Author's Note: Hahaha, okay, my sense of humor has changed SO MUCH since I was a teenager, but whatever. I tried to edit out the more cringe-worthy parts, so hopefully it works.

–

Chapter Two: Sold

–

"Wake up, little missy," a gruff voice said, and Sango felt a hand push her shoulder. Her eyes still closed, she tried to organize her hazy thoughts. Slowly, the facts came back to her: she was stuck at sea with a gang of filthy pirates who, as they put it, 'had plans for her'. Oh, whoopee.

Opening her eyes, Sango immediately noticed that she was obviously incorrect; her environment looked more like a cabin than a ship's brig.

"Ah, yer awake," the pirate remarked, grinning and showing his rotten teeth. "Good. Ya know, I can't see what the cap'n told us. I think yer pretty enough without the stuff."

Sango wrinkled her nose at the man and sat up. "Where have you taken me?" she demanded, glaring at him fiercely.

"Tortuga," the pirate answered, pulling a length of rope from where it was tethered at his side. "Now stop askin' questions. It ain't fittin' for a wench." He grabbed one of Sango's arms at the wrist and twisted it, jerking it behind her back. Before she could react, another pirate who had been lurking in a corner grabbed the other arm and pinned it as well.

"Now, we can't have you tryin' to hurt our gals, can we?" he leered as the first pirate tied Sango's hands together, tugging it so tight that the rope bit into her skin. She grimaced, but refused to make a sound.

The second pirate, a pointy-nosed one with an eye-patch, then knelt to bind Sango's feet as well. Almost as a reflex, she jerked both feet up and slammed them into his face. Unbalanced, she tottered and fell off of the low cot onto the floor. Despite the new ache on her hip, Sango allowed herself a moment of satisfied triumph when Eye-Patch shouted in pain and clapped his hand to his nose. "Trollop!" he spat, snatching his knife from his waist.

He leaned over Sango, pressing the grimy blade to her throat. "You'll pay for that, you will," he said malevolently.

The first pirate called, "Hold it, Dervin! The cap'n won't be too pleased if you kill 'er." He didn't make a move as if to stop him, however; he merely stood and watched, looking like a child that was waiting for someone to do something wrong to have something to go tattle about.

"I don't care," Dervin snarled, pressing the blade more firmly against Sango's neck. Despite her scowl, she was still, not daring to move for fear that the knife would break her skin. There was a moment of tense silence as they all waited for someone to make a move, then the door to the cabin opened with a bang.

A huge man stood framed in the doorway, his hand on the hilt of his sword. He was excessively hairy; his long mane was arranged into a very thick braid and his face and arms were covered in long bristles. He wore a large hat, cocked slightly to the side and adorned with a single, shaggy-looking feather. "Leave her be, ya scoundrel," he growled, stepping into the cabin, his large, heavy-looking boots making his footfalls loud and slightly intimidating. Dervin complied immediately, stuffing his knife back into his belt and scowling bitterly as a thin trickle of blood flowed from his right nostril. "Get the lady up, Berkiss."

The pirate who had been watching Sango be menaced nodded and grabbed her by the arm with one callused hand, dragging her to her feet and pushing her into a seated position on the cot. "Ain't she a pearl, cap'n?" he said, almost nervously.

The pirate captain didn't even glance at Sango. "Enough of a beaut, I'm sure," he replied, then moved his bulk aside, revealing two old women standing in the doorway, each clutching a rawhide bag and simpering.

"Ya know what ta do, ladies," the captain said simply. "Berk, Derv, get your arses out of there before I take a sword to both of your hides!" The two lesser pirates filed out of the room quickly, and the captain spared a glance at Sango. "Good day, lady," he said mockingly, tipping his hat. "Don't go lashin' out at me girls, now."

He withdrew from the cabin, allowed the women to enter, then slammed the door forcefully behind him.

"Such a pretty thing," one woman said, putting the bag on the cot beside Sango. She was rail-thin like a waif, her nails long and unkempt. Her stringy gray hair was in no discernible style, strewing itself around her scalp at will. She used one of her skinny hands to grab Sango's chin.

"Let go of me!" she snapped, shaking her head to try and free the woman's hand. The waif responded by tightening her grasp, surprisingly strong for seeming so frail.

"Now, now, calm down. Dear sister, I think she thinks lowly of us," she said, mockingly. "Well, dearie, yer on the same level as us now, so get used to it!"

The other woman was a little heavier than her sister, but not by much. Her sharp cheekbones were very prominent and made her look like a bird. Leaning down, she used her wrinkled hand to brush the bangs from Sango's face. "Us two was sent to pretty you up some," she declared. "So much we could do on a pretty young thing like you..." She reached for her bag and pulled out a cheap-looking silver tin.

"Oh, yes, sister, that's perfect!" the thin one exclaimed joyously, maintaining her tight grip on Sango's chin.

Sango had been looking from one woman to the other in confusion for a few seconds, but now, a look of comprehension crossed her face. 'They were sent to... beautify me?' Oh, the irony.

As the second sister pried the top from the tin, dipped her fingers in, and smeared a slimy gunk that smelled of seaweed on her face, Sango had a sudden realization.

This was not going to end well.

–

It seemed like ages of pure torture before the 'beautification' was complete, if you could call it that. Looking into the cracked mirror that she had been momentarily shoved in front of, Sango could never think of a time when she looked more like what she imagined a brothel woman looked like. Seeing the horrors that had been inflicted onto her face in a filthy mirror provided by the sisters, she was suddenly very satisfied that she had managed to bite the waif-like wretch when she had first tried to spread a disgustingly red paint across her lips. That woman had disappeared in a huff soon afterwards, leaving her sister to complete their job.

It was then that the frail woman returned, a slithery sort of man trailing after her, though he bypassed her the moment he saw Sango. He paced around her, beady eyes examining her every feature critically. Sango felt annoyance and anger begin to boil hard within her; she was getting sick of being eyed like something to be purchased.

"Eh... Is this the girl then?" he asked the sisters nasally. "Not bad... A fair catch to be had, in fact, such that I am impressed. I see now why your captain was so insistent that my original offer was shorting him..." He let out a short whistle, and two rather burly men entered. "Take her in and set her to be up next. Tell Ned to start at five."

One of the men, a Spaniard, looked surprised. "Only five?"

"It'll go up fast."

The Spaniard gave a grunt of agreement before both he and the other lackey grabbed a very confused Sango by the arms and pulled her away.

–

Within an hour, it all added up into a good lot of sense.

Sango was to be auctioned off to whichever drooling, desperate old pirate fool was willing to fork over the most money for her. And the best part? There weren't exactly laws that they'd be required to conform to, save for any Articles that they were sworn to as a member of a crew. But, those rules varied from ship to ship, and there were some men there that were not currently bound by contract.

It was those men who Sango feared the most, though she'd be hard pressed to admit it.

So, instead of letting her nerves and worry be known, she kept up a cool front and a dark glare as she was pushed out onto the stage. All eyes turned to her, both of the crowd and the auctioneer. It was the latter that made quick to speak first.

"Avast, lads! Look sharp! Here be a lass who may easily be worth your pesos and pence." He took her by the arm, her wrists still bound, pulling her closer to the edge of the stage, and therefore, closer to the leering crowd. Needless to say, Sango was less than pleased, and showed her displeasure by turning her face and spitting on the auctioneer's face.

He didn't seem to mind at all, but merely tugged out a stained handkerchief and wiped the spittle from his cheek as if this sort of thing happened all the time.

"Lookie there! She's a feisty one! What'ya say boys? Let's start her off at six pounds!"

Six pounds? What the- Sango most assuredly was worth more than a measly six pounds!

"Seven!"

"Eight pounds!"

"Twelve!"

"Twenty!"

...Okay. That was more like it. Sort of.

Right. Back to being unhappy with the entire situation.

"Let go of me!" she insisted, trying to yank away from the auctioneer. He paid her no attention, focusing on the bids that were gradually slowing down. Finally, no one else spoke, though there were murmurs of disappointment.

"Ah! Is that all then? Two and thirty pounds it is then! Going once, twice, and... Well, I say!"

While he had been closing the auction, a brown object had flown over the crowd towards the stage. It landed near Sango's feet, causing her to jump back reflexively as its contents spilled out. The object was a purse, overflowing with foreign coins and even a few jewels.

"That there should equate to about double the price," came the calm comment that made all eyes turn to the speaker. He grinned. "I believe this is where the word, 'sold', finds its way in?"

The auctioneer quickly obliged, pushing Sango off to the side to be led away before she could properly see her... purchaser.

Oh well. She could be patient. But really, Sango couldn't wait to meet him.

She really wanted to give him a broken nose.

–

Sango was led around the back of the auction arena by the same men who had brought her there to a small, rickety building painted a vivid, peeling red. After being pushed through the door, she didn't find the inside to be much better; particularly when she was shoved into a splintery, wobbly chair. In fact, the whole ordeal just made her want to hurt something as soon as the binds were loosened from her wrists.

A quick survey of the room for escape route proved unhelpful when the two men who had escorted her here settled against the walls, clearly intending to guard her until her new captor arrived.

It didn't take him long. The door opened, and a young man strolled on in.

He was the perfect image of almost any gentlemen Sango had ever encountered in England. He was spectacularly dressed, with a navy blue jacket with glinting gold buttons, matching breeches, clean stockings and shined shoes. Although he wore a jauntily angled hat as well, no powered wig was worn beneath.

"Ah, so this is the lady?" the man said cheerily, removing his hat to reveal a mess of black hair, pulled back at the neck. His interested lavender-gray eyes swept over Sango, as though he were sizing her up. He nodded to the other two men, gesturing that they could leave. "Thank you, gents. I can handle her from here."

They left without so much as a word.

Sango was now alone...with a man of unquestionably questionable motives.

Great.

"Now then, don't be shy!" the pirate said cheerfully. "Do stand up."

Sango gave him a long, baleful stare. He raised an eyebrow, before shrugging ruefully.

"All right... If you want to stay tied up, that's fine."

He had hit the target on the mark. Sango only hesitated a second more before she struggled to her feet, her balance disgustingly off. If her wrists were untied, she'd have a much easier time getting away. The pirate smiled at her, pulling a small knife from the inside of his jacket and sauntering closer. He lowered the blade to the rope, before he paused to look her in the eye.

"You're tense... Thinking about hitting me?"

"What if I am?" Sango snapped. He looked bemused.

"That's fine. Just remember," he said cheerfully, "if you knock me out and run away, you're running out into a city full of outlaws that are probably a lot less friendly than me. So, if you think it's the best course of action, by all means, swing away."

And without further ado, he cut the ropes away.

Much to her frustration, Sango found that the strange man was right. Even if she did manage to get away from him, where would she go? She quickly determined she'd have to bide her time, until some opportunity arose.

"So you're not going to hit me? That's good. I tend to dislike bruises. Now, m'dear, do tell me your name," the pirate said, taking her gently by the elbow and leading her out of the old building. Sango wasn't sure what he was up to, but she most definitely wasn't going to tell him her name.

"Isn't that a bit presumptuous to ask me that when you haven't even introduced yourself?" she said curtly, noting with distaste that she was still in her nightdress. Between that and the ugly mask that had been painted onto her face, she knew she had to look downright ridiculous. It didn't help her mood at all. She tugged her elbow from his grasp, frowning, and began to rub gingerly at the red welts on her wrists.

"My apologies then. They call me Miroku. Now, please, your name?"

Sango refused to look at him. "No surname then?"

"Not until you tell me your first one." The pirate- Miroku- didn't seem at all surprised at her lofty evasiveness. In fact, it sounded as though it amused him.

"Very well. My name is..." Sango paused for half a second, before a false name came to her. "Emma. I'm Emma," she repeated, as though reassuring herself.

That's when she heard Ayumi's voice call out a single word.

"Sango!"