Author's note - More tossing in of songs from books I like (at the moment, Tolkien songs). Jones' song is from the Fellowship of the Ring movie - you hear both Gandalf and Bilbo singing little snippets of it throughout the film. Dana's song is from the Return of the King book, when Sam is alone in the orc tower and trying to find Frodo. Sally forth!
Fifteen
Warm evening air allowed Jones' ale-wagon to make good time, and the skies remained calm and clear that evening. Jones looked genuinely happy to be going to Tortuga, Dana thought, managing what had to be managed on the little boat with zeal. After a time, he began to sing quietly to himself, and Dana turned from her leaning position on the rail to listen:
"The road goes ever on and on,
Down from the door where it began,
Now far ahead the road has gone,
And I must follow if I can ...
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then - " *
He turned to wink at Dana. "I cannot say."
"Shameless," muttered Will from his perch on the wooden railing on the opposite end of the boat. As far as opposites went, it was not far away. His open white shirt billowed behind him in the wind. Pip squawked from his shoulder.
"If you didn't like my song," said Jones with an impish smile, "I would be happy to sing you another, William. They help so well to pass the time, and I know many."
"I wonder how many songs Dana knows ..." Will mused loudly, and she started to laugh. She tossed her hair in mock-offense.
"Why Will," she sniffed. "I'm insulted. I know more songs than either of you lads, and probably more than the two of you put together."
Jones tied and checked a final knot before the last of the evening light was gone. "Well now you've got to sing." He hopped into a thin hammock that swayed in the breeze. "Sing to me, Dana. Sing the both of us to sleep and we'll be the closer to Tortuga."
"Ah yes," said Dana. "Tortuga and our doom."
Jones settled his arms behind his head but did not shut his eyes. "Doom?"
"Yes," she replied with a glare in Will's direction. "But we'll be there soon enough. You lads wanted a song." She extended her arm to Pip, and the bird swept from Will and lighted on her wrist.
Small burden gone from his shoulder, Will also settled himself for sleep. "One we haven't heard before, which won't be difficult if you know so very many." Jones agreed with a nod as sleep started to tug his eyelids down.
Dana was far from tired, and thought for a moment while she stroked Pip's bright chest with a finger. He trilled, and in that same note she began to sing:
"In Western lands beneath the Sun
The flowers may rise in Spring,
The trees may bud, the waters run,
The merry finches sing.
Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night
And swaying beeches bear
The Elven-stars as jewels bright
Amid their branching hair.
Though here at journey's end I lie
In darkness buried deep,
Beyond all towers strong and high,
Beyond all mountains steep,
Above all shadows rides the Sun
And Stars for ever dwell:
I will not say the Day is done,
Nor bid the Stars farewell."
Her eyes lingered on the stars that were beginning to wink into sight in the night sky long after she sang, and if either Jones Underhill or William Turner had still been awake, they might have noticed the tears that stood, gleaming, in the eyes of Dana Flint. After a time, she hugged Pip to her chest with a teary laugh.
"Sorry there, little friend. Didn't mean to get so melodramatic on you boys." She spoke very quietly, and thought it charming how Pip's bright eyes remained on her face when she spoke. "You know," she said to him, and stroked his little chin gently. "You're quite the gentleman. You know just when to listen to a lady." Pip peeped and fluttered to her shoulder where Dana felt him settle himself for the night against her neck.
She scooted around on the railing until she was facing the ocean, and swung her feet back and forth above the spray. The boat rose and fell very slightly with the rise and fall of the dark water. Spray from the waves formed beads of moisture in her windblown hair and slightly wet her face. But for the slap of water on wood and the occasional grunt and groan of planks, the world was silent.
"Though here at journey's end I lie, in darkness buried deep ... " she repeated, and sighed. It was a comfort to have the weight of her holstered pistols on her hips. "Soon it will begin. Soon enough."
~
Because the wind had picked up rigorously during the night, Jones and Will were all smiles when dawn broke. "We're making excellent time," Will remarked, and rubbed his hands together. Morning breeze was chilly as a rule, and that morning it was very brisk. But the skies were clear and the wind was cooperating, and so Will huddled inside his jacket instead of complaining. His breath made little puffs in the air.
"Where's Dana this morning?" Jones asked, pulling this rope and readjusting that. Indeed, as Will looked out over the small deck, it was empty and quiet. But when he looked closer, he could see little clouds of breath in the cargo netting. He peered into the mass of rope and saw her comfortably asleep, blanketed and stretched on a segment of net like a hammock. Pip was nestled under her hair and against the warmth of her neck.
"She's sleeping," he called softly back to Jones. "Best not to wake her." Jones nodded, and wrapped his jacket more tightly around him.
"Perhaps she didn't sleep well last night."
Will shrugged. "I'd never know. She's a funny girl, but she ... what's the phrase ... keeps things close to the vest."
Jones sat. "I thought you two were friends."
"Oh sure we are, but there's plenty I don't know about her - plenty of things she's just never said."
"Why is she going with you to Tortuga?"
Will paused, then shook his head. "I don't know. I keep joking about needing her help, but I think we both know that I could handle things well enough on my own."
Jones, dark curls blowing over his fair face, looked curious. "Help ... ?"
"Something like that. We're - I'm going to see a man about something, and he may not
cooperate with what I'd like him to do for me."
Jones' blue eyes lit up. "Need reinforcements?" Will couldn't help but smile,
"I'll keep it in mind. If I ever have an opening for a side-kick, you'll be the first to know."
"And rightfully so. I can hold my own against anyone."
Will laughed now, despite Jones' pout. He seemed very good at that - the pouting. "Have you ever laid hand on blade or pistol, Jones?" Jones drew himself up to his full - though not very substantial - height.
"No, I haven't, but there are weapons besides those."
"Such as?"
Jones made two fists, and flexed the muscles in his forearms and biceps. Will was more than a little surprised to see that there actually were muscles in his arms. "Like me. I boxed before I owned the Green Dragon - it helps me to keep owning the Green Dragon." The blacksmith raised his eyebrows.
"That's a useful thing to know. We'll have to put to good use one of these days."
"One of these days," Jones agreed, then yawned and stretched languidly.
The air was starting to warm as the morning wore on, and Will decided he was intensely happy to be at sea, to be on the water. There was little to manage on Jones' little vessel, and Will was not surprised to find himself longing for the snap and flutter of mighty sails overhead, the groan and wooden chuckle of the deep rigging, and the myriad of voices that shouted and cursed and barked and laughed deep guttural laughs that seemed to creak from the very ship they manned. When Jack had teased him so long ago about wanting to turn pirate, he had become defensive, and perhaps too much so. But what had he known then about this great shimmering and azure mass that surrounded and lived its own life all around him?
He had glimpsed Jack's pirate brand, glimpsed the scar that the pirate wore - with pride - on his forearm. Will ran a thumb over his own forearm: smooth and tanned and warm with life. But what kind of life, wondered Will, and did not yet have an answer.
By mid-afternoon, when the sun had reached its zenith overhead and the warmth had spurred both young men to shirk their jackets and boots, the breeze had become a warm wind. Their little boat moved steadily along with only the occasional assistance from Jones, and Will was certain that they would reach Tortuga before nightfall.
There came either a yawn or a groan from Dana's hammock of netting, and both Will and Jones watched with amusement as she clambered out and onto the deck. She clapped her hat down over her disheveled hair, and offered both a sleepy smile. "'Morning."
"Morning was a few hours ago, oh Maiden-Who-Rises-In-Afternoon," said Will, not unkindly.
Dana, straightening her shirt, replied, "Let me tell you lads something about this 'morning' business. It's better for one's health to avoid it altogether. The earlier you rise, the sooner you must start to work, and the shorter your life will be. It's infinitely better to stay up all night and sleep all morning. You'll never miss anything fun, and by the time you wake, the rest of the world is going about its merry business and all is well. You gents got all that?"
"Savvy," said Will with a nod, and Jones smiled.
"In any case," she continued, "you two will be wanting some sleep if this Tortuga is as hopping a place as Will has made it out to be. Who wants to be asleep and missing the action in a place like that?"
There came a chuckle from Jones. "Oh, there are all sorts of things to do there, Dana. Sleep ... sleep isn't really one of them."
"Well there's another reason to rest now," she said. "It's no use holding a sword to the necks of evil pirates if you can't see straight for exhaustion."
Will agreed. "'Tis true, but I feel fine. I feel ready. It's going to be easy." Dana crossed her arms and shook her head.
"You've no idea, Will. None at all. I can't believe you've never heard tale of him, but now, instead of just being a shame from your childhood, it might cost you your life."
Jones was watching the interchange, interested, when Will unsheathed his sword and pointed it levelly at Dana. "You doubt me, Flint?" She was not fazed.
"That doesn't matter, Will! What matters is that I certainly don't doubt HIM! You're mad to do this - you'll never kill Roberts!"
"Roberts?" repeated Jones, startled. "Roberts is the man you're headed to Tortuga to find? The Dread Pirate Roberts?"
"He's taken my friends' ship," Will said in a low voice, and lowered his blade. "We need that ship and we need my friend's help. If I've got to kill Roberts in order to do that, then I will." Jones whistled, long and low, then shook his head. He said nothing, but his wide blue eyes told Will more than enough.
"No one thinks I can do this!" he shouted, and glared at the both of them. Pip, perched now on Jones' knee, fluttered in surprise.
"It's because you can't!" Dana shouted back. She didn't look angry, in fact, she looked apologetic. "Will, you're my friend. I don't want to see you hurt. But this is a fool's errand."
Will sheathed his sword. "Fine," he said. "That's fine. Then I'll do it without you."
"What?" cried Dana and Jones at the same time. But Will hopped up and sat on the railing with his back to them, and did not reply.
"Fine then!" Dana shouted. "Have it your own way, blacksmith. Don't say we didn't warn you when you find Roberts' blade in your belly!" She went back to her net-hammock, out of sight, and Jones was left alone.
He would have liked to sing as he often did to entertain himself on a sea voyage, but couldn't help but feel that this wasn't the proper time. He closed his eyes instead, and the rest of the voyage passed in silence.
~
They came upon Tortuga in the late evening, and judging by all appearances, that was when the little port town came to life. While Will and Jones concerned themselves with tying up Jones' boat at the dock, Dana drank in the sight of the riotous town with large eyes - she tried to ignore that aspect of Tortuga that tried to make it through her nose. Smell aside, Tortuga was a wonder to the senses - bright lights illuminated bawdy shops that offered for purchase all sorts of distasteful and delightful baubles. Brays of laughter and crooning whistles rode piggyback on the warm night breeze, and the air itself seemed to shimmer.
Dana felt an affinity for the place immediately, and though Will still wouldn't speak to her, she could see a softening in his features when the lights hit his eyes. It seemed to her that he had been looking forward to coming to Tortuga more than he had let on, and not simply for the sake of challenging Roberts. Jones' demeanor, on the other hand, did not change at all. He looked instead oddly at home in the raucous and brilliantly lit environment. The twang of guitar and the rhythmic crash and clatter of bottle and glass coalesced into an amiable melody. Jones seemed to ease into and move with it without much effort, and the motions he made while docking and mooring the boat matched that rhythm, though he did not seem to realize it.
His shirt had some unbuttoned during the heat of the day - as had Will's - and neither made any move to do them up. As she watched both pale ivory skin and smooth bronzed skin move in the shifting Tortugan light, Dana suddenly became conscious of how she looked. She smoothed her burgundy tresses before covering them with her leather cap so that only the curled edges were visible. She buttoned her thin dark shirt nearly - but with all honesty, not altogether closely - to her throat.
She fancied her own blue eyes captured the flickering light in as fetching a way as did Jones', then caught herself quickly: she was dangerously close to becoming a Mary Sue. With that thought like an unpleasant taste in her mouth, she shrugged into her long coat. She carefully left the coat open, not merely due to the warmth of the night, but to make known the pistols that rested on either side of her hips.
Will, grudgingly, watched her ready herself with an appraising eye. Jones did the same, though he had no such haughty pride to prevent him from commenting. "You look good, Dana. You look especially ... " he paused, searching for an appropriate word while Dana turned pink. "You look ... dangerous." She looked very briefly disappointed, then put on a satisfied face and gave Jones a coy tip of her hat.
"Pleased to hear it, sir. And make no mistake, it is an apt observation."
Jones' eyes dropped to the pistol at her hip. "I don't doubt it. Mind if I stick with you on our little tour?" He smiled in a way that might have been called shy. "Every man should be so lucky as to have such a lethal escort." She smiled widely, and accepted Jones' arm as they stepped up onto the dock. Pip, head cocked, watched the two of them go, then quailed at being left behind. He flapped to Dana's shoulder, and she suddenly looked eerily pirate-like. She would have despised to know it, Will thought.
He watched them start to leave, and watched Dana pause and turn back to him. "Look, I won't insult you by wishing you luck," she said quietly, barely loud enough to be heard over Tortuga's nearby din. "But I do care about you, Will. I hope that I see you again."
He nodded, slowly and silently. She opened her mouth as though she would say something more, then closed it and nodded in kind. Beside her, Jones bit his lip, then raised a brief hand in farewell. Will turned away from them then, and bent under the pretense of doing up his boots.
In truth, as he pulled taut the strings, he was very afraid.
Fifteen
Warm evening air allowed Jones' ale-wagon to make good time, and the skies remained calm and clear that evening. Jones looked genuinely happy to be going to Tortuga, Dana thought, managing what had to be managed on the little boat with zeal. After a time, he began to sing quietly to himself, and Dana turned from her leaning position on the rail to listen:
"The road goes ever on and on,
Down from the door where it began,
Now far ahead the road has gone,
And I must follow if I can ...
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then - " *
He turned to wink at Dana. "I cannot say."
"Shameless," muttered Will from his perch on the wooden railing on the opposite end of the boat. As far as opposites went, it was not far away. His open white shirt billowed behind him in the wind. Pip squawked from his shoulder.
"If you didn't like my song," said Jones with an impish smile, "I would be happy to sing you another, William. They help so well to pass the time, and I know many."
"I wonder how many songs Dana knows ..." Will mused loudly, and she started to laugh. She tossed her hair in mock-offense.
"Why Will," she sniffed. "I'm insulted. I know more songs than either of you lads, and probably more than the two of you put together."
Jones tied and checked a final knot before the last of the evening light was gone. "Well now you've got to sing." He hopped into a thin hammock that swayed in the breeze. "Sing to me, Dana. Sing the both of us to sleep and we'll be the closer to Tortuga."
"Ah yes," said Dana. "Tortuga and our doom."
Jones settled his arms behind his head but did not shut his eyes. "Doom?"
"Yes," she replied with a glare in Will's direction. "But we'll be there soon enough. You lads wanted a song." She extended her arm to Pip, and the bird swept from Will and lighted on her wrist.
Small burden gone from his shoulder, Will also settled himself for sleep. "One we haven't heard before, which won't be difficult if you know so very many." Jones agreed with a nod as sleep started to tug his eyelids down.
Dana was far from tired, and thought for a moment while she stroked Pip's bright chest with a finger. He trilled, and in that same note she began to sing:
"In Western lands beneath the Sun
The flowers may rise in Spring,
The trees may bud, the waters run,
The merry finches sing.
Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night
And swaying beeches bear
The Elven-stars as jewels bright
Amid their branching hair.
Though here at journey's end I lie
In darkness buried deep,
Beyond all towers strong and high,
Beyond all mountains steep,
Above all shadows rides the Sun
And Stars for ever dwell:
I will not say the Day is done,
Nor bid the Stars farewell."
Her eyes lingered on the stars that were beginning to wink into sight in the night sky long after she sang, and if either Jones Underhill or William Turner had still been awake, they might have noticed the tears that stood, gleaming, in the eyes of Dana Flint. After a time, she hugged Pip to her chest with a teary laugh.
"Sorry there, little friend. Didn't mean to get so melodramatic on you boys." She spoke very quietly, and thought it charming how Pip's bright eyes remained on her face when she spoke. "You know," she said to him, and stroked his little chin gently. "You're quite the gentleman. You know just when to listen to a lady." Pip peeped and fluttered to her shoulder where Dana felt him settle himself for the night against her neck.
She scooted around on the railing until she was facing the ocean, and swung her feet back and forth above the spray. The boat rose and fell very slightly with the rise and fall of the dark water. Spray from the waves formed beads of moisture in her windblown hair and slightly wet her face. But for the slap of water on wood and the occasional grunt and groan of planks, the world was silent.
"Though here at journey's end I lie, in darkness buried deep ... " she repeated, and sighed. It was a comfort to have the weight of her holstered pistols on her hips. "Soon it will begin. Soon enough."
~
Because the wind had picked up rigorously during the night, Jones and Will were all smiles when dawn broke. "We're making excellent time," Will remarked, and rubbed his hands together. Morning breeze was chilly as a rule, and that morning it was very brisk. But the skies were clear and the wind was cooperating, and so Will huddled inside his jacket instead of complaining. His breath made little puffs in the air.
"Where's Dana this morning?" Jones asked, pulling this rope and readjusting that. Indeed, as Will looked out over the small deck, it was empty and quiet. But when he looked closer, he could see little clouds of breath in the cargo netting. He peered into the mass of rope and saw her comfortably asleep, blanketed and stretched on a segment of net like a hammock. Pip was nestled under her hair and against the warmth of her neck.
"She's sleeping," he called softly back to Jones. "Best not to wake her." Jones nodded, and wrapped his jacket more tightly around him.
"Perhaps she didn't sleep well last night."
Will shrugged. "I'd never know. She's a funny girl, but she ... what's the phrase ... keeps things close to the vest."
Jones sat. "I thought you two were friends."
"Oh sure we are, but there's plenty I don't know about her - plenty of things she's just never said."
"Why is she going with you to Tortuga?"
Will paused, then shook his head. "I don't know. I keep joking about needing her help, but I think we both know that I could handle things well enough on my own."
Jones, dark curls blowing over his fair face, looked curious. "Help ... ?"
"Something like that. We're - I'm going to see a man about something, and he may not
cooperate with what I'd like him to do for me."
Jones' blue eyes lit up. "Need reinforcements?" Will couldn't help but smile,
"I'll keep it in mind. If I ever have an opening for a side-kick, you'll be the first to know."
"And rightfully so. I can hold my own against anyone."
Will laughed now, despite Jones' pout. He seemed very good at that - the pouting. "Have you ever laid hand on blade or pistol, Jones?" Jones drew himself up to his full - though not very substantial - height.
"No, I haven't, but there are weapons besides those."
"Such as?"
Jones made two fists, and flexed the muscles in his forearms and biceps. Will was more than a little surprised to see that there actually were muscles in his arms. "Like me. I boxed before I owned the Green Dragon - it helps me to keep owning the Green Dragon." The blacksmith raised his eyebrows.
"That's a useful thing to know. We'll have to put to good use one of these days."
"One of these days," Jones agreed, then yawned and stretched languidly.
The air was starting to warm as the morning wore on, and Will decided he was intensely happy to be at sea, to be on the water. There was little to manage on Jones' little vessel, and Will was not surprised to find himself longing for the snap and flutter of mighty sails overhead, the groan and wooden chuckle of the deep rigging, and the myriad of voices that shouted and cursed and barked and laughed deep guttural laughs that seemed to creak from the very ship they manned. When Jack had teased him so long ago about wanting to turn pirate, he had become defensive, and perhaps too much so. But what had he known then about this great shimmering and azure mass that surrounded and lived its own life all around him?
He had glimpsed Jack's pirate brand, glimpsed the scar that the pirate wore - with pride - on his forearm. Will ran a thumb over his own forearm: smooth and tanned and warm with life. But what kind of life, wondered Will, and did not yet have an answer.
By mid-afternoon, when the sun had reached its zenith overhead and the warmth had spurred both young men to shirk their jackets and boots, the breeze had become a warm wind. Their little boat moved steadily along with only the occasional assistance from Jones, and Will was certain that they would reach Tortuga before nightfall.
There came either a yawn or a groan from Dana's hammock of netting, and both Will and Jones watched with amusement as she clambered out and onto the deck. She clapped her hat down over her disheveled hair, and offered both a sleepy smile. "'Morning."
"Morning was a few hours ago, oh Maiden-Who-Rises-In-Afternoon," said Will, not unkindly.
Dana, straightening her shirt, replied, "Let me tell you lads something about this 'morning' business. It's better for one's health to avoid it altogether. The earlier you rise, the sooner you must start to work, and the shorter your life will be. It's infinitely better to stay up all night and sleep all morning. You'll never miss anything fun, and by the time you wake, the rest of the world is going about its merry business and all is well. You gents got all that?"
"Savvy," said Will with a nod, and Jones smiled.
"In any case," she continued, "you two will be wanting some sleep if this Tortuga is as hopping a place as Will has made it out to be. Who wants to be asleep and missing the action in a place like that?"
There came a chuckle from Jones. "Oh, there are all sorts of things to do there, Dana. Sleep ... sleep isn't really one of them."
"Well there's another reason to rest now," she said. "It's no use holding a sword to the necks of evil pirates if you can't see straight for exhaustion."
Will agreed. "'Tis true, but I feel fine. I feel ready. It's going to be easy." Dana crossed her arms and shook her head.
"You've no idea, Will. None at all. I can't believe you've never heard tale of him, but now, instead of just being a shame from your childhood, it might cost you your life."
Jones was watching the interchange, interested, when Will unsheathed his sword and pointed it levelly at Dana. "You doubt me, Flint?" She was not fazed.
"That doesn't matter, Will! What matters is that I certainly don't doubt HIM! You're mad to do this - you'll never kill Roberts!"
"Roberts?" repeated Jones, startled. "Roberts is the man you're headed to Tortuga to find? The Dread Pirate Roberts?"
"He's taken my friends' ship," Will said in a low voice, and lowered his blade. "We need that ship and we need my friend's help. If I've got to kill Roberts in order to do that, then I will." Jones whistled, long and low, then shook his head. He said nothing, but his wide blue eyes told Will more than enough.
"No one thinks I can do this!" he shouted, and glared at the both of them. Pip, perched now on Jones' knee, fluttered in surprise.
"It's because you can't!" Dana shouted back. She didn't look angry, in fact, she looked apologetic. "Will, you're my friend. I don't want to see you hurt. But this is a fool's errand."
Will sheathed his sword. "Fine," he said. "That's fine. Then I'll do it without you."
"What?" cried Dana and Jones at the same time. But Will hopped up and sat on the railing with his back to them, and did not reply.
"Fine then!" Dana shouted. "Have it your own way, blacksmith. Don't say we didn't warn you when you find Roberts' blade in your belly!" She went back to her net-hammock, out of sight, and Jones was left alone.
He would have liked to sing as he often did to entertain himself on a sea voyage, but couldn't help but feel that this wasn't the proper time. He closed his eyes instead, and the rest of the voyage passed in silence.
~
They came upon Tortuga in the late evening, and judging by all appearances, that was when the little port town came to life. While Will and Jones concerned themselves with tying up Jones' boat at the dock, Dana drank in the sight of the riotous town with large eyes - she tried to ignore that aspect of Tortuga that tried to make it through her nose. Smell aside, Tortuga was a wonder to the senses - bright lights illuminated bawdy shops that offered for purchase all sorts of distasteful and delightful baubles. Brays of laughter and crooning whistles rode piggyback on the warm night breeze, and the air itself seemed to shimmer.
Dana felt an affinity for the place immediately, and though Will still wouldn't speak to her, she could see a softening in his features when the lights hit his eyes. It seemed to her that he had been looking forward to coming to Tortuga more than he had let on, and not simply for the sake of challenging Roberts. Jones' demeanor, on the other hand, did not change at all. He looked instead oddly at home in the raucous and brilliantly lit environment. The twang of guitar and the rhythmic crash and clatter of bottle and glass coalesced into an amiable melody. Jones seemed to ease into and move with it without much effort, and the motions he made while docking and mooring the boat matched that rhythm, though he did not seem to realize it.
His shirt had some unbuttoned during the heat of the day - as had Will's - and neither made any move to do them up. As she watched both pale ivory skin and smooth bronzed skin move in the shifting Tortugan light, Dana suddenly became conscious of how she looked. She smoothed her burgundy tresses before covering them with her leather cap so that only the curled edges were visible. She buttoned her thin dark shirt nearly - but with all honesty, not altogether closely - to her throat.
She fancied her own blue eyes captured the flickering light in as fetching a way as did Jones', then caught herself quickly: she was dangerously close to becoming a Mary Sue. With that thought like an unpleasant taste in her mouth, she shrugged into her long coat. She carefully left the coat open, not merely due to the warmth of the night, but to make known the pistols that rested on either side of her hips.
Will, grudgingly, watched her ready herself with an appraising eye. Jones did the same, though he had no such haughty pride to prevent him from commenting. "You look good, Dana. You look especially ... " he paused, searching for an appropriate word while Dana turned pink. "You look ... dangerous." She looked very briefly disappointed, then put on a satisfied face and gave Jones a coy tip of her hat.
"Pleased to hear it, sir. And make no mistake, it is an apt observation."
Jones' eyes dropped to the pistol at her hip. "I don't doubt it. Mind if I stick with you on our little tour?" He smiled in a way that might have been called shy. "Every man should be so lucky as to have such a lethal escort." She smiled widely, and accepted Jones' arm as they stepped up onto the dock. Pip, head cocked, watched the two of them go, then quailed at being left behind. He flapped to Dana's shoulder, and she suddenly looked eerily pirate-like. She would have despised to know it, Will thought.
He watched them start to leave, and watched Dana pause and turn back to him. "Look, I won't insult you by wishing you luck," she said quietly, barely loud enough to be heard over Tortuga's nearby din. "But I do care about you, Will. I hope that I see you again."
He nodded, slowly and silently. She opened her mouth as though she would say something more, then closed it and nodded in kind. Beside her, Jones bit his lip, then raised a brief hand in farewell. Will turned away from them then, and bent under the pretense of doing up his boots.
In truth, as he pulled taut the strings, he was very afraid.