Hello my lovelies! Sirocco here, Lily's co-author, and now, apparently, account-hacker ;) Lily's computer has taken a bit of a bashing and is being repaired, but FEAR NOT, I have copies of the files mwahaha! Many apologies for the massive delay in posting; it's a long story (even longer than this one). But here is some more silliness for you all, and I have more just waiting to be posted, so please review and we will love you forever and ever and ever. (( makes heart shape with fingers ))
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After his brief introductory remark to Mulder, Captain Halcón turned his attentions to Soledad and Yelena. "¡Volved a trabajar (Get back to work) !"
The girls exchanged irritated looks but complied, leaving the room and closing the door behind them. He took a step closer, allowing Mulder the opportunity to get a better look at him. He was a fairly tall man with a dark goatee, although nowhere near as extravagantly styled as Jack's had been. He had long black curly hair, which Mulder suspected was a wig, and gave him a slight Captain Hook-esque look. He wore a long dark green frock coat; knee high boots with big buckles on the front and in his hands carried a large hat, which he'd had to remove to allow him to pass comfortably through the door. He glanced down at Mulder, casting him a despairing look before bending down and rifling through Mulder's things. He stopped as he found Mulder's badge. Straightening, he opened it.
"Agent Fohss Moldeh."
"Yes sir," Mulder replied. "FBI." Halcón looked confused for a moment, then threw the badge over his shoulder, where it landed a few feet away on the floor.
"My men have just given me your rather interesting gun," Halcón continued, speaking with an almost comical Spanish accent and pulling the aforementioned item from his coat pocket. Mulder made a move to reach for it, but quickly pulled his hand back. He'd had enough of a beating after trying to get it back from the normal crew so he was sure he wouldn't like the consequences for trying to retrieve it from the captain of the ship. "Where did you get it from?"
"America… Sir," Mulder answered.
At this Halcón looked mildly impressed.
"America? You're reasonably well travelled then. You might be some use after all." With this he crossed to the door, opened it and shouted, "Gillpoyo!"
Among the noise drifting down from the rest of the ship, a gruff voice called "Aye, Cap'n!", and heavy feet could be heard hammering down stairs towards the door. Mulder gulped.
The man who appeared could not have contrasted Halcón's appearance more if he tried: next to the captain's lean, stately form, Gillpoyo was thick-set and muscular, his skin rough and weathered, an ugly scar cutting across his right cheek. He lacked the frock coat that Halcón's other officers all seemed to have, wearing only a dirty off-white shirt with his tattered brown trousers. While Halcón had an air of cunning and underhand manipulation, Gillpoyo was clearly his no-nonsense asset, clearing the way of anything out of line. The hardened skin on his knuckles said as much.
Mulder unconsciously brought his knees up in a defensive posture, aware that if anyone were to attack him again, this would be the man.
"Gillpoyo," Halcón continued, gesturing toward Mulder, "This is your new foremast hand. Find him some work with the others. It's your job to beat him into shape." Halcón turned to leave but, pausing in thought for a moment, faced Gillpoyo once more. "But if he tries anything stupid, I want to know." Putting his hat under his arm, he spun round with a twirl of coattails and strutted out of the room, disappearing up the stairs.
"Come on then you," Gillpoyo spoke in a gruff voice, grabbing Mulder by the scruff of the neck. Mulder however, unable to control his nausea any longer, lurched abruptly forward and proceeded to empty the contents of his stomach all over the floor.
"Don't be so dramatic," Gillpoyo barked. "You'll soon find your sea legs." Reclaiming his hold on the back of Mulder's shirt, Gillpoyo unceremoniously shoved him up the stairs and onto the main deck. Snatching a mop from its position leaning against a railing, he thrust it into Mulder's hands.
"Alright, now swab the deck!" Mulder stared back blankly. Gillpoyo sighed in frustration before spying Yelena a few feet away. Roughly taking hold of her arm, he dragged her to where Mulder was standing.
"You can show him what to do, you're supposed to be doing it anyway."
Yelena stared defiantly back.
"I thought I was supposed to be tightening the rigging."
"I've already told you there's no way I'm trusting you with the rigging after the little stunt you pulled last time." Yelena looked over at Soledad, who was also swabbing the deck nearby, and exchanged small smiles while Mulder simply looked on, utterly confused by the whole situation. Seeing the look, Gillpoyo grabbed a mop and bucket and threw them at Yelena.
"Just get on with it," he ordered before walking away, leaving them to their task.
"Gilipollas," Yelena muttered, just loud enough for Soledad to hear, before the pair started chuckling softly to themselves. Mulder glanced at Yelena, noticing a large red mark on the arm that now held her mop.
"Are you ok?" he asked. Off her confused look, he gestured at her arm, prompting her to look down. Capturing his gaze again, she simply shrugged.
"You think that a little shove is something to worry about? You've clearly never served under Halcón's officers before." Mulder raised his eyebrows, a look of slight shock passing over his face. Yelena gave him a wry smile, dipping her mop into the bucket of water at her feet and motioned for Mulder to do the same.
"Come on, let's get this over with."
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Night had fallen over the seas. Aboard The Endurance, Jack had left Gibbs in charge of the navigation and retreated to his cabin or, more accurately, his stash of rum. Two empty bottles lay on the table before him, and he was just uncorking his third when there was a soft knock at the door.
"Come in!" he called, and the door swung open to reveal Scully standing there. Jack straightened as best he could after consuming two bottles of rum and smiled broadly at her.
"And what can I do for you at this late hour my dear?" Before she could answer he continued, "Come in! Come in and shut the door." Scully shot him a slightly puzzled expression before complying, moving to stand closer to the table.
"I was just wondering where it is that I'm supposed to sleep." He leered at her before replying.
"Well, you could always share my hammock." Off her look he wiped the leer off his face and tried a different approach.
"Sit down," he gestured wildly in the general direction of the chair opposite him, "and have some rum." Apprehensively, not knowing exactly where this was heading, Scully crossed to the chair and sat down, folding her hands in front of her and resting them on the wooden surface.
"Here," Jack offered her the bottle and after a moment's pause she took it, tipping her head back and taking a long swig, setting it down again once she was finished. Jack stared at her.
"What?" she asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Nothing, nothing, you just don't look like the type who should be able to drink rum like that." Scully smiled slightly.
"Well I am Irish. Being able to drink is kind of a rite of passage in my family." Jack grinned.
"In that case, I think you and I may just get along."
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Ehehehe. Oh yes, they will. Thanks for sticking with us, now hit that review button and make two writers smile :)
Until the next update... xxx