Late night revelations

A/N: I'm adding my two cents worth to the "Ed meets Mary" fics collection that's out there.

In retrospect, Mary Allamby Bonnet couldn't really tell what it was that had awoken her. But she heard the subtle noise right after she opened her eyes.

There it was again. A clank. It sounded – wooden. And it came from downstairs.

When the noise came again, she shook Doug awake.

More curious than alarmed, they donned their dressing downs and slippers and made their way down the short stairway to the ground floor. What they saw from the threshold to the living room, however, made Mary's blood run cold.

A man was crouched before the fireplace, his back to them, dropping another wooden log into a merrily burning fire that definitely had not been burning when they retired for bed.

He was dressed in all black. Unkempt dark hair, liberally streaked with grey, hung halfway down his back. His face was turned towards the fire, but Mary didn't need to see his face to know that this was a complete stranger. An Intruder.

Doug was pushing her backwards and behind him. She was backing up a step when a baritone voice stopped her in her tracks.

"I was wondering how much longer it would take before you wake up."

Doug and Mary stood frozen, watching as the man slowly rose from his crouch and turned towards them. Lord, he was tall. Broad shoulders covered in black leather, tattoos running down the length of his arm, the salt-and-pepper mane framing his face like a halo in the lambent light from the fireplace. A ruggedly handsome face, weather-beaten, with a stubbled jaw, dark eyes boring into her from across the room.

Dark as night – and full of grief.

The pistol and knife at his belt were sheathed and he made no move to reach for either, but he nevertheless looked menacing and dangerous. Doug grabbed the first thing within his reach to use as a weapon, which turned out to be a broom leaning up against the wall. He hefted it in a two-handed grip in an attempt to look threatening, but the only reaction it elicited from the intruder was a raised eyebrow that said, 'Really?' before he turned his attention back to her.

"Mary Bonnet?"

"Who are you and how did you get in here?" barked Doug, but the stranger never took his eyes off Mary when he replied, "you need some better locks, mate."

Mary held the man's scrutinizing gaze. Hearing her name from his lips just cemented her burgeoning suspicion that this was no random burglary attempt. But maybe she could still steer it that way, could make him leave quickly and quietly. The children were sleeping upstairs, after all.

She clutched her dressing gown tighter to her with one hand and made a sweeping gesture around the room with the other. "I don't care who you are or how you got in. Just take what you want and leave, and we won't report this to the authorities. No harm, no foul." She tried to keep her voice steady and hoped that he wouldn't notice the slight shaking of her hands.

The stranger didn't move. "I don't want any of your shit. I'm only here for some honest answers." He looked between the two of them. "About Stede."

"What…. what questions?" Mary's heart was thundering in her chest. Had their ruse been found out?

"About how he died. I heard three different versions of how it happened and they all sound fucking insane. I want to know…" he took a strangled breath. "I need to know the truth."

And just like that, Mary knew. The bottomless misery in his eyes and his voice told her all she needed to know. "Oh my god. You are Ed."

At the mention of that name, the man stiffened and stared at her, hard. Mary could almost envision the gears turning in his head, weighing the pros and cons of revealing his identity. He seemed to be searching her face, although for what Mary wasn't sure, so she simply waited, gazing at him in return. Taking in the man her ex-husband had so firmly fallen for.

After a few moments his eyes softened and he inclined his head in confirmation. "I am Ed."

Yet the moment the man's name passed his own lips, Mary's heart lurched with a sudden terrible realization. "But if you are here, asking about Stede… then that means….." She looked at Doug, and the foreboding she saw in his eyes must have mirrored her own.

"…he didn't find you," Doug finished. "Damn!"

Ed looked between them, scowling. "The fuck you talking about?"

Doug sighed, then turned and strode towards a sideboard that held a set of crystal glasses and a large decanter. Ed's eyes followed him, gloved hand reflexively reaching for the handle of his gun when Doug reached for the bottle. Doug held up his hand in a disarming gesture. "Just getting us all a drink," he said, his movements slow and deliberate as he poured a finger's width of brandy into each glass. "I think we're gonna need it."

Mary's heart went out to the slumped form in the armchair across from her. Ed was cradling his empty glass in one hand and the now nearly-empty decanter in the other. He looked…. wrung-out, a myriad of emotions flittering across his face while he was desperately trying to process the incredible tale Mary and Doug had spent the past half hour telling him. She sat quietly, giving him time to gather himself. Next to her on the settee, Doug was doing likewise.

"So you're saying that…" he stopped, blinked, cleared his throat. "you all faked his death, that he is alive and…"

"…and looking for you," she finished for him.

"But why?" Ed's voice was low, raspy. "Why did he come back here in the first place when he could've gone away with…." A pained expression ran across his face. He looked at the decanter, then the glass, then lifted the bottle to his mouth.

With you? Watching him drink, Mary couldn't help wondering what happened between them and it surprised her that she genuinely wanted to know. The first few days after Stede's return, he had talked incessantly about his time at sea, had bothered and bored them all with his obviously tall tales of adventures, pirate raids, swordfights and his collaboration with Captain Blackbeard. Back then she had barely listened, too upset about his unwelcome return; now she wished she knew more – especially about the man across from her. Stede had never mentioned Ed until that fateful night when she tried to kill him and instead they ended up baring their hearts to each other about their respective loves.

And now Stede's love was sitting right across from her, so close that their knees were almost touching, with the evidence that Ed more than reciprocated Stede's feelings written all over his face. Feeling bold, she reached out and laid a hand on his forearm, waiting until Ed's eyes found hers.

"I don't know why he came back," she said. "He never really explained it. But what I do know is that he wanted to die properly so he could live to be with you. He has made his choice. Everything else you'll have to ask him yourself."

Ed nodded, never breaking her gaze. "I will."

"Would you like to see the grave?" Doug asked. "Mary made it up really nicely, with flowers and engravings…."

"No." Ed rose, surprisingly steady on his feet after the amount of brandy he had consumed. "I've got to go. After everything I've heard from you, I don't have a fucking minute to waste." He handed her the decanter and glass and made for the door, urgency now radiating off him with every step. Doug and Mary hurried after him.

"Where will you start looking?" Doug asked as they followed him down the hallway. "He has about a week's worth of a head start on you and he didn't say anything about where he was going."

Ed had reached the front door, but he paused with a hand on the doorknob. "Don't matter. I'll find him," he said and the confidence in his voice had a strangely soothing effect on Mary.

Ed had turned into a man on a mission, and whatever had happened between him and Stede didn't seem to matter anymore; he would find Stede, however long it took. Mary was sure of it.

A gust of cool air ruffled her dressing gown when Ed opened the door and Mary called to him before he could step outside. "Ed?"

He turned to her and Mary was relieved to see that the despair in his eyes had vanished, replaced by determination and…hope?

"Once you've found him, maybe you can send us some kind of sign that you two are all right."

A slow nod. "Will do."

Ed crossed the threshold into the darkness of the predawn, took a few steps, then paused. His head turned, and although the gloom now hid his face, his voice rang out strong and clear. "Thank you."

And then he was gone. A shadow swallowed by the night.

The package arrived eight months after Ed's visit. It contained no information about its origins. Nevertheless, eight months of wondering whether Ed had been successful at finding Stede came to an end when Mary untied the burlap wrapping to find a plain but sturdy rectangular wooden box, roughly the size of a brick. Her hands shook slightly while she broke the wax sealing that held down the lid. Inside she found a bag of exquisite cream-colored silk, tied with a braided silk cord. The earthy and slightly spicy aroma of tea leaves hit her the moment she untied the cord, yet it was exotic, a tea scent she had never smelled before.

She inhaled once more, a smile spreading across her face. Chinese tea, she was pretty sure of it. Gingerly, she lifted the bag. There was no message anywhere inside the box, but in a corner she spotted two small objects.

A quick shake of the box, and a moment later she held a cuff link and a lock of hair in the palm of her hand. The salt-and-pepper strand, tied with a tiny black string, needed no explanation. Mary held the cuff link closer to the candle. A simple oval of shiny silver, devoid of initials or any other markings, yet she recognized it right away; was it the Christmas of 1714 or 1715 that she had given Stede this set?

Ed had sent the promised signal and the message was loud and clear. We made it, and we are together.

Mary let out a happy sigh while she put everything back in the box. Nothing in this life was guaranteed, especially not safety and security. So to know that they had managed to find each other and were now navigating their lives together was a huge relief.

A line from Cervantes' Don Quixote appeared before her mental eye. 'I am a fire afar off, a sword laid aside.'

How fitting. Mary was sure that, wherever they were, they had left piracy behind, and she wished them nothing but the best with whatever life they had built with each other.

Where were they? What were they doing? Maybe she'd find out some day. Maybe, years from now, there might once again be noises in the middle of the night to wake her up; and when that happened, she would get up, unafraid, and enter the living room with a smile on her face to greet her late-night visitors from far away.

THE END