Beta- StacyO72 – lascivious is one of her favorite words. That and lave, but we're

not ready for that type of L word just yet.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

From Sea Fever by John Masefield

A/N One thing that confuses me in Twifics is that Jasper usually has a Texas accent yet Emmett doesn't ever a Tennessee accent. Stuff like this makes the OCD part of me nuts. According to canon, he is from Gatlinburg. I had quite a few friends from East Tennessee when I was in college and they all had thick accents that sounded so melodic compared to my harsh New England voice. We used to joke that when we first met, as part of a study abroad program, they couldn't understand me at all. I was the only Yankee in a group of Dixie chicks. By the time I came home I had a twang I picked up from them. So, in this story, Emmett has an East Tennessee/ North Carolina accent and Jasper has a Texas accent.

I fiddled around with the story banner, the first one was thrown together really quick just to have something to go with the story. Version 2.0 is much better.

In case anyone was curious, I posted links to pictures of Block Island on my profile.

There is also a link for Emmett's Dirty Dick's t-shirt. Dirty Dick's is real. I went last year when we vacationed in OBX. . I don't have a shirt, I have a cup, it came with my margarita.

Lastly, as I type this, the Boston Marathon tragedy lies heavily on my mind. I live slightly over an hour south of that city. For me. as with many other New Englanders, Boston is inextricably tied to my life: I've worked there, I've got friends and family there, I've spent many happy days and nights in the city. Currently, one suspect is dead and there is a massive manhunt for the other. My prayers and thoughts are with the families and victims of the Marathon bombings and the officers who have died in the line of duty.

Ch 4. Sea Gypsies

I stared up at Emmett McCarty like I had never met another human being before this moment. He had to be the most well-built fisherman I had ever seen. The muscles on his arms bulged as he leaned forward and pressed his hands on my desk. What did he do, bench press the swords and tuna? My eyes automatically shot down to where his hands spread out and I immediately counted off ten fingers in my head. Commercial fishing wasn't just the most dangerous profession in America because of mortality rates. Almost everyone who had worked in it for a while had been marked. For some, it was scars, like the one Charlie had on his thumb from where he'd almost severed it. Others were not so lucky and actually lost body parts- usually fingers, sometimes ears, or even an eye. I looked up to see him flash a grin full of shiny white teeth. He looked to be a few years older than me, maybe mid-twenties. He had dark curly hair, cut short, twinkling mischievous eyes and deep dimples on each side of his face. He wasn't quite in the same category as Doc, but damn, he was still pretty hot.

He pointed at the check in front of me and asked in a flat country drawl "Is that for me?"

Before I could respond, the door opened again and a tall wiry guy dressed in a faded t-shirt and oilers walked towards us with determined steps. He looked more like what I expected. He wasn't unattractive. He had blond shaggy hair, blue eyes and a lean yet muscular frame. However, he had a long scar that stretched from just below his jaw to his clavicle. Tattoos covered his neck and arms and I had no doubt there were several more that I couldn't see. He stopped next to Emmett and I could see that the two middle fingers of his left hand were missing their tips. That was more like it.

He tilted his head slightly as we made eye contact. "Afternoon, miss. I was just curious as to what kind of advance we'd be getting."

His accent was deep, deep South. It was slow and warm and poured over me like a shot of Southern Comfort. I wouldn't be surprised if he was from the Gulf since quite a few of those guys had moved to other types of fishing after the BP oil disaster. He flashed his own grin and holy hell, he was actually really cute, scar or no scar. Who were these guys? I wondered if Doc was filming another reality series. No one had this many good-looking guys on one boat.

Before I could sort my thoughts and answer, Emmett McCarty spoke up. "Jasper, you're such a fucking doubting Thomas. It's right the fuck here, just like I said: one thousand each for you, me, and Richie. If it's gonna be such a big fucking problem all the time then I suggest you get yourself your own fucking ID so you can cash your own damn check." Emmett reached over and held up the fax to Jasper's face. "Now that you've verified that I wasn't fucking with you, I further suggest you get your skinny ass back down to the boat and finish packing out. Did you leave Richie in the hold by himself? You know that FNG can barely tell the difference between a big-eye and a yellowfin: fucking greener than the fucking grass after a spring rainstorm. I have no fucking clue what Doc was thinking hiring him."

Despite being a few inches shorter, Jasper got right in Emmett's face as he retorted with venom in his voice. "Emmett, you are such a fucking jackass. You know that fucker at Volterra changed the advance amount the last two times we were at port. I just wanted to see if he'd gone and done it again. The fucking greenie is just fine. Doc's got his eye on him and I'm going right back there. Besides, all the tuna except the albies are already out of the hold. As for my fucking advance, I didn't realize it was such a big fucking deal for you to go to the fucking bank. I'm sure Doc would be interested to know that his First Mate doesn't feel like doing his fucking job!"

I sighed. Yeah, they might have prettier faces and prettier accents, but underneath it all they were no different from every other fucking deckhand I had ever known.

"Oh, sorry miss, I didn't mean to cuss like that in front of lady." Jasper misunderstood what I was sighing about. It wasn't the swearing. It was the pecking at each other like old hens that drove me nuts. I swear there were days I felt more like a den mother than a bookkeeper.

"It's Bella." I replied. "Really, it's fine."

I knew my smile didn't reach my eyes. I could see Jess and Mrs. Newton watching the exchange with curiosity. Most of the time deckhands just barked at each other, but we all knew it was possible for an altercation to become physical. I wanted these two out of my office A.S.A.P. I turned back to the bigger guy.

"Look, Emmett, the bank closes in fifteen minutes. It's only right around the corner but I really don't have the time to re-do the check. We don't carry that much cash on hand so if you don't go now, none of you, including Doc, will have any money tonight."

That did the trick. There's nothing worse for a crewman than being in port for the first time in weeks and having to spend the night living like a monk. The Block was a party town in the summer, and they would want to take full advantage of the many hotels, bars, and girls available. I gave Emmett directions to First Colonial Trust and they both got the hell out.

"So Bella, what are the chances the other guy is just as hot?" I heard Jess ask me from across the room.

I laughed. "You tell me. You're the one with the binoculars."

"I can't tell. He's been in the hold the whole time."

"Is Doc on another show? Those two were too good-looking to be fishermen." Mrs. Newton echoed my own thoughts from a few moments before.

"Maybe it's some sort of dating show?" Jess suggested. "You know, where Doc gives them advice since he's older."

I snorted back a laugh. "Yeah right, like Doc Cullen is some sort of foster-father/matchmaker? I don't think so. Besides, they definitely act like deckhands. I was ready to reach for my pepper spray."

Charlie always made sure I had a can in my purse even though there hadn't been a violent crime on the island since the early nineties.

Mr. Newton came in the office, having sorted through the majority of the tuna, and he shooed Jess and Mrs. Newton out so he could call his customers. Mike's dad was one of the most respected and experienced tuna graders in the Northeast. He examined each fish the boat caught, checking them for color and fat content to determine where we should sell them. The best tuna would be served as sushi in restaurants all along the Northeast. At one time, Newton's actually exported fish to Japan and Mike's dad would travel to see his customers in Toyko's famous Tsukiji market at least once a year. He rarely bothered anymore since sushi was now so popular in U.S. We could make the same net profit on a fish sent to New York as we could spending the money to air freight it half way around the world.

I finished up my work and got ready to leave right at 4:30. The Vampress crew didn't return to the office, which was fine with me. I said goodbye to Mr. Newton and headed outside to where I had parked my bicycle. I kept a rusted old pick-up at home that I used for trips to the mainland for groceries and other necessities. I rarely drove on the island, there was just no point. I pulled up to the house in less than five minutes and was pleased to see my dad was already there. Our cottage was just the right size for two people. A good-sized kitchen and living room encompassed most of the first floor, in addition to another room that had once been a formal dining room but was now a den. The second floor had two bedrooms and the sole bathroom. It was cozy, if a bit cluttered.

"Hey Bells, I culled some bugs if you want to cook them." Charlie called out as I walked inside. He knew I didn't have a lot of time and the lobsters would cook quickly. Thursdays and Fridays were hellishly long. I worked a full day at the fish plant, then waitressed at The Black Wolf from six 'til closing. The lobsters he took home were both missing a claw, so wholesalers weren't interested in buying them. Lobsters were basically aggressive cannibalistic assholes who fought each other constantly so it wasn't uncommon to trap one that had battle scars. I suppose they weren't that much different from deckhands. I had grown up eating culled lobsters, or bugs as pretty much everyone I knew referred to them. I never felt bad about cooking them since, as Charlie always pointed out, if I were at the bottom of the ocean, they wouldn't hesitate to eat me. Still, at one point during junior high, I had gotten so sick of cooking lobster twice a week that I had refused to eat them anymore. Eventually, I came around because, hell, it's lobster.

Dinner was quick and simple: lobster and salad. Charlie and I exchanged all the gossip we had both heard about the new boat in port. I left out the part about the confrontation at my desk, winnowing the story down to a very concise "They're typical deckhands." I took a quick shower to get the fish smell off me and changed into the black t-shirt and black jeans that all the Wolf employees wore. A quick peck on the cheek for Dad and I was back on my bike and at the bar by six.

Billy Black owned the Black Wolf. It was a pretty nice place for what was essentially a fisherman's pub: dark wood antique bar and paneling, spacious booths along the walls, and even a small dance floor and stage beyond the tables. The place had been around as long as the fishing port itself. Billy had bought it with the money from his insurance settlement and had transformed it from the town dive to a respectable bar and grill. Unlike some places that attracted a strictly local crowd, and others that catered to mostly tourists, the Wolf was a mix of both. I walked in and waved hi to Jake, who was already behind bar and Jess, her parents, and the Newtons, who were having dinner in one of the booths. I headed to the kitchen and got ready for the busy Thursday night crowd.

"I hear you had a pretty exciting day. The Doc Cullen and some pretty hot Dixie dicks in port?"

I smiled and looked over to see my best friend, Alice, arching one perfectly threaded eyebrow below her spiky black hair.

"'Dicks' is the key word there, Ally." I laughed. "Did Jess mention I already had to put up with them squabbling over advances."

Alice smirked. "Actually, it was Mrs. Newton who dished all the dirt. What's this about Doc Cullen flirting with you?"

I rolled my eyes but filled her in on the highlights before heading over my section. My greatest strength as a waitress was my ability to memorize orders. I never wrote anything down and hadn't made an error since my first summer on the job four years ago. My greatest weakness was that I'm a klutz with a habit of walking into door frames and tripping over my own feet. I tried to always be as graceful as possible when serving customers. I needed every dollar I could possible make and spilling food on customers wasn't the way to earn big tips.

The dinner crowd segued into the party crowd as the night wore on. Sometime after ten I saw Doc and his crew make their way over to one of the tables in the center of the room. I sighed with relief. They were sitting in Alice's section. I always felt a bit awkward when I had to wait on crews who packed out with Newton's. The regulars weren't a problem. They had known me and my dad all our lives, but the drifters were a different story. Some of them tended to see me differently just because I had served them a few beers. It wasn't so much a sexual thing as a sexist thing. I could handle being hit on. There's no way I could have worked in a bar this long otherwise. It was that somehow, my being a waitress diminished my authority in their eyes. That chauvinistic attitude brought out the bitch in me.

Almost as soon as Doc sat down, a group of fishermen called him over to the bar. Doc had already been a well-known and well-respected captain in New England before the reality show and was apparently friendly with some of the guys. With him gone, it was Jasper, Emmett and the greenhorn at the table. The new guy had his back to me so all I could see was dark hair over a set of broad shoulders. I was curious if he really would be as good-looking as his crewmates but I couldn't get a clear look at him. Thursdays was karaoke night so the place was packed with patrons drinking enough to summon up the courage to sing 'Don't Stop Believin'' or 'Livin' On a Prayer' to a room full of semi-strangers. About an hour later, I found myself covering for Alice while she took a quick bathroom break. I looked over at the Vampress crew's table. Carlisle was still up at the bar and a couple of the Russian workers from one of the hotels had joined the three deckhands. The bigger hotels used foreign students as seasonal employees so we had gotten used to hearing Russian and Irish accents around the island. I saw Emmett glance around for Alice.

I sighed and walked over to the table, making sure I faced the third deckhand when I stopped. As I greeted Emmett, I finally got my first eyeful. Half of me was convinced he'd be a troll while the other was hoping he'd be just as handsome as his co-workers. I was wrong on both counts. My eyes swept over his features in disbelief. The ceiling light just above him highlighted the red in his otherwise brown hair, giving it a soft bronze glow. It was thick and slight overgrown, like he should have gotten a haircut last week but hadn't gotten around to it. Soft full lips sat below a slightly crooked yet otherwise perfect nose. Long thick lashes framed jade green eyes. Chiseled cheek bones compelled my eyes south to a jawline that would make Michelangelo weep for joy, leading to a perfectly shaped masculine chin that begged to be licked. He was quite possibly the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He was seated between the two Russian girls, both blond and voluptuous and everything I wasn't, yet he looked utterly miserable. The three of them continued to ignore me while Emmett and Jasper made small talk before each asking for another beer. I shifted on my feet, suddenly aware of certain parts of me that had not gotten any attention in some time.

I cleared my throat. "Uh, Richie? Do you and the girls want another as well?"

Emmett and Jasper fell into a fit of laughter as the beautiful one fixed me with a vitriolic stare. Did I get his name wrong? I was sure they had called him Richie when they were arguing in my office. I began to stammer out an apology when Emmett interrupted me, laughing so hard he was practically wheezing.

"That's Ted. We …. call… him… Richie…because…."

He couldn't finish so Ted himself spoke up, his voice low and velvety despite being edged with animosity.

"They call me Richie Cunningham because I'm from Milwaukee and I've got sort of reddish hair." He continued to glare angrily at both Jasper and Emmett, who didn't seem to notice or care about his reaction.

"And…. 'cuz he's a greenie too, total virgin just like Richie Cunningham." Jasper leaned against Emmett's arm, gasping for breath between laughs.

"Wirgin?" One of the Russian girls spoke up, looking at Ted like he was something to eat. "You vant I take care of zat?" She asked in heavy accent as she leaned over to rub her hand over his shirt, her fingers spreading out so one lingered just below his Adam's apple.

The other blonde leaned in from her own side and stage whispered. "Tanya, he might have problem. Vhy else such a handsome man not have the sex?" She fingered his chin, turning it towards her, while giving him a sympathetic look. "I know good doctor in Ukraine, he fix problem."

I covered my mouth by holding my tray sideways as I tried not to laugh out loud. Still, my shoulders were shaking, I couldn't help it. Emmett and Jasper lost what little control they had. The slumped against each other, both literally crying from laughing so hard. I don't think I'd ever used the word "guffaw" in my life, but it was the only word I could think of to describe the two deckhands' loud, robust sounds.

Ted turned about ten shades of red as he shook the two girls off him. He ran his hand through his thick hair in an act of frustration as he huffed "That's not the kind of virgin they mean! I don't have a… I mean I'm not… … I just…I need to go." He stood up, his eyes dark as he shot us all daggers from them, grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the table and literally stalked out of the bar.

"Poor Richie…" Emmett gasped out as he wiped his eyes with his beefy hands.

The two Russians continued to look confused. "Wirgin mean no sex, yes?" One looked at me for an answer.

"No, not always; it also means someone has never done something before. In this case, he's never been fishing." I explained as I regained my composure.

"An FNG!" Jasper yelled, setting off Emmett again. The girls again looked at me.

"Fucking New Guy." I said without hesitation. I knew the expression deckhands up and down the coast used: The FNG better not be NFG. The fucking new guy better not be no fucking good. Crew members really weren't concerned about double negatives.

"A greenie that can't handle fishing usually won't last more than one or two trips." Emmett finally calmed down enough to talk. He put his arm around the shoulder of the blond closest to him. "C'mere Irina, you don't need to worry about any virgins or fix any problems tonight, baby."

I took that as my cue to get their drinks. The last thing I needed was to hear Emmett brag about his sexual prowess. Fortunately, Alice finished her break so she took their drinks over from the bar. I didn't need to go back there for the rest of the night. About thirty minutes before closing I saw my dad, in uniform, walk in with one of his deputies. I couldn't help but smile. Charlie wasn't due on his shift until dawn, but he just couldn't resist making sure everyone knew the island wasn't some lawless Old West style outpost. I swear sometimes the mustache went to his head and he thought he could channel Sam Elliot. Doc was still up at the bar, holding court with just about every fishermen on the island. They all sat there enthralled as stories were traded and yes, each one was more hyperbolic and embellished than the last. I watched Charlie introduce himself to Doc, the two sizing each other up as they shook hands. Doc must have noticed the scar on Charlie's thumb. Charlie glanced down, running his left index finger over it. I'm sure he was recalling the story I had heard a thousand times. A few years before I was born, he'd been a deckhand scallop fishing thirty miles south of Nantucket in the Lightship area. He wasn't green to fishing, but he was new to scalloping and made what some would call a "freshman mistake". I moved towards the bar and just as he made the familiar swiping gesture with his thumb.

"The shell had a limpet right at the top and I didn't even think about what I was doing as I passed my thumb over to remove it. I felt the pain before I saw the blood. It was such a clean cut, it took a few seconds for me to realize what happened. I tried to bend my thumb and realized I had no control of it. I touched it with my other hand and that's when I realized it was almost completely detached. Old Tom Wheeler was the mate, did you know him?"

Charlie looks over at Doc who nods. "I met him once or twice, quite a character."

Charlie nods back . "Yep. He saved my thumb, maybe even my life that day. I was only nineteen, first time that far from home, and I was bleeding everywhere. You'd think I'd be screaming but I just stood there in shock, staring at my hand. Tom filled a scallop bag with ice and helped me get my hand in it while the captain radioed the Coast Guard. There was a cutter nearby that came and brought me to Nantucket. I was damn lucky the surgeon at the hospital there knew what he was doing." Charlie wiggled his thumb to emphasize his point. "Got full range of motion."

Charlie's story didn't end there but I knew he wouldn't repeat the rest of it. He hadn't in years. The next morning, he had walked into a local café for breakfast and met Renee Higginbotham, my mom. She was between her freshman and sophomore years as an art major at Amherst College and had decided to go backpacking around New England with some of her friends, all of them young and carefree. Cupid's arrow struck hard and within days Renee had left Nantucket and her friends for Block Island and Charlie. She spent the rest of the summer there, completely enchanted by the funky, artsy little shops and laid back day tripper lifestyle that dominated the island's culture in those warm months. By September, she had dropped out of Amherst, much to the consternation of my Grandma Marie in Newton, and set up house with Charlie in a little cottage not far from the ferry dock. Once his thumb healed, Charlie fished year round on the local draggers, sometimes spending as much as two weeks at sea, returning for a few days before heading back out. The money was good then and he wanted to save up enough to buy his own boat as well as the cottage they were renting. My mom has since told me she wouldn't have stayed past that first long, desolate winter if she hadn't gotten pregnant. I know that sounds like a horrible thing to tell your child, but I don't blame her for leaving anymore. The island's split personality isn't for everyone, certainly not an energetic extrovert like my mom. She tried, spending the lonely cold season creating tourist friendly art to sell in the summers. She toughed it out for almost a decade before finally telling dad she'd had enough and was heading back to the mainland for good. I stayed. I'd visit her on school vacations in whatever warm climate she had moved to: California, Arizona, and now Florida.

Charlie's story was enough to bond him and Doc. Everyone else was eager to show their own scars and tell their own tales of near death accidents and dismemberments. I walked by just after serving the drinks for last call and heard my dad call my name. I knew he wanted to make sure Doc was aware that I was his daughter so the crew wouldn't give me any trouble. It wasn't necessary, I could handle myself but I indulged his overprotective tendencies.

"Doc, I think you met my daughter Bella earlier today?"

Doc smiled politely, the way one should went being introduced to the Police Chief's little girl. "Of course, I should thank you again for getting the license on such short notice. We really needed to get the fish out today."

"No problem, all part of the job." I replied, returning his tight smile with one of my own.

"Bella said you broke down. Anything major?" Charlie asked casually. I knew he was fishing to see how long they'd be in port.

"No, looks like it was just a leaking fuel pump. A couple of new hoses and some O rings and we'll be good to go. My engineer should have it all fixed by tomorrow afternoon if we can get the parts in by then. I'm planning on leaving with the high tide Saturday morning." Doc explained, looking back to Charlie.

Charlie nodded. We both knew they wouldn't leave tomorrow, no one starts a trip on a Friday, it's bad luck. I also personally had my doubts about Saturday. Most crew in on a weekend would look for any reason to stay through a Saturday night.

"You know it'll be quicker if you send someone over to the mainland to get the parts instead of having them shipped here." Charlie mentioned, hoping to ensure that Saturday morning ETD. I rolled my eyes, knowing what's coming next. "I'm sure Bella could set that up for you." Yep. There it was. Thanks, Dad.

Doc grinned lasciviously at me, turning just a bit so Charlie couldn't see his face. "I'd certainly appreciate any help, Bella."

I internally sighed, because wow, was he handsome and because I knew I'd probably have to go back to the mainland tomorrow. "If your engineer gives me a list, I can go over to Narragansett Engine and Marine and get the parts, or he if has a license, he can borrow the company truck and get them himself. They're located right next to the ferry dock in Galilee."

"Oh, we've already taken up too much of your time, Bella. If Emmett and Jasper can borrow that truck, I'm sure they'll find it themselves. But I do appreciate your willingness to help us with our needs."

Did I imagine it when Doc punctuated "needs" in such a way that it sounded pornographic? I glanced back at my dad who hadn't pulled his gun out so, yes, I must have imagined it. Damn, it was hot in here. I somehow managed to respond without sounding like a completely besotted fan before excusing myself to finish up so I could get home. While walking out, I saw Emmett and Jasper leaving with the slutty Russian girls. I couldn't help but smirk remembering Emmett's t-shirt from earlier. Dick's won't be the only place he gets his crabs. As usual, I threw my bike in the back of Jake's truck and caught a ride home with him. I waved as I crossed the street to my house and parked the bike on the porch. As much as I wanted to replay the events of the day in my head, I was too exhausted. Like Scarlett O'Hara, I would think about it all tomorrow.

A/N Poor Wirgin, but why is he called Ted and why is he from Milwaukee? Shelly, I thought you were a canon geek? I am; perhaps Edward is hiding something….. Remember, I promised angst, it says it right in the summary.

I keep forgetting to say, come find me on Twitter: shelly_duran (2 underscores). Someone mentioned finding me more readers. That was so sweet! Thank you! Pimp me if you like what you're reading and send me a review! -)