Chapter 29
"I. CAN'T. DO. IT!"
"I know how frustrated you are Maggie, but-"
Maggie plopped down on a large tangle of weeds in a huff, her breath heavy and exasperated. "This is pointless."
Maggie had been out each and every morning since recovering in full from her date with death. After getting dragged back to the Nevertree; drunken, soggy, and bleeding, Tink and the Lost Boys all agreed that she'd have to wise up when it came to Hook. The man was nothing but trouble and could not be trusted. Tink was determined to get Maggie up to snuff when it came to fighting, and better yet, flying. She was anything but a damsel, but she knew Maggie was less than enthusiastic about being in Neverland. With tensions rising and Hook looking to sate his appetite for war, every precaution had to be taken, sooner rather than later. This was Tink's second chance to be at the side of a Pan, and who better to fill the role than a direct descendant? She'd do whatever needed to be done.
As the weeks rolled by, Maggie started to come around. One night when the Lost Boys got the itch to go out and ransack Pirate Town, Tink saw just how much Maggie enjoyed herself after having tagged along. Apparently the idea of shenanigans and childlike hijinks were lost on her at first. Though, it didn't take long for Maggie to latch onto the role of a rogue, having found it a perspective she could eagerly embrace.
Maggie soon spearheaded regular outings. It had been her idea to get in talks with Tigerlily and her tribe about strengthening alliances, preparing for imminent battle, and disarming Hook and his men as much as possible. The unsettling atmosphere coming from Pirate Town was felt throughout Neverland long before Maggie returned, but this new Robin Hood scheme had worked well for finally easing the worries of both groups.
While the agreeing nods and murmurs of a prepared counter blow swept over a good portion of the island, Maggie had a bit of a different context in mind. Frankly, she just liked stealing things. She was happy the idea had gone over as well as it did, but she didn't feel like full credit was due. Tinkerbell and Tigerlily had really fleshed out the details post Maggie's drunken rant the night the two sides gathered for a friendly feast. Of course, Maggie harbored a warm pride for having technically started the movement, but deep down swiping things just felt good. It gave her a rush. A sense of accomplishment.
It also had a great deal to do with her immeasurably resentful feelings about Hook leading her on. Then sitting back and watching her get fabulously plastered. and shot. She was having a hard time getting over that particular evening. She didn't like getting played. The crabs didn't make the memory any sweeter either.
So Maggie bided her time, trained with Tink, and grew in fervor thinking about anything and everything she could do to haunt Hook from her supposed watery grave. And so, the ever extensive thieving began. Of course, that had been her only run in with the notorious Captain. Afore many a missing trinkets, a surprise confrontation in the woods, and a humiliating visit at the hot spring, she had been nothing more to him than a ghost. With the cat out of the bag, Maggie had to start taking her education in warmongering a bit more seriously.
"It's not!" Tink's voice sounding somber, "You're his daughter. I know you can fly just like he did. On your own! Without the help of dust!" She floated over to Maggie and gently landed on her slumped shoulder. "You know, he went through this exact same thing." Maggie lifted her head and looked at the small fairy. "It wasn't easy for him, but he found his happy thought, and when he did-"
"-but I've thought of EVERYTHING, Tink. Everything. Nothing works. I have shit for happy thoughts. I'm a half assed adult with zero accomplishments. I don't have the kidnapped kids going for me. Am I supposed to blast off into the sky, my brain swirling with visions of awkward family gatherings and binge watching crime dramas all day? Anything good I had is too far gone."
"Keep trying!" Tink pleaded.
"Listen, if the memory of winning 10,000 tickets on Epic Tornado at the arcade a few years ago doesn't do it, nothing will."
"...Maggie!"
"2,000 watermelon chews, Tink. 2,000. They had to get out their back stock and open new boxes for me. I threw them on the carpet and rolled around in them. Nothing can top that. It's useless." Maggie tried a smile. She was exhausted. She genuinely searched day and night, jumping from ledge after ledge, each time with a new happy thought, and nothing- not even a hover. She was convinced Tink's 'by blood' theory was complete hogwash.
"Then we'll try again tomorrow." Tink said matter-of-factly, darting off towards the Nevertree. "Get something to eat! Go rest! You worked really hard today." She smiled warmly. Tink's patience had been incredible, which Maggie was greatly appreciative of, but felt awful that all this time spent would likely result in zero payoff. She really didn't want to disappoint Tinkerbell, but she was nothing like her father Peter. Especially not the young, brazen Lost Boy and hero of Neverland that he once was.
"Yessir, Mr. Miyagi." Maggie mumbled, feeling rather defeated. She had worked up an appetite though. She wrenched herself upwards, groaning in the process, and promptly dragged her feet after Tink.
"-and tomorrow we work more on your fencing!"
"My arms are still sore from last time!" Maggie groused in reply.
"Captain Hook doesn't care if you're sore!" Tink retorted.
"Captain Hook is a fuckin' dingleberry."
Hook sat quietly at his desk, turning his finger slightly. He stared down at his recently recovered ring, lost in thought.
"Cap'n?" Smee spoke.
Hook came to, a distant look on his face. "Hm?"
"Well, I was sayin' that the natives were spotted picking up another load of cargo from the Lost Boys at around dawn. Three men reported back with confirmations on the various loot. Worst part is, they saw them loadin' up weapons! Firearms, blades-"
"Has she really gotten away with THAT much?" Hook interrupted angrily.
"I'm afraid so. She had a lot of help before we enforced the guard stations. Technically theft is...down." Smee's voice sloped into quiet uncertainty.
"That damn woman is a phantom come the night! Either my men are as blind as mole-rats, or Maggie and her band of thieves have the ability to morph into the shadows! How is this even possible?"
"It's quite the scheme!"
"It's quite the embarrassment!" Hook corrected. He sighed heavily, feeling utterly foolish. "and I bet she's SO proud of her wild accomplishments." He grumbled.
"We'll catch her soon enough, Cap'n!" Said Smee with a hint of disbelief. "I'm sure of it!" He shifted his gaze, a gaping smile holding stiffly upon his stubbled face.
It had been several moons since the literal steamy encounter with Maggie. Upon hearing Smee's half-assedly enthusiastic claim, Hook remembered to keep that particular story to himself. Smee would wonder why he hadn't apprehended her then. Hook didn't have the answer. It was nothing more than impulsive. He knew the confrontation was far from frightening enough to make the girl stop, and by taking his ring back, he was certain it would only inspire further passive aggressive and bothersome ransacking. The thought irritated him immensely.
"Oh come now, Smee. You know she has more than outsmarted us. I don't care to admit it, but we underestimated her completely. She's much more than an addled and offensive twenty-something. She has managed to equip our enemies with anything and everything they could ever need. Things which could be used against us. Things I'm most certain WILL be used against us."
The war to end all wars. Perhaps that was finally becoming a reality.
It was feeling far too stuffy in the dim and velvety red cabin. Hook required a fresh Neverland breeze to wipe his mind clear of his frustrations with the Pick Pocketing Pan that constantly tormented him and his crew. It had gone on long enough, and frankly, he craved a moment's peace and the light of day was the only time to explore that need.
Hook's glossy black heels rattled down the boardwalk, the tuft of white feathers atop his hat billowing softly as he went. Pirates and town folk hollered loyally, throwing up hook shaped fingers, while others looked utterly frightened and backed into the shadows of nearby shanties hoping to go unnoticed. Hook was used to both the positive and negative reception. Those with a lack of remorse and the penchant to boot lick were always more than enthusiastic to greet him, but there were always those that wondered if today would be the day Hook was coming for them. Rumors gone awry, the unfortunate slip of the tongue at the pub- It was never properly broadcasted when their dandy Captain was having a bad day or had become privy to negative murmurs. One simply never knew who was going to get gutted or when.
As he rounded the corner of the market, Hook saw a group of his men ranting excitedly, walking in the same direction just ahead. Once Hook was in earshot, he picked up on what they were so delighted about.
"There is NO way the Captain doesn't have his hook on that one." One of the better chefs of the soup kitchen spat. "You saw her!"
"Oh I saw, drinks all around that damned place! She had every fool in town opening a tab! If she were his, she wouldn't need the likes of YOU, of all people, to buy her drinks!"
"Bit of a relief eh? Nice to have somethin' to look at! I always worried Hook'd snatch my good eye right outta me head when Drusilla would come boppin' around- looong ago! Back when he first swept her off the public market. He doesn't leave much for pickins, does he? Even his bo'sun has a claim on a handful of em'- the greedy bastards!"
"Wish those mermaids would sprout some legs and come walkin' out of the sea one day. Times be rough, my boys, times be rough."
"Aye!" They all agreed, laughing.
Hook's ears were more than perked, they were practically flapping away to catch every bit of the conversation. Who in the hell were they referring to? He knew each and every prostitute and woman folk from around the town, and he was damn sure he had thoroughly sorted through them. There was always the slim possibility one of the few Pirate Town wives, of which there were a great few, would become fed up and join the ranks of Drusilla's ladies or slither into a bar for some adulterous flirtations. From how these men salivated, Hook couldn't think of who it could be-
"Oy! Coulda swore I was wearin' me silver band! Gus, you see if I 'wuz wearin' it in the pub earlier?" One of the men said, fingers spread and held out before him.
"You're always losin' shit mate, you probably lost it wiping that fat arse of yours!" A somewhat friendly brawl broke out between them, but ended quickly when it almost collided with the silent Captain standing just behind them.
"S-Sir! Gud'evenin'!" The abashed hoodlums shuffled aside, allowing Hook to pass. "Scuse the scuffle, Cap'n!" The eye contact was minimal.
"Not to worry." Hook replied, nodding stiffly. "Carry on then." He swept by and continued down the path with burning purpose, straight towards the Drunken Wench, concealing his fresh and fuming rage. He now knew exactly who they spoke of. Ohh did he know.
The mystery woman leaned in and clamped her arms tight around her chest, creating quite the spectacle before the dusty gentlemen sitting along the bar. One dainty hand, nails glossy and black, rested on an very unkempt and eager pirate, while the other held an ornate lace fan that obscured her face slightly. Her lashes were intensely thick, lips as dark as pitch, with storm clouds riding her eyelids. Long, cyprus burnt umber curls poured around her shoulders. Atop her head sat a petite black with silver trim tricorn, adorned with matching lace ribbons and feathers that hung down and swayed playfully against her face as she laughed.
"I suppose one more drink wouldn't hurt." The raven like mistress spoke softly with a cut-glass accent.
"You name it, my goddess, you name it!" The current arm rest boomed. "Anything!"
"You're really too much!" She smiled coyly, moving her free hand down to his, which resided on his lap, just beneath the counter. The man was so delightfully distracted, he didn't feel his gold band slowly slip off his bony finger.
Throwing back the gin that had slid her way, the popular lady 'mmm'd' obnoxiously and promptly thanked the scrawny fellow for his kind contribution. She then turned to the man opposite her and lovingly settled her palm on his lower back, retracting her fingers playfully. "You men are all such fine company, I must say!" She ran her hand down his side as she pulled away, discreetly removing his dagger from it's sheath. She turned away, concealing the weapon in the folds of her dress. "-but I MUST be on my way now! I'm afraid if I stay any longer I'll...catch a case of the uhh- Vapors!" The lady uncharacteristically snorted, waving her fan in front of her face.
She parted from the crowd with a wink, dropping the knife into a concealed pocket located on the hip of her dress. The self cut gash in the fabric led down into a pouch with a pull tie. Inside the bag was the evening's haul and it tinked and clinked as she moved. The knife made it's own noise as it met with the rings and gold pieces below, to which the woman paired a conveniently timed sneeze. "My! Excuse me!" She giggled. She turned abruptly, ready to make her way out.
"You're excused." Came a deep unamused voice.
The young woman found herself face to face with Captain Hook, who had just entered the pub. She let out a surprised gasp. Her hand stiffened it's hold on the fan, almost pressing it flat against her face. She cleared her throat and spoke dubiously, "OH! M-myyyy...Captain!"
"It's an alarming pleasure to see you, my dear, but I'm afraid," he slowly moved forward, closing in, "your name has escaped me." He looked the distressed miss up and down, continuing his gradual progression towards her.
She moved back to keep any distance there had been before his sudden descent, but a wooden table just behind her disagreed. It replied with a heavy Brrrp as she bumped into it. Now pinned between the unwieldy table and an intimidating individual, the woman let out a amorous breath, a slight laugh muddled within. "I'm Evie..." She paused, eyes darting about Hook's waiting face, "Evie Stilleto. Like the knife. Not the shoe." She smiled mischievously.
"With a name like that, I'm ashamed to have forgotten." Hook replied, overacting his regret.
Evie bit the far side of her lip, which was mostly concealed behind the black lace of the fan, "I've been wanting to see you...quite badly in fact!" She straightened up and with a sudden presence of confidence and leaned into Hook, her face hovering mere inches from his concealed ear, "Nobody else can make a room stand so still, yet make my world spin so madly." She said softly. Again, her elegant hand took off. It traveled from the shoulder of his coat, past his lace cuffs, and down to his hand.
"My my, Miss Stiletto! What a way with words..." Hook rumbled.
Evie's hand grasped lightly at the top of Hook's hand, then continued, entangling her fingers with his in a flirtatious manner. She caressed the solid skull ring, sliding if off with a nimble twist, being sure to move her hips as she did. She let out another coquettish sigh, as her hand swiftly pulled back towards her, fist clenched. Hook gently pushed back in answer, pressing firmly against her. He turned and lowered his head- any lower and he would have been cradling her neck. Her warmth rose to his cheeks and her subtle perfumed scent pleasantly greeted his nose. He placed his naked hand on Evie's hip, pulling slightly. "Your disguise is very good." He spoke with a reticent and amused tone, his breath a hot torrent upon her skin.
Evie's eyes became wide and she stiffened, "ah-"
He continued, his hand now blocking her stashing pocket, forcing the thieve's fist to hover clumsily between them. "You covered all your bases. Changed your hair, your clothing, your makeup- a complete transformation," He smiled to himself, "even the accent was a charming touch." His hook made it's way down her back, "but you forgot something." He moved his hand away from her hip, "I'd recognize these anywhere." The back of his fingers moved softly across the top of Evie's cleavage. Her chest heaved upwards, meeting his hand with accidental enthusiasm, as she inhaled with surprise. She noticed quite clearly now just how firmly she was cemented between Hook and the table. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to look away from him but not getting far.
"-and I'll let you in on another little secret..." He paused momentarily, his hand now covering her tightened fist, "...Maggie." His hook peeked up from behind the lacy fan, then impaled it. In one rapid movement the accessory was out of her hand and in the air. It fluttered pathetically before meeting the floor with a sad clack. "Around here, when you're my woman, you're on par with the plague. Avoided at all costs. Do you wonder why?"
Maggie exhaled with a defeated grunt, preparing for his lecture.
"-because these men are smart enough to want to keep their innards intact."
Maggie remained unspeaking, noticing that the entire pub was watching silently from all around them.
Hook pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Look now, see? They're waiting to see if I stake my claim." His hook made it's way under Maggie's chin, tilting her head upwards slightly. With that, Hook moved in boldly and without hesitation. It wasn't a light and soft kiss, it was as firm and direct as she was pinned. Far from sloppy, it seemed calculated and perfectly on target, his head tilted just right to accommodate his large nose to rest beside hers. In fact, it was such an unambiguous and precise kiss that it required no adjustments. Maggie's lips were pressed comfortably against his, locked in an ideal embrace.
Hook's hand gently prodded it's way into her clenched hand. Maggie's fingers were easily swayed to part, and he was able to pull his ring out with little to no resistance. He swiftly slid the skull back to it's rightful place with a few flicks of his digits. This took place in a mere matter of seconds, and just as the initial kiss was threatening to part, he began again with a deep and vigorous exhale, taking her lower lip fiercely and regaining his hold. She clearly accepted as a faint moan made it's way out of her. Her fan-less hand had come to rest on his shoulder, and clamped down as the new kiss took over.
Hook moved like he had memorized every step beforehand. He snatched up Maggie's leg, forcing her to lean back. He pinned her ankle up by his hip, and proceeded to hold it steady under his arm. His hand moving freely, it dove into her dress without a sound. Another whine fought it's way out of the girl. She felt his palm ride up her bare thigh, but it came to a stop beneath the pouch she kept hidden there.
Again, with lightning fast reflexes, Hook tore the pouch from her waist with a hearty tug, dropped her leg, and finished the flawless kiss in a manner of which was profoundly impressive. He took a long step back and threw the bag onto a nearby table- it's contents exploding in a shiny splendor before the heartbroken crowd.
No words were needed. Hook knew that Maggie, or rather, Evie Stiletto, understood. He knew the men occupying the Drunken Wench understood as well. She belonged to him and her pick pocketing days as the gothic seductress had very well come to an end, whether she liked it or not. Hook then walked himself out of the pub, looking all too proud of himself.
Maggie was left leaning weakly on the table. Her breaths were deep and fast, sending her chest into another fit of heaves. She could feel the burning flush of her face. Her hands and legs trembled numbly. The kiss lingered, demanding it not soon be forgotten.
"Holy shit..."
-aaaand here you will witness Maggie's extensive vocabulary when dealing with those pesky sexual frustrations! Good work Hook- you've rendered her a one-liner spouting madwoman.
Anyway, HEY GUYS! So yeaap, it's been a few billion years since the last update- but I've got a full time career that has been more or less sucking up every waking hour of my life (get money get paaaaid)- so sadly, the story has had to endure the threat of cobwebs once more. I have been getting a lot of sad (and somewhat angry?) messages in regards to this- and I DO apologize, but oddly enough, the grocery store doesn't accept Hook smut as monetary compensation. Thanks Obama.
The days are far too short, my friends! I wish I had more time to dedicate to writing this, truly! It's a lot of fun when I'm not half asleep and forget how to WORDS. Ha! All in all, the sorrowful and sometimes negative reception in regards to the lack of updates tells me you're enjoying the read and just want more? Right? RIGHT? Yea! I'll take this as good news! (but really, enthusiastic and steadfast readers- however you have communicated to me your want for more of this story, BLESS YA!)
Before I leave you- I would like to reiterate the Tumblr fan page! I just uploaded a ton of fanart from many a loyal reader, as well as some commissioned pieces! So if you want to see some HookxMaggie illustrations, then head on over! I have a mighty need to draw the oh-so-mysterious 'Evie Stiletto'. I'll have to make that happen sooner rather than later!
The blog is called hookxmaggie
Hope to see some of you there :')
Until next time!
