Chapter 14:
After-witch
The sublevels of Dante's Wellness Clinic
9:20pm
"Well, now I know what all the fuss had been about," quipped Killian from over her shoulder.
She elbowed him in the gut, causing him to grunt and luckily missing the buckles of his leather coat. And she did so out of respect for the poor girl who could not slap him herself for ogling her half-naked form. And not because of any feelings of jealousy she may have randomly felt at the admiration that oozed in his tone of voice.
"Jones, quit running that mouth of yours and make yourself useful. Get the poor soul out of there," ordered Ginger brusquely. God, Tawny loved the no-nonsense woman, especially when she made the infamous pirate look like a sheepish school boy.
She didn't have to wait long before the yoga instructor began directing her and Fitz about as well. "Conroy, you and I will go first so that the captain here can lower Ms. Ariel to us…McKinley, watch our six."
It was quite amusing how quickly they all snapped to it like good little soldiers, with murmurs of "Yes, ma'am" and everything.
Ariel was lowered without mishap. No one came to investigate the ruckus that they had made, and they all trouped down to the boat. It was here that the Captain took charge, directing them how to place their precious cargo, their own packs, and themselves, all in order to keep their collective weight distributed. Moreover, it was upon his command that they rowed back down the river, slowly and steadily with muffled oars so as not to attract any unwanted attention.
Just before the marina, he navigated them up a little inlet to the rendezvous point that she had arranged. Pulling out a tiny flashlight from her pack, she clicked it on and off – three long, two short flashes, and rinse repeat.
Not two seconds later, there was a reply – long, short, short, long…long, long, long.
When she rose and gestured that it was who she was expecting, Ginger broke the silence to mutter, "You Enchanted Forest types… 'love and kisses' and 'kisses and hugs', really?"
Over Killian's amused snort, she rejoined, "Blame the fact that I watch a two year old whose favorite Disney princess is fish-girl and not rags-to-riches, much to her mother's chagrin."
"Fish-girl is a highly pejorative term, and I am ashamed of you, Miss McKinley, for even using it in jest," was the austere rebuke from their newcomer.
"Beg pardon, Mr. Grimsby," she replied with humble meekness, before querying, "Did you bring a blanket by any chance? We forgot one, and I don't want her to get the chills on top of everything else she's been through."
"Don't you worry. Carlotta has a mountain of them in the car, which she has running with the heat on," the old faithful servant of the prince's reassured.
And with that Fitz hoisted the sea princess out of Killian's boat and made his way to her waiting chariot – a 1980-something Cadillac. Grimsby and Carlotta were going to take her to Eric's flat, where he and Regina would go after the big showdown between witches. Hopefully, no lasting damage would result from her forced stay in that vile tank, she would awaken, and Regina would be able to return Ariel to her human form. And the prince and his love would be able to live happily ever after.
Whatever the case would be, Tawny would be sure to find out tomorrow. For now, however, her part was done, so she stayed on the bank to say goodbye again to her partner.
"We did it, lass."
His words filled her with a sense of accomplishment, but not relief. They saved the damsel, but there was so much more to do. They had to keep the ruse going. She didn't say this, however. Instead, she merely sighed tiredly and gave him a wan but sincere smile, as she acknowledged warmly, "Aye, we make a good team."
Her words drew him up short, causing him to twitch from some triggered memory. She could see this even in the dark, but whatever it was it didn't last long, because a slow smile began to spread across his face; and with hearty emphasis, he replied, "Good? No. A bloody great team is what we are, kitten."
She chuckled appreciatively, but then had the sudden urge to crawl up in his lap and snuggle in, like she imagined her pet-name's sake would. Unable to fully shake off her feelings of melancholy, she whispered her parting words to him, "You'll keep in touch with me? There's a storm coming according to the weather-forecasters."
"I will, lass," he reassured. "This winter gale will be nothing to worry about. The Roger and I have weathered much worse over the years."
She gave him a brief grateful nod for his promise and pacifying words and then a farewell salute, before turning and walking away.
She couldn't bear watching him disappear into the horizon for the third time.
~0~
Ashley and Prince Thomas' apartment
Later that evening…
Tawny refilled both hers and Ashley's glasses of wine, while she waited for her friend to return from putting Alexandra down. The little girl had sensed her mother's anxiety and had been a fretful baby all evening, wearing the already wrecked woman down.
After leaving Killian to row back to his beloved ship on his own, she had come here to wait with her friend, for Thomas had joined the rest of his royal peers in the battle against the witches. Ginger had gone home to either paint or hang with her three flat-mates; she had never made her intentions clear. And Fitz had gone home to his wife to "reap the rewards of being a hero", a declaration that was accompanied by suggestive waggling of the eyebrows. If she hadn't already known the rogue, she would have said that Jones' mannerisms had been rubbing off on him.
When Ashley returned, she gratefully accepted the glass, sighing, "Thank you, and not just for the wine. If you weren't here, I most definitely would have broken out into a cleaning frenzy."
"Well, in that case, it is my pleasure, Ash," she replied with a dry chuckle, and she meant it. Cinderella's cleaning frenzies were not a pretty sight. More seriously, she added with a grateful smile of her own, "Besides, not only do you provide me with an alibi, but also the chance to get the story of the night from a firsthand account."
Her friend had the wisdom not to ask what she needed an alibi for and kept her response light, visibly relaxing and snorting (delicately) as she teased, "And while we are on the subject of selfish motives, we shouldn't forget the free wine."
Grinning unashamedly, she waved her glass in 'cheers' motion and then sipped with obvious delight. "Never, darling."
They sat there in silence for a few minutes, before Ashley broke it to ask softly, "Do you think if they succeed and stop whatever it is that Urs– those two are trying to do, that Ruby will get better?"
Switching her glass to her other hand, she reached over to hold Ashley's, as she whispered sincerely, "I hope so."
She loved Ash and Giselle, but of her three friends from the Cursed years, Ruby understood her best. Neither Ashley nor Giselle had truly ever wanted to leave Storybrooke. Giselle had her business, which had been in the red and deeply in debt to Gold, but she loved it. It was her ivory tower. Ashley had talked of leaving, but that had been her misery talking. Her heart had truly resided in Storybrooke with her family – Sean and baby-to-be.
But Ruby, however, had dreamed of adventure, of taking action, of making a difference. If Ruby's spirit hadn't been taken by those bitches and she hadn't been so traumatized, she would have been neck deep in her Concerned Citizenry project. She would have helped her kick ass every step of the way. She prayed like she hadn't in years that her friend's joie de vivre would not be lost forever.
Ashley was in the middle of describing Old King Gramps' expression when his 'sweet pumpkin girl Alexandra' insisted that her name was 'Xandy' because 'Auntie Wen said so,' when Thomas came home.
"Ella?"
And like that, her friend was up in a flash, alternating between hugging him and tearfully asking if he was alright, if he was hurt, if he …
At this point, Tawny picked up their glasses and nearly finished bottle of wine and headed into the kitchen to give their reunion a moment of privacy.
She didn't return until Ashley asked her to bring her husband a glass of brandy, apparently his favorite. When she handed him the glass, she gave him a once over. He held himself like he was stiff and sore from being thrown about. His clothes looked a bit torn and scorched, his eyebrows were singed, and he had various cuts on his face and arms. But, overall, he appeared to be in relatively good health.
After he took a restorative sip, he announced, "We got them. Ding dong, the witches are dead." All three of them savored that joyous fact for a moment, and then the prince continued with his report. "I think the best part is that none of us died in the process – although it was a near thing. Frederick and Neal have a half dozen broken ribs between the two. Charming and Lancelot will most likely sport interesting sets of sucker-like scars for years to come, and Eric probably has a concussion, but he refused to go to the hospital once he learned from Snow that Ariel was at his apartment."
"How did - ?"
She was going to ask how the Fairest-of-Them-All knew, but stopped herself in time. She had forgotten that Killian was supposed to report their success to Snow, who had been nominated for Henry-guard duty due to her 'condition'. She had also forgotten that to the royals, Gwen was of the uninformed public. Fortunately, Thomas assumed she was asking how the mermaid had come to be there and answered, "Swan had someone take care of it. I'd tell you who but he wished to remain anonymous."
This last was said more to his wife than her, not that she minded. At Ashley's nod of understanding, the prince continued his tale. He informed them that the ritual was being conducted in a forest clearing that was fifty yards from an inaccessible-from-the-sea (due to razor rocks) beach, which gave the sorceresses access to their sources of power. Sentries had been posted around the clearing, which contained a giant cauldron that was half-sunk into a recently dug pit. However, with the assistance of the fairies and Regina's magic they had been quietly taken care of, allowing them to 'bust' in on the witches just as they were declaring all was ready except the final ingredient - Ariel.
"Maleficent retaliated by having thorny vines erupt from the forest floor to snatch us and choke us off from each other, and Ursula transformed into – " He paused in his narration to find an adequate description, finally settling on "… her natural state. Her tentacles were grasping and reaching and throwing toxic potions, and then at some point, Maleficent began hurling balls of magical flame, so yeah hence all our injuries."
He regaled them of the fairies turning the fireballs into powdery snowballs and the potions into flower petals. He told of Emma placing magical defensive shields around them all in case anything got past the fairies. At the same time, she supplied Regina extra power so that the reformed sorceress could go on the offensive, casting hexes "like she was doing the grand finale of a fireworks show."
Between them and the princes making nuisances of themselves against the vines and tentacles, the witches were weakened further. They were so spread thin that they allowed themselves to become distracted, and when Ursula let out a shriek of fury "screaming something about her 'poor little poopsies', Eric deep-fried her calamari-ass" by shoving her into the giant cauldron.
Sweet, unsuspecting Thomas assumed that her choking fit had to do with his 'foul' language and not at all to do with his narration's reference to the death of Flotsam and Jetsam several miles away, and he apologized like the virtuous gentleman he was. To redirect him, she asked eagerly, "What happened to Maleficent?"
A puzzled expression flickered across his earnest face before he shrugged and answered, "According to Regina, she tried to transform into her dragon form but didn't have enough magic juice so she essentially became one with the Verse. One minute she was human, the next she was a cloud of purple smoke, and then the next – well, the cloud disbursed, unable to stay in any sort of cohesive form."
"Well, that's rather anticlimactic," Ashley observed.
Her husband grinned down at her and asserted, "I suppose it is, but perhaps tomorrow I will have further tales of daring-do." At Ashley's baffled and alarmed expression, he elaborated, "Apparently, we are to go after the crime lords who were supplying the witches with muscle in the morning."
"So soon?"
"Yes, if we don't want them to join King George wherever he is hiding. As it is, by waiting until we can recharge our batteries, it's inevitable that a few will slip our net," he explained patiently.
Before Ashley could protest further, Tawny interjected, "Hey, Ash, since your hubby has an early morning and I have work too, I'm gonna call it a night. Do you mind if I crash here?"
She, of course, didn't deny her and quickly went to get some linen. Thomas mouthed a grateful "Thank you," and went to check on his daughter before turning in.
As soon as the pair was ensconced behind closed doors, she dug her phone out from her pack and checked her messages. She had one from Killian.
'Reunited with my bonnie lass. Hatches are battened down. Think warm thoughts of me, my fiery lass. It's bloody chilly tonight.'
She was too tired to take any of the openings that message just begged for her to. In fact, now that she was able to relax, her exhaustion took over and she didn't even complete her simple message of 'good night' before she was asleep.
It wouldn't be until late morning that she would contemplate the fact that her body had been unable to relax until she had heard from him.
~0~
The next day, late afternoon…
Tawny was done being Gwen the Maid for the day. It had been a long ass day. Usually, on this day of the week, she and her co-workers cleaned City Hall, but due to all the hectic activity, Mrs. Boyd rearranged their schedules. As a result, she and a few others were sent to Good Morning, Storybrooke!'s studio and offices, and in the afternoon she was sent to Ashley's father-in-law's. There, she had to endure a lecture on the proper respect someone of her station should have for a royal – which did not include taking liberties with a princess' name, especially a "dignified and respectable and lovely name as 'Alexandra'" and shorten it to something as "unbecoming and common sounding as 'Xandy'."
Her inner-Gwen wanted to tell off the old geezer, who was usually very kind to her, but she bit her tongue instead and reminded herself that he had once been a king and was not used to being told no but now had a toddler granddaughter who has more backbone than her parents combined.
It was very hard to do. She had woken up tired, sore, and cranky, and very few things had improved her day. It was certainly not Killian's constant whining texts, in which he cursed her for getting him into such situations, yada, yada, yada. Granted, he was trapped off the coast of Canada, waiting out the winter storm before he could return to civilization, with perks like central heating and indoor plumbing. But what happened to "The Roger and I have weathered much worse over the years"?
This was the price she had to pay for verbalizing her wish that he keep in touch. The man who believes in 'good form' and keeping his word did exactly that – on the hour, every hour.
What did improve her day was news of Swan's arrests of D'Arque and his cronies and her subsequent raids on the movie theater, the arcade, and the strip club. Although Driver and Agustino were in the wind, Harley and Foxworthy had been caught; and little fish could lead to bigger fish, or so she hoped.
Even better news was that Ariel had awakened, Regina had restored her to her two-legged form, and her and Eric had barely been able to contain themselves from having an amorous reunion before Regina, Grimsby, or Carlotta could exit the apartment. They were not expected to rejoin society for several days.
But the best news of all was what Jefferson, Giselle, Ashley, Fitz, Suzy, Perla, Babette, and even Henry had called or texted her about.
Ruby had not only woken up sane and herself, but she was now presently in Granny's.
To see this with her very own eyes, she would brave the lion's den. So after a quick shower, she changed into black skinny jeans, black knee-high boots, and green, silver, and cream poncho sweater top and then marched over to the diner. With only one deep calming breath, she pushed through the doors and into the crowded café.
Her swift scan of the room revealed that she wasn't the only one there to see the walking miracle and to celebrate the past 24-hour's victory. The Charmings, Swan, Henry, the dwarves, Dr. Whale, Tinkerbell and a few other fairies, Grace's foster parents, Archie, Gepetto and Pinocchio, and Michael Tillman and his two kids (to name a few) were all crammed in the little establishment.
It was so busy that she decided not to force her way to the counter, but to wait. In the meantime, she could set up some mischief, er, good cheer. With this idea in mind, she had more bounce in her step than earlier that day, as she made her way over to the Tillmans.
Mike used to be a fellow frequent patron at the Rabbit Hole, before he became a single dad. And she knew his kids from their tramp days. She used to sneak them food that she had nicked from customers' pantries in exchange for them distracting Graham when he was on the hunt for her.
"Hello, Miss Ava. Hello, Han, Mike," she greeted. "What's Granny's special for the day?"
Mike simply nodded, but sweet-tooth Hansel, who preferred 'Han', grumbled, "Well, it was key lime or lemon meringue pie, but she ran out."
"But if you stick around, she has brownies and chocolate chip cookies just about to come out of the oven," Gretel, who preferred her more modern day name Ava, supplied helpfully, before rushing to ask, "Did you hear about the witches? The squid queen got boiled!"
"Deep-fried is what I heard," she whispered conspiratorially.
"Ew! That's gross," complained Han around a mouthful of gravy fries. "I'm going to lose my appetite."
"As if," scoffed his sister.
Before a fight could break out, Tawny interjected, "Can one of you guys do me a favor?"
Both of them looked sideways at their dad, before Ava hesitantly asked, "Is it illegal?"
Chuckling dryly, she replied, "No, I just need you to video something for me."
Han sagged with relief, but then apologetically held up his greasy fingers. Ava rolled her eyes at her brother and then chirped, "Sure, what of?"
Handing the girl her phone, she smirked as she cryptically answered, "Oh, you'll know."
She is in the middle of showing the girl how to work it, when there was a half-delighted, half-scolding shout, "Gwen! How long have you been here without saying hello?!"
She turned around to see her beautiful wolf-girl standing there decked out in red with her hands on her hips and a mock glare aimed in her direction. Ignoring the question, she marched right up to her and wrapped her arms around her in a not-too-weak-but-not-too-tight-but-just-right sort of hug, murmuring into her carnelian scarf, "You're back."
"I'm back," she agreed softly as she returned her embrace. And then at the same time, they drew back from each other, ending their Hallmark-moment, to grin at each other. Ruby teasingly inquired, "So where is your pirate? From what I smell, you two are practically joined at the hip."
"Not my pirate," she objected, as she was being led by her friend to the counter. "And there isn't any kind of hip-joining going on."
"Mhmm," she hummed thoughtfully, with her head cocked to the side, before declaring, "More's the pity."
Tawny huffed in amusement, "That's what Giselle thinks."
Up went Ruby's eyebrows, "Does she? Well then, I'm tabling that discussion for when we get our nails done on Saturday." And then more assertively, she insisted, "But don't dodge the question. Inquiring minds want to know."
She was about to ask who, when Ruby's head nodded at Henry whom she was now conveniently standing next to. She smiled at the boy, informing him, "Before the storm cut off cell reception, he was moored off of some – and I quote: 'wee town of Nova Scotia.'"
"Why the hell did he go north at this time of year?" Ruby inquired.
From out of the corner of her eyes, she could see that Swan, who was sitting on the other side of her son, was listening in on their conversation. Curious enough to want to know the answer, but not enough to ask it herself? She cattily asked herself.
Shrugging, she answered with as much truth as possible so as not to tip off the woman's inner-lie detector. "I think it had something to do with Ireland. But who knows? Anyways, he's seen the error of his ways and will be back to make a nuisance of himself in a few days." And just like that, the pirate's official alibi was cemented in front of half the town, for the sheriff was not the only one eavesdropping.
Ruby grinned wolfishly at her answer, but mercifully refrained from suggestive remarks not appropriate for impressionable ears. Keeping it business-like, her friend inquired brightly, "So what can I get for you today, Gwen?"
As the crowd was beginning to get to her, she decided against waiting for the brownies or cookies, and replied, "My usual."
Ruby shook her head in amusement as she reached beneath the counter to get her bottle of whiskey, and when she plopped it down in front of Tawny, she said with mock admonition, "Don't be drinking it all in one night. I expect there to be some for Saturday."
"Uh-huh," she agreed with dry non-commitment. She handed Ruby her cash, taking pleasure in watching her ring up her purchase and vowing to never take something as simple as that for granted.
As Ruby returned with her change, Tawny glanced back at Ava, nodded, and then grabbed Ruby's arm to haul her half-over the counter and… planted one on her.
Ruby was momentarily surprised but quickly got into it, taking the lead in the overly friendly caress and even adding a nibble or two. And before Granny's patrons can think, much less say, 'true love's kiss', Gwen with the Golden Hair and Red Riding Hood were in a full on make-out session over the diner counter. It was a pity that neither she nor Ruby swung this way. They could have some right good jolly times…
Before either one of them did something embarrassing (like moan) or someone decided to throw ice water on them, Tawny pulled back, more than a little breathless. Ruby recovered first, declaring somewhat breathily, "Well, that was some welcome back."
She laughed, as she backpedaled from the counter, "I never back down from a double-wolf dare."
Her friend groaned at the pun and rolled her eyes, but when righted, they were twinkling in amusement, as she said, "A fact which Giselle exploits to her utmost."
She finger-waved a goodbye as she collected her phone from Ava and was in the middle of waltzing out, when she was hailed by a gruff voice: "Hey, you! McKinley!"
She turned to see the dwarves' public relations guy scowling at her. Raising an expectant eyebrow, she waited for what was sure to be an unpleasant query. She didn't have to wait long.
"Where were you when all this was going down? I mean, what's the point of those lessons with the pirate if you're gonna hole up somewhere with your head in the sand and your thumbs up your – "
He didn't get to finish that last statement as Doc elbowed him in his gut, winding him. Bless the bespectacled man. For it saved Tawny from reaching over and slapping his ignorant – ass.
Instead, she looked down at him with all the cold indignant fury she possessed and smiled with saccharine sweetness, as she icily replied, "My dear grumpy dumpling, the point? The point is that I don't become a victim – " She nearly said 'again', but that was too much personal information that he had no need to be privy to, so she switched to " – like Ruby-darling."
"And since I have no intention of being a martyr even if your heroic monarchs had bothered to ask me to be a pawn in their little war, I enjoyed a nice bottle of wine with a friend."
"Well, sister – "
"I am not your 'sister'," she spat before he could continue his public condemnation. She wasn't so consumed with her fury that she didn't see him and nearly everyone there reel back in shock at her spiteful vehemence. With a deep breath and a gentle shake, she dialed down her intensity and smirked with derisive delight, "Unless, of course, beneath that crusty façade lies a busty blond bitch that is the heart and soul of that cow of my father's seed?"
Rather than simply shake his head no and let her make her exit, the dwarf opened his mouth to put her in her place. What was that saying about little dogs? Not that she had anything against dwarves. She liked all of his brothers, and generally even liked surly Leroy. But today, she had used up all of her tolerance for bullshit.
Before the dwarf or she could say or do something that they would truly regret later, Ruby called out, "Lay off, Grumpy. She was at Ella's last night."
Her smile turned grim as she confirmed her friend's claim for all to hear, "Yes, I was on widow watch – a customary tradition from where I come from. Ladies gather and seek comfort from each other as they pray for their men to return to them and not make their children orphans." To Charming who had been sitting at the table with the dwarves, she said, "Thank you, for watching Thomas' back. Ash- Ella…" She shrugged, struggling for words, finally settling on, "Well, it was good to see her smile."
Charming nodded in his head in silent acceptance of her gratitude.
Before the moment could be spoiled by more ass-ery, she turned, nodded gratefully at Ruby for her defense of her, and then swept out of the diner, hopefully without looking as if she was fleeing.
Once outside and a way from any spectators at the windows, she stopped to restore her equilibrium. Deep breaths and the visualization of what Killian would threaten to do to Leroy-the-Grouch on her behalf if he knew of his harassment of her, (which is why she wasn't going to tell him), did the trick, and eventually, a smile slowly spread across her face.
Confrontation handled. Mischief managed. And now for the pièce de résistance…
Drawing up the video, she nodded in approval of Ava's steady hands and hers and Ruby's technique, and then she attached it to the message: May this warm you for the next few bloody chilly nights.
She practically cackled in glee as she hit send. Revenge was beautifully sweet, and in this case tasted like Cherry Blossom.
~0~
Emma had no idea how to respond to that very public display of affection. Laugh off the awkwardness? Be indignant that it was right there in front of her son? Wonder as to what the purpose was for that little charade? It had to be a charade. She had heard enough of Ruby's commentary on the male half of the species to be certain of her orientation.
Nor did she know how to react to Gwen's and Grumpy's showdown. On one hand, she agreed with the dwarf about how the maid, who seemed to like violence when sparring with Hook, never lifted a finger to help them in their confrontations with the town villains. But on the other hand, she was glad that she hadn't. Emma needed people that she could trust, and there was something about Gwen or Tawny or whatever her name was that just didn't invoke that feeling.
Her mother who had been sitting on the other side of her responded by inquiring in true bafflement and a moderate amount of indignant pique, "You're friends with Gwen McKinley? Really, Red?"
Ruby nodded, "Yeah, during the Curse years, she, Ashley, and Giselle were the only girls in this town who didn't resent me."
Her mother had the grace to look sheepish. Emma could recall Mary Margaret uttering a few complaints about the waitress' revealing wardrobe and flirtatious manner with all things male.
"In fact," continued their friend, smirking with affectionate amusement, "according to Granny, she was the devil on my shoulders, always encouraging me to chase my dreams of exploring the world." More thoughtfully, she mused aloud, "She didn't much like Storybrooke. Even after Em broke the Curse, I believe she seriously considered crossing the town line. The idea of forgetting her past life was… alluring to say the least for her."
Holding Mary Margaret's gaze, she fiercely declared, "But she didn't. Because she loved us. Gwen's got her prickles, but when she latches on to you, she doesn't let go. That pirate better recognize what a treasure he has in her."
Emma glanced down at her son and saw a very thoughtful and determined expression flicker across his face. She felt an overwhelming sense of dread. Thanks to Ruby, her son was now contemplating Operation: Matchmaker or Cupid or whatever, and she did not want to get involved in Hook's love life.
Any more than she already was, that is.
~0~
The Jolly Roger, off the coast of Nova Scotia…
Captain Killian 'Hook' Jones fully acknowledged that he was both a masochist and a sadist.
The Killian-part of him was a masochist. Judging by his current state of affairs, he obviously enjoyed his own misery. Why else would he end up in situations like these? Willingly trapped on his own ship in a bloody blizzard?
Somehow the chit he called his partner had talked him into not only sacrificing his self-dignity and flaunting his pain for all of Storybrooke to see, but to also sail north so that he could purposefully get caught in a winter snow storm to freeze his very fine ass and balls off, all just so he could have an alibi for the night of the mermaid's rescue – which he had somehow ended up volunteering for.
It had sounded like a good idea at the time. So good, in fact, that he had believed that most of it was his idea first. But now in retrospect, after spending hours battling against frostbite and boredom and eating dry rations and drinking inferior rum, only looking forward to spending more tedious hours of oiling the Roger's lines and stoking fires so that none of the ropes would fray and break when this was all over, he was reconsidering.
Enter sadist Hook.
The chit had turned her warm brown eyes on him and begged him to 'keep in touch' with her. So being a man of his word, he did.
At first, it was his boredom that had woken Hook up. He hounded and nagged her for news. 'Did they get the lunatic-keeper?', 'Lass, the Puppet Master? His associates?', 'What did you do with the lightning pistols? Swan wants to know…'
And then it had progressed to letting her know exactly what he was doing – 'Trimming my toenails', 'Stoking fire', 'Polishing my…blade ;- )'
(Thank you, Henry, for the text symbol lesson. The winking face comes in so handy).
And then what he was feeling – 'Bored, bored, bored', 'Cold as a siren's tit', 'Cold as a kelpie's balls', 'Victimized by a vixen wench'.
And then what he was planning – 'I have this fantasy of flogging a certain lass – and not in a good way', 'Of dipping the devious doxy in an ice flow and then hanging her out to dry', 'Of making the manipulative minx walk the plank'
The alliterative monikers increased in both vileness and ridiculousness as his exile went on – 'hustling hussy', 'scheming strumpet' and 'cunning conniving cunt'. He was unsure whether or not his poetical absurdity was the result of his loopy-ness or his attempt to temper his vulgarity. Either way, if any man on his crew had bellyached as much as he did to Tawny, he would have had him lick the mast to give him something to truly whinge about.
But did his fiery lass roll over and take it?
He thought so at first. She had patiently answered every one of his questions and had responded with sympathy that gradually turned into simple 'K's, which in this world was apparently the equivalent of 'message received.'
But then she had sent that last one.
Bloody hell.
And now he had a whole new sensation of uncomfortable to deal with. Minx.
He thought this with great annoyance and affection. His pirate apprentice had taken his lessons to heart. She never ever fought fair anymore. Which was why, he wasn't sure he was going to retaliate. He didn't think his attachment could take it, if she upped the ante. At least not while they were leagues apart, and it was just him and his anchored bonnie lass.
But because it was just him and the Roger, he could admit to himself that he, Captain Killian 'Hook' Jones, had met his match, again. Twice, in the same century, but this time, he didn't think she would back down.
His thoughts that night were warm indeed.
~0~
Two days later…
The storm had cleared, his ship was ready to sail, and the winds were fair and in his favor. Killian was going home.
At this thought, Killian drew up short, nearly getting hit with the boom.
Home.
For as long as Killian could remember 'home' was the sea. His brother had been home, but their life had been at the beck and call of the tides and a corrupt king.
His ship had been his home, and his crew, his family after his brother's passing, a fact, which had not changed even after Milah's murder.
Milah had become queen of his home, but their life too had been the ship and the sea.
But when he thought of 'home' now, he did not think of a keel or a hull or a deck or sails or the embodiment of freedom that was his ship, nor did he think of his Mistress, the briny deep and all her mysterious and stormy wonder.
No, he thought of… a person.
A chit of a girl with rich gold hair that had pale fiery streaks that matched her spirit. A girl who welcomed him, not with eyes filled with suspicion or with overwhelming awe, but with warmth and acceptance.
Of a life – on land
His pirate-self shuddered. To have his heart anchored to soil, to be land-bound? Horrors.
But…
A life of plotting and planning and daring escapades. A life with little monetary reward but spades of personal satisfaction. A life with someone who he could trust, not that she would just watch his back but that she would also stay. A life of quiet evenings, of spirits and chocolate, of conversation –witty to soul-baring…
That would be an awfully big adventure.
Home. On land. With her. Did he dare?
A/N: Do you dare? Dare to accept the One Word Review Challenge?
It's simple. If you like, hate, tolerate, whatever - describe your reaction in one word. Go ahead. I double-wolf dare you ; )
P.S. - the usual disclaimer of my non-ownership + a certain line from Pirates of the Caribbean. Thank you, Teddy Elliot and Terry Rossio.