The sunset was incredible. The sun seemed so large it lit up the entire horizon with its dark fading rays. Slowly sinking into the seas depths, extinguished for the day. Never has she seemed a more wondrous sight. Never was dusk so beautiful.

Liz had the pleasure to see the view as she walked tiredly across the ship's deck. She was sulking, and she had very good reason. Her arms were sore, her back ached and her knees scorched from the wood friction where she knelt for the better half of the day. Calluses were beginning to burn her delicate fingers and she even feared she was sunburned.

Never had she had to endure such hardship. She had always led such as easy going life, full of shopping and balls and picnics in the park. This was torture to her. Indeed she always tried to do things for herself, with her compassionate heart, wanting to relieve the servants. But this....this was completely unexpected.

Anyone looking at her now would think her nothing of a well bred lady. Her fatigue had succeeded in misplacing her mind and she found that what she was feeling was utter joy that it was indeed the end of the day. She was now following a stout man who called himself Whimsy. A peculiar name, she thought. Yet one oddly suitable for him. He was reasonably short, his eyes were a care free blue, his hair had grown past his shoulders, a black beard occupied his stubble chin and from what the breeches and shirt, all stained and in terrible need of a scrub, he could see hair everywhere! Indeed it seemed like he cared not a whim! About what he looked like...

Liz followed with a small reluctant smile on her lips.

Suddenly it felt like a dark cloud loomed overhead, promptly turning a beautiful dusk into immediate night. The shadow fell on Liz and she looked up, a chill running down her spine, to face its owner. He stood a good shoulder above her, forcing her to crane her neck upward. The painful movement, after such a hard day's work, made her wince. It did not go unnoticed by him.

Max lifted his hand and ran his fingers lightly at the back of her neck. Liz's eyes widened and she jerked back. He drew back and looked grim.

"How are you?" he asked harshly. Liz's eyes glazed over with hidden pain and anger.

"Fine" she replied stiffly. He nodded, seemingly satisfied. They stood staring at each other. Whimsy who stood, distracting himself from the intriguing sight, was suddenly forgotten. Everything seemed to dim and fade into the background.

Max's eyes glinted. He made to move towards her, hands reaching out, then stopped, turned and strode away. Liz was left in a daze, her heart beating fanatically, her pulse racing. She was also confused. Was this fear making her shiver? Yet when she gazed into those pair of hard and unrelenting brown eyes, she felt her breath catch in her throat.

She watched his confident stride as he moved away. He seemed so strong so wild. Indeed he seemed to dominate his ship just like a true master of the seas. He never tripped, never stumbled on the wobbling deck, instead he seemed to simply...flow akin the water beneath him. A true captain, a master at his own game, a ruthless pirate.

"If you'll follow me" a rough, heavy accented voice cut through her thoughts. She jumped slightly, startled. She turned to see Whimsy looking at her in a curious manner that made her flush. What an embarrassment....to be caught staring at ones captor.....albeit a handsome one.

She shook her head once to clear those unpleasant thoughts and followed after Whimsy. As she finally acknowledged their destination, she froze. Whimsy seemed to have noticed the lack of a second footing behind him because he too stopped and looked back at her questioningly.

"Where are you taking me?" Liz demanded, her voice quivering.

"Down below deck miss" he answered patiently, noting the distress in her tone.

"Yes I gathered that" she replied somewhat sarcastically. "What I want to know is where you will be taking me after that."

He raised a contemplative bushy eyebrow in her direction, his mind analyzing the young woman before him. She was no doubt a beauty to look at. She was petite, slender, and graceful. There was also this air about her, one of dignity and respectfulness mixed with one with mischief and pride. It gave her a spicy appeal. One that neither he nor the rest of the crew failed to notice. They all surely wouldn't mind having a go at her, uncover her nature in the most delightful way. The captain had in no way made a claim on her....indeed all he did was put her to work like a slave and throw her in the care of his crew.

"To your room" he finally replied, as they began to descend the narrow steps, and once again Liz was enveloped in the dimness of the small hallway. Suddenly trepidation hit her and fear blossomed from within. Events from the night before flashed before her eyes. Her breathing started to quicken, her legs misbalancing. Suddenly she was feeling faint.

'Oh god no. oh god no' Liz thought dreadfully. 'Oh help me somebody. Anybody. Please...Maria...oh someone...no' she chanted incoherently to herself. Her prayer ceased however when they passed the domineering wooden door that had once held her captive. Liz felt herself tingle at the memory.

It was horrible. To be almost raped.....seduced...whatever he wanted to call it. It was horrible. His touch that inflamed her, had left a burning mark of embarrassment and humiliation. How could she have responded to such cruelty? Why did she at that moment seem to forget what he was to her and could only think of what he was doing to her?

It was something about him, she was sure. Was it his good looks? His attractively low voice? His idea of imprisonment and his reluctance of careness...however uncaring he might make it sound?...no matter...she had brought his upon herself and she must find a way to extract herself from it.

What she could not help but know though...is that he had said that he wanted her. A shiver ran through her at the thought. She had thought herself pleasing on the eyes....even attractive. Her parents praised her beauty and she believed them when she found she could make head turn. That pirate was no different. Falling under he so called spell, as her parents always commented about the hopeful eligible young men that graced their doorstep. Expect this time...there were no honorable intentions.

Liz knew about 'making love' and how that was how babies came into the world. Her mother had sat her down one day and dutifully explained it to her, as a mother should. Liz had however noticed clearly the hesitancy and anxiety in her voice. Liz was sure that her mother did not want to be having this conversation.

Liz had been vastly annoyed at her mother for that. It was as if she did not want her own daughter to know the way she came to be and such details. It irritated her to think about how over protective her parents are. Always treating her like an innocent child watching the world unfold before with wide eyes, and her parents casting a suffocating wing around her.

Let nobody mistake her though. She loved her parents dearly, but sometimes she wished they would simply disappear. Her wish had come true, in a rather twisted way, she mused wryly.

After a few more turns they arrived at another door and stopped. Whimsy opened the door which creaked slightly and led the way inside. Liz followed into the room. A tiny bed, a small rug, a porthole, and a wash basin were the only occupants. Liz was shocked at the difference between the two rooms she had been in so far. This was so....well she could not really find the words now...but really...what else did she expect? she was a prisoner thief not a lady guest.

"This is it" Whimsy declared and looked thoughtfully at her expression." Not what you expected i gather" he remarked. Liz looked to him.

"Certainly not"

Whimsy nodded. "I bet you're used to the luxuries on land and the comfortable bed for your leisure" he continued. Liz was sure that was a rude comment but it left her confused as well...so she answered truthfully.

"Yes. Indeed" she answered a bit stiffly. Whimsy grinned, to her further puzzlement.

"I am sure though it will be worth your while here too. We will make it so for sure" he declared.

"We?"

"Why the crew and i 'course"

Liz took a moment "Oh. I see" but she did not see at all.

"Yep, we'll be sure to make you as comfortable as possible" he smiled" makes the ride all the more enjoyable"

Ride? 'I suppose he means the ship' she thought. "Well...uh thank you sir" she replied uncertainly. Whimsy bowed gallantly, as though he were a true gentleman, and started for the door.

"I'll be sure to start tonight miss. I'll go ahead and bring dessert with dinner" he winked and shut the door behind her. Liz waited for the expected key in lock. It came and the man's footsteps began to slowly fade until silence followed.

For some reason her brief conversation with Whimsy left her unnerved and she started to pace restlessly across the room in agitation.

That continued on for the next few hours until exhaustion won out and she landed gratefully on the small bed. Closing her eyes she fell into a deep disturbing sleep with images of amber eyes and a dark handsome stranger.

CLING CLING

She stirred. The stranger had her in an embrace. Her feelings enlivened by his tuoch.

CLINK CLINK

Liz sat up abruptly, quickly dissolving the dream into the back of her mind, as she noted that the door is about to open. Before she had time to gather her wits a young man walked in with a tray of food and quickly set it down on the floor. Liz supposed that he would leave her to her dinner but he just straightened and gave her a look that straightened the hair on the back of her neck.

He was in his late twenties, she surmised. She had spotted him working amongst the crew today. He was indeed a striking figure. Dark brown hair that fell over his eyes and hazel eyes that seemed to look her up and down with just a flick. He was big. A good few inches taller than her, muscles bulging out everywhere. He was frightening at this moment. Slowly a small sly grin appeared on his lips.

"Evenin' miss" he drawled. Liz held herself erect and regarded him stonily.

"Good evening" she replied with stiff politeness. The sailor, taking his time, shut the door behind him and started towards her.

"Enough chit-chat. Figured you'd want dessert first. I certainly do" he said just as he reached her and made to grab her.

Liz panicked and darted away from his touch crossing quickly to the other side of the room...which wasn't much, but space was space. He turned around and regarded her with amusement.

"Playin' hard t'get are you? Well I don't mind the chase honey but I got no time now so let's get down to business" he paused to retrieve a small pouch from his breeches and throw it at her feet "or should I say..pleasure" and with that he lunged at her.

Without any advantage Liz was captured brutally in his strong arms that crushed her very bones, and pressed her to his hard body. Fear rose within her and triggered a scream for help, which unfortunately was smothered by the sailors wet unyielding lips. Tears of terror started to roll down her cheeks as she tried uselessly to struggle against him and free herself. She managed a hard punch to the shoulder. He groaned but retaliated by caging her arms between them, rendering them useless.

Her other option was her legs, which she used quite forcefully and aimed it right at his shin. His lips tore from hers and he howled in pain. Liz took the opportunity to disentangle herself from him and run to the door. Her heart froze. It was locked.

Her next instinct was to scream, but before she was able to the sailor was back and his large hard palm silenced her. Hot tears ran down her cheeks. She had never been so afraid. He looked so menacing now she wondered what he would do to her.

"So you want to play the innocent victim now you do?" he growled "well I won't have it" he spun her around dizzily and through her ungracefully onto the bed. Her back smacked the slightly hard mattress cause her to wince in pain, coupled with her earlier exertions. She tried to sit up but he was atop her in an instance, thwarting her efforts, forcing her back down onto the bed.

Liz cried out at his painful weight but he silenced her with a harsh slap across her cheek. For a minute it left her stunned and dazed. The force affecting her perspective, and in that time the sailor had hiked up her dress and was presently holding both her hands against her mouth with one hand of his and attempting to open his breeches with his other.

He was excited. The chase, the anger, the violence, the resistance had all proved to stimulate his desire and he was now hard and ready. The whore was crying, he thought harshly. There was nothing to cry about. She knows her profession; she ought to learn to act it.

"Stop crying damn you. You're gonna be paid handsomely fo' this so stop complainin'. Ya look pitiful and it's all your fault ya hear? Yous probably upset the captain and now hes punishin' you " he finally freed his bulging erection and pushed himself between her thighs, ready to plunge in.

Liz screamed into his hand, terrified of the knowledge that she was being raped. Praying in her mind for someone to save her. Her struggles proved useless. He was perfectly positioned and Liz knew what came next. Despair washed over her, creating more tears.

"Stop it I said. It ain't gonna be bad woman, I'll make it good fo' you" he tried to convince her but Liz was not listening. The sailor had enough. The whore was a beauty and the honor...after drawing straws...had gone to him to be the first of many on this ship. He would have her. Willing or not.

"You just better be more friendly to the rest or they'll be worse than me" he grumbled and prepared himself to thrust.....and suddenly the sailor's body was lifted from her.

It was a blur. The sailor flying across the room and slamming headfirst into the wall. Liz's vision cleared from the mist of tears and she saw Max yank the sailor to his feet and send his fist into his face with a mighty crack. The sailor grunted, crumbling, but Max hoisted him up again, and this time sent his fist into the man's abdomen. The breath whooshed out of the sailor. A moment later he lay in a battered heap upon the floor.

Max's dagger appeared in his hand. He rolled the sailor...who he had identified as Hugh....who was groaning and only partly conscious, with his bare foot onto his back. He turned to Liz.

"Command it and i will kill him. Or castrate him if you prefer."

Liz jerked her skirts down, staring. Her heart still beat wildly and uncontrollably. She was shaking. She felt close to vomiting. "N-no"

He straightened, the dagger disappeared. He looked at her.

Liz sagged against the wall. Then she turned and leaned across the bed and retched. Max retrieved the chamber pot from beneath the bed and held it beneath her. Liz's heaves were dry. He put the pot aside and laid a hand upon her back.

At that gesture Liz suddenly turned and threw herself into her rescuer's arms, not caring who it was, only caring that he had saved her. She could feel his warmth envelope her as strong arms encircled her. Oddly enough after her violent experience she did not feel fear, nor did she recoil. She felt safe.

Her tears flowed freely and wet the linen shirt beneath her cheek. Her hands clasped behind his neck, entangling in his soft hair. She pressed herself even closer, as if to flee the danger outside the protective walls around her. A big hand that she had just thought unforgiving was surprisingly gentle as it started smoothing hair in a soothing manner, as did the other hand that rotated across her back.

Liz sighed, the sobbing slowly ceasing, until only her hard breathing and her rescuer's warm one could be heard in the silence. After a few moments the silence was broken.

"Liz" his tone was sharp and Liz looked up into his handsome face. "Are you hurt?"

Liz stared at him for a moment before shaking her head negatively. He pulled away from her a bit and clasped her hands in his. "Did he hurt you?" he asked again.

Fighting back another flood of tears Liz managed to stutter "N-no"

She saw Max's jaw flex in the candlelight. He hesitated, their gazes locked. Then he lifted his hand and very gently he touched her face. His thumb stroked her jaw. Liz stared into his solemn brown eyes and could not move.

Then his eyes chilled. He turned her head to one side. "He hit you"

Liz nodded. His temple pulsed visibly. Max studied where Hugh had hit her. She was aware now of how her cheek throbbed and ached. She winced when he touched her jaw. Max released her, standing.

"I think i will kill him after all" he said.

"No!" Liz grabbed his hand and noticed how bloody it was. She dropped his palm." I...please. Enough." she pleaded in a small voice.

Max regarded her for a long moment. Finally he nodded. "You are brave Liz. Most women would be in hysterics by now" he said softly.

"I am.....in hysterics"

He smiled slightly and it was as if it brightened the whole blackness of the night." You are hardly hysterical." Then he sobered." Come. You shan't stay here" he said and pulled her to him. Liz did not argue, especially now that she was in his protective arms again. Gone was her animosity to him, he was her hero tonight, she would treasure that.

And then he was leading her to his room once more.