A/N: Thank you to all my wonderful readers out there. It is greatly appreciated. Sorry this chapter is so late. My days off were changed due to the holiday, adn my boss wanted Friday off. Anyway, this chapter was once upon a time longer, and it didn't exactly do what it was suppose to. I may be late again next week, because Chapter 17 is a delicate chapter, adn I really want to do it right. Chapter 17 is more of an action chapter than a humorous chapter, so be forewarned. Just a bit of suspense there for you! So, this chapter is again another transitional chapter.

PeiPei, a lot of this chapter is because of that last review you left. I hope most of your questions are answered. :)

Chapter 16: Reprimands and Rewards

Marita, being used to rising at the ungodly pre-dawn hour of the morning was still up and about at still an unreasonably early hour of the morning, although she considered herself to be quite late for her normal routine. Nothing was lost, though. The bakery was not opened on Saturdays. She did not find opening on this particular day profitable, so she usually didn't do it. She usually spent this day of the week with her daughter in entertainment and teaching her her lessons. Of course, this particular Saturday, she had pressing business with that 5'8" (if he stood up to his full true height) rowdy ornery cretinous pile of slag. So, she went to the men's room. When she opened the door, she found the room incredibly stuffy. This condition obviously did not bother the snoring tenants. Lucy sat up alert on Pintel's bed as the mistress of the household crossed the room to the window, in which she threw back the curtains and opened the window wide. The older man groaned and turned over away from the streaming bright light. Ragetti was unaffected. She puzzled over why they would keep the window closed all of a sudden, but she did not dwell on this long. She had more important things to occupy her time, and trying to figure these two men out was a waste of her precious time.

She bodily yanked the obnoxious pirate out of his bed and dropped him unceremoniously on the floor. She was unsure of what she could say or do to impress upon him the severity of his position. She really did not want to dismiss him. It was quite nice to have someone take care of the bakery while she attended to other matters, like the purchasing and delivery of the bakery goods. The thought of turning the criminal over to the commodore and his men crossed her mind, but she quickly chased the thought away. She more often than not threatened the older man with just that. The animosity that she felt towards him, though, was not enough for her to truly wish to see him on the end of a rope. Regardless of his flippant behavior and ornery bawdiness, she would hate to admit that she actually liked the dirty stubborn old man. He was, after all, an outlet for her anger.

She looked over at Ragetti, who was sleeping soundly and snoring uproariously on his stomach with his right hand thrown off of the bed and touching the floor. His left leg was hanging off the opposite side of the bed. His sighted left side of his face was buried deep into the pillow, so that when the sudden flood of light came into the room, it did not bother his repose at all. His splayed curling hair, covering the pillow, that he clutched so lovingly in his arms, had turned from a light golden brown, that it was when he first arrived and bathed, to a golden blonde with the regular cleaning and the sun exposure with his outside chores. She smiled at him. His ears were kind of big and obtrusive, and his somewhat large nose and overbite kind of gave him a goofy look, but she still was pleased with him. (She would have been a little less happy, if she examined him closer and found out what he was clutching under that pillow.) He did no wrong last night, although she was not sure she approved of the song that he taught her daughter, but it was not all that offensive. She frowned. She could not be rid of Pintel for his sake. The goofy taller pirate looked up at him kind of like a father figure, and he would have been lost without him. She sighed. She had never truly knew that feeling, but she had seen oit on many others. Shaking her head, she decided to let him continue to sleep out the morning.

Slapping Lucy on the rear, she got the lazy dog up, and he, in turn, got Pintel awake. After the morning run about and bath, Pintel was dragged into the kitchen, where he was forced to listen to her lecture. None of this noise or activity woke Ragetti, as he continued to sleep and dream in a not so PG-13 manner.

About an hour later found Pintel sitting at the table in the kitchen. He was leaning back in the chair with his feet propped on the table, and he was picking something disgusting out of his teeth. She sighed exasperated and crossed her arms, as she shook her head in disgust, as she glared holes into him. She paced the floor. The man was a vile lowlife good for nothing pig. Where to begin? What to say? He never took any of her other reprimands seriously, and she feared that this time would be no different, but she had to try.

"Henry Pintel, do you know where I spent a good portion of last night?" she asked severely.

The older pirate cringed from within and fell back in the chair from her tone. Marita rolled her eyes. The thief's wife, mother, father, and other asundrious persons of superiority used only his first and last name together when he was really in trouble. He frowned and swallowed down his misgivings to give into his defiant self, as he glared up at her. He got up and grabbed his chair. He sat back down with a fierce gaze at her.

"I be no woman, so I don't be knowin' where a woman be partyin'. Ye weren't at the liquor store, so beats me," he replied, "Is there one those male cat houses 'bouts town."

She fumed. With an effort, she kept her voice level. "Stealing the commodore's sword and pistol both on the same day was not the brightest of moves. You will be getting us all hanged with your antics," she told him in a forced calm voice, "It is a crime in this city to harbor a known pirate, you know that?"

"It ain't been proved that I be a pirate, now 'as it," he replied with a rotten tooth grin, "and 'sides ye be likin' the one of us that be bearin' that mark a bit too much."

"He knows how to keep his head low for a bit, unlike others. You would prefer that your friend take all the blame for your actions?" she asked blatantly, "You would want Tony to hang for your crimes?"
"'E ain't all that innocent of me crimes, ya know. 'Sides, I be gettin' him out of it. I be good fer that."

"And what about Estella and me? I am the one who got you out of the irons. It would have been just as easy for me to turn you over to the law then."

"But ye di'n't. now did ye," he answered cannily, "And why might that be, I be wonderin'?"

"That is my own business," she snapped, "If it endangers my daughter and me, I can just as easily get you jailed now."
The man squinted his eyes up at her. "But ye can't, now can ye?" he stated, "It be gettin' ye in 'eaps of trouble, now wouldn't it."

"Norrington has been most sympathetic to me, even before Karl's untimely end," she told him flatly, "I could always claim that you lied to me about who you were, and I discovered Tony's brand by accident one day. He would give me the benefit of a doubt just to hang a couple of miscreants such as yourselves."

Pintel's devious smile did not fade. "Oh, but ye be missin' the both of us, wouldn't ye? 'O would ye yellin' at all the time without me 'round?"

She bit her lip and turned from him. "You can just leave. Maybe I don't need either of your services. After all, I did fine before you bumbled into my yard."

"Bah!" he spat, "Ye like us. Be done with it and admit it!"
She turned on him so suddenly with such venom in her eyes, that he thought he would fall from the chair again. He jumped back in the defensive. He held up his hands to shield himself from her attack.

"All right!" he confessed, " I will see if I can control meself as long as I get to keep Gillette's pistol."

She frowned. Couldn't that man keep a hold of his blasted pistol. That was the third time this week the pirate had acquired it, and the man had not entered the bakery once this week. "Alright," she agreed, "I don't know anything about the lieutenant's pistol. Happy?"

"How 'bouts a pay raise?" he suggested with a bright grin.

"How about a foot in an uncomfortable place?"

He grinned wider. She blew out an exasperated breath and threw up her hands. She turned her back on him, and he made a rude gesture, that should not be made to a lady. She paused and turned back to look at him. Puzzled a moment, she shook her head and returned to her progression to their room to finally wake up Ragetti. It was well past noon, and she felt that not only would the man like to make arrangements for his reading lesson, but he would like to get a meal or two in there. After all, between the two men, he was the one, who was most fond of food.

The tall lanky pirate was not that hard to wake up, given the fact that he was already awake, had shaven and was dressed. He sat on the edge of his bed and was combing out his hair. She went over to him and sat down next to him. He jumped startled and stopped what he was doing. He turned to face her and gave a nervous smile, like he had been caught doing something that he shouldn't have been doing. She smiled at him and tousled his hair. His face burned brightly, but he didn't pull away from her.

"You have the fastest growing hair I have ever seen," she complained.

"Uh, sorry 'bout that. I think it be all this cleanin' bit, ya know. It be bad fer the 'ealth, and makes the 'air grow like weeds," he answered. He bent over to the nightstand and groveled around for his eye.

Marita frowned at him. "Why do you keep a dirty sock and a flower in the same cup as your eye?" she asked.

"I wants it to feel at 'ome," he replied happily, "I mean, I like flowers and dirty socks in me room."

She got up and pulled the two pieces out of the cup. "That is probably why the thing itches you so much. Ever consider that?"

"Uh," he answered as he scratched his head, "I ne'er thought of that."

She took the wooden eye from his hand and fetched some water from the kitchen. She rinsed the item and returned it to him. He smiled up at her. "Most women I know be rather squeamish 'bout me eye. They think it gross."

"It is," she answered bluntly, "But I have dealt with worse things."

"Oh," he acknowledged.

"Henry is going to be nice to you today and do your chores," she told him, "And I want to start teaching you to read."

A light showed in his real eye, and he chimed, "Ya really are goin' to go through with it, ma'am!"

"Of course," she replied reassuringly, as she took his hands and knelt before him, "There is no sin in wanting to better yourself."

He felt his insides twist in an unseemly way, and he had to swallow that growing lump in his throat. "And ya gonna teach me . . .yerself?" he inquired wide eyed.

"Yes," she answered, as she squeezed his hands. Before the butterflies could manifest themselves fully in his stomach and other places best unmentioned, a glint of gold caught the bakery mistress' eye. Her brow furrowed as she asked, "Is that one of my earrings you are wearing?"

"Uh . . ." he replied.