Chapter Twenty-eight
"They're gone," Elizabeth announced. She had taken a few steps from the shadows they had ducked in upon first seeing Angel with the blonde and had watched as they had crossed another ice bridge back to the ship. The second had disappeared as quickly as the first, and she was still amazed by both the unusual animals and the ice that she had seen coming from the woman's hands.
When Cordelia failed to respond, she turned back to the shadows with a concerned frown. "Cordelia?" When the brunette still did not answer her, she stepped closer, returning to the shadows and only then seeing the sadness written all over her face. "What's wrong?" she asked softly.
"He . . . He kissed me."
Elizabeth's brow creased in confusion. "Who kissed you?"
"Angel," Cordelia explained, her tear-filled eyes refusing to meet the blonde's. Her gaze dropped instead to her feet, but Elizabeth still saw the lone tear that ran down her cheek.
She was concerned over Cordelia's sadness, but her confusion was growing by the minute. "I thought you were new to the ship?"
"I . . . I am, and I . . . I know I should have known better, but one thing led to another and . . . "
Elizabeth shook her head even as she placed a gentle hand on the other woman's shoulder. "It's all right," she assured her quietly. "You don't have to explain to me. I'm just . . . I'm sorry you saw that."
"I'm not," Cordelia said with a shake of her head that surprised Elizabeth. "I'm sorry he's another jerk, but I'm glad that I at least know it."
Elizabeth nodded in understanding. She started to speak but Cordelia's voice broke her off. "How could I have been so foolish? I should have known better than to kiss a man I'd just met today, not to mention letting him get that close to me!"
"It wasn't foolishness," Elizabeth assured her, shaking her head slightly from side to side. "You had no way to know, and besides, I've began to think that we may all be making mistakes whenever we allow a man to get under our skin." She paused, contemplating what she was about to say. She hoped that the knowledge that she had not been the only one hurt so by a man might help Cordelia to feel at least a little better about herself. "Cordelia, my Father was a jerk," she admitted to her, "and my fiancé just told me today that he never loved me and, in fact, loves a man instead."
Cordelia's eyes rose to hers in shock. "What? You can't be serious!"
"I'm afraid I am." Elizabeth sighed.
"What's wrong with us? Don't we know any better?"
"I didn't," she replied honestly, "but I do now. I believe you are the same."
Cordelia nodded even as she sniffled again. "True, but . . . It just hurts so much. I know it's crazy since we only met today, but I truly felt something for him. I was already falling hard for him and thought he felt the same, but to see him with that blonde . . . "
"I know it hurts," Elizabeth agreed quietly, "but it's best we both found out now before it could get any further." She could tell Cordelia was still upset as was she, and she stepped forward and embraced the other woman in a gentle, reassuring hug. "I don't know how, but we'll get through this."
Cordelia nodded as she returned Elizabeth's hug. She prayed she was right, but her heart had never felt such pain as it did watching Angel with another woman. How could he? How could he have played her as he had? Her whirling mind turned back to their encounter earlier that day, and she remembered his story. Had that even been the truth? She had wondered why he would have trusted her as much as she'd believed he'd had to in order to reveal such a dark secret from his past. Had it all been merely an act on his part, a ploy to lure her into his arms, his bed? She vowed it would not happen and that, as soon as she had her emotions contained well enough, she would face him with the knowledge of what he had done to her. She only hoped that she could keep from crying when she did so.
The first thing Angel noticed when he pushed the door to the galley open was that it was filled with great smells; the second was that every one seemed to be busy. "Hi, everybody," he called out and looked immediately to see how Lorne was taking it.
Lorne had a frown on his face. He would not look straight at Angel. It figures. She doesn't want me because I'm green, but she's all over Glamour Boy.
"Lorne?" Angel asked.
"Yes, sir?"
"Having a good day?"
"I was."
"Anything you want to talk about?"
"Not now."
"Okay. Then I'll just be about my duties, but Crys is here to help after she gets some food," he said, looking at Piper.
"I thought she ate an apple?" Prue questioned helpfully. She looked at Crys in confusion.
Crystal's eyes were glued to the deck. She wished that she could hide behind Angel but knew better.
Blue spoke up, cooing loudly for all to hear, from his perch on Carl's shoulder. He told Prue that Crys had given him the apple instead and refused to eat a single bite but frowned when he realized that the woman could not understand him.
Elvira had been making her way over to Lorne but stopped when she heard Blue. Looking at Prue, she wondered if she might stand a better chance and repeated what her brother had just said.
Prue looked in confusion from Blue to Elvira. She had not been able to understand a single word the little dragon had said, but she heard Elvira's voice. It wasn't the sound she was making that Prue heard; it was as though she was talking straight to her brain, person to person, instead! Prue responded in a voice that only Elvira could understand. "I can hear and understand you! Why?"
Hearing their older sister speak in a canine language, all three of the other Halliwells screeched. Phoebe found herself dropping onto Joxer's lap, the support of her legs completely gone. Paige nearly fainted but grabbed hold to the table just in time, and the bowl Piper had been holding slipped from her frozen hands.
Lorne caught the bowl and turned to look to see what was causing the disturbance. Returning the bowl to a safe place on the table, he asked, "What? Can't a human talk to an animal?" He had missed the conversation between the woman and wolf due to the fact that he was griped at both Angel and Crys and had not been paying attention to anything but them. Crys had a glow, and Angel was his usual gorgeous self. Fury burned within Lorne at the thought of what they had been doing.
"Well, yes, of course . . . " Ororo answered slowly. "I-I've heard it before but never like this. Prue, do you realize that you are speaking in a . . . well, a lupine tongue?"
Prue looked at her family, her surprise clear on her face. "No. I just know that I can understand Elvira. I thought I was talking English." Four heads shook back at her, slowly moving from side to side.
Prue turned her attention back to Elvira and again went to talk to her. "What's going on, Elvira?" Her words came out in the lupine language for the second time. A grin split her face, and she broke out in English again. "If I can do this, I can talk to Brendan when he's in wolf form!"
"That must be why," Crystal spoke up at last. Looking at Prue, she asked, "Are you in love with a Werewolf?"
"Oh, yes," Prue breathed, "but he wolfs out every time I'm near him!"
"There is probably a part of you, then, that will be able to communicate with him regardless of what form he is in at the time. Elvira can understand English perfectly well, but perhaps . . . " She paused, frowning slightly, then asked, "Have you ever spoken, or attempted to, to a wolf before?"
"I've talked to Brendan when he was in wolf form, but I don't think he understood me," she replied with a small shake of her head. "He just got angrier. He wanted to eat me. The Captain knocked him out."
"Elvira must have somehow triggered that part of you, and if he was wanting to eat you, he may have simply been too angry to understand you at the moment."
A thrill shot up Prue's spine. If she could talk to Brendan when he wolfed, would it help him to control himself? She couldn't wait to get a chance to try it! All conversation was disrupted when the food was ready, and every one hurried around, putting the hot treasures on plates.
Wolverine had just closed the door to Jack's cabin when he sniffed the air. The scent of something cooking made his stomach rumble. "Think I'd better go get some o' that for 'Ro and me. Why don't you come along and get you some? By the way, Jack brought back a whole bunch o' stuff in a wagon, includin' a scruffy-lookin' donkey pullin' it. I think it's the stuff from your forge."
"I didn't have that much," Will admitted, confusion creasing his brow. "It was nowhere near a wagon full!" He also wondered why Jack would have brought the donkey but did not speak on that matter.
"Well, it looked like a wagonload to me. We can go check it out after we get somethin' to eat." Wolverine could see a line already forming outside the door to the galley. He grabbed a rope and swung over to the Witch.
Will glanced back at the closed door to Jack's room before following. He arrived just in time to hear Wolverine growl and see the crowd part, allowing him and Will to be the first ones in the door.
Wolverine looked at each of the other Pirates. "Ya scurvy lot, stay out here, an' we'll see when the food's gonna be done." They grumbled but did as ordered.
Wolverine and Will had barely made it inside the galley when Will froze in his tracks. His eyes, widened by surprise, had fallen onto the donkey. It was indeed the donkey from the smithy's, but what surprised Will even more was that the mischievous beast was sneaking a bottle of a dark liquid off of the table.
Piper turned from the oven, her hands full with two more trays that she was about to pass to Lorne, when her eyes fell on the donkey. He was throwing his head back and taking a long gulp of the bourbon when she screeched. "Drop that immediately!"
The donkey looked at her from around the brim of the vial, shook his head, and started to trot off. He froze in his tracks, however, as he caught sight of Will. His mouth opened instantly, the bottle falling to the deck and rolling. "Hey! There you are, man! I've been looking -- "
He was interrupted by Will's shocked yell. "You talk!"
Donkey rolled his eyes. "Yes, I talk! What is it with you people! Donkeys can talk; get over it already!" He chased after the bottle and reached it at the same time as Wolverine.
Wolverine had barely grasped the bottle when Donkey's mouth made a grabbing bite for it only to be met with Wolverine's fist. Donkey staggered back. "Hey! You hit me, man!" He immediately turned around, pointed his hooves back at Wolverine, and kicked him before Wolverine could react. His hooves struck Wolverine's gut, knocking him to the floor and sending the bottle flying. Wolverine moaned as his hands grabbed his gut.
Blue sailed off of Carl's shoulder so swiftly that the Gnome staggered back in surprise. His talons caught the bottle in mid-air. He started to take it to Piper but stopped at Lorne's side instead.
Lorne reached out and took the bottle. "Thank you, Blue." At least the dragon appeared to still like him.
While Blue had been rescuing the bottle, Will had raced over to Wolverine and Donkey. "Donkey!" he scolded. "You shouldn't have kicked him!"
"He hit me first!"
"That may be so, but that's because you were misbehaving and trying to steal that bottle!"
"I know," Donkey admitted, "but man, it tasted so good!"
"Which is precisely why you don't need it," Piper told him. "Why, there's no telling what alcohol would do to a donkey!"
"Alcohol?" Wolverine's head snatched up immediately. "What kind o' alcohol?"
"bourbon."
"That's sissy stuff," he dismissed it, "but I'd still keep it hid. Jack ain't been able to find any rum. He might take to drinkin' that instead. That's all we need."
Will looked questioningly at Wolverine and spoke before Piper could. "What do you mean?"
"The rum's disappeared, an' the Captain does love his rum," Wolverine replied. There were a lot of them aboard the ship who knew about Jack's problem, but they had managed to keep it quiet amongst them. For a brief moment, he had forgotten Will was there and that the boy would not have an ideal that the captain had a drinking problem. He was not going to tell him. Hopefully by the time Jack managed to find some rum, he would be dried out and wouldn't want it quite so badly.
He staggerdly got to his feet. "Hide that stuff, Miss Piper. Could I possibly have one of those good-smellin' things?" They looked like little biscuits filled with some kind of meat and topped with melted cheese, but he had never seen anything like them before and did not know what to call them.
"Of course," Piper told Wolverine with a gentle smile despite her worried eyes, "but you might want to let them cool a little bit longer. They're only the appetizers, however. The main meal's still cooking but will be done shortly." She could not help frowning then. "I do hope it's all right. I thought you'd probably all love bourbon chicken." She would never have thought that a Pirate wouldn't want alcohol and had chosen the meal for precisely that reason. Had she made an awful mistake?
"Gods, I can hardly wait for it! I had bourbon chicken one time before at Derek & Hansel's. I found Carl cleaning the pot out afterward. It was so good! Jack's gonna love it!"
Piper couldn't help beaming at that, but Paige's question brought another frown. "What do we have to drink?" she asked her. "I can fix them if you know where it is."
"Drink?" Wolverine repeated. It was the first time he'd thought about the missing rum causing a problem for everybody else besides just Jack.
"Water and blood," Angel answered. "That's about all we have."
"Water and blood!" Crys repeated, still standing next to him. "Surely you have to have something else?"
"Nope," Carl spoke up from where his eyes were glued to the luscious redhead. "We pretty much lived on that rum."
"Well, I simply can not see wasting such a delightful meal on nothing but water!" Crys exclaimed. "I could help on that, but I don't know . . . " She frowned, her voice trailing off.
"What is it, Crys?" Angel queried.
"Well, I could make something, but I don't know if any of you would want to eat it since I would literally be making it."
Angel was full of curiosity. What could Crys possibly make out of thin air that they could drink? "What is it?"
She shrugged. "I've never really bothered to name it. It's just a snow drink of sorts, but they love it," she said, gesturing with her gaze to Cindy, Blue, and Elvira.
Lorne's ears perked up. Could this be a chance that he could get more of Crys' attention? Angel couldn't drink it. He could only handle the blood, but Lorne could. "Crys," he called, "make it. I'll sample it."
She was not certain if she could trust herself near Lorne again but told herself that nothing could happen since there were, after all, so many others in the room with them. She nodded to him even as she forced her feet to carry her away from Angel's protective side and over to the table. "I'll need a mug to put it in," she paused, glancing at Piper, "and do you have any flavoring?"
"A few," she answered. "What would you like?"
Crys thought for a second, but Blue's coo made up her mind. "Vanilla?"
Piper nodded and moved off to retrieve the bottle, leaving Crys to look back at Lorne though her eyes would not meet his.
Lorne handed Crys a mug. His eyes desperately tried to connect with hers, but she would not look at him. Damn Angel! He could have any woman on the ship! Why did he have to pick his?
"Thank you," Crys spoke softly to him. She took the mug, but her fingers brushed across his as she did so, shooting sparks through them. She tried to ignore the feelings both his touch and presence invoked in her as she turned, set the mug onto the table, and cupped her hands over its mouth. Her fingers pointed down, and her ice blue eyes narrowed at the mug as she concentrated. Snow began to fall from her fingertips, drifting down into the mug and quickly piling up.
All eyes were glued on her, and Wolverine had to ask. "Doesn't that hurt, little one? It looks like it could be awful painful."
She shook her head, but her eyes did not raise from the mug. "Not at all." She rose one hand but still did not look up. "The vanilla, please?" She felt Piper place a bottle in her hand and began to add the vanilla, moving her other hand in circles so that the snow and vanilla swirled together.
Every one in the room's mouth watered for a taste as they watched the drink being made. Lorne reached out a hand and lifted it to his lips, his eyes never leaving Crys. He took a sip; then he took another one. "What is this?" he asked. "It's good!"
"I want some!" Carl cried. He reached up and tugged at Lorne's hand until he could get his hand on the mug. He took a swallow and had the mug snatched out of his hand by Wolverine. "Hey, I want some more of that! That's mine!" Carl complained.
"No, it's not! It's mine!" Lorne protested.
"No," Wolverine growled at them, "it's mine now!" He emptied the mug.
"Not fair!" some voices called. "I wanted some!" others said.
Angel had a sad look on his face. He wished he could taste it but knew that those days were behind him. In fact, he had never had those days, because his mother had never made him anything special to drink.
Crys had watched Lorne take the first sip while holding her breath, and she'd scarcely began to smile as he was enjoying it when Carl had reached out. As the mug began to be passed swiftly around and she found herself surrounded by others wanting more, she couldn't help laughing or the smile that burst out over her face.
Will had been watching the scene with great confusion on his face. Just what was the problem with Jack and rum? He could not get past that thought even as he watched the others converge on the blonde, all thrusting mugs out at her, and heard her laughter grow. Shaking his head, he finally moved forward. He collected two mugs and then began trying to figure out where the line was.
Lorne knew he had to get some kind of order, because not only did every one inside want some but the ones outside would, as well. "Back up. Give her room to breathe," he commanded as he sat several trays with mugs on them in front of her. Just as quickly as they were set before her, she filled the cups, mixing the snow and vanilla at a nearly blinding rate.
Even while she was busy filling the mugs, Crys managed to steal a glance at Angel who lingered behind all the others. Her joy started to fade when she saw the sad look on his face, but then she realized what his problem must undoubtedly be. He was a Vampire and, as such, could only drink blood. "Blue?" she called up.
The little dragon quickly flew down to his mistress and perched on her shoulder. She whispered so that only he could hear her, and he took off for Angel as she handed two freshly-filled mugs to Will. Blue headed swiftly for Angel and cooed to him as soon as he reached him.
Angel grinned. "Back in a minute," he replied eagerly and headed for his quarters. He was not gone long and returned with a small bag. He handed it to Blue. The dragon took the bag in his talons and very carefully carried it over to Crys.
Angel waited in expectation. Would she really make a drink just for him, and would it taste good? He was so tired of the same old taste of blood, but it was the only thing that stayed in his system.
"Piper," Crys called, catching sight of Blue on his return trip to her, "do you have any cinnamon?"
"Of course," she told her, walking off but quickly returning with a canister. She handed it to Crys as the blonde passed a mug to yet another Pirate.Lorne had been carrying trays of mugs outside and had not seen her send Blue to Angel. As fast as he took one tray out, another empty tray came back as the Pirates were making short work of the drinks.
The little meatpies were also swiftly disappearing. Prue barely managed to grab two of them and two mugs and headed out of the room, carrying them to Brendan and Wes. When she got there, Wesley was nowhere to be seen. She called out, "Brendan?", but there was no answer.
"Piper, I'm going to need a little bit of help with this one."
"Certainly. What do you need me to do?"
"While I'm adding the other liquid," Crys gestured with her head to the bag Blue held even as she took it from him, "I need you to add the cinnamon. Not a lot, just enough to add its flavoring to the drink."
Piper nodded, understanding what she meant but also wondering what in the world was in the bag. It looked like blood, but surely it couldn't be?
Crys opened the bag as though it contained nothing unusual. She was not bothered by the blood in the slightest and added it to the snow with no more thought than if it had been the vanilla flavoring she was putting in the others' drinks. Piper added the cinnamon, and soon the drink was done. "Angel?" Crys called out.
Angel stepped forward and gratefully accepted the mug. "Thank you," he whispered to her with a smile and backed up out of the way so that others could get close to her. With his back against the wall, he took the first sip. It was the first time in ages that he could remember blood actually tasting good to him, and he downed the mug in a hurried gulp. He'd thank her again later when he had the chance. Right now he wanted her to be the center for he knew she needed that.
He had noticed Prue leaving and, setting his cup down, decided he'd better go out and check to make sure that everything was all right. He was startled to see Wesley pass right by him. "Wes!" Angel exclaimed, grabbing his shoulder to stop him. "Why aren't you guarding Brendan?"
Wesley grinned at him. "He decided he'd come out."
"He's out here somewhere?"
"Not yet," Wesley replied, "but he said he'd be here soon and sent me off. And yes, Angel," he added before the other man could ask, "it was the man, not the wolf."
"Oh crap!" Angel exclaimed worriedly. "Prue just headed that way! She'll be there before either of us can get there!"
"Oh no!" Wes cried. "I never thought -- " He turned to race back the way he had come but nonetheless called out over his shoulder, "Save some for two, please!" He ran out, Angel hot on his heels.
Brendan was sitting cross-legged on the floor, examining two of his most precious belongings, when an all-too familiar scent met his nose. His head jerked up; then he heard a knock accompanied by Prue's voice. "Brendan?" Panic flashed over his face and eyes, and he swiftly rolled into the one hiding place that came to mind.
"Brendan?" she called again. "Are you in there? Wes is not out here." She stepped closer to the door and knocked on it a second time. "Brendan, can you hear me?" When no answer came, she tried the handle and found that it was unlocked.
Balancing the tray carefully, she managed to open the door and step inside. The room appeared to be completely deserted. She walked over to the table and carefully set the tray down on it. Where could they have gone? she wondered. She sincerely hoped Brendan was all right and had not had to be put in the cage.
She had been about to step away from the table when her eyes were caught by a painting that hung on the wall. It was gruesome in blacks and blood red, and it not only intrigued her but scared her at the same time. What could its meaning be? More engrossed in the painting than in what she was about, she stepped backward only to fall over something in the floor. She gave out a frightened squeal. She tried to catch herself but to no avail as she continued to fall toward the floor.
Brendan had watched Prue's every movement as she had carried the tray of delicious-smelling food to his table. He had watched her attention become fastened on his painting, but his breath had caught when he'd seen her foot catch on part of one of his drums. As she started to fall, he released a muttered oath and sprang out from under the bed, catching her just before she could hit the floor.
She had thought she was about to hit the floor when her fall was suddenly stopped by a pair of strong arms. She knew instantly that it was Brendan, and her heart fluttered. "Brendan?" she whispered. "Thank you for saving me." She made no move on him whatsoever but lay still within the circle of his arms.
"I brought you some food. Actually, it's just an appetizer; there'll be more later. I thought you were gone, though, and I was just going to leave it for you to get when you returned. I prayed you weren't in the cage; I was going there next. I fell over something."
She had momentarily forgotten why she had fallen but looked up into his face. She didn't know why she loved him so much. She felt like she had known him forever and that he was a missing part of her that she had at last found. "I promised Jack I wouldn't upset you. I hope I haven't." She finally hushed, allowing him a chance to talk.
Brendan had barely been aware of Prue's words for her scent, the pounding of her heart, and the feeling of her body inside his arms had enwrapped his every sense. His own heart pounded not only from the feelings that she sent sweeping through him but also from his fear. He thought for certain that he was a goner when her beautiful eyes gazed up into his panicky face but managed to keep the presence of mind to set her carefully back to her feet.
He heard her last words and assured her in a quick rush of words, "I am not upset but would have been had I been unable to catch you and keep you from falling. I have to leave, though." Without giving her a chance to reply, he ran from the room as if he were being chased by the worst kinds of Demons imaginable.
The first thing Angel and Wesley saw when they crashed upon the scene was the door was open and gently swinging in the breeze. Oh no! Angel thought. He's done her in! He didn't say anything but was about to race into the room when something came flying out, knocking both him and Wesley to the deck. "What the Hell!" he heard Wesley mutter even as the blur kept going.
"I think that was Brendan," Angel said, "not the wolf." His voice sounded puzzled. "But he's running. He must have done something."
They cautiously entered the room only to find Prue standing in the center of it, looking at the picture once more. "I'll go after him," Angel told Wesley. "You stay with her." Angel raced back out and headed in the direction he could smell Brendan. He kept thinking, He didn't wolf! What kind of a miracle was this?
He could see Brendan just ahead. He held on to the railing as though his life depended on it before he suddenly sailed over the top of the railing and straight into the water. Not again! Angel complained silently. I'm not going in there if I can help it! He looked down into the water. "Brendan? Are you down there?" He was about to jump into the water behind Brendan when he saw his friend's shaggy head come to the surface.
"Angel, it's coming!"
"It didn't come, Brendan. Don't you understand? It didn't come! For the first time, you didn't wolf!"
"But I will," Brendan's frantic voice called up to him, "if I don't get calmed down! My Gods, I had her in my arms, Angel!"
"Yes, Brendan, but you didn't wolf and you're not wolfing now! Look at you! What did you do?"
Brendan dipped again in the water, then bobbed back up, shaking his head like a dog and slinging off water in all directions. "I didn't think! She was falling, and I had to stop her!"
"You saved her, Brendan. It wouldn't have killed her, but it would have hurt her like heck. You're causing your own wolfing! Your nervousness, your anxieties . . . Prue's not doing it! You held her in your arms, and you did . . . not . . . wolf!" he stressed it to him again. "At long last, my friend, we've actually got something to work with!"
"You're right," Brendan admitted softly. "I didn't wolf, but it's only one time, Angel. I don't know why I didn't change and kill her on the spot; I only thank the Gods I didn't."
Angel looked down at him. "That's because that's not what's in your heart, Brendan. You want her. You don't want to eat her. You want her safe and in your arms, where she belongs." He wanted to sing to the Heavens. His friend had a chance to overcome his worst enemy -- himself! "Wait till Jack hears this!" Angel knew that Jack had expected it all along but would be thrilled to know that he was right. "Come; I'll help you get out." He threw a rope down.
Wesley stood quietly, watching Prue. He wasn't sure how to approach her. Finally, he spoke. "Miss Halliwell, are you okay?"
She turned around and looked at Wes. Her face shone, and she was surrounded by a glow. "He didn't wolf!" she cried joyously. "He didn't wolf! He held me, Wes, so gently, and he didn't wolf!"
Wesley couldn't believe what was going on. Jack had been saying for a long time that he thought that Brendan could control his wolfing, but he really had not known how to go about helping his friend nor had Wes known what to do. Now, for the first time, he realized that Jack was right, and yet he still did not know what to do. "Come, Miss Halliwell; we'd best get you back to your family. Brendan might be returning at any moment, and you really shouldn't be here."
She was reluctant to leave. Her hands reached out and gently stroked different items that lay on the table before her, finally coming to rest upon his hairbrush. She lifted and sniffed it, reveled in his scent on it, and then laid it back down. "Tell me, Wes, about the picture? I've never seen anything like it. Where did he get it from?"
"Frightening, isn't it?" Wes replied. "Brendan painted it. You really don't know what you're messing with, Miss Halliwell. He's a Werewolf, and that's something from his darker side. He painted it after one of his really bad spells. You'll have to ask him about it. I don't think it's my right to reveal that side of him. He may or may not answer you. Come away, Miss Halliwell; I'll take you back now," he repeated. He really wanted her out of there just in case Brendan did come back. "Thank you for bringing the food."
"I'll bring another tray when the rest gets done. This is just an appetizer," she repeated her earlier words to Brendan. She wondered just where he had ran off to. She wanted to see him one last time, but understanding where Wes was coming from, she knew she didn't need to be there when he came back.
"I don't know what I tripped over that caused me to fall. It was over here." She looked down at the spot on the floor where a set of drums sat. "Could that have been it?"
"Well, I'll be damned!" Wesley exclaimed. "I wondered who was doing the drumming!"
"Huh?" Prue asked, clearly confused over his reaction.
"When we have music, we have had a mysterious drummer," Wesley explained. "No one knew who it was. Now we know, and we'll keep Brendan's secret. If he had wanted us to know, he would have told us."
Prue walked out the door with a small smile on her face. She felt hopeful at last! Brendan had held her and had not wolfed, even though he had ran afterward. Her heart was so happy at that moment that she wanted to sing! Brendan had held her! It had felt so wonderful, and, miracle of miracles, he had not wolfed! She almost raced back to the galley, so eager was she to tell Piper, and nearly collided with Will who was on his way out.
Will carried the tray of food and mugs to the railing before stopping and looking across at the Pearl with great confusion on his face. He had every intention of getting the appetizer and drink to Jack, but how in the world was he supposed to get it over there without dropping it? His balance was good -- he had worked hard on it his entire life --, but he could not imagine any one's balance being that good.
Wolverine was making his way back to the Pearl as well. He saw Will stopped at the rail, holding the tray. "What's a matter, Will? Anythin' I can help you with?"
"I . . . don't know," Will answered hesitantly, his brow creased in confusion. "I need to get this food to Jack, but I don't know how I'm going to get it across without dropping it."
"No problem, kid; I'll take it. You get yourself over there." Wolverine took the tray and beat Will getting across without dropping so much as one drop. He wondered what was taking Will so long to get over there, then realized that the boy was staring at him in awed shock.
Shaking himself, Will swung over to join Wolverine. The very second his boots touched the deck, he told him, "You have to teach me that!"
"Yer either born with it or ya ain't born with it. It's not somethin' somebody can teach, but I'll work with ya on yer balance." He didn't say anything, but he had noticed in the past, being around Will, that the boy was slightly clumsy with some things though very agile with others. He put the clumsiness down to lack of experience. He had to hand it to the boy; he had plenty of spunk and was willing to try anything. "Ya been around as long as I have on a ship, ya learn to do things like that."
Will continued to look at Wolverine in amazement even as he told him, "Thank you." He reached out for the tray.
"I'll be around the backside, workin' on 'Ro's an' my bunk. If ya need anythin', give a holler. I imagine Jack'll sleep a while."
Will nodded to Wolverine as he took the tray. "I will, and thanks again."
"No problem, kid." He headed off around the top of the ship to the other side, leaving Will to continue toward the Captain's quarters.
The first thing Will noticed when he entered Jack's cabin was that Jack was nowhere to be seen. Shutting the door behind him with his foot, he walked further into the room. "Jack?" Still no answer met his ears, and he continued to call him a few times as he set the tray down on the dresser. He glanced at the mirror, wondering again why it was covered.
It was at exactly that moment that a huge roar sounded, shaking the very walls of the cabin. "Avast!" Will cried, spinning around and reaching, at first, for his sword. Remembering that he did not have his sword, he reached down and snatched up the Governor's. Again, another huge growling noise was heard. "Show yourself!" Will yelled, turning toward the bed where the noise seemed to be coming from.
Had something came in there, eaten his Jack, and crawled under the bed? He could see nothing but yet another growl came. Squaring his shoulders, Will walked toward the bed. Thrusting his sword underneath the bed, he demanded, "Come out of there, ya scurvy dog! Show yaself!"
"Damn you, Will! Ya almost poked my eye out!" came Jack's voice from under the bed. "What are you doing? Shouldn't you be in bed?"
The very second that Jack's voice met his ears, Will withdrew the sword and tossed it aside. Dropping to the floor, he peered under the bed and saw that Jack, sure enough, lay under there. He quickly looked away as he realized that he still had not bothered to put on any clothes.
Jack opened one eye and looked at Will. "Well? Shouldn't you be in bed?" he repeated. Without waiting for an answer, he turned over and started snoring again.
Will pushed the sword away from him. It skidded across the floor as he reached further under the bed. His hand groped blindly until he managed to find Jack's shoulder, and he shook him. "Jack, wake up. There's food to be had."
"Food, you say?" Jack rolled over, this time to face Will. "Bring it down here."
"There's also drink."
"Well, bring it too. Rum?" he asked hopefully.
Will shook his head. "No. Actually, I don't know what to call it, but it's delicious." He'd already taken a sip of his own. "It's some kind of snow treat."
"Doesn't sound good," Jack said. "Ain't got rum in it. Did you know my rum's gone? Every bit of it. I have looked everywhere!" He gave a huge yawn.
Will, still trying desperately not to look directly at Jack, replied, "Actually, yes, I did hear something about that. What is it with you and rum?"
"It's the most delicious drink! It's my very sustenance!" Jack's words were slurred from sleep. "I'm dying without it, Will! It keeps me going." In mid-speech, he started snoring again.
"Jack!" Will exclaimed, shaking him again. This time, Jack did not respond. Still shaking him, Will moved further under the bed so that he could grasp his other shoulder and shake him harder.
Jack, sound asleep, grabbed Will to him and rolled over, taking him with him. Lying on his side, he then proceeded to lay his left leg over Will, trapping the boy under him and using his chest for a pillow.
Will struggled but could not break free as he was not willing to use any real force against Jack. He could feel Jack's sword touching his leg through his breeches, and he thought he would melt on the spot. His heart thundered in his ears, and his mind whirled frantically. He had to get away! He had to . . . His eyes fell on Jack's face, and his breath was taken even further away. "J-Jack?" he breathed shakily.
Jack snuggled in closer to Will. It was the softest, most wonderful feeling Jack had ever felt, and it felt so right to lay there. He knew he had to be dreaming. Will could not possibly be there, not really. His fantasies were coming true! Will was in his bed! Now what to do with him? Jack snored softly, not wanting to wake from his delicious dreams of Will.
Will had heard some fairy tales as a child growing up, but he had never been able to understand the fascination over the one called Sleeping Beauty . . . until now. After all, a sleeping woman was just a woman, but his beloved Jack asleep . . . He pressed his lips together to silence the sigh in his throat. With Jack's dark spikes of lashes hanging down over his eyes so that he could not see their depths and his rugged face framed by his raven hair, he had never looked more handsome. No other man could ever come close, Will thought, as he found himself moving closer to Jack's mouth. He froze, however, as his leg slid against Jack's sword. Taking a deep breath, he moved again, ignoring the repeated sensation as best he could.
His mouth was inches from Jack's, his eyes searching every inch of his handsome face. Jack was asleep, Will thought. He'd never know. Yet he really shouldn't be doing this. Jack trusted him, and it would be taking advantage of him. But it would only be one kiss. One splendid, marvelous, world-shattering kiss that Jack would never know about but that he could treasure for the rest of his life, no matter what happened when he finally told Jack the truth of his feelings for him. Will inhaled deeply again, and Jack's heady scent shot straight to his loins. Leaning closer, Will brushed his lips softly across Jack's, taking just a brief taste of the nectar that proved to be sweeter than any he'd ever before dreamed of.
Jack stirred in his sleep, trying to get even closer to Will. He was so deep in sleep that he did not feel the touch of Will's lips on his. Some part of him instinctively began to nuzzle Will's neck, however, and his body moved still closer to Will . . .
