I almost didn't write tonight because I made the mistake of taking a nap (never again) and woke up feeling like I was just run over by a Mack truck. I'm feeling much better now, though, and ready to write. I really am loving this story. Enjoy!
Chapter Twelve
Alexis took to her sword with all the grace and finesse that could be expected from a girl of her age and size, swinging the thing around wildly once she was above deck, giggling when Ryan and Esposito each grabbed a stick of their own (Ryan with the broom handle and Esposito the mop) and pretended to fence with her, obviously allowing the little girl to win over them. The both crumpled to the ground dramatically when she bested them and the redhead danced around them for a few moments before checking to see if they were actually hurt, much to Lanie and Jenny's adoration.
Even the tougher exterior of Tory and Kate was cracked as they watched the concerned little girl poking at the boys with her wooden sword, squealing as Esposito finally sat up with a grunt. She hid behind her father's legs as he laughed and patted her head.
"It's okay, Pumpkin," he soothed. "They're not going to hurt you; you're too fine a swordsman…err, swordsgirl."
Alexis beamed at that, swing her sword in the boys' direction once more, before squealing as they make to go after her, hiding once again behind her father's legs.
"Alright now!" Lanie interrupted, holding up her arms as she stepped between them, an impromptu mediator. "Time for baby girl's lessons now. We gon' learn how to make a dress today, pretty girl," she cooed. "Tory!"
The older woman blinked at her as her name was called, confused at first, before vehemently shaking her head.
"Oh no!" she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You ain't getting me in no dress, Calypso," her nickname for the other girl, "not a chance in hell!"
"You are the only girl available," Lanie rebutted. "Jenny has to help Antonio wit lunch, the captain is steering, and I will be making the dress, o' course! Besides, the captain has already given her permission. Now, come."
"Captain?" Tory asked, looking at Kate with an expression of the deepest betrayal. Kate just shrugged.
"Lanie sells those dresses for ten shillings, easily," she replied. "And we're not in need of your services today; we've got all stations covered. Go and be of some use; either this or you can wash out the chamber pots."
"I'd rather wash them!"
Kate rolled her eyes. "Just bloody go, already!" she groaned. "If Lanie finishes five dresses by supper, you won't have to do it again for at least a month."
"Two months," Tory argued.
"Two months for seven dresses, then," Kate challenged.
Tory thought on it for a moment, before sighing and nodded.
"Deal then," she said, before reluctantly following Lanie and Alexis down to her workroom.
When they were gone, Castle turned to Kate with a wry grin.
"I'd pay ten shillings just for a glance at her in a dress," he told the captain, who snorted.
"Why would you pay that much," she replied, making her way towards the wheel, "to have your head cut off?"
C&B&C&B&C&B&C&B&C&B
After a few hours of steering—and reading the book Castle had handed to her early that morning—Kate realized that they were on perfectly straight course and that she probably didn't need anybody manning the wheel for a while. Still, she had Eustace watch for any obstacles as she walked around, checking that things were in order.
And what she found was one Richard Castle, now dressed dapperly in his new clothes, practicing stances with his new sword, testing the weight in his palm as he attacked a barrel. Kate could see that he'd already roughed it some by the time she arrived and watched him put a few more slices in, leaning against the side, just watching him silently until, finally, she cleared her throat.
The grown man—who must have been over six feet and was built quite thick, once he had some meat on his bones—jumped nearly a foot in the air at the sound, his weapon clattering to the ground as he turned to see her smirking at him, one eyebrow raised.
"Captain! I—I was just…err…"
"Ruining one of my barrels?" she asked. "You know, we had to be extra sneaky to steal them."
"Apologies, Captain," Castle said, snatching his sword from the ground. "I'll steal you a better one when we dock…where are we going, again?"
"Back to Lanie's home island; I can't pronounce the name for the life of me and she's ordered me to stop trying. We do some trade with a few medicine men over there; herbs for gun powder."
"What on earth do they need gun powder for?" Castle asked.
"I assume it's for their guns," Kate replied, "but that might be a little far-fetched, no?"
"They have guns on the calypso islands now?" Castle asked. "I've been very out of touch with the latest gossip."
"For the last few hundred years, it would seem," Kate teased. "Englishmen attempted to colonize over there decades ago, offering firearms for land and resources. They didn't realize that Lanie's people were smart enough to learn how to use them."
"That must have been bloody terrific," Castle laughed.
"Terrific, yes," Kate replied. "Bloody…not so much. Englishmen, as thickheaded as they are, know when to surrender. They gave the natives their land and safety and the natives allowed them to live on their island. Though, from what I hear, the white man has been expanding his empire down there, slowly but surely. Lanie's village still remains, but many other have been destroyed."
"That's horrible," Castle remarked. "Is there anything we can do?"
"We're pirates, Mr. Castle," Kate pointed out. "Not heroes."
"Can we not be both?"
Kate shook her head.
"It would be counterproductive and it would put all my people in trouble, including your little girl." At the mention of his daughter, Castle clamped his mouth shut and nodded, looking away. The subject was dropped immediately.
"Show me what you were doing before," Kate said, changing it as she unsheathed her own sword. Castle's eyes widened in surprise, before he brought his own weapon back out.
"Just something I learned," he said, "as a boy, when my mother's friends would rehearse on stage and I would watch, waving around an old, broken broom handle." He swung at the barrel again, hitting it in the center of its left side, burying it deep into the wood with his strength.
"Stop attacking my barrel!" Kate snapped and Castle turned to her bashfully, hiding his sword behind his back like a small boy. She rolled her eyes.
"Sorry," he said. "Just trying to demonstrate."
"Well, why don't you try on a larger target?" she suggested. "Or, perhaps, a more lively one?"
Castle squinted in confusion at that suggestion, before realization widened his eyes and he stared at her in surprise.
"You mean you, Captain Beckett?" he asked. Kate nodded. "Oh no," he said, "wouldn't want to hurt you."
Kate frowned at him and hit him with the brunt side of her sword, whacking his arm and emitting a noise of pain from his lips. "What are you tryin' to imply, then?" she asked.
"Oh, nothing, Captain!" Castle insisted. "It's just…I'm quite clumsy, you see? I wouldn't want to trip up and take your head off or anything."
"Castle," Kate sighed, "I've seen you with a sword in your hand and as awkward as you may be on your own—and you are very awkward, mind you—when you have a sword in your hand, you might as well be a swan."
"Oh…thank you?" Castle said, tilting his head to the side.
"That's as close to a compliment as you may ever get from me," Kate said, "so embrace it. Now, sword up! Show me what you can do with it, aye?"
Castle nodded, lifting his sword and shifting his feet into proper stance, much to Kate's amusement.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Getting into proper position," Castle informed her, "to fight."
"Castle, you'll not have this much time during an actual duel to place your feet; you must be quicker, more agile. Like when we faced Salvador and his men, remember?" Castle nodded. "Good, now, do exactly that." Without much more warning, she swung at him and Castle had just a second to blow the blow, their swords clashing with a metallic clang that attracted the attention of all the men currently standing on deck.
Esposito and Ryan, who'd been playing a game of poker with Paulo, looked up instantly, their eyes lighting with mirth as they watched their captain—and oldest friend—trade blow after blow with Castle, more often on the offense than not. It took Paulo another moment to glance up from his cards, but when he did, he cheered something in his native tongue, clapping his hands and laughing.
"Go, Captain!" he cheered, the boys joining in with hoots and hollers of their own. Kate grinned, but didn't even spare them a glance as she kept at it.
"Fight back," she grunted, her sword clashing against his as he ducked a jab.
"I could kill you!" Castle retorted, fear lacing his words.
"No, you couldn't," Kate replied. "Not even if you tried!" She took another swing and he blocked it, brushing it away and pushing her back slightly with the move. "Now fight back!" she ordered. "Or I'll kill you!"
Castle grunted in reply, but did as told, taking a swing straight for her center, which she easily blocked. "Again!" she ordered and he took another swing, diagonally now, which she also blocked. "Again!" she said, repeating the mantra with every swing of his sword, causing his anger and frustration to rise with every clash of metal, until his blows hit a little harder, causing them to move back and forth, as if in a dance. Her mantra stopped when she realized that concentration was far more paramount to her survival, a small grin appearing in her face as she eyed the look of concentration on his face.
She was impressed to say the least; hadn't found a more equal match to her own skill since Montgomery…
The thought of her old captain—and the pang of hurt that came with it—distracted her slightly so that one of Castle's swipes tore at her coat, startling both of them. She could see the instant regret in his face and she rolled her eyes again.
"Don't worry about it," she growled, taking another swing at him, which he expertly deflected. "This coat has seen worse; besides, I'm certain Lanie and Alexis will be able to fix it." He grunted out a soft laugh as he swung again, neither of them noticing as a small crowd gathered about them.
Lanie and Tory, having heard the clanging of swords, had assumed that they were being attacked and had rushed right up to see what all the fuss was about, completely forgetting about the young girl on their tails—or the fact that Tory was still in a dress. They remembered pretty quickly when Alexis tried to toddle past them to see what it was her father was doing with the captain, both women pulling her back by the arms.
"Oh no, no," Lanie tutted, "don't want you getting hurt now, treasure. Just watch." And Alexis did, with undisguised wonder, as her father and the captain traded blows, her big blue eyes growing wide at the exertion on both ends. It seemed never-ending!
All eyes were glued to the two, all of them feeling the tension—almost unbearably strong—between the captain and her newest shipmate. Their eyes were locked on their little dance, the way their swords glittered in the waning sunlight, their ears soaking in the grunts that were almost inappropriate for such a setting.
At one point, Tory felt as if she should have shielded the toddler's eyes—and she did, but only when the men made faces at her over her dress and she flashed them the finger, not wanting the small girl to imitate her, lest her father cut off her head with his sword.
Castle and Captain Beckett fought for close to an hour, neither of them quite realizing it until the muscles in their arms started to turn to jelly with their exertions, trapping them in a hold-off, their swords locked above their heads, both attempting to outdo the other; to win.
In the end, they called a truce, neither of them able to hold up their arms any longer, both panting and sweaty and just plain tired, their swords dropping as they grinned at each other, arms limp against their sides. Their eyes were locked on one another's, darkened with…well, it was quite obvious to everybody else what it was, but they were still in denial, as they likely would be for a long time yet.
Their gazes, however, were broken by a small voice calling out to them—or, rather, to him!
"Papa!" Alexis exclaimed, still being held back by Lanie and Tory, who worried that she would run into one of their swords. He sheathed his and stepped towards her, grinning as he kneeled down. Tory and Lanie released the girl and she ran straight into her father's arms, which were never too tired to embrace and hold her. He rose with her still in his arms, cooing over his new sword, her hands planted on his cheeks.
After a moment, her face twisted up in disgust.
"Papa, you're all wet!" she said, frowning. "Why?"
"Not wet, Pumpkin," Castle laughed, "just sweaty. I think I'll go wash up." He placed a kiss on her forehead before planting her back on the ground, allowing her to run back to the women, who quickly dispersed back to Lanie's workroom, not even chancing a glance towards him, lest their knowing faces give away too much.
Castle didn't think it too odd, however, as his focus was only really on one woman.
The captain had already sheathed her sword and asked Ryan when he thought supper might be done.
"I asked Jenny just a while ago," he told her. "She said the sun will go down before supper will be done." Kate nodded, watching the sunset on the horizon; she had a little time now.
Turning to Castle, who was much closer than she'd realized, she nodded her head.
"Good fight, Castle," she said.
"Likewise, Captain," the writer replied. "Hopefully we can do it again, sometime." It was a statement, but there was an obvious question in his words. Kate nodded.
"Of course," she said, before clearing her throat. "We'll have to exercise your skills if you want any chance of survival on your new job."
"New job, Captain?" he asked.
"Like Eustace and Esposito, you will now be accompanying me to meet with clients, for added security; you must stay alert and agile. Can you do that?" Her green eyes held steady on his.
He nodded. "Yes, Captain," he said, firmly. "Of course."
"Good," Kate said, before turning back to Ryan. "I'll be in my cabin if anybody needs me," she said. "Call me when supper is done."
"Yes, Captain," Ryan said, before returning to his poker game with the two other men.
Kate offered Castle one more nod before heading below deck, into her own quarters. Once there, she shut and locked her door (it was the only one with such a feature) and removed her coat and hat, before collapsing onto her bed with a sigh, wondering why she felt so…
But then she knew why, didn't she?
They'd left the Philippines before Kate even had a chance to seek out the man she had there, whose name often escaped her. She called him Tom, because it was easy and it sounded like his real name. He was a good man, loyal and trusting, but a tad dimwitted at times. He was a good enough lover, albeit not as satisfying as many others she'd had.
She'd heard he married, anyway, so he probably wouldn't have been up for anything; as loyal a dog as he, he would be just as loyal a husband, she bet; too good for her, in any sense.
But that meant that she hadn't been…satisfied. Which left her longing for something that she could not have while she was at sea, meaning that her mind went to…other places.
More specifically, a particular writer who she would not admit was her favorite, whose stories made her shiver with excitement as she read them on deck, in between directional shifts.
Today's particular tale, while continuing the story of Nikki Heat, also contained a new character—off of which only a fool would not be able to tell whom he was based. Jameson Rook was not as big a mystery as Castle would have liked him to be, she imagined, but she didn't tell him that.
It would be admitting that there was something—an attraction—between them and she couldn't do that; couldn't go against her own rules and become a hypocrite to her crew. Especially not after she threatened to throw Esposito overboard when she found out about his physical relationship with Lanie—who was far too young for him, even without her rules, she thought.
No. She was most certainly not going to start something with one of her shipmates. Not now; not ever.
But that didn't mean…
The ache between her legs was becoming unbearable now and she knew that she had to do something about it before she did anything she could regret. Though, what she did next could also be considered in the same category.
Reaching for her coat, Kate pulled the journal out and opened it to a creased page, one that she had blushed while reading and had to save for later, lest any of her—admittedly astute—shipmates noticed and asked her any questions.
Now, however, alone in her quarters, she decided that it was safe to finally return to this scene, so beautifully written it hardly seemed shameful, but for the subject matter.
She lay back on her bed, her sore arm holding the book above her head, her eyes raking over the beautiful handwriting as relaxed into the soft, feathery mattress. As her mind processed the words, she felt not only her face, but her entire body, heat up, her hand stroking over the entire length of her body, causing goose bumps to rise in its wake, until, finally, it disappeared beneath the waistband of her trousers and she sighed at the first touch of her finger.
She was, unsurprisingly, both hot and wet, and incredibly sensitive as she stroked herself, fighting to keep her eyes open as she read his words, imagined his voice caressing her ear as he read them aloud to her…
When she fell apart, it was his name that was on her lips; his face that flashed behind her eyes.
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