II.

Meg closed her eyes as Billy stroked her hair, speaking to her in a soft, soothing voice, The pounding of her heart slowly began to subside, as did her sobs. Their clothes were soaked from being caught in the downpour, but her discomfort lessened as the warmth of his body began to diffuse into her core. It been some time since anyone had held her with such tenderness, and she had almost forgotten what is was like to feel safe. For the first time since that terrible night six months ago, she felt some measure of peace.

He cradled her face in his hands, and rested his forehead against hers. "Better?"

Meg nodded as he swept the last of her tears from her cheek with his thumb.

Resting one hand lightly on his forearm, she murmured, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so emotional. It's just-we've been here in Nassau for nigh on four months now, but it's been a difficult adjustment for me. Seeing you brought back so many memories..."

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "You don't need to make up excuses, Meg. It's alright to say that you missed me,"

She laughed, then blushed and lowered her eyes, suddenly feeling very shy. "Why don't I get you something to eat? I'm sure you haven't had time for a decent breakfast. I've got Chelsea buns and fresh baked rolls, just out of the oven."

Billy's smile broadened. "You have no idea how heavenly that sounds right now."

Meg stepped away, missing his touch almost immediately. Heat rose to her cheeks, and she studiously avoided eye contact with him, focusing on piling a small plate with baked goods. Billy wandered around the small shop, squatting down to inspect a loose floorboard.

"This should be fixed. Do you have a hammer?"

A few moments later, he was fitting the board securely into place. Meg couldn't help but steal a glance at him at he worked. He was completely absorbed in the task, handling the hammer with obvious skill. The lantern cast a soft glow over him, highlighting his muscular arms and bronzed skin. He hummed a tune under his breath, and she found herself smiling as she watched.

He glanced up apologetically. "I'm almost done. Sorry it's taking so long."

Meg reached for a cloth, covering the plate she had waiting for him. "I'm so grateful to you for repairing it. I've tripped over it twice in the past three days. It was really only a matter of time before someone fell."

He stood up, giving the finished result one last look. "Then it's a good job that I happened along when I did."

"It's so hard to believe," she murmured, her voice catching slightly. "What were the odds of us ever seeing each other again?"

Billy came over to the counter, leaning against it as he picked up one of the buns. "I've learned not to focus on the odds. They have a way of changing just when you least expect it."

Meg watched him finish off his breakfast, her chin resting in her palm. After a few moments of silence, he set down the steaming mug of tea she had given him, and took her hand in his. He fixed his gaze on her, his blue eyes clear and steady. "I have to ask you something. What did you think when you first recognized me?"

"I thought-" she hesitated, then whispered, "You look so-different."

Billy chuckled. "I expect I've filled out a bit-as have you." His eyes dropped to the modest neckline of her dress for just an instant. She felt a flush steal across her face, and Billy squeezed her hand gently. "I don't mean to be coarse-or to embarrass you. But the fact is, you've blossomed into a lovely young woman, Meg." A wistful look crossed his face. I imagine you must be married by now-with a handsome husband who worships you, one or two adorable toddlers, and a cat that curls up in your lap when you sit by the fire at night." He released her hand and stepped back, seeming to suddenly become conscious of the intimacy of the moment.

"Alas, I have no husband or children-not even a cat," she said lightly. "But enough about me- look at you! When we were children, you always said you wanted to see the world outside of London some day….and here you are, living a life of adventure in the Caribbean!"

He rubbed his neck, his eyes growing distant as he glanced out the window at the rain. "It seems as though fate's idea of adventure was vastly different from mine."

Meg sensed the shift in his mood, and searched for a way to steer the conversation in a different direction. Her eyes skipped to the wooden beads looped around his neck. She smiled, tentatively reaching out to finger one of the strings. "You look like one of the men I've seen congregating around the ships in the harbor. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were a proper pirate."

Billy shifted uncomfortably, and her gaze dropped to the pistol at his waist.

How had she not noticed it before?

A short dagger was tucked into his belt, the metal blade gleaming in the light of the lantern. She took a step back, her throat tightening.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "It's not possible...the Billy Manderley I knew would never sail under the black."

He was silent for a moment, then cleared his throat. "I should go."

He turned to leave, and she couldn't stop herself.

"Tell me it isn't true!"

He braced one hand against the door, the muscles of his back tightening against his shirt. He glanced back for just an instant, his expression etched with pain. "The last thing I want to do is hurt you, but I won't lie to you, Meg. Remember me as I was, and forget you ever saw me today."

Opening the door, he slipped out into the dull roar of the storm, and vanished from her sight.

As Billy jogged along the streets of Nassau, the sky began to clear, and the sun shone just above the horizon.

Shit.

He hadn't realized how much time had gone by. Picking up the pace, he finally reached the beach, and sighted the familiar lines of the Walrus. She lay bobbing at anchor in the center of the harbor, her sails neatly furled. The crew were lined up along the railing, awaiting the morning's orders. A flash of copper caught Billy's eye, and his heart sank. Flint was already on board.

When Billy stepped onto the deck, he stood and faced the men. "Those of you who were ready for duty on time are a credit to this ship, I see that some of my deck crew are missing, and they will be punished for their lack of discipline. I myself have fallen short of the mark. I apologize to you, and to the Captain, for my dereliction of duty"

He stripped off his shirt, then turned to Flint, who gave him a brief nod. Going to the mast, Billy faced the roughened wood. Broad back laid bare, he braced himself and waited for the hiss of the whip. When the lash finally made contact with his skin, he gritted his teeth, and uttered not a sound for the first seven strokes.

When the eighth came, he grunted, and bit back a moan. As he straightened up, a trickle of blood ran down his back. Shrugging his shirt back on, Billy ignored the searing pain, and went to stand off to the side.

A sympathetic voice spoke up next to him. "I'm hoping she was worth it, because that looked incredibly painful."

Billy stared straight ahead. "Fuck you, Silver."

Short update this time...if you have a moment, let me know what you think.