"Emmy!" Joshy barrels down from the ship, throwing his arms around Emily in a tight embrace.

It's a wet, dreary afternoon. The sky above them is grey and thickly clouded, but Emily's quickly come to realize that's not uncommon in these parts. Still, the bleak atmosphere isn't doing much to improve her mood. Then again, neither is the fact that she's still wearing a dress, or the fact that Alex has been hovering over her like a mother hen for the past day and a half. Not that she minds him keeping close. She's just getting sick of being worried over.

And now this. "Yes, hello, Joshy." Confused, she hugs him back, then pulls away to look at him. "What was that for?"

He looks up at her, green eyes wide and panicked in a way that she can't make any sense of. "Nothing. I mean, it's just that I missed you. I mean, 'cause I always do when you're gone."

He's lying, and not very well, as usual. Normally she gets annoyed when he tries, but something about his whole demeanor has her worried this time. Softening, she waves Jo and Alex off before refocusing on her brother. "And I missed you too, but it hasn't been that long. And what have we talked about when it comes to lying?"

"That I don't need to with you, I know, Emmy."

"So tell me what's wrong."

He stares up at her and looks like he maybe wants to, but instead shakes his head vehemently. "Not this time, Emmy. I can't."

"Oh, come on, it can't be that bad, whatever it is."

He only shakes his head some more and throws his arms around her again. "I love you, Emmy." He pulls back just far enough to look up at her again. "You love me too, right?"

Now she's really worried, but can also recognize a losing battle when she's on the wrong end of it. "'Course I do, silly. When did that become a question?" She presses a kiss into his hair. "Now, come on." She leads him back onto the ship. "I'm sure Ms. Gibbs would like a 'hello' as well you know, and Alex tells me you two had an interesting conversation that I'd like to hear about."

He opens his mouth, relaxing just a fraction, apparently about to launch into whatever it is he has to say about said conversation. He never gets the chance, however. Their papa meets them the moment they make it onto the ship, and he does not look happy. What now?

"Joshy, why don't you go find Ms. Gibbs. We'll talk later, I promise." He looks at their papa, then her, then their papa, again with that panicked look. After a moment, though, he just nods and walks off obediently. Emily turns to ask their papa if he knows what on earth is wrong, but stops when her attention is re-drawn to the scowl he's sending her way. She braces herself. "Alright. What is it?"

He opens his mouth as if about to launch into an explanation standing right where they are, but then glances around and seems to think better of it. To her shock, he grabs her arm instead, gentle but firm, leading her away. "We need to talk. The boy better not be in your cabin."

And then she just knows it's going to be all downhill from here.

…

"It's been weeks!" She's never seen him so furious. "All the conversations we've had and this is what you decided to leave out? Am I your papa or not?"

"Of course. We were going to tell you. Papa, as soon as we got back from London, we were going to. It's not… I mean, it's not a crime." She's holding out hope. She knows none of her crew would have dared tell him about… it wasn't there business, and they knew it.

"Not a…" her papa scoffs.

"Being in – I mean, being, erm," still trying to avoid the words 'in love', "fancying someone. It's not a crime."

"No, it's not. I already knew you were in love with him, Emily, that's not what I'm talking about."

Emily pails, takes a breath to steady herself. "Alright, then, perhaps you'd better just tell me what you are talking about so we can get this over with."

He pauses, angry eyes studying her hard for a moment. "I'm talking about that boy – Christ, he's Sparrow's son!" He rakes a hand through his hair.

Emily squares her shoulders, gathering her courage. "The boy has a name. It's Alex. And he's not a boy at all, he's a man. Now, if you have something to say to me, Papa, then just say it."

"He took you're maidenhood." He snaps back bluntly. "I don't know what to say!"

Horror is her immediate reaction. It's soon replaced by cold, hard fury. "Who told you?"

"It's true, then. You've been…with him…and I didn't even..."

"Who. Told. You?" She insists. "I want a name. I'll-I'll cut out his bloody tongue, whoever it is, I swear to my goddess, he'll never say another word, I'll make sure of it!"

An odd hint of worry breaks through the anger written all over her papa's face. "It's not important. You couldn't've kept this from me forever, surely you knew that."

"Of course I did, which is why we – Alex and I were going to tell you! I'll have a name, damn it, I've worried about this from the beginning. I won't have my crew thinking they can go behind my back!"

"Emily."

"I mean, how many times must I say it? I didn't come all this way to be treated like some silly little damsel! My business is my business!"

"Emily, please…"

"And of course Alex and I are… he didn't take anything from me, Papa, I knew full well what I was doing too! I am not some foolish little girl, and I will not have anyone thinking otherwise, so you will give me a name!"

"Emily." He's gone quiet, which is what gets her attention this time. "I'm asking you to drop it. It's not important. What is important is that I can't let this go."

She takes a moment to calm herself some, only going on when she thinks she can do so without shouting some more. "Papa, there is nothing to let go of. I just said. I knew full well what I was doing. Hell, I was the one that acted on the idea first."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Would you really like the details?" She crosses her arms. "Because I could get more creative in telling you if you'd like."

"No!" Now he pails, and one hand reaches for his flask. "No. I've already got more details than I need."

Emily rolls her eyes. "Tell me something. What bothers you more about this? The fact that it's Alex or the fact that we aren't married? Because if it's only the fact that we aren't married, there's a red haired little boy running around my ship right now who calls me his sister, and I don't remember a wedding involved in the bringing about of him." It's a cruel thing to say, although she doesn't realize just how cruel until the words come swimming out into the open, not that she particularly cares anyway.

Her papa doesn't look as hurt as she might've hoped, though. He only shakes his head, expression going unreadable. "Do you love him?"

"What?"

"The boy. You said he loves you. But you didn't say whether you loved him."

She scoffs. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Perhaps not much, but I want to know. Do you love him?"

A long moment of silence passes. Knowing she'll never forgive herself if she denies Alex so pointedly, she gives in. "Yes. Yes, Papa, I do."

"Then you could've waited the time it would've taken to set up a wedding somehow."

"It's been a little more complicated than that. I mean, there was…and then we had…and then he…I…we…" Huffing in frustration, she throws up her hands. "So that's it then. You can't just give us your blessing and get over it?"

"He hasn't impressed me so far, I see no reason why I should, Emily."

"Give him a proper bloody chance and he might!"

"Alright." He agrees readily. "If it will make you happy, I will, of course."

She wasn't expecting that. "Oh."

"But he'll keep his hands off you in the meantime." It's not a suggestion.

She doesn't have it in her to argue. In honesty, this is what she'd wanted, right? For Will Turner to actually try being her papa for once? She'd asked for this. "Right. Fine. Just as long as you keep an open mind, Papa."

He only shakes his head with a scowl before making his way back out of her cabin. The door opens and he disappears into the hallway. Contemplating her next move a moment, she follows belatedly, lost in thought…and is nearly knocked right over for the second time that day, and again by her brother no less.

Wait.

"Joshy? What are you doing down here, I thought I told you to go find Ms. Gibbs?"

"I was, just, I mean, umm…" There it is again, the panic. What is he so…

Oh. Oh, it makes sense now, and she really wishes it didn't. The way he'd hugged her.

'You love me, too, right?'

The anger drains out of her. For once, there's just no room for it. She feels too hurt, too utterly betrayed. She'd tried. She'd come for him when he asked and sure she'd left him behind but at least part of that was to keep him safe and she'd tried to make sure she never turned him away when he needed something and they were siblings. She knew he didn't like Alex. But this…she'd thought she could trust him.

"Emmy?" He asks quietly. "Emmy, say something. Please?"

She can't. She has no words and isn't sure she could get them out even if she did. Shaking her head, she turns and begins walking down the hallway, calm as she can manage.

"Emmy?" He calls after her in a small voice.

She doesn't look back.

…

Thinking it's probably not the smartest idea for them to stay within such easy reach of the Admiral, they set sail that evening. Not knowing where else to start, Emily sets them on course for Tortuga. She doubts the Queen Anne's Revenge will be there, but if they're going to find out where it has been, there'll be no better place to ask around then Tortuga.

Emily just hopes it will be that simple. Her mother's one day on land is creeping closer and closer, and if she doesn't have a plan by then…well, she doesn't have much choice. She has to figure something out by then.

"Hang it all, she's done it again!"

"Blast, that's all I 'ad left to bet, it was!"

"Where'd ye learn ta play like that anyway, Cap'n?"

Emily gives a perfectly devilish, toothy grin as Jo, sitting next to her, gathers the cards and shuffles them, a smirk playing at her lips as well. "Cap'n Jack Sparrow, the one and only." Emily replies proudly. "Although I daresay I wouldn't be near this good if I hadn't practiced on the men at the tavern back home." She snatches up the bottle that's currently settled in front of Jo, although they've been passing this particular now-a-bit-more-than-half-empty bottle back and forth since they first sat down to play. "Earned me a much needed shiny penny on more than one occasion." She brings the bottle to her lips and drinks just as Alex enters the galley, probably looking for her. He's looking a little too serious for her liking. She sends a mischievous smile his way before turning back to the men she's been playing with. "Give up yet, gents?"

The answer is a resounding 'no', as she knew it would be. A short discussion ensues wherein it's decided that they will continue playing, but another game not of her choosing, so as to perhaps allow the men to earn back all they'd lost. She brings the bottle up again, intending to indulge in another sip – only to have it snatched out of her hand just as the rim touches her lips. More surprised than anything else, she turns with brows just slightly furrowed to see Alex, who is still absent his usual playful manner. He sets the bottle back down on the table a little harder than necessary and she stares at him blankly a moment.

He looks like he has something to say, but here she's the captain first and Emily (Peg? He still won't call her Emily) second, he knows better than to start a row with her in front of the men. Weighing her options, she meets his eyes. Fine, then.

"On second thought, boys," she turns back to the men she's been playing with, "I think I'd best quit while I'm ahead." A chorus of groans and protests follows, but they are mostly lighthearted, and she waves them off before collecting what she's won.

Alex follows her out and all the way to her cabin. She's tempted to tell him to close the door, her papa be damned, but thinks better of it as she crosses the room to tuck her now-quite-full coin purse into a drawer in her desk. They'd made an agreement, albeit a reluctant one on both their parts, the least she can do is try to keep to it. Draping herself lazily in the window seat, she settles her attention back on Alex. He's hovering in the doorway, looking somewhat uncertain, rather disgruntled, and very preoccupied.

"Well?" She asks.

He stares at her a moment, then shakes his head. "This is ridiculous."

"There are many things to which I'm sure you could be referring, dearie." She mocks him a bit, light and playful. She doesn't want to be serious right now. "You might try being a touch more specific." How is it she starts to sound a tad like him at times? Or maybe that's her uncle's influence. Or a bit of both?

He crosses the room to sit at the end of the window seat. She curls up with her legs across his lap. "This. Us. Yer papa. He was dead."

She heaves a long-suffering sigh. "I should think I'm well aware."

"He wasn't around to…even if I'd been worried about 'is blessin, Peg, it didn't matter."

"I know it didn't matter, and I daresay I wouldn't've been too worried about his blessing either, or have you forgotten whose idea it was the first time we nearly…?" She smirks, a little suggestive, still quite playful.

"Couldn't forget if I tried." But he isn't smiling, and he seems to be studiously ignoring the kind of mood she's in. "So, then, tell me, love: why are ye lettin it bother ye now?"

"Why are you?" She shoots back. "I've watched you talk the two of us right out of a prison cell, surely you can play nice with my papa just until…"

"Until what? What do ye think 'appens next?"

"Until he agrees to a marriage, I suppose." She replies airily. "How does 'Emily Elizabeth Sparrow' sound to you?"

He scowls. "Peg. I'm not in the mood. Please."

She ignores him. "Not sure I like the idea of being a missus, but I'd still be captain and I'm Peg to just about everyone else now, suppose it wouldn't matter anyway."

"Ye know, the problem is, I could prob'ly be the ruddy king of England and Will Turner still wouldn't think me good enough for you." Alex is on the war path tonight apparently. Isn't that usually where she is?

"Well, then I'll tell him to find someone else to sail with. Must be weird anyway, taking orders from his daughter. Uncle would take him. They actually got on alright, I think, in the end. You as a king, though. That's worth a laugh."

"Can you be serious, just for a moment?" He snaps.

"I am being serious, Alex. 'Least about that last part. I love my papa, but not more than I do you now." The words slip out so easy. As if they have a life of their own and were just waiting for the opportune moment to swim out into the open.

Alex stares at her. His eyes light up, just briefly, but as he searches hers he gets that sad look she still catches glimpses of. As usual, he quickly hides it, this time with a scowl. "Ye're drunk."

What's the point in denying? "More than I thought, apparently." She looks away, her eyes darting restlessly around the dimly lit cabin. "It's not like you didn't already know."

"That ye love me? 'Course I do. Just… 'earing it loses some of its meanin if ye can't get the words out sober." He doesn't sound hurt, as the words should imply. Actually, he sounds angry. And maybe, almost scolding? And now he's staring at her, expectant.

It's her turn to scowl. "Well what do you want, an apology? For what? I'm not sure I even know."

The sad look is back now. He reaches out a hand, cupping her cheek. "We're not our parents." He murmurs at first. "We are not our parents." A little more forceful.

"Alex…"

"We're not our parents. But ye're dad won't let me 'ave ye because I'm too much my own father's son. And now lately you…" He trails off, shaking his head.

"Alex…" She murmurs again. What was he going to say? She needs to know at the same time that she has a feeling she won't want to hear it. He doesn't go on. She abruptly wishes she'd taken the bottle with her. "Alex, finish the sentence."

He leans in and places a chaste kiss just at the corner of her lips. "I'd better go. Goodnight, love."

Abruptly annoyed with how he seems to be brushing her off, she calls after him. "Do you want a fight with my papa? Is that it?" He pauses just as he reaches the door, turning back to her. She goes on. "Because I could let you start one, but I still don't know what would come next, you know."

"Of course I don't… I'm just not sure how else this could end."

"I think there are plenty of ways, and they all involve the two of you getting over yourselves…"

The original plan is to go tell his sister he's sorry. She's been avoiding him ever since the argument she'd had with their papa and he's not sure how long he can take it. He'd expected her to be angry. He'd seen her angry. He'd even been on the receiving end of her anger, whenever he did something stupid or got her worried. He could take her being angry.

It's the silence that is killing him. The fact that she won't even look at him. He needs her to understand he didn't mean any harm. He just wanted to help. He loves his sister to bits and he's just worried about her and now he'd had a nightmare and it's been ages since she'd sung to him. Maybe, if he says sorry and means it – which he truly would – and then asks nicely…

The door to her cabin is open and the dim, flickering light of a lantern or two spills out into the hallway; she's definitely in there. Good. Oh. But wait. Who's that in the doorway now? Alex. And he doesn't look happy as he stops short and then spins around. Emily's – not yelling at him, but her voice is certainly raised. Alex disappears back into the room again, his own voice raising a bit. They're having a row, then. Not so good. Well, maybe good, them fighting, but not good timing if Joshy wants to apologize. He'd best wait till morning for that, maybe. He doesn't like the idea even half as much, but if he goes for Ms. Gibbs she'll sing to him and all will be well enough. He does like Ms. Gibbs. She's nice, and never yells at him like Emily occasionally does.

He turns around to head back up above decks, but pauses as something else catches his eye. Emily's is not the only room occupied in this corridor – down at the very end, there's another dim light spilling out from beneath a closed door. Innocent curiosity getting the better of him – as it sometimes does – he tiptoes away from Emily's room and further down the corridor.

He's startled a little by the soft snoring that reaches his ears, but it's only the crewmen Emily had assigned to guard the door. This is the room housing the Company men that Emily had been working on. Snorting at the sleeping, half useless guard, Joshy moves in further when he hears voices.

Curiosity killed the cat. Emily's voice scolds him in his mind.

But then she was one to talk when it came to finding trouble, wasn't she. How many times had she been thrown in a cell now? And he'd been the one to get her out that last time! Shaking his head, he tiptoes right up to the door, gets down to press his ear to the crack beneath it, and listens.

"…just what do you think she plans to do with us in the end, Connelly?" That must be Captain Andrews if his commanding tone is anything to go by.

"I'm sure I don't know, sir." Another voice – younger? It cracks a little. Connelly, whoever he is.

"I do. She's a pirate, boy, we all know what pirates do best. Once our usefulness has run its course, as I fear it soon will, she'll throw us all overboard as she intended to do in the beginning. All of us. You're a fool if you think yourself special."

Wait. Emily – she was going to kill them? Like that? His sister would never. Would she?

"I'm special enough that she hasn't killed us yet! Sir, if you give me more time, I could try to persuade her to just let us go! I think, just maybe, she'd listen!"

"And if she doesn't?"

There's a long bout of silence. Joshy's mind is racing now.

"Then… then we'll try it your way, I suppose, sir. What choice will we have? Either way, sir. You'll have to allow me to… I'll need to get closer to her. I don't think she trusts me that well now, not yet."

"Yes, yes, I know. I suppose, in any case, we shall have to come up with a plan to get her thinking you're becoming a little the rogue yourself."

"How shall we do that, sir?"

But Joshy doesn't stick around long enough to hear the rest of the conversation. He pulls away, gets to his feet, tip toes his way back past the still snoring guard, and scrambles the rest of the way down to Emily's room. It no longer matters so much that she's angry at him. She'll want to hear this. She'll need to hear this. This could be bad.

Alex is halfway shouting as Joshy makes it to the open doorway. "…perhaps you'd best try lookin in the mirror if you think I'm the one needin to get over meself, woman!" Alex come storming out of the room, muttering. "Bloody, drunken…unbelievable!" He stalks off down the hallway, not even glancing in Joshy's direction.

Definitely not the best time for Joshy to be approaching his sister. But he's not sure this can wait for too long. Too worried to care about what mood his sister will be in, he barrels forward into her cabin. "Emmy! Oh, Emmy, you'll never believe what I've just heard!" He shoots across the room to where she's curled up in the window seat, face buried in her hands.

"Not now, Joshy." She tries to dismiss him, sounding more weary than angry.

"But Emmy, I just heard…"

"Joshy, please, whatever it is I'm sure it can wait until morning." She still won't look at him as she stands and makes her way over to her bed.

"No, but Emmy, I don't think it can, 'cause you see, it was Captain Andrews I heard, and…" He chases after her.

"Andrews?" Now she looks at him, but she's almost scowling. "I thought I told you to stay away from that room, how did you get past…"

"I was – I mean, I came looking for you, but I… Oh, Emmy, it's not important, really, but what they were talking about…"

"I think you disregarding just about everything I tell you hear lately is very important," the almost-scowl briefly becomes a real scowl, "but fortunately for you, I'm too tired to talk about it tonight." She begins working her hair out of its braid, obviously getting ready for bed.

"But… but…"

"And what were you coming to find me for anyway?"

He looks down. "I had a nightmare. I was going to ask if you'd sing to me. It seems like forever since you've sung to me. Please, Emmy." He's not even sure what the please is for. Please will you sing to me? Please will you listen to me? Please, please will you stop being upset with me?

She opens her mouth and he knows his sister. She won't say no. She never says no when he asks her to sing to him. She won't start now. Will she? She sighs, though, shaking her head. "Not tonight." She says at length.

He pauses, biting his lip. "Emmy. I was going to tell you. I'm sorry for – I'm sorry. I'm just sorry."

The scowl is back now. "Oh, of course you're sorry. Now that you managed to ruin everything proper when you don't understand anything half as bloody well as I'm sure you think you do. You're just like your mother, thinking you know everything that's best. Did I ever tell you how much I hated her for that?"

His very worst fear is realized in that one sentence. Does – does she hate him too? Holding back tears now, he nods slowly. "I'll – I'll just go get Ms. Gibbs. She-she'll… Good-good night, Emmy." He turns, already trembling with the childish tears that want so badly to spill down his cheeks. He knows he won't be able to hold them back.

"Oh." Emily calls slowly, her voice growing softer. "Oh, Joshy, wait, I didn't…" He hears her get to her feet, make her way towards him.

But it's too late. She'd already said, and it's echoing over in his mind. He breaks into a run as the first sobs wrack his shoulders. They don't stop until long after Ms. Gibbs finds him curled up and hiding behind some barrels on deck a short time later.

She lounges in bed far longer than she normally would the next morning, if for no other reason than because no one comes to wake her and she doesn't want to deal with – things. She knows exactly what had managed to bring her brother to tears the night before but has no idea how to fix it. She hadn't meant that she hated him. But she should've guessed he might take it that way.

She can't hide forever, though, and besides, she begins to worry vaguely when Jo doesn't come to drag her out of bed. The older woman is usually the first in line to do so. Unless she's still sleeping, which is possible considering Emily had left her with that bottle. Dragging herself out of bed and dressing in plain vest and shirt instead of bothering with her corset, she forces herself to make the trek up above decks, squinting into the morning sun.

She doesn't see Jo. So that might explain that then. She doesn't see her brother anywhere either. Then again, he'll be doing his chores with the other cabin boy, so there's that explained too. She does see Alex, because he's making a beeline for her, but she's not half as worried about him. Even if he does still look rather cross.

"I should've just stayed in bed if that look is anything to go by." She announces irritably as he walks up.

His eyes are narrowed. "Well, considering the fact that ye could probably sleep for the next fortnight and still be just as much a raging bit…"

Shocked at what he's about to say, she balls a fist before he can even finish the word, sending it slamming into his shoulder on pure impulse. He staggers back, clutching the shoulder and swearing through snorts of laughter, much to her confusion. She shakes her head at him, putting her hands on her hips. "Alex Sparrow, you're either perfectly daft, or you have a death wish. Sometimes I don't know which."

"Just daft, if one 'as to be picked." He straightens up some, still clutching his shoulder. "But now we both feel better, aye?"

She eyes him for a moment, until a smile begins tugging at the corners of her lips. He has a point. "Idiot."

He rolls his shoulder, his tone turning to an almost whine. "S'not fair. Ye're stronger than ye look."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, don't be such a woman. You'll be fine." But they lock eyes and hers saysorry, for far more than just the some-what-deserved-punch.

"Love ye, too." His tone is sarcastic, but his eyes reply that she's always forgiven. It's extraordinarily dysfunctional, whatever this is they have, but they're learning to live with each other's quirks, slow but sure.

She rolls her eyes now before turning to sweep over the deck before them again. "So, any idea where Jo is? She's usually the first to come drag me out of bed after a night like the last."

"Down in the galley I think, peelin potatoes or somethin like that. Looked rather, erm, disgruntled when I saw 'er, ye ask me. Can't fathom why. Ye didn't manage to start up with 'er, too, did ye?" He's only half serious.

"Oh, shut it. I don't actually fight with everyone."

"All evidence, darling."

She only glares playfully as she slips past him, heading for the galley.

…

She barely makes it two steps into the room before an apple sails past her head, hitting the wall behind her so hard it bounces right off and nearly hits her even after she dodged it the first time. Eyes wide, she watches it roll back across the galley and come to a halt… just at Jo's feet. Jo, who is scowling with both hands placed firmly on her hips.

"Definitely should've stayed in bed." Emily grumbles.

"I hope you never have children."

A pause as Emily processes that. "So do I, if I'm honest. We all know I'd make a rotten mother. Care to elaborate on what brought you to this conclusion?"

"Up until last night, I'd have said you'd surprise yourself. You'd make a wonderful mother if it weren't for that temper of yours."

"So… Joshy really did go running to you, then?"

"No, it's far worse than that. He hid himself. Tucked himself away nice and neat so no one could see him, just like you would if you felt like crying. And they were quiet little sobs, too. I almost walked right past. Now, children cry when they want attention or when their hurt, throw tantrums. But crying silently? That means they just can't stop. I don't know what you said to him, but he really fell to pieces, Peg."

"I didn't say… I mean, I know what he was…but I didn't mean…" Emily tries to form a sentence, but it proves harder than normal with the glare Jo's sending her way. The crew likes little Joshy, but none hold soft spots for him quite like the one Jo's developed.

Jo relaxes a fraction, rolling her eyes. "Oh, stop your stuttering."

"I said… it's not important what I said. He just took it wrong, that's all. I was tired and Alex and I had just got done going at each other like we do sometimes."

"Yes, he mentioned that. Honestly, you two are worse than a married couple!"

"…and then Joshy comes in, going on about, well, I don't know. Something to do with Andrews, I suppose I'll have to ask him if he'll even talk to me long enough. But the point is I didn't mean it!"

Jo eyes her a moment, then shakes her head, going back to the apples she'd been peeling. "Of course you didn't. I know you'd never hurt him on purpose, but goddess! You should've seen the boy last night, Peg. It would've been enough to break anyone's heart."

He'd break his poor mother's heart, Riley thinks, if she knew what he was all mixed up in on account of her. She's worth it, of course, twenty times over. But she wouldn't have wanted this; for him to be stuck where he is. Though, in honesty, this is better than begging on the streets.

He's still not sure which side to choose, or if either side is really worth choosing. On the one hand, Captain Turner is a pirate. He doesn't know what she wants ultimately, but whatever it is, it can't be good. On the other, Captain Andrews… is beginning to sound no better than her. The only difference, Riley is beginning to notice slowly, is that his captain wears a uniform – so no one questions him. Maybe it will be better if he can just convince Miss Emily to let him (and Captain Andrews and Peter) go. That way he won't have to choose. Andrews will no doubt go off and tell the Admiral everything they'd learned about Miss Emily, but that won't have to be Riley's problem. Right?

Right?

Of course, right.

So – why doesn't it sit quite right with him? Andrews seems to think that if Miss Emily's mouth is open, she's lying; it's very possible Riley can't trust a thing she says. But that explanation just doesn't work for him. She can't be doing all of this for no good reason, and the Admiral really is obsessed with her, everyone knows that. There has to be at least some truth to what she's told him. If not then none of this makes any sense.

"Riley?" Her voice is soft, almost crooning, pulling him out of his reverie.

Unfortunately, he can't worry about all the rest of it now. Now, he just needs to find some way to make her trust him. Or, at least to make her think he's no longer so fond of his captain and the uniform he still wears. "Yes. I'm sorry, Miss Emily. I was – just, lost in thought."

They are up on deck and she's leaning back against the rail, elbows propped up on it behind her. Captain Andrews says she's quite the seductress, but Riley wonders sometimes if she has any idea just how beautiful she is. "You really must stop apologizing, Riley. You do like to get lost in your own head, don't you?"

He can feel a light blush creep up to color his cheeks. "Captain's tried to work it out of me, but I'm afraid I've always had that problem, daydreaming."

"There's nothing wrong with a little imagination." She replies, turning curious now. "Where do you go? When you 'get lost', where are you?"

Oh, there are so very many answers to that, but he suddenly has a very good idea of which one to use. It's not a very gentlemanly way to go about this, but then again, that was kind of the point. "I'm home." He says after a moment, trying to choose his words. "With this – this friend. A girl named Sarah."

She nods, softening a touch. "Where every young sailor wishes to be, I expect. In the arms of a woman."

He blushes again. This isn't the sort of thing – there is a girl named Sarah. And he does miss her terribly. But he'd only very recently started having those sorts of thoughts. He quietly asks her forgiveness for what he's about to tell Miss Emily, and he abruptly realizes his mother's isn't the only heart he'd be breaking. "Well. Yes, I suppose. But…"

"Oh. It's always fun when there's a 'but…' involved." Miss Emily's smirking now.

He returns it, trying to convey a confidence he doesn't feel. "It's just… lately wishing to be in her arms – she has a tendency to become, well. To become you, Miss Emily." Her eyebrows raise; he pulls back, sheepish now. "Forgive me, that was – far too forward."

She's grinning when he chances a glance back up at her. "Not at all, my dear Riley. I just can't help but wonder what your captain would think if he knew you were dreaming about me."

Riley lets out a breath and tries to sound a little harder. "Who – who I dream about is none of his business. We're not on his ship anymore. We're on yours." He hopes he's being believable. He's half telling the truth, if he's honest, so maybe that helps. Squaring his shoulders, he grows very bold indeed as he goes on. "Captain Andrew's isn't much of a captain anymore, is he? I'm – I'm certainly not sure I'd call him mine."

"Really now?" She looks almost impressed. "Well. There's hope for you then, at least, that's good to know." A pause as she pulls him a little closer, and he braces himself against the rail on either side of her. She looks up at him, snaking her arms up to rest her hands on his shoulders. "Tell me, my dear Riley. You were so helpful to me the last time. Would you be willing to keep making nice with Andrew's, just for me?" She winks and leans up to place a kiss on his cheek, just at the corner of his lips. "There might be a proper reward in it for you this time, if you could."

A proper reward. Just what he'd been looking for. He brings a hesitant hand up to brush back a stray strand of her hair. "Aye, Captain. I think I could certainly come up with something for you.

There you go; this one's extra-long to make up for the next chapter, which is on the shorter side. Thanks for reading. :)