Chapter Seventeen
Jack clung to the rail as though his life depended on it. He couldn't remember ever feeling this bad. He had thought he was going to throw up, but he hadn't. Suddenly, he heard a sound erupting from his stomach. Whatever was wrong with him was now in his stomach, and he felt like the bottom had dropped out. He dropped the bottle of rum as his hands flew to clutch at his gut, and he doubled over in pain.
He screamed Brendan's name. Some one had poisoned him! He didn't know who, but his pain was so great that he thought he was dying. Not fair! he thought. Not fair! I've got to get the bastard before I die! Even as he thought that, he wondered who had sneaked aboard the ship and poisoned him. "BRENDAN!" he screamed again. He fell to the deck, still clutching at his gut.
As soon as Jack had disappeared, Xena had called the others to gather around her. "We need to break off into pairs, go out, and check for survivors. Save who and what you can, and do it quickly. Autolycus, you're with me," she called to the man who had just found the strongbox and was dragging it away from the dead man's hands.
"Yes?" he called back to her. "Are you finally needing my attention? Look at what I got!" He held the box up.
"We'll start a collection of what we're taking back with us here," she said as she placed her foot carefully amongst the fallen debris. "We'll start with your box, Autolycus. Set it down right here."
"No way! It's mine!" he protested.
"No, it's ours," Xena said, "and we're not breaking up the spoils right now. Put it here." She again tapped the spot with her booted foot, and he set it reluctantly on the ground. "Now branch out and look for survivors but don't wander off too far. I don't want to have to rescue you again," she added, looking at Autolycus again.
Autolycus was about to answer her when he heard Faith mutter, "So that's how he got out of there."
"Yeah," he shot back at her, "not with any help from you!"
She grinned at him. "Tell ya what. Next time, I'll just let the giant do with ya what he wants."
Without another word, Autolycus ran out to search for more jewels. He knew he could never win in a sparring match against Faith. Xena did not break the others up into groups. She knew they'd form natural pairings any way, and in fact, Clark and Lex had already gone off together. Xena headed off after Autolycus, leaving Faith and Dawson alone with Carl still screaming and still being ignored.
Brendan had returned to the Captain's cabin to check on Will, but he had ran from there the instant he had heard Jack screaming his name. Now he leapt to where his friend lay, concern etched clearly over his face. "Jack, what happened!"
"Some one's poisoned me!" Jack gasped out. "Rum! The rum!" He pointed to where the bottle had fallen. "I think I'm dying!" He closed his eyes against the pain.
Brendan's heart pounded fearfully as he snatched the bottle, and his eyes shifted to yellow as he sniffed it. One sniff confirmed that there had been a herb added to the rum, and the second told him not only what the herb was but also who had slipped it in there. The first words of explanation he spoke escaped him in a great rush of relief. "You're not dieing."
Jack opened his eyes in surprise. "Can't be hurting this bad, Brendan, and not dieing," he almost whispered. "Not fair. I've gotta kill that bastard! I can't even move! It seems like it's eating a hole in my gut! What is it?"
"Cat's claw," Brendan answered. "You might wish you were dead, my friend, but it won't kill you."
"Will it pass? Who did it?" He knew Brendan could smell well enough to know both what it was and who it was. As soon as Jack had recovered from the pain, he was going to get the culprit. Nothing was going to stand between him and the Governor! "Can you help me get to the privy?" He felt that he might get to feeling better if he could just make it there.
Brendan nodded. Reaching a hand down and pulling Jack to his feet, he told him, "We'd better get you there fast. That's mostly what it's going to do to you. You'll have to take more of the herb, but it will pass."
They barely made it. Jack breathed a sigh of relief as he shut the door and his world exploded almost immediately, relief being granted as it did so. "Thank the Gods!" he breathed. Jack jumped as he heard something hit the door. "Brendan," he called through the closed door, "are you all right!"
A low growl answered him at first, and he could easily picture Brendan shaking his head fiercely as he tried to fight against the stench that was assailing his nostrils. Finally, Brendan's voice answered him, but even then it was considerably weakened. "Yes, sir."
"Sorry," Jack called back with a sheepish grin, "but, Brendan, get me the culprit!"
Brendan shook his head. He didn't want to have to deliver the culprit, but he knew that he had no other choice. Brendan had a good ideal why the man had done what he had done, and he knew he had never meant to make Jack think he was dieing. He sighed but only called back, "Right away, Cap'n." Then sniffing the air again, he headed reluctantly down to the sleeping quarters.
Cole had been searching for the Lewis sisters for a while. He had not seen any of the cats and figured that they were holed up sleeping somewhere, so he returned to the sleeping quarters to check there again. They had not been there the first time and he did not know how he had missed them, but the couples were now curled up, asleep, together.
The men's arms were wrapped around their wives, and the women were nestled into their chests. Tom's and Katrina's tails lay entwined around each other, and Celina's circled one of Morph's legs. They looked like the perfect picture of matrimonial bliss. Cole hated to wake them, but he knew that Will was in desperate need of them.
He had just been about to call out to them when he noticed Brendan heading that way. Why was Brendan here and not up taking care of Will? "Brendan, why are you here? Is Will okay?"
Brendan nodded, and his haunted eyes turned to look at Cole as he answered him. "Will's fine, better than I ever could have hoped, actually. There's another new woman aboard. She used a crystal to heal him." He did not add that the Captain had then had her put into the room.
"The ship seems to be crawling with new women," Cole said. "I think it's a good thing," he added, thinking on Piper. "We've been needing more crew members. Women make great fighters, and the group we've got today all seem to be gifted." Many Pirates were superstitious of having women on board, but the additions of Xena, Gabrielle, the Lewis sisters, and Faith had already taught the men of the Pearl and Sea Witch alike that women actually made wonderful crewmates.
Brendan raised an eyebrow at his friend. Cole spoke as though there were at least a dozen new women, but he only knew of three. "You make it sound like there's a lot more, but I thought we only had three new additions?"
"Three? Where've you been? There's the Halliwells; that's four alone. There's Ororo; she's a Weather Witch. There's . . . " he thought for a moment, ". . . a woman in a black dress; I'm not sure what her name was. There's a woman with brown hair and a new kid."
"But that's a male," Brendan interjected. Where had all these other women come from? "I knew about Cordelia, Elizabeth, and the blonde with the animals, but those are the only new women I'd heard of."
"And those three you just mentioned," Cole concluded the list of new arrivals. "The others came from rescue," he continued to explain. "We rescued a lot of Witches today. The townspeople were trying to kill them. We spent the bigger part of the day rescuing them, and the others just got back a little while ago. Part of us are still not here. They were with Jack and have not returned yet. So, all in all, I think we've got quite an addition."
"Yeah," Brendan said quietly in agreement. His eyes turned back to the four sleepers as he added underneath his breath, "But we may be about to lose four of our best."
"What makes you say that?" Cole asked in surprise. "Why do you think they're going to leave us?" His eyes turned toward the cats again.
"Tom slipped cat's claw into Jack's rum."
"What's that?" Cole asked.
"A herb," Brendan answered. "It won't kill, but you just about wish you were dead before it gets done with your stomach."
"Why would Tom do something stupid like that?" Cole questioned. "He adores Jack! Why would he want to make him sick?"
Brendan's gaze turned back to Cole. There was no doubt in his mind to the answer. "Jack's been laying even more heavily on the rum lately. You know I had to rescue him in the last storm we went through; he was so drunk that he didn't even realize the danger! Evidently Tom was the only one of us who cared enough to dare to do something to make Jack think twice about the rum."
"Makes sense to me. I remember seeing Jack hanging out there, one hand on the rail and the other hand clutching a bottle of rum, and singing at the top of his lungs, 'A pirate life for me!', heedless of wind and storm. Didn't you have to tie him down in the bed to keep him below deck?"
Brendan nodded. "Yup, and I made it to him just before he would have been struck by lightning." His voice was as deep with sorrow and worry as his heart.
"So what do we do now? We wake Tom and ask him? I can imagine Jack's bellowing for the culprit."
"You know he is, and I know it's Tom. There's no mistaking his scent."
"And you don't want to deliver Tom to him? I can't blame you," Cole admitted. "Let's wake him, get his side of the story, and then we can figure out what to do."
"Of course I don't," Brendan answered, "but what choice do I have? Like it or not, Jack's our Captain -- or, at least, he's mine --, and what he says goes."
"What do you think Jack will do to him?" Cole asked.
Brendan shrugged. "I don't know," he replied honestly, "but he can't kill him. Even if he were that angry, you know his wife would never allow it." He didn't even want to think about Katrina when she was the angriest he'd ever seen her, and he had the feeling that, where her family was concerned, especially her husband, she could be even fiercer.
Cole reached out, touched Tom, and gently shook him. He was rewarded when Tom's eyes blinked open rather sleepily. "Come here," Cole told him and waited for Tom to follow him.
Tom's pupils narrowed as he looked up at Cole. "Why?" he whispered back.
"The Captain's gotten into the rum," Cole said, "and all Hell's about to break lose."
An alien curse word slipped from Tom's lips, but then he shook his head. "It was bound to happen sooner or later." His arms were around Katrina, and he gave his wife a gentle squeeze before slipping out from under her.
He had barely stood and was walking by the cot where Morph and Celina slept when a hand suddenly grabbed his leg. He recognized the familiar touch immediately and did not jump but instead looked down into Morph's open eyes. "What . . . ?" his friend started to ask, but Tom hushed him with a single word.
"Jack."
"I told you it'd happen."
"I knew you were right and that it would," Tom agreed, "but somebody had to do something and I was the only one with the balls enough to do it."
Morph grinned up at him even as he slipped away from Celina. "The balls," he asked, "or the stupidity?"
"Both," Tom answered, his grin matching Morph's.
Cole had not known that the Captain had a drinking problem so badly that he needed attention, but he made a mental note that he'd keep check on him. The rum should disappear. If we get to sea and there's no rum, Jack can't drink it. He'll never know what happened to it! He'd like to see who'd get the blame then. Jack was too fine of a man and a great Captain to be so besotted with rum. Besides, he thought, Will's aboard now. He shouldn't need it. I'll take care of it, and he'll never know it was me. He followed behind the others as they made their way slowly back to where Brendan had left Jack.
Jack felt as though it would never stop coming. He knew it would last forever if he had eaten in the last three days, but he had only sampled a bit of food and had not been able to keep much of what he had eaten down because of the cook. Joxer couldn't cook any better than he could fight. Jack vowed that he would find a cook that could feed his men better.
He pondered on what to do to the culprit. Which one of his men would want to hurt him? He thought he had their loyalty. Had one of them been harboring a grudge and only now decided to pay him back? He couldn't think of any one. Maybe he was a fool because he trusted all of them? He felt as though they were a family. Who was the traitor? Who didn't want to be part of the family?
He wondered why Brendan didn't tell him who the culprit was. Surely it wasn't Brendan? He trusted Brendan with the very life he breathed! His heart refused to accept the thought that Brendan might be the traitor, but who, his brain argued, would know what drug to use that would not kill him but only make him terribly sick besides a doctor?
No, I won't go there! Brendan and I have been too close and into too much stuff together! He'd never do that just because I almost strangled him! It was an accident! He wouldn't have done that! Jack kept denying to himself. It couldn't be Brendan, but the annoying thought kept coming back. Brendan had not spoken one word about who the culprit was, and he seemed to be forever in coming back.
Faith jumped off of the auction block. She glanced at her shoulder as she started to walk off toward the east. It hurt like Hell, but though she ignored the pain, she knew she could not ignore the blood. Without a second thought, she pulled off her shirt and wrapped the black leather around the wound. The wind played across her hardened breasts, but she did not even bother to glance down as a snowflake fell onto one of her nipples. Instead, she continued to walk, picking her way over the dead bodies and debris that littered the ground.
Dawson ripped off his shirt and handed it to Faith. "Please put this on. We don't need the guys falling out looking at you." He didn't say that he couldn't stand for the guys to even be looking at her when she had her clothes on but most especially now that she was half-naked. He wanted to stare at her. His mouth ached desperately to taste the sweet nectar of her breasts again, but he didn't dare to stick a hand out at them for fear that she'd slice it off and hand it back to him.
She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why should that bother you? You already rode."
He remembered Brendan's words: she never gave second rides. He'd hoped he was wrong but could see that he hadn't been. "Please?" he asked, still holding it out to her.
She hesitated but finally subjected. "Well, I suppose it won't leave too much skin open in a fight. All right, choir boy; I'll put it on." She reached for his shirt.
"My name's Dawson, Faith. It wouldn't kill you to call me that. I'm not a choir boy. I didn't even go to church."
Taking the shirt from him, she began to shrug into it. Pain shot through her shoulder again, and she grimaced even as she looked away from him. She continued ahead as she pulled his shirt the rest of the way on and began to button it. "Whatever you say," she called back to him, an impish grin flickering across her face at the reaction he knew he would have, "Lawson."
He shook his head disappointedly but followed quickly behind her.
Finally, Jack felt as though he could go back out of the privy safely. He walked out only to see four men standing there, each with the same dreaded expression etched on his face. Jack looked at each of them in turn as he paced in front of them. Finally he stepped back away from them. "Well," he asked, looking at Brendan, "I hate to think it, but you're the only one here with the knowledge of which herb to use. How could you?"
Surprise flickered in Brendan's eyes. How could Jack think it was him? He felt as if his heart had been cut out at the mere thought that his dearest friend would think he could ever betray him. He started to glance toward Tom but stopped himself, realizing the chance he had been given. Despite the pain in his heart, he would not simply abandon Tom when he had been granted the opportunity to protect him that he had secretly prayed for.
Brendan squared his shoulders but did not look Jack in the eye as he stepped forward. "Some one had to do something, Jack," he spoke quietly. "Your drinking's gotten out of control. It almost killed you in the last storm we went through," his eyes finally lifted, meeting those of his dearest friend, a man whose friendship he'd never deserved, "and you don't even remember it. What kind of a friend would I be if I let you continue to drink yourself to such a manner?"
No, it couldn't be! Jack's heart cried out. Even though he knew Brendan would take the weight of the world on himself, he just couldn't believe that Brendan would do it to him. He began to pace again, stopping in front of Cole who had stepped out and in front of him. "No, Captain Jack. I did it! Brendan's right! Somebody had to stop you from doing yourself in, but Brendan didn't do it. I did it!"
Jack wondered why suddenly every one was trying to protect somebody else. Every instinct told him that it had to be one of these four. After all, they were all present and accounted for, and they were all eagerly accepting the blame. Who was guilty? He looked at Morph as he said, "And supposedly you did it too?"
"Not too," Morph said with the most solemn expression Jack had ever seen on his face. He took one step forward to place himself in front of Tom and then another, walking between Jack and Brendan and Cole. "They're protecting me."
He smiled a bitter smile as he looked at the three of them. "I suppose the question should be why you think you have the right," his voice increased in volume as he talked, "to judge that I had too much to drink and think you could control my drinking!" He was almost shouting now. "I'LL DRINK JUST AS MUCH DAMN RUM I WANT WHEN I WANT IT! WHO'S THE CAPTAIN HERE! YOU!" he asked as he turned on Tom, who had already been moving forward.
"No." Tom's voice was even, and his green eyes met Jack's calmly. "You're the Captain, but Brendan's right. We've all seen it. Your drinking almost got you killed. What kind of crew would we be if we let our Captain kill himself? What kind of friends would we be if we didn't do whatever we could to stop you? I couldn't let it go on," he admitted. "We all wanted to do something about it, but I'm the one who did it. I put the cat's claw in your rum, Jack, and by Bast, if I had it to do again and you were in the same manner, I'd do it again! You mean too much to all of us for us to just watch you drink your life away!"
Tom was hardly ever serious except when it came to his feelings for Katrina, and Jack had never seen him more solemn or heard him speak more eloquently than he did now. His declaration took the wind out of Jack's sails. He had not realized that the rum had gotten to him the way it had. He had grasped it for a lifeline, because when he drank it, it helped him to keep his memories at bay. It helped him to forget that he could not have what he wanted. Maybe he had been foolhardy? He didn't even remember the last storm that they were so concerned about. He just remembered waking up, chained in his bed, with a dry mouth and a Hell of a headache.
He looked around at the four men, knowing that he could not condemn any of them, but it did not make it set any easier with him. He couldn't thank them because he wasn't happy about it, but he didn't want to hurt any of them for he cared about each of them deeply. He continued to silently pace up and down, pondering what to do. Finally, he came to a decision. "Temporarily," he said, "you, Tom, and Katrina will be reassigned to the Sea Witch. I can't live expecting my rum to be poisoned at any moment. Therefore I will put you where you'll be safe. I don't want to lose your friendship, but I can't condone what you did. Report to Gabrielle."
He turned his back toward them. "And, Brendan, I'm sorry for accusing you. I didn't want to think it was you, but you're smarter than any one else on this ship. I'm lucky you're my friend," he said, still looking out to sea. "Forgive me?"
Cole, Tom, and Morph had slipped out without a single word, leaving Brendan to face the Captain alone. Brendan had watched them go but had not moved one step from the place he stood. When Jack expected him to speak, he spoke but only one word. "Always."
"So what's next?" Jack asked. "I need more of the herb, or will it just pass? It can't interfere with tonight. I've got to get him, Brendan!" Jack said, turning to look at his friend.
"More will help it to pass more quickly and assuredly. I know you have to do what you must, my friend, but you can not wait until tonight. We have to find a way for you to move more quickly. I've heard whispers about this storm," he explained, looking up at the snow that still continued to fall, covering all of Port Royal in a thick, white blanket. "I'm not sure of all the details, but something's coming with it and we must be out of here before it hits fully."
Jack looked at his hand that still clutched the rum bottle and straightened himself to his full height. He held the bottle out to Brendan. "Get rid of it, and get me more of the herb. We've got to get this ship under sail."
Surprise flickered in Brendan's eyes as Jack told him to get rid of the rum. Had it actually done any good to talk to him? No, he realized as Jack continued, it hadn't. He only wanted this bottle gone because of the herb. "Yes, sir." He nodded and turned to walk away.
Jack gave the order to prepare to sail.
As various crew members scattered to prepare the ship for sailing, a voice rang out above the din. Gabrielle stood above Jack's cabin as she called out, "IF YOU'RE NEW TO THE SHIPS, COME HERE!"
The newcomers within earshot looked up to see who was calling them. Upon seeing a blonde that some knew but a few did not, they hastened to obey and gathered in front of the Captain's cabin.
Prue Halliwell made sure that all of her sisters were there, lining them up in a neat row in front of the Captain's quarters. She figured the time that they would be placed upon one of the two ships had come, and she prayed that they would be kept together as she was now in her mother's role and absolutely had to keep an eye on her younger sisters.
Paige and Phoebe kept punching each other, trying to get next to Prue. They ended up standing between Piper and Prue with Prue's disapproving eye cast upon both of them. Piper shrugged as she looked at her older sister. "Kids," she said, knowing that her comment would gripe both of her younger sisters. "What can you do?"
Prue nodded in agreement and looked around for Ororo even as she heard Phoebe give Piper a raspberry. "Stop that and pay attention," she said as she popped Phoebe on the arm.
"But she said I was a kid!" Phoebe protested.
"Well, then, stop acting like one!" Paige told her.
"She said you were too!"
"You're both kids," Prue said. "Now be quiet and listen! We might get split up, especially if you two don't behave!" That thought had not occurred to Phoebe or Paige, and both switched instantly to their best behavior.
Knowing that their minds had gone to the thought that they had already lost their mother and grandmother and did not want to lose their sisters, as well, Piper stepped closer to them and silently wrapped her arms around their shoulders in a reassuring embrace. They stood like that, with Prue's eyes on Gabrielle, as they waited fearfully for the announcement.
Fred hastened to get in the line. She didn't know which ship she'd be assigned to, but she prayed it was the one with Wesley on it. She kept glancing around for him but had not spied him yet. When she finally did, he was sweaty and looked good enough to eat. She was surprised at herself for thinking that and even more surprised when her tongue thirsted to lick the sweat off of him. A light blush shaded her cheeks as she tore her attention away from him. She squinched up her eyes and focused her attention instead on the woman she knew to be Gabrielle.
"I know we've got two others at least," Gabrielle told the gathered group before her. "Where's Ororo, and have Elvira and Wolf made it back yet?" Looking around, she finally spotted Ororo with Wolverine and called to them. "Wolverine, you can come with your woman," she called to him, "but she's got to be here!"
Wolverine looked at Gabrielle, wondering just what the heck she thought she was doing. He walked over to stand under her and looked questioningly up at her. "What are ya doin' up there?" he asked.
"What the Captain told me to," Gabrielle retorted. A delicious thrill rushed through her at the realization that she was actually looking down upon the man that had been chosen as Xena's second-in-command. He'd never had any right to her position, but he'd ended up there any way. "Why?" she demanded icily. "Got a problem with that?"
"What did the Captain tell ya to do?"
"Sit down, hush, and you'll find out soon enough."
"Don't talk to me like that, little girl!" he called up to her. "I'm here now. I can do whatever job the Captain needs doing."
"Like Hades you can! Jack told me to handle it, and if you don't chill your heels until the rest of the group gets here, I'll be more than happy to tell him that you're interfering with the following of his orders!" Her green eyes flashed down at him.
He looked angrily back up at her and then looked around for Jack. "CAPTAIN," he yelled in protest, "GABRIELLE'S TRYING TO DO MY JOB!"
Jack looked at him. "No, she's trying to do the job I told her to do. You got a problem with that, Wolverine?"
Wolverine mumbled something under his breath that Jack couldn't hear but did not make a comment out loud. "I didn't think so," Jack said and returned to looking in cabinets in search of his rum. Where had it all suddenly gone to? He knew he had more. He didn't pay any more attention to the group.
Gabrielle grinned down at Wolverine as though she were a cat and he but a mouse. "Anything else to say?" she asked him.
"Not at this time," Wolverine responded. He settled back to watch Gabrielle make an ass of herself.
It was at that time that a masculine voice quietly spoke up from behind Prue. "Excuse me, madam, but I need to have a brief talk with Gabrielle."
At the sound of such a masculine voice, Prue wanted to turn around and look. It just melted her right to her bones, and she wanted to see what he looked like. She tried glancing to the side, but he was standing directly behind her and she couldn't see him. She moved slightly to where he could come up to Gabrielle and was rewarded with a sight that made her mouth water.
What a hunk! He was taller than she and had a muscular build. His hair was dark brown and hung slightly past his shoulders. His hands were large but looked like they could caress gently, and she longed to reach out and touch him, to taste him. She could tell her hormones were wild and raging for they usually didn't react around any guy like they were to this stranger. He was different. She didn't know what it was about him, but she planned to corner him later and find out. She stepped back into her place in the line only to bump into some one who was following close behind the man. As she moved to let her pass, the man's delightful scent wafted back to tease her nostrils.
Cordelia's hazel eyes watched as Prue moved again, but she shook her head. "That's all right," she told her. "I'm new too. I simply had not heard the message when Brendan told me on his way here."
"That's okay," Prue answered. "Sorry for almost stepping on you. Who is he?" she whispered.
"He's quite a gentleman," Cordelia admitted in a returned whisper though she was careful not to add that he was not the best gentleman there by far. Even then, part of her mind stayed on Angel, and her lips still burned from the memory of their kiss. "His name's Brendan. Richards, I think. He's the ship's doctor."
"Oh!" Prue breathed, lost in a daydream of where she needed the doctor's care immediately. After all, just the mere sight of him had put her into the greatest danger of burning completely up! "Oh Gods, what a man!" she breathed only to receive a strange look from all three of her sisters.
"Prue!" Piper chided in a hushed whisper. "Phoebe and Paige do not need to hear such!" Although she scolded her sister, Prue's comment reminded her of Cole, and she wondered where that magnificent man had gotten to.
Prue just smiled at her sisters and waited to hear what Gabrielle was going to tell them.
Meanwhile, Brendan had reached the front of the group. "Gabrielle," he called, "I know you haven't met them, but there are four others you need to be aware of. One's the Pr -- the lady at the back of the group; her name's Cordelia. Then there's Elizabeth, a new boy by the name of Dawson, and a new blonde woman with a group of animals." Gabrielle nodded slowly, taking the information in. "And don't forget Will," Brendan added. "None of those can make it here, but you can still figure out where they're going."
Gabrielle nodded again. "Thank you, Brendan." With a curt nod, he continued on his way, leaving her to return her attention to the group. "Okay. Evidently Wolf and Elvira haven't made it back yet, so we'll get started without them." She turned her attention first to Prue and the three who stood with her. "You're all sisters, right?"
"Yes, ma'am, we are," Prue said with hope shining in her eyes, "and we'd like to stay together if possible, please?"
"Of course." Gabrielle would not have even thought of splitting up what remained of their family for she knew they would need each other desperately. "You four will go on the Sea Witch. That's the other ship, by the way. You're on the Black Pearl right now."
"Thank you," she said. "I hope we won't disappoint you." She hugged her sisters to her.
Gabrielle nodded. "I'm sure you'll be just fine. The important thing is that you made it out of there alive." She smiled at them before returning her attention to the rest of the group.
"Will and Elizabeth will stay on the Pearl. Elvira can go there too, and . . ." Her eyes fell upon Ororo, and she heard a low growl even as she said, "Ororo."
Wolverine was biding his time, waiting to see where Gabrielle was going to put 'Ro. If she tried splitting them up, he was going to give her Hell about it! He had to admit, though, that the girl was handling the situation really well. As Gabrielle stopped talking, giving the group time to let that bit of information sink in, what she had said finally hit Logan. "Ain't no way!" he yelled back up at her. "She goes on my ship!"
"Very well then, Wolverine," Gabrielle told him calmly. "You can go to the Pearl, too."
"YOU CAN'T DO THAT!" he yelled. "I'M THE QUARTERMASTER! The Captain didn't tell you to reassign the crewmates! He said the newcomers!"
"That he did," Gabrielle admitted with a nod, "and I say Ororo goes to the Pearl."
"I say she goes to the Witch!" he said with a leap and bound, jumping up onto the cabin with her and never realizing that Ororo had reached out a hand in a failed attempt to calm him.
As he moved toward her, Gabrielle slipped her sais out should she be forced to need them. She met him with a calm look. "We don't have to fight about this, Wolverine. You want to go with her, you go to the Pearl."
All the disturbance had caused Jack to look up from his fruitless search for rum. "Y'all makin' enough noise to wake the dead!" he yelled. He had heard what the confrontation was about. "Wolverine, get over here! Bring 'Ro with ya! It's nothing to fight about! One ship's no better than the other ship! NOW!" He stood alert with both hands on his hips. He didn't want to stomp over there and kick his little butt, but he would if he had to. "Gabrielle's in charge of this assignment, and you'll do what she tells you to do or, matey," he said, "you'll walk the plank."
No way did Logan want to walk the plank! He never even unsheathed his claws. He just jumped back down and stomped back by 'Ro's side. "Xena won't like this!" he growled back up at Gabrielle. "Soon as she returns, you'll catch it! She won't want me gone!"
"She never wanted you there in the first place! Jack's the one who assigned the positions!"
"You're wrong, Gabrielle. Xena handpicked me out of all the rest. She's going to be p.o.ed when she gets back."
"If you think I believe she'd pick your short butt over me when I'm the love of her life, you'd better think again!"
Jack looked over at Gabrielle. "Unfortunately, Gabrielle, that's exactly what she did do. I never assigned the positions on your ship. I simply gave it to Xena and made her the Captain, and I've never tried to interfere until now. Maybe I should have done it a long time ago, but you'll have to take it up with her."
As Jack's voice sank in, Gabrielle's heart sank far below the dreaded locker of Davy Jones. Her skin paled. Her hands, which still clutched her sais, trembled, and tears welled in her green eyes. "You're kidding, right, Jack?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
"I'm sorry, Gabrielle, but I'm not. She gave me her reasons, but I'm not at liberty to tell them. Like I said, you've got to talk to her about it. I thought she was wrong. I told her that, but like I told you, I don't make it a policy to interfere with another Captain's decisions." He didn't know what else to say. He felt for the girl. To lighten the mood, he asked, "Has any one seen my rum? It seems to have grown little feet and run away." He laughed.
Laughter answered Jack's joke, and it burned Gabrielle's ears. She could feel eyes upon her, and her heart felt as if it had broken into a million pieces. Xena hadn't wanted her as her second-in-command? Why? Why if she'd truly loved her, if she did love her? She could feel the tears coming and knew she was moments from breaking down, but she had to finish her task. She had to show the others that she was capable of handling situations, even if Xena, blast her hide, didn't think so.
Tears still shimmered in her eyes as she turned back to the group before her. Her mind whirled as she tried to think of who she had already placed: the Halliwells, Ororo, Will, Elizabeth, Elvira. "Fred, you're to the Witch. Cordelia, Pearl. That new blonde can go to the Pearl, too, whatever her name is, and the kid's to the Witch." Her words came out in a rush so fast that they were barely able to be made out, and then in a flash, she turned and ran. Gabrielle was gone before any one even knew what had happened.
Jack watched her go. He knew there'd be Hell to pay, and he had no way of telling Xena what she'd be walking into when she returned. He looked down at Logan and the others. "Welcome to your new homes. I will get an escort for those of you going to the Witch. Do not think less of Gabrielle; I'd be emotional were I in her boots, as well." He looked around and was just in time to see Cole shimmer in. "Cole, escort these lovely ladies to your ship and then return. I want you to go and see what's keeping Xena so long, and I have a message for you to give her."
Cole, who had thought he had just been caught after having returned from disposing of all of Jack's rum, smiled at the Captain. "Sure thing. If you ladies would come this way," he called to them and walked off, heading toward the Witch.
Wolverine looked at Jack; Jack looked at Wolverine. "Knew it had to come out sooner or later. I just wish it had come out in a better way." Jack then turned his attention to the regal lady who stood beside Wolverine. "Welcome aboard, Ororo. It seems that today we have lost our resident Sorceresses to the Witch and have a position for you as our chief Sorceress if you're willing to take it." He smiled at her.Wolverine was extremely surprised at this turn of events. "What about the Lewises?" he asked.
"We had a bit of a misunderstanding," Jack said, making a motion with his hand. "It's better for all of them to be over there." He would not tell any one of Tom's treachery.
Wolverine knew better than to ask any questions. They both looked at Ororo to see what her answer would be.
"I do wish to stay with the ships as long as the Halliwells are here, but I also do not wish to step on any one's toes," she answered hesitantly.
"So does that mean you'll take the job?" Jack asked hopefully. "There's no way they're coming back, so the position is definitely open."
"Very well then," Ororo accepted with a brief nod and a gentle smile. "It would be an honor."
"It will be an honor to have you serving with us, madam," Jack replied with a slight bow. "Wolverine, if you'll show her to the quarters, you can pick out your beds. If there's luggage or anything scattered about the bed, you can pretty well tell that it belongs to somebody. A lot of our crew are messy."
Ororo's face had paled slightly. This was not the first ship she had been on, and she remembered the sleeping quarters of the one that had taken her from Africa. "Hum," she spoke hesitantly. "These quarters, Captain. Are they . . . hum . . . beneath the deck?" She fought to keep a straight face.
"Just one floor down. Right under where we're standing now. Is there a problem?" he asked with concern on his face.
She thought quickly, not wanting to reveal her true problem. "Well, if it is not too much of a hindrance, I believe I would prefer to sleep on deck. I am a Weather Witch, and as such, I prefer to sleep as close to nature as possible." It was not a lie for she did prefer to sleep as close to nature as possible and was indeed a Weather Witch. It simply was nowhere near the truth of her real problem.
"That's no problem," Jack assured her. "Have Wolverine bring you up a cot. Find you an area out of the way of the crew, and you can set up your own little place."
Ororo breathed a silent sigh of relief, but her lips quivered even as she smiled at Jack. "Thank you, sir."
Wolverine simply told Jack, "Thank you." Neither of them mentioned Gabrielle.
"If you need anything, just let me know." He slipped away from them and continued his search for his elusive rum. He had not been gone from them long when he heard Cole returning. "Cole, you need to shimmer to where Xena is and find out what's taking them so long, and you need to tell Xena that Gabrielle knows that she picked out Wolverine for her second-in-command. Tell her Gabrielle took it as hard as she thought she would. Can't have her walking in here blind."
Cole kept his mouth shut. He figured this day would come, and it wasn't going to be a happy time for any concerned. He knew why Xena had appointed Wolverine and not Gabrielle, but knowing Gabrielle, he knew she would never sit still for it. He only hoped Gabrielle would forgive Xena. He cared deeply for both of them, and he did not want to lose them or them lose each other. "Aye aye, Captain; I will," he answered and shimmered out before Jack could ask him about the rum.
Logan looked at 'Ro. "I know the perfect place, little darlin'. Come with me, an' I'll show ya." He led the way to a small alcove that was near the wheel. It was protected from the weather and just big enough for two cots. "It's small but should be good for both of us. Do ya like it?"
Not yet trusting her voice after the spook that the Captain had unintentionally given her, Ororo nodded. Although it had shelter to keep the rain off, it was open on the side and she knew it would be just fine. She did not speak nor even look at Logan.
"Then I'll just go get the cots," he said. He headed off to get them, noticing that she was following behind him at a distance. He didn't force her to come any faster or to even enter the sleeping quarters. He just gathered two of the cots and headed back. He didn't know why she was spooked, but he knew she was. As he came back to the door, he noticed 'Ro standing there, looking into the sleeping quarters as though she was staring into the gaping mouth of Hell. "What's wrong, little darlin'?" he asked, deep concern in his face.
"I . . . I do not get along well with small, enclosed areas," she admitted slowly, biting back a shudder at the memories that were flashing through her mind. Her hands trembled slightly even as her fingers curled as if to scratch at something.
He walked through the entranceway, carrying both cots, and headed back to their new little hidey-hole. "That's no problem, 'Ro. If you get scared, just let me know, an' I'll try my best to do something about it. In the meanwhile, yer open to the elements." Setting the cots down, he turned to lift her chin and gaze into her eyes where he could see a haunted fear. He ached to protect her and, before he had time to think about what he was doing, had pressed his lips gently to hers.
She had not heard him and had almost become completely lost in her memories when she found his lips pressed against hers. Tingles shot through her at his touch, coiling and spreading through her body like golden rays of the morning sun chasing away the darkness of night. She slowly raised a hand up and gently cupped his face but did not pull back from his kiss. She knew they should not be doing this so soon after meeting for the first time that day, but she was already drawn to him more than she'd ever been to any man before. Instead of pulling away as she knew she should, she found herself deepening the kiss that he had began.
He felt himself melt into her, and he lost all track of time. She was his only world, and he wanted no other but her.
