Chapter 1

By the time that everyone had left after the wedding and the party, it was almost midnight and the last thing they wanted was to face the long clean up ahead.

"Captain?" Carolyn said, hopefully.

"Yes, madam?" he turned to her. His piercing blue eyes staring at her with unconcealed affection.

"I hate to ask...but would you mind?" she asked, looking exhaustedly at the room. It was full of wedding decorations; balloons and streamers, as well as plates and wine glasses and mugs which were littered over every surface.

"Not at all, my dear," the captain smiled and waved a hand at the room.

Within a fraction of a second, the decorations vanished and the dishes were banished to the kitchen, cleaned and tided away. The dirt from the rugs also vanished and the cushions, rugs and the chairs righted themselves at once. It was as if the whole thing had never taken place.

"Oh, that's fantastic," Martha grinned. "Just wait till spring cleaning time, captain, we're going to have a lot of fun you and me," she said.

"Madam, I am not a cabin boy to be commanded at all hours to swab the deck," the captain said with seriousness as he stood tall with his hands on his hips.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Less talk more clean," the older woman waved a dismissive hand at him.

"Of all the indignities..." he lamented.

"I'm sure there's a mop and bucket around if you want them," Carolyn smirked at the open mouthed stare he was giving them.

With an indignant scoff, the captain vanished but the room was spotless.

"Wonderful," Martha laughed, cheerfully.

After Carolyn had looked in on her children to make sure that they were still asleep and after she bid goodnight to Martha, she went to her own room and closed the door behind her. She found the captain sitting in the armchair by the fire which he'd lit for her to ward off the chill, and he was puffing on his pipe, reading from an old book.

"I hope you don't expect me to be your own personal cleaning genie," he remarked.

"Wouldn't dream of it, captain," she replied, smiling as she sat at her dressing table.

"Well, see that you don't, my dear," he said, closing his book and setting it down. He stood and walked over to her, standing beside her as she carefully put away her jewellery.

After a moment, she turned to look up at him and smiled.

"It really was a lovely idea," she reiterated, "My parents' second wedding."

"Yes, much more palatable than having you marry that spineless, lily livered cad, Claymore," he scoffed, shaking his head with a grimace on his handsome face.

"He's not so bad, really," Carolyn remarked.

"As I have no wish to spoil the evening, we shall agree to disagree," he said, haughtily.

"Very generous of you," she replied, dryly. "He really does care about us all, in his way, and he enjoys spending time here."

"Because you and Martha ply him with enough free food to last him the week."

"Now, really," she laughed.

"Oh, you may laugh madam, but mark me, the day will come when he'll never weigh his anchor from the galley table. Every morning and every night, the fool will be here expecting his meals on time just as Scuffy does," he said with a raised index finger for emphasis.

"Well, until then we can…agree to disagree, hmm?" she replied and began to brush her hair.

"Very well," he replied. "But I reserve the right to feed the blighter hard tack and grog when that day comes."

"He may join you on the other side if you do that enough, captain. Claymore doesn't exactly have a…strong, sea farers constitution," she said with a raised eyebrow.

"A fair point. I wouldn't want to hurry my eternal damnation…"

"Your eternal damnation?"

"Aye indeed, mine," he said, seriously. "If the blighter becomes a spectre, I'll never be shot of him."

"You always were such a sympathetic soul," she laughed.

"I am indeed," he preened, ignoring her blatant sarcasm.

Carolyn smiled and turned back to the mirror while she finished brushing out her hair. "This won't be the end of it, you know," she said after a moment.

"The end of what?"

"We've had a reprieve for now, but when my parents get back, they'll ask me about it again. Whether it's Claymore or anyone else they can think of, they'll keep pushing me to marry someone," she explained with a sigh. "They wont just let it go. They can be very stubborn sometimes."

"Yes, apparently the apple didn't fall far from the tree," he muttered, tugging lightly at his ear.

"Did you say something?" she asked.

"Nothing, dear lady," he assured her. "Perhaps we should enjoy these calm seas for the moment. There's no sense in worrying over a squall that hasn't crossed the horizon yet."

"Maybe," Carolyn hummed.

"Then we're agreed."

"Alright, I'll do my best not to worry. But I just know they'll come back and…"

"Now, now, you agreed not to worry yourself," he interrupted her.

"Right," she pursed her lip.

Carolyn set down her hairbrush and got to her feet, she wandered to the closet door and rested her hand on the door knob. "Well, maybe I could…tell them the truth," she turned around to face him again.

"And what would truth would you tell them?"

"Well…about you...the real you, I mean," Carolyn mused.

"Are you sure that's a wise course to chart?" he asked her.

"I don't know," she admitted, "I really didn't think things would get this...far. I never thought they'd actually plan a wedding for us…err…that is for Claymore and me."

"Admittedly neither did I," he admitted. "But confound-it all, how on earth would you explain it? That I'm dead? A mere phantom? That we had that miserable cad pretend to be me to placate them. That your existence here isn't quite so lonely as they perceive and that were I able to, I would have gladly stood by you today at that altar?" he said, pacing back and forth and stopping only when he realised what he'd just said.

"I thought you hated the idea of marriage," Carolyn remarked, looking at him and stepping closer to him.

"Indeed, I do. I detest the very notion of it...with anyone else but you. Surely you know that, Carolyn," he said, using her name now for the second time since they'd met.

"I know, captain," she said, giving him a sad smile.

"Daniel," he corrected her and her eyes glistened.

"Daniel," Carolyn nodded.

"It sounds all the more lovely when you say it, my dear," he said.

She was craning her neck up to look at him as he towered over her and her hand reached out to touch him before she could stop herself. When she did stop, her hand an inch from his arm and she sighed. "I'm sorry," she said, lowering her hand, "I just...I'm sorry."

"As am I," the ghost said, sadly, his voice quiet. "Now, it's late. You really should rest. The day has been a long and tiring one for you," he said after a moment.

"Mmmm," she hummed

"Goodnight, Carolyn," the ghost said, inclining his head.

"Goodnight...Daniel," Carolyn replied.

After he vanished, she had the distinct impression of the faintest of kisses on her cheek along with the lightest brush of a beard against her skin and then the feeling of a hand against her own, only for the briefest of moments. She wasn't quite sure if she'd imagined it or not.