[A/N- my apologies for the wait… life is catching up with me, and- as I hope you can tell- this is a difficult part of the story to write. I almost want to cut it short, and I probably will, but it needs to be understood where Alinnya comes from in all this… especially… well, I better stop there. I'll try to get more in this weekend.]

She wasn't fully sure what to do with her newfound freedom. She was stuck on a ship, wasn't she? There wasn't much to do. There wasn't any hope of her jeopardizing anything, really. Last time, she'd managed to work as a crewman the last time, but she rather doubted she'd be allowed the luxury again. She was stuck. She was bored.

She was exhausted, but she didn't dare sleep. Sleep could mean to many things.

"Good to have you back, lovie," a voice growled in her ear, and she felt a hand grip her hipbone, hard enough to leave a bruise, it was sure. She stared straight ahead, and did her best to ignore Miha's suggestion. He'd get his fill of it tonight, she was sure.

"Miha!" Jonathan's voice rang out over the deck. "If you're that impatient for her, I suppose you'll have to wait until last, eh?"

The first mate retreated, grumbling audibly, and Alinnya found herself face to face with the single most hated man she'd ever spent time with. And she did. She loathed him to the very core of her soul. His eyes traveled down her body in a way that made her feel naked. She suppressed a shudder as she continued to stare at him, as coldly as she could make herself.

It was the one thing she'd never been able to explain to… him. The man in front of her was an expert sadist, and once he was in your system, he was never really out.

"You're growing fat," he smiled at her mischievously, grabbing her by the neck. "We'll have to fix that."

With that, he flung her into the captain's quarters, and before she could regain he balance, she hit the wall with her head.

***

It wasn't uncommon for her to wake up like this. That was the only reason she didn't jerk, didn't squeal, didn't move. For all the time that she had spent outside of his grasp, the old habits were still there.

She kept her breathing as even as she could as the blade sliced through the skin of her stomach. Certainly not deep enough to be dangerous- just enough to be painful.

When the hell had it gotten so cold in here?

She opened her eyes, staring directly at Jonathan's bald head. He was humming some stupid song as he wrote over her skin. And it was writing, though she couldn't read it upsidown. She directed her gaze down her own body, tied onto the bed, and her eyebrows rose in surprise.

Had she been asleep that long?

There were words around her neck, not that she could see, but she could feel the stiffness and stinging of the scratches. There were words down her torso, across her breasts, and he was starting his way down one leg, diligently and slowly scraping with the very tip of a small dagger. She laid her head back, sighing in resignation. She'd dealt with worse.

That's why she wasn't expecting it when the blade dug into the inside of her thigh, and she hissed, tensing momentarily. He wiggled the blade around for a moment before withdrawing, letting the blood run for a few moments before he began mincing the rest of her legs. But she was prepared for it now, and despite the involuntary hitches of breath once in a while, you couldn't tell that anything was happening.

She heard him brush off his hands, and the door opened, and shut.

She closed her eyes for a moment, then they snapped back open. She didn't want to see his eyes. She didn't want to see those damned brown eyes!

The door opened again, and a masculine chuckle was to be heard through the roof. She stared at the planks of the ceiling in silent prayer. It was going to be a long night.

***

Jack was right in his choice. He knew it. But he wasn't sure of the timing. What could he expect from the man he was chasing? Worse… what should he expect from Alinnya? The expression in her blue eyes, feverishly etched in his brain, made him shudder. She was an all or nothing. She would either hang on in sheer hope, or end it as fast as possible. He cringed at the thought of which he would prefer.

"Cap'n?" Josh's voice was distinct against his troubled thoughts. "Cap'n- the crew are restless. They don't want to give chase if there's nothing in it for them."

"Tell them," Jack sighed, his brain firing slower than it ever had, "tell them that she's worth a half share, to be divided amongst them if we get her back, alive."

"Aye, sir," the man disappeared below deck.

"Dammit, woman!" Jack slammed his hand against the helm in frustration. She'd better be worth enough for him to give up such a dream as his own ship.

***

She was doing pretty good. Her face and breasts were bruised past all comfort, and she had at least one black eye, and every inch of skin on her body hurt, but it was worth it so far.

Now if only her mouth didn't taste like blood.

She'd used her teeth on two men that had chosen not to battle between her legs, stared down the four that had chosen to do so, and made lewd suggestions at the one who'd attempted to sodomize her.

She'd hadn't been lying to herself about the whole long night thing.

She bit her lip as the door opened for the final man. Miha. This would be her greatest challenge tonight.

It was already grey in the east.

She hiccupped as he punched her in the gut, knocking the wind out of her, and Jonathan, outside the door, winced slightly, but still grinned at the sound of flesh beating flesh began.