Ok, mates. This is for Lone Wolf who asked me to write a scene where Bree drives Davy up the wall and he goes ballistic. I had fun writing this. So, here it is! This is set in the gap of events between chapters 11 and 12. We get to see Davy and Bree's interaction after the dress incident!

Bree slowly unfolded herself from her hammock, her face set like stone. She was still fuming on the inside, her emotions uncertain. She clenched a fist, her claws cutting into her palm. Anger was making her dizzy. She had decided on one thing…

I'll make 'im pay! He'll pay for humiliatin' me!

And for making her heart swell with unknown, frightening emotions.

Jones didn't hear the girl emerge on deck until he heard her voice. He tensed, his tentacles clenching. Not now. He didn't want to have to deal with her. He was still shaken by the feelings she had stirred deep within him.

But Jones wasn't given the luxury of ignoring the girl. He felt something strike him hard in the back. All activity ceased. Jones' tentacles began writhing slowly. He turned at a painfully slow speed, his pale blue eyes lit with a cruel fire. They landed on Bree.

The girl was standing with her legs spread apart as if in a fighter's stance. Her fierce blue eyes were blazing and in her hand she clutched a belaying pin. Blood trickled down her lip as she bared her teeth, actually scraping her own skin. Her fins were standing up straight as her hackles rose. A savage growl was issuing from her throat.

Jones knew the cause of her anger. She would never be over the dress incident. Never. And he wasn't sure if he would be either.

But that was no excuse for this behavior. Insubordination! Striking a superior officer!

Jones stooped slightly, snaking out one of his tentacles and picking up the belaying pin that lay by his feet where it had ricocheted from his hard muscled shoulder. He twirled it almost lazily, his gaze landing on Bree again. He spoke in a dangerously low voice, "I suppose ye threw this?"

Bree didn't back down, rage in her eyes. Jones thought he could detect a bit of pain in her fathomless blue depths as well. But he paid no heed to it.

Bree stepped forward, the belaying pin grasped tight in her claws. She raised it threateningly, snarling, "Ye humiliated me an' threatened my honor, fish-face!"

Jones didn't seem too stung by the jibe. He answered coolly, "Listen, whelp…I don't care about yer honor. It seems I carried out my plan very well."

Throck!

The onlookers all drew in their breath sharply. Jones didn't stumble back at all, but his head was thrown sharply to the side as the belaying pin slammed into the side of his face. He didn't make a sound.

Bree was so enraged that she hardly realized what she was doing. Then, Jones began turning to face her, slowly…far too slowly. His eyes were flaming. A livid mark was appearing on his cheek.

Bree felt it all hit her. She dropped the belaying pin, beginning to back up, her eyes wide as she saw the death in Jones' face. But Jones snaked out a tentacle, grasping her arm tightly, cutting off the blood flow. Bree gasped, realizing how foolishly she had acted. Then, desperate, she sank her fangs into Jones' tentacle.

Jones grunted, instinctively letting go. Bree turned and fled.

Jones was after her, his peg leg hitting the deck hard. But the anger he was feeling seemed to lend aid to his limbs and a strange agility.

Bree ran hard, knowing that on a ship of limited space there was no way for her to evade Jones. No one made a move to stop her and the crew all backed away, knowing this was not their fight.

Jones still had the belaying pin in his tentacle. He clutched it hard, his eyes burning with vicious hatred. I'll flay the hide from 'er back!

Bree slid towards the bow, flying up the stairs and trying to get away, dodging either side of the wheel, trying desperately to keep away from Jones. But he seemed to be just behind her, keeping up easily. He actually had hold of her arm but she managed to yank herself free. All the while she was crying out inwardly What have I done?

Bree dodged around barrels and ropes, tripping over a pile of tackle and falling heavily. She managed to wriggle free, kicking at Jones as he came after her. Bree gave vent to a cry, a cry of desperation. She at last reached the side, vaulting over the railing.

But Jones had moved quicker than bargained for. He caught Bree by the back of her jerkin, hauling her roughly back over. He threw her down and then heaved her back up savagely, snarling into her face, "Ye need to learn how to use a belayin' pin properly, missy! Let me show ye!"

And with that, he threw the belaying pin from his tentacle to his hand and commenced with a cruel beating.