The next day was back to work. After waking up and dressing, Izzy fed the kitten and played with her for a while. He hoped that would tire her out enough so she'd stay quiet. Once the captains and most of the crew were up, they were assigned to cleaning duties. Between the storm and yesterday's celebrations, the ship was quite a mess. The first thing Izzy did was start cleaning up the main deck, which was littered with rum bottles. Toting a bag along with him, he collected the bottles, setting aside any that didn't appear to be opened. Grabbing a stray cork, he went to add it to the bag, but paused. He looked at it before dropping it on the deck again, experimentally. It bounced a bit and rolled on its side. She might like to play with this, he thought. Picking it up again, he snuck it under his leather vest.

The deck took longer to clear than expected, but he finally got the job done. With that taken care of, he decided to take a lap around the ship to see how the rest of the crew was doing. Overhead, Buttons and Wee John were patching the sails. Lucius and Black Pete were nowhere to be found, of course. He made a mental note to shout at them later. Fang and Ivan were checking the rations and storage, making sure they hadn't lost anything in the storm. Wandering below deck, the sound of music filled his ears, and Izzy started off towards the jam room, knowing exactly what he'd find.

"You're supposed to be cleaning and organizing the instruments, not goofing off with them," he snarled.

"Well, yeah, but you gotta make sure they work, right?" Frenchie countered. "After all, no point in keepin' them if if they don't soun—"

Izzy grabbed the instrument and pulled the man up to his feet, roughly. Gritting his teeth, he leaned forwards, intimidatingly. "This room had better be cleaned by the time I get back, or I'll have you scraping barnacles for the next week. Am I clear?"

"Totally clear, crystal clear, Mr. Hands, si—choo!"

Saliva splattered onto Izzy's cheek, suddenly. Frenchie's eyes widened at the sight and he began to sputter. "Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry, I—I didn't even feel it come on. Here, let me just—"rum

He caught Frenchie's wrist before he could touch him, wiping his face off with his glove, pointedly. "If I can't see my reflection in these instruments when I come back, I'll show you how sorry you'll really be."

"Right, yeah, of course, they'll be—" Turning away suddenly, Frenchie buried his face in his inner elbow, sneezing again. And again. Over and over, it was like some kind of fit overtook him.

"Frenchie?" called an ever-irritating voice down the hall. "Is that you I hear, mate?" Footsteps came closer until Stede stood in the doorway. His eyes took in the scene before landing on Izzy. "Everything alright here?"

"Fan-bloody-tastic," he replied sourly, releasing Frenchie's arm.

Holding his gaze for a moment, Stede finally looked at the other man. "That was an awful lot of sneezing I heard. Are you feeling okay?"

"Felt fine a minute ago. Now all of a sudden, my eyes are itchy and I keep—" another sneeze, "—doin' that."

Stede looked concerned and Izzy rolled his eyes. Playing sick to get out of work. He watched as the captain walked up and placed the back of his hand on Frenchie's forehead. "Hmm, you don't feel feverish."

"I'm sure he's fine," Izzy interjected, irritated. "No reason to make a fuss over it, not when there's work to be—"

"Yes, thank you, Nurse Hands," Stede said. "But I'm quite capable of managing the health of my own crew, if you don't mind."

The urge to seize Stede by the front of his ridiculous looking jacket and shove him against the nearest wall came on in a millisecond. But Blackbeard's words rang through his mind like warning bells; Do anything to hurt Stede again, put another toe out of line with me, and you're history. Threat in mind, Izzy clenched his fists at his side and left the room.

Practically stomping down the halls, he stumbled across the Swede, who was coming out of a nearby storage room. "You there! The hell are you up to?" Izzy shouted, eyeing the man.

"I was sweepin'," the Swede said plainly. "I just finished all the bedrooms, so I put the broom back." His grubby fingers pointed into the storage room, where the broom stood in the corner.

Izzy glanced at it before looking back at the man. "Fine," he surrendered. In the mood he was in, he'd been ready to shout at the Swede for not working. "Head up on deck and start re-rigging the sails then. Get to it!"

Swede nodded before quickly making his way up to the main deck, stumbling on the steps. Izzy rolled his eyes before adjusting his vest and carrying on. At least the halfwit actually did some work, he thought. Should check out the bedrooms, though, make sure he actually did a decent—His train of thought derailed suddenly, but sped up just as fast, in a different direction. Turning on his heels, Izzy made a mad dash towards the bedrooms. From down the hall he could see it: Swede has been in his room. And the door had been left wide open.

Any remaining frustration spawned into fear. His eyes scanned the room in a hurry, but she wasn't anywhere in sight. Izzy's knees hit the floor as he crouched down to search under the bed. Not even dust bunnies looked back at him. "Fuck," he growled, as his head began to swim. Damn cat's walkin' around in broad daylight, someone's bound to see her. And when they do, they'll get Edward and he'll . . . I don't know what he'll do anymore!

Nearly hitting his head as he got up again, Izzy headed back down the hallways, hoping that maybe, maybe he wasn't too late. If he was quick, he might be able to catch the cat before she was spotted. Roaming the ship, he looked for any signs: fur, scratches on the wall, something that would tell him where she'd gone. She was in the dining room last time. Maybe she went back to a familiar space.

Heading back below deck, he made a beeline for the room. It was exactly how he'd left it the day before, organized and tidy. Making sure she wasn't under the table, Izzy got up again and left the room as quick as he'd come. He skipped over checking the jam room, since he'd just been there, and couldn't find her in the rec room either.

Room by room, hall by hall, Izzy scoured the ship. He was trying to keep a low profile the best he could, but the worry in him was growing by the minute. Eventually, he made his way down to the galley. Roach was asleep in the corner, holding an arm full of onions like some kind of security blanket. Looking around, Izzy noticed the galley was very nearly spotless. The counter was washed of any stains, the floor was swabbed and dried, and the dishes were . . . Shit.

The mountain of dirty dishes had transformed into a mountain of clean dishes. And the kitten seemed to think she was quite the mountain climber.

Izzy stared in horror as tiny paws ascended up the pile of pots and pans. Looking to Roach to make sure he was still asleep, he slowly made his way towards the cat. His boots stepped silently, making sure to not startle the cat or wake the cook. Slowly, he reached out an arm, preparing to grab her. The kitten paused her climb, noting his approach. Ears perking up, she took a step towards him, her paw landing on a pot handle. From that movement alone, Izzy saw what was about to happen and knew he couldn't do a thing to prevent it.

The dishes came toppling down off the counter, landing on the floor with an unimaginable cacophony. Izzy jumped back, clenching his jaw at the horrid sound. In the corner, Roach had sprung to his feet, shouting at the sound. In the mess of dishes, Izzy caught a glimpse of a ball of white racing out of the room. Finally, the last pot clattered to the floor. Silence suddenly fell over the galley.

"I just cleaned all that," Roach said at last. "What the hell just happened? Izzy, did you—where are you going?"

Izzy ignored the cook's voice calling after him. He'd just had the cat and now she was gone again. Heading up to the main deck, he found more of the crew, which only worsened his worry. Ed and Stede were sitting on the upper deck, leaning against the pole of the crow's nest and talking. Oluwande and Jim were sitting on the floor, eating sandwiches. Buttons was near them, staring off into the distance with Karl on his head. In the corner of the deck, Wee John was asleep, a mop standing next to him against the railing. Normally, finding a second crew member asleep on the job would make Izzy furious. At the moment, though, he considered it a blessing. He was also quite thankful that Wee John was a heavy sleeper, or else he may have felt the kitten crawling up his body. Leaping off of the man's shoulder, she jumped up onto the side of the ship, staring down at the water.

This was bad. So many people were on deck, one of them being Edward, and she was in plain sight. He knew he needed to be quick about this, but not draw any attention to either of them. Risking a glance up at Ed, he saw he was engrossed in whatever Stede was talking about. The one time I want Bonnet to keep him distracted, he thought. He looked back over to the kitten, trying to think of how to get her and get back to his room without anyone seeing. She was staring at the sea, her tail swishing behind her, quickly. Her eyes were wide with interest, and she lowered her head, like she might—Fuck!

Izzy raced across the deck, his boots sliding some on the freshly swabbed deck. The cat had jumped, her body quickly disappearing out of sight. Without hesitation, Izzy dove off the side of the Revenge. The sea breeze hit him hard as he fell, and the cold water shocked every cell in his body when he reached it. Bringing his head above water, feet kicking quickly, he frantically searched for her. The waves were choppy, making it hard to see anything at all. Where is she? Fuck, where is she?! I can't see a damn thing, did she get dragged under? Where the FUCK is—

A small meow interrupted his panicked spiral.

Looking up towards the ship, he saw her. She was sitting on the suspended plank of wood they sat on when scraping barnacles off the ship. It was only a few feet below the side of the boat. She caught his eye and tilted her head, curiously. Fuck me, she's okay, he thought, like some part of his mind still needed convincing. The tension in his body started to wash out into the water.

"MAN OVERBOARD!"

. . . Shit.

Looking up to the ship again, he saw Wee John and a few others staring down at him. So much for not drawing attention. "Izzy!" bellowed Wee John. "Are you okay?!"

"Come on, get the rope ladder down!" Oluwande ordered.

Once the ladder was lowered, he swam over and started to climb, keeping one eye on the kitten. Thankfully, everyone on deck seemed to be too focused on Izzy to even notice her. I need to get her off of that, she could fall. But first, I need to find a way to explain why I just tossed myself off the bloody ship.

Rung by rung, he tried to think of what he was going to say. All too soon, he was back on the deck, where a crowd had now formed. Almost immediately, he was hit by a barrage of questions: what happened? Was he okay? Did a siren pull him into the sea? Suddenly, one voice cut through them all like a knife.

"Alright, alright, let me through!" Ed ordered. He made his way through the crowd, Stede in tow, until he stood right in front of Izzy. "Iz," he began. "You alright? What the hell happened, mate?"

For a moment, the only sound was the water dripping off of Izzy's clothes and onto the deck. Normally, lying came easily to him. But lying to his captain's face, to Edward . . . that was always harder.

Folding his hands in front of him, Izzy straightened and began to spin his tale. "Mr. Feeny was asleep on the job. I was on my way to wake him, but the deck has been swabbed recently—" he gestured over to the mop in the corner, "—and my boots slid right out from under me. Fell right off the side." He felt his chest tighten as he waited for someone in the crowd to object to that. Surely, someone must have seen that he'd jumped, not fallen, right? But silence returned again.

Blackbeard arched a brow, staring him down. Something in that look made Izzy feel about two feet tall in comparison. His mind began to spin, thinking that his lie wouldn't hold. The captain started to open his mouth, but Stede's voice piped up from behind him. "It does seem to be quite wet in some areas," the blonde man said, shuffling a shoe on the deck. "We really need to make sure we're drying the deck off after it's mopped."

Ed's eyes looked to Stede, then to the deck, and finally back at Izzy. "Right," he said quietly. "Accidents happen, then. Get dried off and be more careful. Everyone else, as you were!" And just as quick as he'd come, Ed turned and walked away. Stede followed, and Izzy heard him suggest something about making a sign to show when the deck was wet. The rest of the crew dispersed, some of them mumbling quietly. Izzy watched them all turn away, taking a few small steps himself. Once he was as sure as he could be that no one was looking, he reached down over the ship's side and snatched the kitten up. Having nowhere to put her, he held her close to his body and did his best to conceal her in his arms, making his way to his room quickly.

The second the door closed behind him, he let go of the breath he'd apparently been holding. "Shit, shit, shit," he said to himself. He didn't believe me. I could tell in his face, he was looking right through me. He knows I lied, just didn't have any evidence to call me out on it. Now he's gonna be watching me. Why is it that I can only keep Edward's attention when I don't want it?

The kitten squirmed in his hand, as if to remind him she was there. He brought her up to his face, glaring. "What the hell were you thinking? One slip, and you were sleepin' with the fucking sharks! And now you've gone and got Edward's eyes on me. Do you know what he'll do if someone spots you? What am I supposed to do if you get caught, you little—"

The strange sandpaper sensation suddenly returned as the cat licked the tip of his nose. Like a wave crashing onto the shore, Izzy's anger was washed away. Sighing, he set the cat onto the ground and began to change out of his sea-soaked clothing.

As he began to remove his leather vest, something fell to the floor. Glancing down, he found the cork he'd picked up that morning at his foot. Forgot about that. Surprised it didn't get lost in the ocean. Looking over to the cat, he saw her staring at the cork with deep curiosity. He kicked it over towards her, and it rolled across the room. She pounced, quickly, trying to get a hold on the small object. The cork bounced and rolled enough to keep her chasing and swatting after it. Izzy smirked at the sight. If he noticed, he did nothing to fight it.

Once he was in dry clothes again, Izzy made sure the kitten was still entertained with the new toy before slipping out of the room. He kept his head down the rest of the day, hoping to avoid Edward. He busied himself with a few more cleaning jobs as the hours slipped away. Once dinner was through, he figured he could grab the kitten her food and hide out in his room for the rest of the evening. But about halfway to the galley, he remembered: he had a Swedish man to skin.

Changing direction, he made his way up the stairs before making a beeline for the Swede. He was near the sails—which were not properly rigged—and talking with Black Pete. There wasn't a captain in sight. Grabbing the back of the man's gruby shirt, he turned him quickly and pressed him against the mast. The Swede let out a short shriek as he did so.

"Stay the fuck outta my room," Izzy snarled. "You so much as think about opening that damn door, I'll toss your ass off this ship before you can blink an eye, understand?"

"You can read my mind?!" Swede asked, panicked.

"Have I made myself clear, or not?!"

"Y—yes, sir!"

"The hell did you see when you were in there?!"

"Nothing!" Swede said. "Except for a bed! And a dresser. But I didn't go in it, I promise!"

"What the hell do you think he was doing? Rifling through your panties?" Black Pete asked with a snicker. "Believe me, Izzy, no one here's dyin' to know whatever you get up to behind closed doors." His laughter was cut off by the sound of Izzy's bare hand smacking against his bald head.

Releasing the Swede, Izzy decided that the man was too idiotic to have noticed anything that might cause him trouble. Should almost thank the twat for forgetting to sweep under the bed. "Fix that shit, both of you," he told them, pointing up to the rigging. "That's not how it goes." And without another word, Izzy marched back down towards the galley again.

When he stepped back into his bedroom, the kitten abandoned the cork and walked up to him, as if he'd been gone all day. Reaching down, his bare hand stroked her back a few times before giving her a handful of berries and a few pieces of leftover chicken, which she ate happily. When it was time to sleep at last, Izzy picked up the kitten and set her in her usual place on the bed. The minute he laid down, he realized just how exhausted the events of the day had made him. Closing his eyes, he tried not to think about Ed's growing suspicion or anything else for that matter. He did his best to ignore the feeling of tiny paws walking up the mattress. That became impossible, though, when said tiny paws were suddenly on his chest.

Opening an eye, he found the cat staring at him before she finally laid down. He brought up a hand, likely with the thought to move her, but it ended up just laying on top of her. For some reason that caused the kitten to start making an odd vibrating sound. She's being a suck up now, to make up for scaring me earlier, he thought halfheartedly. Even still, his thumb reached up to pet her head.

Izzy met her gaze as the cat continued to stare at him. Her eyes were shining in the dark, like the largest sapphires he'd ever seen. She started to blink at him, slowly, almost as if she were falling asleep. But it was rhythmic, like there was intent behind it. An inexplicable smile came to Izzy's face as he watched her, and a sudden contentedness came over him. He allowed his own eyes to close for a moment before opening them again, mimicking the cat's blinking back to her. The warm, calm feeling remained with him as he continued, until his eyes finally became too heavy to open again.

A/N: The second I saw that cats show love by blinking slow, I knew that was going in the story somewhere.

We're almost done! Two more chapters!