Haha welcome back. Did you miss me? Sorry, no smut in this chapter. I'm trying to actually get some complex story in here.

Anyway here's Wonderwall.

Charles woke up early the next morning. The sun hadn't completely risen yet, and the sky was an interesting gradient of dark blue and pink. He stretched in his bed, and smiled when he felt Fiona's arms draped across his naked body.

His body was sore after last night, and he'd bet every coin he had that hers was too. She was still sound asleep, exhausted from last night's activities. Her blonde hair fell around her face, tangled in every which way, and the small amount of eyeliner she wore was smudged down her cheeks. Somehow it only made her more attractive to him.

Standing carefully as not to wake her, Charles grabbed the cleanest piece of fabric he could find and doused half of it with some water from a bottle, leaving the other half dry. He swiped the cloth gently across her cheek, doing his best to remove the smudges without waking her.

He was unsuccessful, and Fiona began to groan and shift.

"What are you doing, Charles?" she whispered, her voice cracking.

"Your face is covered in black, sweetheart," he said soothingly. "Just let me finish and you can go back to sleep."

Fiona's brows furrowed.

"I'm not a child, I can do it myself." She reached to grab the wet cloth from his hands, but he held it away from her and lightly slapped the backs of her hands.

"And so can I. It'd be done by now if you hadn't made such a fuss," he retorted, continuing to wipe her face clean. Fiona was still exhausted, so she merely lay there with his hands on her face holding it still, enjoying the attention he was giving her.

Charles wiped her eyes of the last of her kohl, dried her face, and tossed the cloth behind him. Deciding to leave her in peace to sleep, he quickly dressed himself. All the articles of his clothing were scattered around the room, and it took him a few moments to find them all, but there he stood, ready for the day.

He turned back to her, walking as quietly as he could in his thick-soled boots, and kneeled down. He smoothed back some of the hair from her face and kissed her lips slowly. She returned the kiss, sighing and placing her hands on the back of his neck. He stopped, kissed her forehead, and stood.

"I've got to go see Kenway. Go back to sleep if you want."

She followed his advice and easily fell into another deep, restful sleep.

Fiona was awakened several hours later by the loud screeching of the seagulls. She groaned, rubbed her eyes, and sat up yawning. She stretched, sighing contently. She hadn't slept so soundly in weeks.

Leaping up and getting dressed, she was suddenly overcome by an intense hunger for food and the need see Charles. She picked up her blouse and trousers from the ground, holding them to her nose quickly, and decided they smelled decently enough to wear again. She briefly wondered what Charles would think of her if she wore one of the few dresses she owned.

She strode out of the captain's quarters of the Ranger, earning stares and a few laughs from the crew. She wasn't sure if they were laughing because they knew about her and Vane, but she didn't care one bit. She joyfully walked onto the beach, and she yanked off her boots to feel the hot sand on her bare feet.

Fiona made her way to the nearest inn. She was dying for some good, hot food. The only thing she's had to eat for the past few months was cornmeal, dried fruits and meats, and rum. Just the thought of a homemade meal put a skip in her step.

"Hey, beautiful," a voice said, and a hand slid into place on her hip. It wasn't Charles, though. She turned her head to find a round, but rugged face, covered in sideburns. Hornigold.

"Ah, morning, Mr. Hornigold."

"Please, call me Ben," he said, rubbing her hip with his thumb. "You disappeared last night; where'd you run of to?"

Fiona was struggling to think of a reason to get away from him. He wasn't unkind in any sense, but he wasn't Charles. In the mean time, she had to answer him.

"Oh, nowhere," she said, a bit nervous, "just needed some fresh air." A stupid excuse, the party had been outdoors in the first place. He raised an eyebrow, giving her a strange look.

"Looked all over for you, y'know. Couldn't find ya."

"I went back to my ship after a bit; it had been a long day and I was ready for some rest is all."

"Rest, huh? We could have rested together, you know...after-"

"Fiona!"

Saved by her sister! Fiona almost let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Brianne walking over to them. Hornigold, thank God, hastily removed his hand from her, but as she was walking closer to her sister, she heard him whispering to her.

"We'll continue our conversation later, love." It was barely audible, but she'd caught it. She shuddered, and he took it the wrong way. She felt uncomfortable, but he must have thought it was of anticipation.

Lord, she was never good with letting men down gently, it was always so hard. But she'd figure out a way at some point.

"Fiona, where've you been?" Brianne asked her with a friendly smile. Fiona waited until Hornigold was out of earshot until she answered.

"In Vane's quarters," she said with a smile and a waggle of her eyebrows. Brianne laughed, putting her arm around her sister's shoulders. "Come on, I'm starving. Let's get some real food."

Together, they found a suitable place to get lunch. Both had been living off the same food and had been craving something flavorful and substantial. They sat down and ordered their food at a local inn.

"So, been with Vane all night, eh?" Brianne asked, looking at her from behind her tankard of rum.

"Aye," she said with a smile and a slight blush that she hoped Brianne didn't see.

"Is he really that good?"

"He really is, Brianne," she said. "He's so much different than the other men I've met before."

"Oh?"

"Yes," she said, suddenly feeling strange. "If it's alright, I'd prefer to leave it at that, Brianne."

The redheaded woman stared at her for almost a minute, her blue eyes seeming to eat away at her very soul. Fiona had never felt so ungrateful for her sister's company. They had always been the best of friends, since before she could remember. Why did she feel so uneasy?

After a moment, Brianne looked away, returning to her drink.

"Alright then."

The barmaid came with their food several minutes later. Brianne dug into her plate of vegetables and chicken, sighing as the hot food entered her mouth.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to see food," she said with a full mouth. Fiona laughed before shoving a spoonful of her spiced rice into her mouth. She too made an appreciative groan. The food was by no means extraordinary, but it may as well have been after several weeks at sea.

Brianne seemed to have let go of the fact that Fiona was avoiding talking much about Charles, though she did bring him up once or twice by mistake. They were joking, laughing, ordering drink after drink and more than one plate of food. Once they were satisfied, they stumbled out of the inn, stomachs full and giggling like fools.

Fiona realized how little time she'd spent with her sister. She grabbed Brianne's hand, pulling her towards the beach.

"Where are we going, Fiona?"

"For a swim!"

They took off their shoes and dug their toes into the sand. They ran into the salty water, shrieking as the cold water stung their skin. Brianne reached down, grabbed some of the water in cupped hands, and flung it at her sister. Fiona screamed in an uncharacteristically ladylike way.

"Hey!" she laughed, throwing water back in retaliation. They frolicked in the water, laughing and screaming. It was like they were children again, back home in Ireland.

Brianne pushed her into the water. Just before she submerged, she got an idea and drew a deep breath. She held it, keeping her body under the water. She quickly swam behind Brianne, hoping she didn't notice.

"Fiona?" she could hear Brianne calling her name from under the water. "Fiona?"

She inched closer and closer, getting ready to snare the trap.

"Fiona, stop hidi-!"

It was too late, Fiona had pounced from under the water, tackling her with a fierce but playful snarl. Brianne squealed in surprise as she was forced underneath the water by her sister. Fiona scrambled to get away from Brianne before she could get back up.

Her sister's fiery red hair emerged from the blue water like lava from a volcano, and she gasped for air like a fish. She whipped around, glaring daggers at Fiona.

"You little rat!" she growled with a devious smile on her pretty face. Fiona knew that look. She'd seen it dozens of times before back when they were children and would play in the water in the mild summers. She backed away as fast as she could in the water.

"Now, Brianne-"

Fiona yelped as her sister showed her incredible strength, a strength that she sometimes forgot, by lifting her younger sister right off her feet.

"Nooo, Brianne!" she laughed hard, "Don't! Put me down!"

"Put you down?" Brianne yelled. Fiona swore inwardly. It was a poor choice of words.

"No no nooo!" Her final 'no' trailed into a shout as Brianne tossed her into the water with a great 'oomph'. She fell, creating waves as she splashed. When she surfaced again, Brianne was giggling and walking back onto the warmth of the sand. Fiona smiled and followed her.

Brianne collapsed onto her stomach, still laughing, and Fiona fell down in a sitting position, breathing heavily. Salty water dripped from her lips into her mouth and her face screwed up in distaste.

Brianne sat up, scooting closer, her front covered in sand that had stuck to her wet skin and clothes. She sighed, resting her head on Fiona's shoulder and linked their arms together.

"I have never felt so free, Fiona," she said dreamily. "Not once in my life."

"It is a good feeling, isn't it?" Fiona said, resting her head atop Brianne's. Her sister Hummed in agreement, and were content to stare out at the water that shone in the late afternoon sun.

Charles hadn't done as much as he should have that day.

He and Edward had scoured the waters nearby, looking for good targets to rob of their coin, and plundered those they'd found. The take wasn't much. They'd found a couple of brigs and a frigate and only sailed away with a few thousand Reales and a few pounds of rum and sugar to be sold. It was enough to get them a profit, but a meager one.

Edward decided to call it a day. Charles had wanted to keep looking, but they were on the Jackdaw, and Edward was the captain, not him. He would have gone off on his own if he hadn't so stupidly let Fiona sleep the day away on his ship. But when he had looked down at her that morning, she had looked so tired, he didn't want to disturb her. Since when did he ever let that stop him from kicking his lovers out when he was done with them?

Since it was Fiona. He wasn't sure if it was because she was the one woman that could actually beat him in a fight, and that merited her some respect, or if it was because he liked her. Probably both.

They arrived back in Nassau a few hours past noon. Edward went off to sell their goods and make some repairs, and Charles bid him farewell, off to get some drink.

When he got closer to the tavern, he heard a distant laughing. He knew that laugh anywhere. Fiona. He looked down the length of the water and saw Fiona and another woman, probably her sister, prancing around in the water, giggling like idiots. He was chuckling to himself as well. He had originally planned on getting her alone and fucking her senseless, but she was having fun with her sister, and he wouldn't disturb them.

Fiona squirmed with Brianne's head on her lap. It was getting dark, and as much as she loved to be with her sister, she was getting certain urges that needed taking care of, which would require Charles.

"Go on," Brianne said exasperatedly, "go find your little boy toy." She lifted her head from Fiona's lap and gave her a look that displayed a playful irritation.

"You sure? I can stay longer if you want," Fiona said. She honestly hoped Brianne was sure, because every second that passed thinking about Charles, the hotter her skin felt, and the more she needed him. Brianne, thank goodness, nodded and shooed her.

Fiona jumped up, excited, and dashed off to the docks. She was off to get on board the Ranger. Either Charles was in his cabin already, or he would be later, and she would wait "patiently" for him, naked in his bed. She was getting wet just thinking about it.

The Jackdaw was back from wherever it had been, and she knew that if he was anywhere all day long, it would probably have been there, doing some usual pirate business with his friend Edward. Now that it was back, she knew that Charles was at least in Nassau. It wouldn't take him long to find her, she guessed.

She hummed to herself giddily with a skip in her step as she stepped on board the Ranger. Sh crossed the deck to enter Charles' cabin, but a voice stopped her.

"Well, look who's back, boys."

Fiona jumped, feeling her heart leap out of her throat, and whipped around to find a few men from Charles' crew. She sighed in relief.

"Ah, it's just you. Don't scare me like that," she said. One of the men, who seemed to be the leader, stepped forward very, very slowly. It was making her nervous.

He was tall, but not taller than Charles. His black hair stood out in all directions and came to just above his chin. His body was slim and fit, but in comparison to Charles, Edward, and other men she'd seen, he was lanky. His eyes were brown, but not the warm, comforting kind. They were menacing and frightening, and she found herself inching backward to get away from him.

She would call him Alpha, because of the way he leads his pack of mangy wolves.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing screwing the captain?" he said, eyeing her physique. She shifted uncomfortably. "He's an old man. Why don't you find a younger man?"

"I hope you don't mean yourself," she spat. Curse her fucking mouth, she should have stayed silent. At her comment, his eyes narrowed and she felt her heart pounding in fear. He grinned madly.

"That's exactly what I mean, sweetheart." His voice was a low growl and she could hear the disgusting hunger in it. She shuddered, vision darting around trying to find an escape route.

Two other men, probably his lackeys, were approaching her on either side. To her back was the door to the cabin. She could try and shut herself inside the cabin, but they could easily open the door and come right in, and she had no idea where the key for the door was, if there was one at all. She was totally surrounded by Charles' pricks of crewmen, and though she was a good fighter, she was outnumbered. Her odds did not look good.

Her best choice was to surprise them and try to break through the walls they were forming. She broke into a sprint, pushing past the disgusting men. She was about to jump off the ship, either into water or onto the docks, but someone big and heavy tackled her.

"Let go of me, swine!" she snarled, kicking at his arms in a last attempt to thwart their plans to capture her and do god knows what to her. It didn't work, and the heavy man grabbed her and hauled her up, hugging her to his chest and restricting her arms. He lifted her right off the ground and held her in a way that her legs, no matter how she kicked, could not hit him.

"Hold her down!" The Alpha shouted, and a few men obliged, using their hands to pin her down to the wood of the deck. Fiona gasped for air. She could feel her lungs burning and her stomach reeling in complete and utter terror.

One man gripped her shirt and tugged as hard as he could. The shirt tore from the middle, sending buttons scattering and clicking on the wood. He continued to tear her shirt down the center of the arms until her entire upper body was exposed. They tossed the tatters of clothing overboard into the salty water. She sobbed loudly, hoping to god someone would hear and come to her rescue. The men cheered at the sight of her breasts, and a few roughly groped at her. One pinched at the sensitive flesh and she screamed.

"Shut it, or we'll be found!" Alpha hissed, covering her mouth with his dirty hand. Fiona whimpered. He moved his hand, and before she could scream again, he brutally smacked his mouth into hers, kissing and biting her lips. He forced his tongue inside her mouth, but she promptly bit down until she could taste the metallic flavor of his blood.

Alpha reared back, howling in pain. Fiona used this opportunity and screamed out as loud as her lungs could muster. Alpha cursed to himself and punched her in the pit of her gut. She felt every bit of air leave her body and fought the feeling of nausea that had suddenly overcome her. She gulped, unable to breathe for several heart-stopping seconds.

She forced out any remaining air in her lungs to make a weak cry for help once more as Alpha hooked his fingers into the waistband of her trousers.

Charles sat drinking merrily with Rackham and Thatch. Jack downed drink after drink, getting very drunk. He laughed like a fucking fool.

"So Charlie," he said, drink sloshing onto the table. Charles growled.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

"What? Charlieee?" he replied, drawing out the last syllable.

"Yes, that."

Charles paused to take a long drink of his rum. He winced slightly at its sharpness and the burning sensation as it surged down his throat. Rackham giggled at some joke only he heard, and slurped noisily at his own drink. He leaned on the table in front of him.

"Anywayyy," he said, "you been hangin' around that woman a lot lately."

Charles held back his frown. He wasn't exactly sure if he wanted Rackham or Thatch to know about him and Fiona just yet. Mainly because Jack would tease him about "being in love" and "that he was going soft". Then he would promptly attempt to seduce Fiona himself.

And Thatch...he wasn't sure.

"Which one?" Charles said, feigning ignorance. "There are women all over this island, idiot."

"One of those sisters. Irish, I think they are," Jack said, knocking back the last of the bottle. He coughed.

"Aye, I've met those two. Sweethearts, they are," Thatch said. He was surprisingly sober, despite the fact that he'd had the most drink out of the three.

"Haven't had the pleasure," Jack said, drawling the last word. Charles felt a flame starting in his chest at Jack's words.

"Nice girls," Thatch said again. "Told me I was their 'inspiration' for becoming pirates."

At that moment, Charles spotted a head of copper hair walking into the tavern. Brianne. She scanned the place, and once she'd spotted him, she marched over. Jack saw her and grinned crookedly.

"Evenin'," Jack said, "might I interest you in a drink, dear lady?" He slid his hand around her waist and tried to pull her closer.

Brianne gave him a look of complete disinterest and easily pushed him out of his chair and onto the wooden floor. Charles had to laugh at that. Brianne turned back to Charles and looked at him intensely.

"Where's Fiona?" she asked. She had him confused.

"What do you mean?" he replied, "I thought she was with you." Brianne rolled her eyes impatiently.

"She went to find you half an hour ago, Vane. Headed towards your brig."

Ah, so Fiona wanted more already. Fine by him. But now that Rackham and Thatch knew exactly which of the sisters he was with, they snickered at him, and he was sure they would tease him later. Not that it mattered which sister he chose, they'd tease him either way. It was just how they were. Like fucking children.

"I'll head over there, then," he said, nodding at her.

"Right. I'm headed back to our own ship. If you should need me, I'll be there," she said, and turned to leave.

"So, you had the opportunity to grab that little piece of work," Jack said, motioning towards the retreating redhead, "but you picked the ugly one instead? I don't know as if I'll ever understand you, Charlie."

Charles felt that flame in his chest burning with more ferocity than anything he'd ever felt before. How dare this piece-of-filth drunkard insult Fiona like that? Sure, he admitted that Brianne was certainly prettier than her, but something about Fiona that attracted him.

He wanted to punch Rackham. No, he wanted to strangle him with his own bandana. He wanted to take his flintlock and jam it down his throat for calling Fiona ugly. But if he did that, then they might begin to suspect he had stronger feelings for her than just lust. He'd never hear the end of it.

So, he settled for the next best thing. He finished off his bottle of rum in one large swig, then brought the amber glass down on his "friend's" head. The glass shattered, sparkling as the shards flew through the air, still holding dregs of rum on them. Rackham yelped in pain and fell to the ground, unconscious.

"Don't call me Charlie," he growled, and left the tavern.

As Charles headed towards the Ranger, he couldn't shake a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. Brianne had said she went to find him a half hour ago. She would have seen that he wasn't on his ship. Surely she would have gone to search for him elsewhere?

He had a bad feeling. Could something have happened to her?

No, this was Fiona he was talking about. Fiona, who beat him in a fight in mere seconds. She could handle herself...couldn't she?

As he got closer to his ship, he heard the sounds of a struggle. Probably just his crew getting a bit rowdy after a few drinks, he reasoned. Nothing to worry about.

However, what he heard next made his blood run both hot with anger and cold with fear.

A piercing scream filled the night air, coming from his own ship. Fiona. The scream was cut short, followed by a grunt of pain.

He broke into a run. He had no idea what was going, and he had no idea who it was, but whoever hurt Fiona, whoever dared to lay a single finger on her was going to pay the price. He stomped onto the deck to witness a horrific scene.

About five burly men held Fiona down to the deck. Her blouse was removed, nowhere to be seen, and her trousers lay torn to shreds on the wooden floor. The only thing left on her body were her black leather boots, but otherwise, she was completely exposed. She had black tears flowing down her pale cheeks and she sobbed in absolute terror. One of the men was moving to unbuckle his trousers.

Charles saw red. He surged forward and grabbed the nearest man. With all his might, he propelled his fist forward into the man's face. He heard a satisfying snap as the man's nose broke and blood poured from his nostrils. The other men panicked and scattered, but not before Charles got a good look at all of them, committing their faces to memory.

Fiona scrambled to her feet, backing away and covering herself with her hands as Charles grabbed the man with the broken nose and hauled him to his feet by his shirt. He dragged his limp body to the railing and slammed his back against the hard wood. The man cried in pain. Charles moved close to his face so that the only thing he would see was the furious eyes of his captain. Charles opened his mouth.

"Get the fuck off my ship."

Without another word, he tossed the sorry excuse of a man into the water. He heard a splash and looked over. When the man surfaced, he shouted down at him.

"If I see you again, I'll be the last thing you ever see before I slit your throat!" he bellowed. The man swam as fast as he could towards shore, and once he reached the sand, he limped as fast as he could away from the water.

Charles turned back to Fiona. She was backed up into a corner, still afraid, but more relaxed now that he was here. Some bruises had already started to show where his crew had struck her, and he felt his anger growing.

"Charles," she whimpered. Fiona gulped and shook like a leaf in the wind. "I-I'm sor…"

"Don't," he said gently. He removed his long, dark brown coat and placed it around her small body. It was big on her, and as she was much shorter than he was, it dragged on the ground. She clutched at it and covered herself as best she could with it. "This wasn't your fault."

"I…" she began, but broke into a sob. He felt his heart wrenching at her pain.

He should have been there.

Moving quickly, Charles grabbed her gently and brought her into his chest. She cried quietly into his shirt, getting it wet with tears, but that was the least of his worries. He just wanted her to be safe, and he wanted the men involved to pay with their lives.

"Did they hurt you?" he asked, knowing that they'd at least hit her a few times, judging by the marks, but he wanted to make sure she hadn't been hurt any worse than that. There was the unspoken question floating in the air, and both of them knew exactly what it was he was asking: did they rape her?

But Fiona shook her head.

"No, just some bruising. They...didn't get any further, thanks to you," she said, holding onto him as if her life would come to a sudden end if she slackened her grip. Charles felt himself sighing in relief.

They stood there for a moment, him comforting her in an uncharacteristically tender moment. Kissing the top of her head, he ushered her off the Ranger. Fiona's legs trembled with each step as if she were about to fall, but he wouldn't let that happen. He was there to catch her.

Slowly, they made their way to her ship, the Banshee. He kept his arm around her the whole time. He wasn't going to let her go. Not until she was safe with her sister.

As they stepped onto the Banshee, Charles could feel that Fiona was feeling safer already, and she was visibly more relaxed. She hadn't stopped shaking, but the tears no longer streamed down her cheeks. Charles knocked on the door to Fiona's cabin and waited patiently for Brianne to answer.

"I told you not to bother me," Brianne said from behind the door. When she opened it, her face contorted in several different emotions. Confusion. Concern. Rage.

Just to name a few.

Charles let Fiona leave his protective embrace. Brianne gathered Fiona in her slim arms and held the trembling woman gingerly. Her eyes snapped over to Charles, an angry storm brewing inside them.

"What the fuck happened, Vane?" she hissed, moving to stand between him and Fiona. "Did you do this?"

"Of course I didn't do this!" he barked, appalled that she would even suggest it. "Some sacks of shit from my own crew jumped her." Brianne didn't look convinced, and turned to Fiona for answers.

"Fiona, what happened? You can tell me," she said in an almost motherly tone. Fiona shook her head.

"It wasn't Charles," she said, swallowing. "He wouldn't do...this. He's telling the truth."

Brianne nodded, accepting her sister's words. Charles turned to leave, but Fiona called out to him before he could.

"Wait!" she said. "Where are you going?"

"To teach those rats a lesson."

Haha oh no!

Don't worry it won't all be damsel in distress, I promise.

Bye.