Warnings- none really, this is a kinda mild chapter. I had to split up this
chapter, I'm still not happy with the second part, but I thought that I
better put something up for you all because your all being so patient.
Thanks.
Disclaimers- they're not mine and if they were I'd prolly crash them into a field.
A/n- at the end
~~~~~~~~~~~######~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Last time my pov
I hear him picking the bottle up.
"Ready?" I nod my head and grit my teeth preparing for the worst. What came next was the most agonizing thing that I've ever put up with.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~#######~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two hours later saw us lying on our backs on the floor, debating the real issues of life.
"Give me a drink of your rum, something happened to mine, tis all gone, look" Sands holds the empty bottle right up to my face to prove his point.
"Yeah, something happened all right you drank it, and no there's not enough left in mine. Hear that? It's mine, not yours, mine, so I get to keep and drink it" I take a swig out of the bottle and hold it securely to my chest.
"It's half full..." I cut him off.
"NO, that's a common misconception, it is not in fact half full, it's half empty. It would only be half full if it was empty and filled half way, which it was not, it was full and drank half way....... Thus, half empty."
I love being clever, during my little speech I had started emphasizing with my bottle, Sands grabbed it.
"Thus you've already had half of the bottle and won't mind sharing it wi' an old friend" he lift it to his lips and drinks it, oh well as long as he doesn't finish it we'll be fine.
I try to focus on the room, fighting the head spins is imperative to the survival of the mission... whatever that is.
"Sands, what is the mission again?" I ask, one, because I think that the answer is imperative to the mission and two, because he's taking his sweet time with the rum.
"Weren't you looking for the muse? Or did we give up on that and vote for getting as drunk in Tortuga as piratly possible." He gives me back the rum and sits up against the bed, lighting a roll up.
"Maybe we were doing both, hard to say really. You are really going to have to get some more rum soon" I mention casually as I finish the bottle and struggle to sit up next to him. Once this is achieved I rest my head on Sand's shoulder, the material of the black shirt I'm wearing is really scratchy and I have to resist the urge to scratch myself, actually all I want to do is roll about on the floor scratching on the rug like a big, black dog I don't know why the dog would be black, it just would be.
"How long before my back is healed, do you think?" he frowns at my question not quite seeing where I'm coming from, not making the connection between rum and back, obviously its because cause he didn't get the whole black dog thing.
"I don't know, it's not very deep, it's just long. Even at that I've seen worse, hell I've had worse (my thoughts immediately go to the scar on his chest, how did he get that I wonder) The most important thing was to get it sterilised now, just as long as you keep it clean, it'll close up in a few days, why?" he turns his head to look me in the eye, his eyes and speech are becoming more sober by the second which is slightly unnerving, fascinating, but unnerving at the same time. The swelling on his eye has went down and he's been left with a black eye, which serves him right.
I shake my head breaking whatever eye contact we might have had.
"It's a long story and mental train of thought, it had to do with an itchy shirt (I pull on the shirt for emphasis) this one if you must know, and a big black dog rolling on the rug, that very one there" I point to the floor. He raises an eyebrow (I hate it when people do that, it's something I've always wanted to be able to do you can say so much with so little)
"I only asked a question, no need to go all aggressive, anyway if you want to take off your shirt and have a little roll about, count me in" he says managing to keep his face strait.
"You'd like that wouldn't you? I think we've done enough of rolling on the floor for one day don't you?"
He smiles, a wicked little grin as he puts his arm around me and pulls me onto his lap, carefully avoiding my back. I look up into his dark coffee coloured eyes and let myself relax momentarily. I try to think of something witty or sarcastic to say but my mind goes blank, where's Cat when I need her. As I try to get up his grip on me tightens, not by much, I could probably get free if I wanted to, but do I want to, that's the question.
Not really much of a question, of course I don't want to move, I wiggle down making myself more comfortable taking both of us by surprise as I lay my head on his chest, close my eyes and relax into him, I can hear the sound of his heart beating.
Suddenly I'm so tired I could just fall asleep, for a psychopath Sands has a certain aura about him, its strangely comforting. He opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it and lets his breath out in a sigh as he wraps his arms more securely around me.
I remember earlier on when he was splashing the brandy on my back, well I remember the pain but also there was his reassuring warmth and weight holding me down, firmly but also gently. He spoke to me as he did it, I have no idea what he was saying, due to the pain but his tone was soft and had a calming effect. Once we had finished cleaning and wrapping the wounds, Sands had tried to stab me a few times, with my permission.
Each time he did it, it was the same as before, I could feel the steel against my arm, then nothing, but even as unnerving as that was his hand on my arm was enough to make me trust him, well that, and the fact that he can't stab me.
We sit there in silence for a while just feeling each others presence and warmth. Listening to each other breath, feeling the rising and falling of our chests, I had all but fallen asleep when Sands clears his throat and speaks.
"I think we're sobering up, we should go and find the good Captain and make sure he hasn't forgotten about us or before he gets so drunk that he forgets how to work his dick never mind the fact that he's got two little Passengers to take to France" Sands says as he removes his arms from me.
"There's a very good cure for sobering up y'know, and Jack will never forget how to use that thing, but he might forget about us, do you really think Buck will be in France?" I stand up........ well attempt, to on the third try I get it, though I have my arms held out in front of me in a very Jackish manner. Sands stands next to me with ease, apparently somebody sobers up quite fast.
"I have no idea where he is, but finding him isn't my job that's what you're here to do, I'm here to fuck with peoples heads. That was our agreement" he starts to get things together including his hat, which had fallen off his head at some point.
I look around for my weapons. Sands brought them with him, I spot them on the floor and put them in there places noting that the blade I used to stab Gates was clean. I reload the pistol using the shot from my jacket and turn to Sands as I put my hat on.
"Well come on sugar butt, rum waits for no girl" he opens the door and gestures for me to go first I do but not before grabbing Jacks shirt and tucking it under my arm.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~##~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/n- that's all for tonight. Sorry it took so long. If you've been checking the review page to see why it was so late you'll know that I crashed my car. It still hurts to type for prolonged periods, so I'm going to go to bed and sleep for a very, very long time......... well until collage tomorrow.
I should get the next chapter up tomorrow it will be another short one as it was originally the other part o' this one. I just need a little more time on it and I don't have that tonight. Which means, that as long as I'm not in any more car crashes I should get another longer chapter for Friday. Fingers crossed.
As always please review, cus it's nice. I'll get to put the author's thanks in with the next chapter.
Also I haven't been able to read this through finally so if you spot any mistakes please let me know, savvy?
Thanks.
Disclaimers- they're not mine and if they were I'd prolly crash them into a field.
A/n- at the end
~~~~~~~~~~~######~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Last time my pov
I hear him picking the bottle up.
"Ready?" I nod my head and grit my teeth preparing for the worst. What came next was the most agonizing thing that I've ever put up with.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~#######~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two hours later saw us lying on our backs on the floor, debating the real issues of life.
"Give me a drink of your rum, something happened to mine, tis all gone, look" Sands holds the empty bottle right up to my face to prove his point.
"Yeah, something happened all right you drank it, and no there's not enough left in mine. Hear that? It's mine, not yours, mine, so I get to keep and drink it" I take a swig out of the bottle and hold it securely to my chest.
"It's half full..." I cut him off.
"NO, that's a common misconception, it is not in fact half full, it's half empty. It would only be half full if it was empty and filled half way, which it was not, it was full and drank half way....... Thus, half empty."
I love being clever, during my little speech I had started emphasizing with my bottle, Sands grabbed it.
"Thus you've already had half of the bottle and won't mind sharing it wi' an old friend" he lift it to his lips and drinks it, oh well as long as he doesn't finish it we'll be fine.
I try to focus on the room, fighting the head spins is imperative to the survival of the mission... whatever that is.
"Sands, what is the mission again?" I ask, one, because I think that the answer is imperative to the mission and two, because he's taking his sweet time with the rum.
"Weren't you looking for the muse? Or did we give up on that and vote for getting as drunk in Tortuga as piratly possible." He gives me back the rum and sits up against the bed, lighting a roll up.
"Maybe we were doing both, hard to say really. You are really going to have to get some more rum soon" I mention casually as I finish the bottle and struggle to sit up next to him. Once this is achieved I rest my head on Sand's shoulder, the material of the black shirt I'm wearing is really scratchy and I have to resist the urge to scratch myself, actually all I want to do is roll about on the floor scratching on the rug like a big, black dog I don't know why the dog would be black, it just would be.
"How long before my back is healed, do you think?" he frowns at my question not quite seeing where I'm coming from, not making the connection between rum and back, obviously its because cause he didn't get the whole black dog thing.
"I don't know, it's not very deep, it's just long. Even at that I've seen worse, hell I've had worse (my thoughts immediately go to the scar on his chest, how did he get that I wonder) The most important thing was to get it sterilised now, just as long as you keep it clean, it'll close up in a few days, why?" he turns his head to look me in the eye, his eyes and speech are becoming more sober by the second which is slightly unnerving, fascinating, but unnerving at the same time. The swelling on his eye has went down and he's been left with a black eye, which serves him right.
I shake my head breaking whatever eye contact we might have had.
"It's a long story and mental train of thought, it had to do with an itchy shirt (I pull on the shirt for emphasis) this one if you must know, and a big black dog rolling on the rug, that very one there" I point to the floor. He raises an eyebrow (I hate it when people do that, it's something I've always wanted to be able to do you can say so much with so little)
"I only asked a question, no need to go all aggressive, anyway if you want to take off your shirt and have a little roll about, count me in" he says managing to keep his face strait.
"You'd like that wouldn't you? I think we've done enough of rolling on the floor for one day don't you?"
He smiles, a wicked little grin as he puts his arm around me and pulls me onto his lap, carefully avoiding my back. I look up into his dark coffee coloured eyes and let myself relax momentarily. I try to think of something witty or sarcastic to say but my mind goes blank, where's Cat when I need her. As I try to get up his grip on me tightens, not by much, I could probably get free if I wanted to, but do I want to, that's the question.
Not really much of a question, of course I don't want to move, I wiggle down making myself more comfortable taking both of us by surprise as I lay my head on his chest, close my eyes and relax into him, I can hear the sound of his heart beating.
Suddenly I'm so tired I could just fall asleep, for a psychopath Sands has a certain aura about him, its strangely comforting. He opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it and lets his breath out in a sigh as he wraps his arms more securely around me.
I remember earlier on when he was splashing the brandy on my back, well I remember the pain but also there was his reassuring warmth and weight holding me down, firmly but also gently. He spoke to me as he did it, I have no idea what he was saying, due to the pain but his tone was soft and had a calming effect. Once we had finished cleaning and wrapping the wounds, Sands had tried to stab me a few times, with my permission.
Each time he did it, it was the same as before, I could feel the steel against my arm, then nothing, but even as unnerving as that was his hand on my arm was enough to make me trust him, well that, and the fact that he can't stab me.
We sit there in silence for a while just feeling each others presence and warmth. Listening to each other breath, feeling the rising and falling of our chests, I had all but fallen asleep when Sands clears his throat and speaks.
"I think we're sobering up, we should go and find the good Captain and make sure he hasn't forgotten about us or before he gets so drunk that he forgets how to work his dick never mind the fact that he's got two little Passengers to take to France" Sands says as he removes his arms from me.
"There's a very good cure for sobering up y'know, and Jack will never forget how to use that thing, but he might forget about us, do you really think Buck will be in France?" I stand up........ well attempt, to on the third try I get it, though I have my arms held out in front of me in a very Jackish manner. Sands stands next to me with ease, apparently somebody sobers up quite fast.
"I have no idea where he is, but finding him isn't my job that's what you're here to do, I'm here to fuck with peoples heads. That was our agreement" he starts to get things together including his hat, which had fallen off his head at some point.
I look around for my weapons. Sands brought them with him, I spot them on the floor and put them in there places noting that the blade I used to stab Gates was clean. I reload the pistol using the shot from my jacket and turn to Sands as I put my hat on.
"Well come on sugar butt, rum waits for no girl" he opens the door and gestures for me to go first I do but not before grabbing Jacks shirt and tucking it under my arm.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~##~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/n- that's all for tonight. Sorry it took so long. If you've been checking the review page to see why it was so late you'll know that I crashed my car. It still hurts to type for prolonged periods, so I'm going to go to bed and sleep for a very, very long time......... well until collage tomorrow.
I should get the next chapter up tomorrow it will be another short one as it was originally the other part o' this one. I just need a little more time on it and I don't have that tonight. Which means, that as long as I'm not in any more car crashes I should get another longer chapter for Friday. Fingers crossed.
As always please review, cus it's nice. I'll get to put the author's thanks in with the next chapter.
Also I haven't been able to read this through finally so if you spot any mistakes please let me know, savvy?
Thanks.