Author's Note: Sorry for the wait on this one! Been really busy lately trying to get everything done for graduation! :) Done, ready, and can't wait for the day haha XD

Chapter 7

Vane stood on the deck of the other ship, watching his men loading the goods onto his own. In the end, his crew had few injuries, and killed most of the other crew before they finally surrendered. Vane himself was injured, but he planned to ignore it for now. He took a drag from his cigar, and walked to where the other ship's remaining crew were.

"I have taken your ship, taken your cargo, and killed your friends. Now I give a choice. Stay here, on this crew, with the man who chose to fight, resulting in this outcome, or ya can have balls and brains to join mine." Vane took another drag of the cigar, noting the unrest in the crew. Finally, one man spoke.

"Why should we join you? As you said, you took our ship by force, killing men we knew, and are stealing the cargo we defended! What benefi-"

"Why? I am offering you freedom, and the chance to be what you are - Men, with a will of your own. A chance to not have a tyrant who doesn't care for you rule over you, but to decide for yourselves who follow. Power, fear of the people...Respect. But if you're too coward to take it..." He turned, starting to walk away.

"Wait!" A different voice, that one. "I'll join your crew, if you'll have me." He glanced over his shoulder, watching the young man who had spoken try not to flinch at the cries of traitor. After a moment, another man joined him, but that was it. Vane inclined his head towards the Ranger, and then went to cross back over to her himself. As he walked, he felt the pain in his side worsen a bit, and decided that maybe he'd pay the little fire-ball a visit. Besides that conversation earlier, he hadn't really seen or spoken to her in a couple days.

Marie was busy trying to dig a bullet out of a man's shoulder. It was a gruesome task, and the damn fool wouldn't stay still for it. For fuck's sake, he's lucky the damn thing didn't hit anywhere else or break or something! Could he be grateful? No.

"I swear, if you don't fucking hold still, I'm going to take this fucking bullet and SHOVE IT INTO YOUR PENIS!" She raised her voice at the last part due to the fact he jerked again, causing her fingers to slip off the damn thing. Again. Suddenly though he went quite still, and she wondered briefly if she should be worried he took her seriously.

Maybe... She thought to herself, finding the bullet again. ...I would do it. So his concern is just...

Finally, she yanked the bullet out, grumbling at the poor man as she applied pressure to the wound with a cloth. Really, you'd think he'd have had the decency to pass out after getting shot, but no. He had to be awake, and fighting her. She felt the bleeding lessen, and after a few more minutes removed the cloth. With a sigh, she set about sewing the wound shut, still grumbling at the man.

"How do you think he'll do, Marie?" The Doc asked, coming to stand next to her in the small cramped room.

"Can't say. He has a strong fighting spirit, but fever..." She shook her head as she finished her task, and was relieved to see that the man had fallen unconscious. Good. "Theres a chance he'll make it though." The Doc nodded, and went to check on one of the other less injured men. The one who got shot was actually the worst injured out of all of them.

A few minutes later, as she washed her hands, she heard the sound of footsteps and someone stop behind her. Somehow she just knew she was going to hate seeing who it was, so continued to scrub her hands clean in the bucket of water before her. He shifted closer, and Marie stiffened just slightly, acutely aware of his foreboding presence.

"Marie." Charles' grumbled her name lowly down at her.

"Yes, Captain?"

"...I've been injured." Marie blinked, and then turned to look up at the man.

"What the hell did you do?" She growled up at him, and he narrowed his eyes at her slightly, opting not to answer. She glowered at him for a moment before noticing the blood on the right side of his shirt. "...Sit over there." Marie motioned to what was probably the Doc's cot, and turned to grab some fresh cloth. Charles reached out and grabbed her forearm, firmly but gently.

"Not here." His voice left no room for argument, and after a moment she sighed, shaking herself free with a nod. The man turned and strolled from the Doc's room, heading towards his own quarters. After grabbing her supplies, and a bucket of somewhat fresh water, Marie took off after him.

As she came onto the deck of the ship, she nearly ran into some man carrying a barrel. However, they managed to avoid any incident, filling her with more than a small amount of satisfaction. She spotted Charles waiting for her across the way, and headed towards him, starting to brood again. It was about two days before that she had been in that room with him, and they had come to blows...Well slaps, but they counted, right?

She followed Charles back into his room, glaring at his broad back. She imagined taking a knife and stabbing him, but pushed the idea aside. Skinning him would be more fun. They entered the room, and Charles waved her pass him before closing the door. Marie half expected the room to look exactly like it had when she left, but it didn't.

In fact, it looked much worse. The blanket was back on the bed, but there were papers and broken glass all over the place. Some papers appeared to have been gathered up, but the majority of items that had been on Charles' deck during the storm were everywhere. Literally.

"What the fuck...?!"

"Ignore it." He grunted at her, walking pass her, already stripping to his waist. She blinked, feeling her cheeks grow warm as the bare skin of his back was exposed. With a shake of her head, she chided herself, demanding to know what did she think was going to happen? Of course he'd have to remove his shirt. Charles sat down in his chair, and looked at her expectantly. With a sigh, she walked over and set her supplies down on the desk.

"Right then...Lets see what you did..." Marie turned to Charles, and immediately looked at the several inch long gash on his right side, sucking in her breath in a small gasp. The bleeding had nearly stopped, only a little bit oozing every now and then. "Stitches." She said bluntly, and then turned, dipping a rag in the bucket. After wringing it out, she turned back to him, concentrating solely on the wound as she knelt next to him to wash it.

"How exactly did this happen?"

"Fight." He replied gruffly, watching her disinterestedly. Marie scowled slightly, shooting a glare up at him.

"...Clearly...Not what I asked. I said ex-"

"I know what you said." It was clear he didn't give a damn though. She glared at him, and rinsed the cloth, mentally cursing him. Marie resumed washing the blood away, lips pursed into a fine line. Charles sighed after a moment, shifting, and she growled at him.

"Don't move!" Charles snorted, and she scowled at him, standing up. "I mean it." She turned, setting the cloth aside and grabbed her needle and thread. Ignoring him for a moment, she threaded the needle carefully, pulling the thread until she had more than enough for her task. Picking up a pair of old scissors, she neatly snips it, and turns back to him. "This is probably going to hurt."

Marie knelt next to him again, and set about sewing the wound shut, yanking the thread through first. Charles didn't react, and just watched her as she growled things at him, roughly sewing his wound closed.

"I can't believe you allowed this happened." She muttered at him, yanking the thread through again, tugging it roughly to make extra sure it was a close stitch. Every time she made some comment, she made sure he knew she was displeased with him. Charles never reacted, which only annoyed her even more. "What is with idiot men" - another yank - "and getting themselves injured then try to act tough about it? You'd think they'd have enough brains" -Tug- "to avoid serious injuries. But nooo!"" Really hard yank. Charles didn't bat an eyelash, and even stifled a yawn at the last part.

Damn man... She reached the end of his wound, and tied the stitches off with one final tug.

"If you're through.." He never even flinched during the whole process, and stood up, as if dismissing her. Marie stood up as well, feeling annoyance shift to anger again.

"I am not through. I have to bandage it."

"Leave it."

Marie scowled, watching him grab his shirt, and then darted forward, snatching said shirt from it. He blinked, and glanced down at her, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"I will not leave it." She growled up at him, and Charles smiled slightly at her. He leaned down until his face was inches from hers, and she stiffened, feeling her cheeks grow warm again. Charles grabbed the shirt, and pulled it from her grasp.

"I said leave it.." He said calmly, looking her right in the eyes, before stepping back and yanking on the shirt. She stood there, blinking, and watched him leave the room.

"...Wh...what...what the fuck just...happened?!"

Went a little weird there lol. Idk, I just couldn't keep from writing that part like that, so I went with it :) XD... Hope you enjoyed. :P