"This was the last thing I needed."
Sparrow could have been talking about the fourth mug of rum he was drinking. Or he could have been echoing my sentiment about the stupid blue dress. Or that his friend, Gibbs, thought I was the cause of all of the problems.
He could have been.
But he wasn't.
I was staying out of his way, busying myself with trying to look busy, since there was no TV in 1689 and it looked like it was going to be hours before he was on duty again. Looking busy gave way to me missing TV. Bad. I spent at least fifteen minutes wondering if hockey had been invented yet and whether it would be a good idea for me to 'invent' it if hadn't.
And then I thought about pizza. And beer. Hockey always made me think about pizza and beer. And Morelli. Yeah, there was nothing like spending nights on the couch with Morelli, watching the game, eating a Pino's pizza and drinking beer. Followed by orgasms. Usually.
Mental head slap. Here it was, not even noon, and I was thinking about pizza, beer and sex. In that order. Were my priorities screwed up or what? Judging by my luck so far, I wasn't going to get pizza, beer or sex any time in the near future, either.
Sparrow was staring at me. "Did you say something?"
"No." I hoped. God, please let me not have said anything. Or if I did, let it be hockey, pizza or beer and not ---
"It sounded like sex."
"Probably all that rum."
"Must be." He took a long swallow of rum, licked his lips slowly and cocked his head in my direction. "So, what trouble are you and Ana planning to get into when I take the helm tonight?"
"Us? Trouble?" I gave him my most innocent look. "We were going to give each other facials and talk about boys –"
"You. Trouble." Sparrow caught my wrist and pulled me over to him. "I'm sure I've told you more than once not to do anything stupid, love."
"You also told me to wear this dress!" I sniffed indignantly and hoped I could change the subject. "Look how well that advice turned out. I'm getting a heat rash someplace a girl shouldn't have one."
"Maybe Ana can help you with it while you're giving each other facials and talking about boys." He pulled me closer. "Of course, it's going to be hard for her to give you a facial since you're going to be safely tucked away in the brig. For your own protection, ye know."
"You wouldn't dare, Sparrow!"
*****************************************
Pirate.
I was pretty sure Sparrow used that word to justify every sleazy thing he did. Then again, he was a pirate and he did things like burglarizing other boats and ravishing maidens and probably terrorizing Peter Pan or something like that.
The jerk had the nerve to tell me that I should be happy he found the leak. He was even more of a jerk for not answering my question about the rats.
As I sat there, thinking Sparrow was a big, stupid jerk and scratching because the darn dress itched, it occurred to me that it was still daylight and Ana wasn't going to get off duty for hours.
God, I needed a Twinkie.
Sparrow could have been talking about the fourth mug of rum he was drinking. Or he could have been echoing my sentiment about the stupid blue dress. Or that his friend, Gibbs, thought I was the cause of all of the problems.
He could have been.
But he wasn't.
I was staying out of his way, busying myself with trying to look busy, since there was no TV in 1689 and it looked like it was going to be hours before he was on duty again. Looking busy gave way to me missing TV. Bad. I spent at least fifteen minutes wondering if hockey had been invented yet and whether it would be a good idea for me to 'invent' it if hadn't.
And then I thought about pizza. And beer. Hockey always made me think about pizza and beer. And Morelli. Yeah, there was nothing like spending nights on the couch with Morelli, watching the game, eating a Pino's pizza and drinking beer. Followed by orgasms. Usually.
Mental head slap. Here it was, not even noon, and I was thinking about pizza, beer and sex. In that order. Were my priorities screwed up or what? Judging by my luck so far, I wasn't going to get pizza, beer or sex any time in the near future, either.
Sparrow was staring at me. "Did you say something?"
"No." I hoped. God, please let me not have said anything. Or if I did, let it be hockey, pizza or beer and not ---
"It sounded like sex."
"Probably all that rum."
"Must be." He took a long swallow of rum, licked his lips slowly and cocked his head in my direction. "So, what trouble are you and Ana planning to get into when I take the helm tonight?"
"Us? Trouble?" I gave him my most innocent look. "We were going to give each other facials and talk about boys –"
"You. Trouble." Sparrow caught my wrist and pulled me over to him. "I'm sure I've told you more than once not to do anything stupid, love."
"You also told me to wear this dress!" I sniffed indignantly and hoped I could change the subject. "Look how well that advice turned out. I'm getting a heat rash someplace a girl shouldn't have one."
"Maybe Ana can help you with it while you're giving each other facials and talking about boys." He pulled me closer. "Of course, it's going to be hard for her to give you a facial since you're going to be safely tucked away in the brig. For your own protection, ye know."
"You wouldn't dare, Sparrow!"
*****************************************
Pirate.
I was pretty sure Sparrow used that word to justify every sleazy thing he did. Then again, he was a pirate and he did things like burglarizing other boats and ravishing maidens and probably terrorizing Peter Pan or something like that.
The jerk had the nerve to tell me that I should be happy he found the leak. He was even more of a jerk for not answering my question about the rats.
As I sat there, thinking Sparrow was a big, stupid jerk and scratching because the darn dress itched, it occurred to me that it was still daylight and Ana wasn't going to get off duty for hours.
God, I needed a Twinkie.