Child's Play- Tug Of War

~Arthur Kirkland~

It wasn't the first time I'd kissed a woman. It wasn't even remotely close to it. And it wasn't the best kiss I'd ever shared either. But it was distinguishable different. And the instant murmurs and sounds of a recently miffed and drunk group of extremely competitive men, having all been challenged by the advance I'd made on the beautiful Amelia. My hand rested comfortably above her hip.
"Can I have a kiss too, Bella~?"
She didn't respond. In actuality, she seemed quite paralyzed. Otherwise, I'm sure she would have struck me.
"Finally bein' seen an' not heard, aye? I stunned her into silence, I did."
"My turn, then!" Matthias took her hand but I kept her securely out of his grasp. "Nay, it doesn't bes."
Feliciano pecked her cheek, taking her hand, but made a small squeal at the deathly expression forming on my features.
"Back. Off."
"Ye gots ta share!"
"Nay! She's mine!"
Then a small fist collided with the side of my head. "YOU BASTARD!"
She must've rejoined the realm of consciousness.
"Oi! You wasn't fightin' it then!"
"I... I was surprised!"
"Aye! Pleasin'ly so!"
Before I could much react, she was swept into Jack's embrace, his arm around her waist and his hand holding hers as if they were going to dance. He went to kiss her, and prepared to abolish the possibility, (if it meant cutting off his lips, so be it), my defense was interrupted. A hand took Amelia's with a tender hold, though causing severe pain to Jack's hand. Iain placed her hand on his shoulder and pulled my Amelia closer, whispering in her ear. "Fancy seein' ye 'gain, lassie."
"Oi! Iain! Fuck off!"
"Hol' yer clack, wi' yes?"
I could see the frustration and rage growing subtly in her features as they argued, till it exploded into mechanical energy as she jabbed an elbow into my brothers gut, twisting his arm and brought his upper body to the wooden floor, unknowingly bringing herself into a position in which my crew could, and happily would, render her defenseless.
"Yer causin' quite a fuss, aye?" I pulled her up from her crouch to look her in the eye with a dark, warning glare. "Ye'll's be stayin' in me cabin, savvy?"
"Savvy."
"And ye lot. Despatch an' ge' abou' yer several duties. Handsomely!"
I draped an arm around her, bringing her tight alongside me, and led her to my cabin, securely locking it behind us. "Ye'll be's more careful, aye?"
"Don't tell me what to do." She scowled malcontentedly, and the anger under the surface, caused by the friction of some misguided rage and the sting of betrayal burst into a powerful growl.
"Don't. Be's tellin' me nay, ye fuckin' li'l shrew!"
"What the hell are you yelling at me for?! I didn't do anything wrong!"
"Nothing wrong?"
"No! Nothing! It's like your blaming me for holding the rest of the men's' attention!"
"Ye were drinkin' with 'Em!"
"Because I was thirsty! You don't have any damn water on the entirety of this fucking shitty little ship!"

~Amelia Jones~

Instantly, a lethal blackness resided within his searing glare. His grip on my wrist grew excruciating, and in a series of steps and movements and a harsh shove, I was delivered into an empty, decrypt, and fairly moldy smelling room. The door shut out any light there once had been. "...Arthur? Arthur! Hey! Let me out of here! YOU ASSHOLE!"
There was no response, leaving me to curse "under my breath", though at a deliberate volume. I didn't want my discontent going unnoticed. I could hear Arthur speaking to someone. And the person conversing in turn in a slightly terrified Italian accent.
"B-b-but~ Capitano~~ I doa not a... Knowa better! Da kissing on da cheek... It... Isa... Tradition in da Italia, ci~?"
"Aye. But that cheek isn't yers ta be kissin'."
"But Amelia cananot kiss a her own a cheek!"
"It bes not hers eithe', Feliciano. It be's mine."
"Aye, Capitano~"
"IS NOT! MY CHEEK IS MY OWN YOU FILTHY-" His boot collided loudly with the floor above me.
"OI! HIST!"
"I DONT THINK I WILL!"
"Capitano~ Dat is not how to controla women~"
I couldn't help but think what Feliciano knew about controlling women, but their voices dropped, leaving their conversation to my imagination. I figured it was something to do with women, and rum, or something of that sort.
After Feliciano, Arthur spoke with Jack and Matthias.
"Ye lot. Ye should know yer place by now, aye?" The soft scuff of his boot on the floor painted the image of him crossing an ankle over the other, resting upon his desk, one hand on its surface, the other around a bottle, wetting his lips after speaking. "So, explain ta me why yer bein's so demmed stupid."
"We ain't seen a woman since... What was it, Jack?"
"Somewhere farther in Europe, aye?"
"Aye!"
"Ye skipped Hong Kong and California."
"Hong Kong don't count! And Amelia is California." Matthias argued, lenient.
"She's me California. And it be's best fer ye if ye mind it."
They huffed softly and left, followed by a sigh of exasperation. "Arses."
"You're one to talk."
"Good night, Amelia."
"What? You're not gonna leave me down here, are you?"
"It's not like yer bes alone. Ye've the rats fer company."
"I hate you."
"Ye hate that you love me."

~Arthur Kirkland~

When I was sure of her sleeping state, I opened the hatch, making my way below to find her curled into a small rumpled mass of dress. "Sleepy, aye?" With a small noise of indignation, I knelt, scooping her up in my arms and carrying her out of the room, laying her down in my bed. It was strange, having a woman in my bed without sleeping with her. A gorgeous virgin, no less. I thought back to the last time I'd slept with a woman without doing anything, including sleep. I had been young, and me and my mother and brothers were on the streets. Being the youngest, my mother had held me close to her when she slept, to keep me from freezing in the frigid English nights.
I quickly shook the thought from my mind, resting my hat on my desk next to my coat and shirt, my boots on the floor. I took a final swig of my rum before throwing the bottle on my coat. Slipping into place beside Amelia, I could smell the sweet taste of her breath, and I let my knuckles brush the gentle curve of her cheekbones. I'm not sure how long I must've stayed there, having some irrevocable need to memorize each facet of her physiognomy, though the time seemed indefinite, ending softly as my hand drifted to her hip and my mind into the greedy clutches of sleep.