a great – well, relationship with men. I don't..." She looked helplessly at Amelia. "I mean...I'm explaining this badly. I was in this relationship, earlier, with a boy, and it...ended badly."

"Miss Hawkins, this is irrelevant," the Captain said quietly. Her green eyes were bright and alert, and her long, sharp nails tapped on the polished desk. "I'm sorry, Miss Hawkins, but I have no choice but to assign you a guard." She said softly. "Yes, I'm afraid there isn't any other option. Mr. Arrow would suit the role, I believe."

"Um..." Rose said. "Thank you, Ma'am. But I don't think that's necessary. I mean, I'll be fine, I'll just stay nearer to my brother and –"

"I do not mean any insult to your younger brother, but he is a fifteen year old boy," the Captain said tartly. "No, I really think Mr. Arrow would be best. Or..." And then her eyes took on a whole new light, a glossy sheen that sparkled. "Miss Rose, I believe I have someone better than Mr. Arrow." She said, and pressed a button on her desk.

In the galley, a red light beeped twice, and Silver turned. His discussion with Scroop had left the Spiden bruised and angry, and the last thing he needed was an audience with the snooty captain. Swearing under his breath, he snatched his hat from the table and limped up the galley stairs, taking them two at a time. Shouldering his way through the crowd, he barged into the Captain's Quarters, trying to appear willing and able to serve the Captain's any needs. He exhaled slightly when he saw the small shape of Rose sitting nervously on Amelia's chair. Of course the girl would run and squeal to the Captain. "Aye, Captain?" He said, trying to seem as though he had no idea what was going on. Amelia circled the desk slowly as she steepeled her long fingers.

"Mr. Silver, you are aware the dangers of a woman aboard a ship in space, correct?" Amelia said. Silver shrugged. There wasn't any point denying it.

"Aye, Captain," He said, looking at Rose. She was still sniffling quietly, and a premonition began to sneak up on him. A single instance like this wouldn't have upset her this much; no, she had previous experience with this. His mind shot to her father, and he gritted his teeth.

"Then you won't have any trouble giving Miss Hawkins your undivided guardianship and protection," Amelia said reasonably. Silver jerked.

"Captain, I got me own t'ings tah deal wit'!" He sputtered. "I already got me one cabin boy I don't need, an' it's hard enough tryin' tah find him chores tah do!"

"Mister Silver, there is no need to dispute this," the Captain said tightly. "You will guard Miss Rose, and if you notice, I didn't mention giving her any chores. Of course, if you have a need for her to assist you in cooking, or whatnot, I'm sure Miss Rose would be happy to oblige." Amelia looked at Rose, and the girl nodded once, uncertainly. Silver closed his eyes briefly, and counted to ten.

"Aye, Captain."


She caught up with him after they had left, and her small hand found his elbow, somehow, giving him a brief touch. "Uh, Mr. Silver?" She said softly. He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a bother, but..." He looked at her, those dark chocolate eyes filled with a deep uncertainty. "I'm frightened," She admitted, and looked straight at him. "I'm frightened, but I can manage it. I don't want you going out of your way to 'keep me safe', as it were."

"It doesn't look like we don't 'ave much o' a choice," Silver said tightly. "An' yeh can be damn certain I don't need yer help with me cookin'! You'll be doin' the same chores as yeh have been." Silver snapped. Rose backed away, hurt, and he saw it in the drop in her shoulders. She went down the stairs to the lower deck, avoiding the crew members like the plague.

Amelia watched Silver rub the back of his neck, and she growled to herself, the fur on the back of her neck rising in spite of herself. He was planning something, there was no doubt about that – she hoped that placing Rose in the presence of this man would either bring out his true nature or Rose would bring back some information about him. She had acted remarkably quickly, and Amelia planned to take disciplinary actions towards Scroop, but right now she needed to see how to two reacted. When she saw the two of them clash, she sighed and buried her face in her hands. Rose was small and weak, but she had a quick eye for detail and Amelia had no doubt that Rose would pick up on Silver's nature. But Amelia saw the little glances Silver kept flicking towards her, and she knew this situation could get messy very quickly.

Because, even if Miss Hawkins didn't realize it, Silver was, deep down, beginning to fall for her.

Slightly.


A/N: Enjoy. I'm exhausted. Merry Christmas to all. .