The light in the distant window had long since faded from view, but Ben's eyes remained fixed on the horizon as they sailed into the night. The silence was getting uncomfortable, and Tabitha slowly and unsteadily rose to her feet, clutching the mast for support as she cleared her throat. Ben glanced back at her, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Miss Adams," Tabitha said with a mock flourish and a bow, before descending into peals of laughter. Ben's face flushed an almost comical shade of red as Caleb joined in, bumping the rudder slightly and forcing Tabitha to either sit or take an untimely plunge.

"Shut up, both of you," Ben muttered.

"Yes, Captain!" she replied in a cheery falsetto, matching Charlotte's intonations with an almost uncomfortable accuracy. Caleb was making a concerned effort to stifle his laughter, but wasn't doing a very good job of it. Tabitha's giggles ended in a shriek, however, as a large handful of icy water caught her in the face. After a moment of shocked spluttering, she finally regained control of her voice. "That was immature!"

Ben scoffed. "Because you're the essence of maturity," he said, tossing her a blanket nonetheless, which she accepted a bit too eagerly. The wool was rough against her face as she wrung a few locks of sodden black hair in the cloth, but it was warm, and she left the blanket draped over her head like a mantilla as a breeze ghosted over the water.

"You're making a mistake," she said finally, gaze landing somewhere by her leg as she loosened her hair with her fingertips. "With Miss Adams, I mean. Getting her involved."

Ben's frown had deepened at the mention of Charlotte, but Caleb was already speaking by the time he'd opened his mouth. "Perhaps we made a mistake gettin' you involved," the boatman retorted, and Tabitha snorted.

"Yes, because you gave me so many opportunities to reconsider," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "She's not suitable for this sort of... undertaking. It would be best to leave her to her finery. I promise you, a woman such as she has no business being brought into these affairs."

"And yet, here you are," Caleb replied.

"And yet, here I am," she agreed. "Can you honestly see no difference between myself and Charlotte Adams?"

Caleb made a sound in the back of his throat that, to Tabitha, came across as a toss-up between amusement and exasperation. "Goin' beyond looks, for starters," he began, "Yeah, I do. An' I'll tell you right now, Charlotte's a whole lot more useful that you've been."

"She's done nothing but propose an information drop signal!" Tabitha shot back. "Planning drops, writing letters, avoiding meets? Mr. Woodhull may think he's protecting her, but she is just as guilty as he is, and just as likely to swing for it. I know it, and so do the two of you." She paused for breath, and glanced at each man in turn. "What do you think she'll do when she arrives at the same conclusion? You think she'll stick around? Like you said, Lieutenant, Miss Adams is no fool. When the reality of her situation truly sinks in, do you think she'll wait around for the Redcoats to find her? She will run. She will go back to Virginia, and she would be wise to do so."

"You don't know her," Caleb said.

"An' neither d'you!" Tabitha's breath clouded in front of her as she continued, growing louder with every word. "How long since ye've seen 'er last? And before tha'? Have ya e'er set foot'n Virginia, Lieutenant?"

By this point, Ben had had more than his fill of the two lieutenants' bickering. "That's enough from the both of you," he snapped. "I think it's safe to assume that none of us have the pleasure of knowing Miss Adams as well as we would like. Now, bearing that in mind, perhaps it would be prudent for us to withhold judgment until we have a clearer idea of her true character."

Tabitha's mouth hung open as she rounded on Ben, who simply gave her what she had come to call The Look; head cocked to the side, face tilted slightly downwards, one eyebrow raised, and eyes locked unblinkingly with hers. "What the fuck did ya bring me along fer, then?" she exclaimed. "Ya asked me t' tell ya if I saw a 'glaring flaw' in Miss Adams. An' here I am, tellin' ya she's not suited fer this sort of work. Why ask if ye're just gonna disregard what I have ta say?"

"I had assumed she would be a different sort of woman," Ben replied. "Had I known she would be as open and forthcoming as—"

"Don' patronize me, Tallmadge!" Tabitha slammed her hand against the mast. "Ya took one look inta those pretty brown eyes, and ya ne'er once looked away. She smiles an' curtseys and calls ya 'Captain'! Don' try an' tell me she's open an' forthcoming. Unlike you, I was watchin', an' there isnothin' open or simple abou' that woman. An if ya hadn' been so smitten, ye'd've noticed."

Whether Ben was at a loss for words or simply choosing not to reply, Tabitha wasn't sure. But as she sank back down into the bottom of the boat, Caleb said bluntly, "You're biased."

She tugged the blanket from her head. Her dark hair was a mess beyond fixing for the time being, but at least it was dry. "How so?" she muttered, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders instead.

"Well, if you're jealous of another woman getting Benny's attention, jumpin' to conclusions about her isn' the way to go. Just my opinion..." He trailed off with a shrug.

"Is that really what this is about?" Tabitha asked incredulously. "You think I still harbor feelings for him?" She jerked her head in Ben's direction, and he found himself suddenly and inexplicably fascinated by a small stick floating on the surface of the water.

"Not quite," Caleb replied. "Your brother dies, and ya just happen to show up in our regiment to be close to the only man who can help ya keep your family's land." Ben glanced up briefly from the floating stick, then his eyes flickered back, back stiff. "Bit convenient, wouldn't ya say?"

"I don't require his help to keep my farm." Tabitha's voice was much lighter than even she had expected, and for a moment, she felt like laughing. "The deed is in Aaron's name, and I walk in his shoes. It would be a simple matter to sign the deed to myself, or to Father Michael for safeguarding. So long as I remain unmarried, the property is mine. And should that be contested for any reason, the farm would instead be incorporated into the church, where Father Michael would allow me to live out my days." Her eyes locked with Caleb's. "Alone, and in peace."

"Alright," Caleb said after a pause. "Then what're you doin' here? Sign the farm over to yourself and be done with it."

"I still need money, Lieutenant," Tabitha replied, eyes locking once again on the moon as she felt a wave of queasiness pass over her. "Besides, it's like Tallmadge says: A war is where I belong."

"Couldn't agree with him more."

Ben continued to stare out across the water, and Tabitha knew he was no longer listening. She was no navigator, but she was fairly certain the distant shoreline his eyes had locked on was where the last flicker of candlelight from Miss Adams' window had vanished into the night. The faintest streaks of pink were beginning to show on the eastern horizon, and with a sigh of defeat, she pulled the blanket higher around her shoulders and pulled her knees to her chest. If she was lucky, she could maybe squeeze in an hour or two of sleep. If she was luckier, she would wake up still in the boat, and not in the water.