Of course Stede Bonnet had to suggest a name.

When Izzy Hands had convinced everyone on the Revenge to keep the cat onboard, he thought the hardest part was over. He realized quite quickly though, that he would need to call her something now. Hard as he tried, he couldn't come up with a halfway decent name. He'd never been very creative that way. Some of the men offered to help, but Izzy dismissed them, saying he wasn't taking suggestions.

It was Stede who'd stepped in and changed that. He'd approached Izzy one day, when he was sitting on the deck with the kitten on his lap.

"You two make quite the pair. Literally, if you think about it." the captain had said. When Izzy'd given him a look, he'd elaborated. "I was just noticing her odd little paw. The front one with the black fur. It almost reminds me of that leather glove you always wear. It makes her look like she's wearing one of her own, just on the other side. So together, you make a pair!" He smiled at him for a moment before his eyes widened a little. "Perhaps that's what you could call her. Glove!"

"The fuck kind of name is—" Izzy had forced himself to bite his tongue. He was doing his best to keep his end of the deal and be more respectful towards the man. "I'm not sure Glove really works."

"Yes, I suppose it is a bit strange. Besides, the glove you wear is cold and dark. She's all soft and furry. More like a, um . . . " He snapped his fingers. "A mitten!"

". . . A mitten."

"Yes!" Stede nodded, happily. "Mittens are soft and warm, just like her. Oh! And mittens go with . . ."

He'd paused here, like he was waiting for Izzy to complete the thought.

Izzy didn't.

"Hands," Stede finally finished. Again, Izzy had stared at him, not sure how to respond. Stede had cleared his throat and sheepishly said, "Just a suggestion, of course," before walking away

Izzy did his best to forget the entire interaction almost immediately.

The next morning, he fed the kitten and himself before making his rounds on deck. The cat followed at his heels, greeting everyone they bumped into. "Morning, boss," said Fang, before following with a high-pitched, "Hello, kitty!" He kneeled down to pet her, and the cat swished her tail, happily. "Have you got a name yet?"

"No," Izzy grumbled into his coffee.

Stede and Ed popped up on deck soon after that. The Revenge was docked so that Izzy could get the cat some more supplies. Lucius asked if he could go as well. "I'm serious, I'm framing that contact," he said smugly. "Oh! Maybe I'll get a frame for this, too!" He whirled his sketchbook around to show the drawing he'd done of Izzy, who looked stiff and irritated. Mainly because he had been stiff and irritated.

"Put that away," Izzy snapped, "or I'll leave you at the docks."

Thankfully, Lucius was mercifully quiet as they rowed to land. Once there, the scribe went off to find what he needed, leaving Izzy alone. He walked into the busy market in search of cat supplies. Though he was a bit out of his element, he ended up filling a decent sized basket with things for her.

"Spoiling her already?" Lucius asked, walking up to him. A wooden frame was tucked under his arm, and he eyed the supplies Izzy had collected.

"I'm not spoiling shit," he said. "I only got what I needed."

To his horror, the young man gave a smirk to him and picked up the small, plush mouse from the basket. "For practice!" Izzy defended, snatching the toy back. "She needs to learn to catch any rats that get onto the ship, remember?" Lucius only hummed in response. Izzy rolled his eyes and put the plush animal back into the basket.

"You know," the scribe began as they walked. "I never would have guessed you'd be the type to own a cat. Figured you'd go more for, like, a snake or something."

"If your captain caught sight of a snake, I think he'd piss himself."

"Mm, probably," he mused. "I've never had a pet, actually. Most of them would be hard to take care of, especially on a ship. A dog would need a lot of exercise, lizards kind of creepy me out—Oh! A chinchilla."

Izzy finally turned to look at Lucius, who looked like he'd just had the best idea in the world. "The fuck's a chinchilla?"

"They're cute little balls of fluff! They're friendly, and soft, and they just sleep the whole day away," Lucius explained. "Do you think if I asked nicely, Blackbeard would let me get a chinchilla?"

"You are a chinchilla, Spriggs."

Once they were back on the ship, Lucius went off with his frame while Izzy went to his room and sorted through the supplies. It was fairly simple, since most of the things belonged in his room anyway. The only outlier was the herbal remedy for Frenchie's allergies. Grabbing it, he started up towards the main deck to find him.

A majority of the crew was on deck when Izzy got there, meandering about. Izzy spotted Frenchie sitting beneath the crow's nest, muttering to himself. His lute lay silent in his lap. "Grittin', spittin' . . . written? No, I used that one."

"Do I want to know what you're doing?" Izzy asked, even though the answer was clearly "nothing".

Frenchie turned to him quickly, like he hadn't seen him coming, and sat up a little. "Oh, hey, maybe you can help!" he said. "Cap'n Bonnet said I should channel my fear of cats into a song to make me feel better. So I'm trying to write one about yours. But I'm out of rhymes for 'kitten'. Do you know any?"

"No," he said. Which was a blatant lie, but Izzy just wanted an easy out from the conversation. "Just take this, and quit sneezing on me."

Frenchie took the herbal remedy from Izzy's glove with a grin. "Aw, cheers, mate! Hard to sing when I keep sniffilin''."

"Do you know where the cat is?"

"Nowhere around here. That thing still spooks me, even if it's not a witch."

Grumbling, Izzy looked toward the sky and shouted, "Mr. Buttons!" The man's head appeared from the crow's nest a moment later. "Do you have eyes on the cat?"

"Sorry, Mr. Hands," Buttons yelled. "I cannae hear ya!"

At Izzy's feet, Frenchie had gone back to spitting out words, which only added more noise. "Zitten . . . crittin' . . . bitten. . . "

He cupped his glove around his mouth and tried again. "Have you seen my cat?!"

"The wind keeps takin' it! One more time!"

"Spittin', quittin', fittin'."

"I said!"

"Smitten, pittin', sittin'."

"Have! You seen!"

"Fit in, split in—"

"Mitten?!"

Izzy's teeth bit down on his traitorous tongue. He had not just said that. He had not given life to Stede's suggestion, he had not said—

"Mitten?" Frenchie parroted. "That's what you named it?" Izzy opened his mouth, but closed it quickly, before it could do any more damage. He watched as the young man brightened, suddenly. "That's perfect! There's my rhyme, 'mitten' and 'kitten'!"

Fuck. Now it's gonna catch on, he thought, as if he hadn't just shouted it across the ocean.

"Sorry, Mr. Hands," called Buttons, reminding Izzy he was there. "We haven't seen yer wee one about! Karl said he'd be happy to help yee search, though!"

"No!" said as exasperated Izzy, before forcing out, "Thank you!" And he marched away, trying not to think about how he'd just thanked a seagull.

"'Ey, Hands!" shouted Jim from across the deck. "Little Mitten Kitten went below deck."

Cringing a little because of course Jim heard that whole exchange, he nodded to them and made his way below.

After wandering for a while, Izzy spotted a door that was open just enough for a certain someone to fit through it. The captains' quarters. Of course. Exactly where she's not supposed to be. Sighing, he approached the door and slowly pushed it open a little more. The room was silent as he stepped inside. No more than ten steps in, he spotted her. The kitten was curled up in front of the massive safety hazard known as the fireplace. Her paws, both black and white, were tucked under her head.

Damnit. It does look like a mitten.

He approached her, but froze suddenly, catching Ed's face out of the corner of his eye. He snapped towards him, having not realized he was there.

Ed, however, had no idea Izzy was there either. His eyes were closed lightly, and his body was sprawled across Stede's bed. Stede, for his part, was asleep as well, his head partially on Ed's shoulder. They were laying on top of the sheets, as if they'd just collapsed there and passed out. A sour taste rose in the back of Izzy's throat as he looked at them, but it passed quickly. Turning away, he went to get what he came for.

Mitten's eyes popped open as Izzy scooped her up, easily. She leaned into his chest, bringing a warmth to it he was starting to get used to. Without another thought, Izzy walked out of the room and quietly closed the door on Ed and Stede.

A/N: Do *NOT* ask me how many times I rewrote the part where Izzy says the cat's name. I did it so many times. But it had to be perfect! The glove symbolism!

Anyway, thank you all for reading my first (but not last) Our Flag Means Death fanfiction. This was such a fun thing to write, and I'm a bit sad to have to end it now. But I appreciate all the love this story has gotten! Thank you so much.

Finally, this cat gave me brain rot for months, so here's a list of things I came up with that weren't plot relevant:

- Mitten chases the mop when they try to clean the deck. It turns into a game with the crew, and Izzy is very pleased to see that the cat found a way to get them to work.
- Lucius has many, MANY drawing of her.
- Frenchie makes a song about her.
- When Izzy has to take the night watches, Mitten stays up with him.
- "Izzy, Mitten's asleep on the map and I don't know where we're going." "Don't wake her, we'll wing it."
- Izzy let's Fang play with Mitten because he feels a bit guilty about the whole "shoot your dog" thing now.

Thanks for reading!