"Sober looks much better on you." He leans in the doorway to her cabin, casual, arms crossed loose over his chest. Still wearing only his tunic, torn and blood-stained, he looks every bit the handsome rogue she thinks he should still be.

It's been several days. They are nearing their destination now, aren't more than perhaps half a week out. Emily has been avoiding him like the plague, if she's honest. He's set to marry. Off limits. But something about the way he's relaxed, the battle he'd fought alongside her... He reminds her less of Imogene's Alex and a little more of just Alex. He's reminding her more of the man she'd loved, and it is really, very not good.

Which is to say, she doesn't look at him, just continues staring out the window. "Mmmm. It won't last long." Never mind the fact he's assuming she really is always half in the bottle and this assumption is, in fact, erroneous.

"It's lasted longer than I thought it would already."

She just shrugs.

"Will you look at me?"

She does, albeit reluctantly. "Alex..."

He crosses the room, pulls up a chair to sit in backwards, arms resting on the back of it as he studies her. "I missed you."

She closes her eyes and leans her head against the window. "Don't. Please."

"No... I mean it just the way you'd want me to." Silence. He sighs. "Listen, I ran away..."

She opens her eyes back up to glare at him. "You ran away because we were terrible for each other and it made sense. And now you're to have just the life you wanted. Don't be stupid."

Eyebrows raised, he rubs the back of his neck. "See, and there's the problem. Right now, you don't sound like the pirate I left behind."

Silence again. Emily glares at him as her mind races, and then she does what Peg would do. With no hesitation, she gets to her feet, sashays the few steps closer to him, and plants her lips firmly on his. He responds, far more vigorously than she could've hoped for. She runs a hand through his hair and he brings both hands up to rest on her neck and it becomes so heated that she forces herself to pull away. And because she's got a part she should keep playing, even on the rare occasion she isn't feeling it, she smirks. "Damn. You're out of practice, love. Then again, it ain' like you're little virgin princess will know the difference."

She wants him to be angry, or at least annoyed. To roll his eyes and grumble at her and maybe just leave her be. But he just looks confused. "Is it always an act, then?"

She rolls her eyes as she plops herself back down in the window seat. "That was your biggest problem. You were always hoping it was just a game. No, Alex, it is not just an act."

"Well, what then? You've been avoiding me. Something's changed."

"What changed is that you're the one who was just acting. I thought you'd make for her the perfect husband for all you were acting such a whelp and then she got angry at you and suddenly you gave up a little and now I see. Treasure. That's all it is."

His brows furrow. "Treasure."

"Yes, treasure. She's the finest little gem you've ever laid eyes on. Of course you'll do anything to have her." Emily snorts. "I dread to think what'll happen when you get bored of her, but you know, I don't think I'll bother caring any longer. She's hardly my problem."

"I'm marrying 'er. It's not as though I can just - I can just make a marriage go away. Why would I do that to myself if I didn't love 'er?"

"Why would you be here talking to me now if you did not suddenly remember whatever it is you might've felt for me?"

"Well, I..." He falters,runs a hand through his hair. "I told you. You don't sound so much the pirate right now."

"Oh, I see." She says, words dripping with sarcasm now. "That's how it works. I'd only get a little attention if I went soft as she is. Except I tried that years ago and you left anyway. So, my original assumptions must have been correct. Salty, scarred little sea girls just don't get to have what she does."

"Emily." He says, tone flat, as if he's just getting tired of her. "Please."

"I'd be bored, living her life, you know. Even with you. Gods, I'd die of boredom." Emily snorts, shaking her head.

"What...what are you doing?"

She's got to her feet and crossed the room, is searching through one of the tall cupboards...and eventually pulls out a full bottle. She pulls the cork out with her teeth, perfectly routine. "Making this easier on you." She sashays back across the room to drape herself back in the window seat. "Fact is, if I'd let you die, I'd have been left with two options: either settle for taking only what you're precious lady thinks I asked in payment, or try to pry twice as much out of the hands of her and her mother, both greiving. Frankly, neither idea sounded too appealing."

"So...you're trying to tell me you saved me just so you could come back around and use me if you ever see fit?"

"Pirate." She smirks at him. "Oh, and I know that look. I've got you thinking. You're not actually sure that isn't why I did it, now."

"No." He says, firm. "I know you better than that."

"Do you? Four years, Alex. You want to know all that's happened in that time? My papa's in charge at Shipwreck. Captain Teague is dead. Uncle Jack and Ana, they got married. Yes, I mean married. Adrienne, she's got her own ship now too, and don't even get me started on her." She snakes a hand up to play with the sapphire tied up in her hair, and continues on impulse. "Do you want to know what else? You've been sailing with a member of the brethren court, and you'd never even have known."

"Brethren...you?"

She holds up the bottle in her hands as if to say 'cheers', flashing a half grin, and then she's bringing it to her lips to take a healthy swallow.

"My father 'anded it off too you."

"You see? Is that proof enough? It's not a game, and you know nothing anymore. In fact, I can't bloody wait to have you off my ship." She drinks again, but only so he won't catch any hint that she's lying.

He stands, and now, finally, he looks angry. "I may not know what happened to you, but I don't need to. It's what you become as a result, that's what matters, and you... I still can't believe this. Either you've got far too good at play acting, or you disgust me."

He storms out, and she relaxes, scrubbing a hand over her face. Just a day or two more and it's over.

Just a day or two more, and he's gone again.

He stomps across the deck with clenched fists. His brown eyes are hard, his jaw is clenched, and he's not about to ask questions. Some part of him knows it's probably innocent. With the way he's been acting, it's no wonder Imogene's found others to talk to. But he's angry and disgusted and sick to death of pirates and how they operate and anyway, Connelly should've known better, right?

He's so far out of control that he doesn't think. He grabs her arm, clasps it too hard. Tears her away with too much force, enough she stumbles and only stays upright because of his grip on her. Imogene shrieks his name, pulls her arm away with force. He lets her in favor of hauling back and sending his fist flying straight into Connelly's face.

He draws his sword and holds it at the other man's throat before he can even recover. Riley freezes, blood trailing down from a split lip. He doesn't make an answering move immediately; his eyes are trained on whatever's happening behind Alex.

(Emily's just flown up the steps from below and met Jo half way across the deck and the pair of them share a look. Imogene is shaken and sobbing as she nurses her bruising arm and stares at Alex with eyes wide in horror.)

"Easy, Sparrow." Riley, holds up his hands. "I haven't touched her."

"You were too close! You're always too bloody close! You did it with Emily and won, I won't have you working your tricks on Imogene!"

"Al-Alex..." Imogene's tiny voice sounds out from behind him, confused and pleading. Riley's eyes train themselves on whatever's happening behind Alex again.

(He meets Emily's eyes, she glances at Jo and nods at Imogene. Jo comes to take Imogene by the arm, gentle, urging her back towards the captain - and away from her betrothed, who's clearly taken thorough leave of his senses. Again.)

"All you've managed to do now is frighten her. Calm. Just take it easy."

"I could take you plenty easy, draw your sword!"

(Alex doesn't know it but Riley waits until all three women are good and clear before making any further moves. This won't be pretty.)

"Alright. Alright, if you're leaving no other choice." He draws his sword and there's no moment in between. Alex lunges.

.

Riley dodges. He doesn't want to do this. He remembers fighting Sparrow before. Riley had been the more enraged that time, and he remembers how it had gone. Trying to match up where skill was concerned and failing miserably. He'd been just a boy and Sparrow had been so much the stronger the fight was, in truth, probably laughable.

This time, the situation is just exactly the opposite. Riley knows; he'd started growing again and didn't bother to get taller after a point, just grew thick and broad shouldered until he was so strong without really trying that even swordplay was easy. Sparrow might still have something on him in skill. But Riley is big. And Sparrow is too wrapped up in his anger to think it through at the start - being big, Riley tires far easier.

If he decides to fight back now, it will all be over real quick. But if Sparrow needs someone to take out some anger on, well. Another advantage to being big; Riley can take a hit. And he does. Sparrow is relentless and his blade moves like lightning and he does dance around some. And then more as he realizes Riley can't keep up so much. And then the game really begins. Riley is about as moveable as a brick wall - if the attack is head on. So Alex doesn't attack head on. He darts around, jumps right over barrels, jumps up on the rail and then right over Riley as the other man swipes at his legs, growing desperate.

It was only a matter of time.

Riley spins around as the smaller man lands behind him, only to find there's now a barrel rolling towards him. He tries to jump, but isn't quick enough. He trips and falls hard on his on back, the wind thoroughly knocked out of him. His sword is within reach, but the world is spinning in a way that's rather alarming, and he's barely worked into a sitting position before Sparrow's sword is at his throat again and this time the victory is, relatively, fair. Riley holds up his hands in surrender. "Go ahead, if you think you'll feel better."

"Don't you dare!" The words are near growled in a woman's angry alto. Emily is stomping across the deck, both hands glowing with her magic. "You are on my ship, blast it all, and you had no reason for this Alex Sparrow."

"You didn't see! The way he - he was..." Alex is beyond words.

"She sought him out for a bit of conversation 'cause you still won't give 'er any, and look around! Smart girl didn't bother herself with stickin' 'round to watch you make a right fool of yourself. Stand down."

Emily's right. Imogene and Jo have both disappeared. But Alex won't budge. In fact he inches forward further with his blade.

"Alex." Emily demands again, and her voice has gone low and quiet now. Far more dangerous than when she's shouting. She brings up one glowing hand. "I'm warning you. Stand. Down."

What happens next is too quick for Riley to really comprehend. Alex moves, Emily lunges, there's a bright flash of dark blue, the sound of a blade clanging to the deck and Alex crying out.

Riley kicks the sword away as he's helped to his feet.

Emily's got Alex by the arm, her hand still glowing. Whatever she's doing to him, he's not fighting her. "Alright, hothead." She grumbles at him, gruff and irritable. "You're spending the night in the brig."

Riley watches her drag him off, wiping at the blood trailing down from his lip. "Damn."

"Please - Miss Imo - you're limping, for the love of the gods girl, sit down." Jo ends off, gruff, though she's clearly worried.

Emily enters the galley just in time to see Miss Ellsworth send a daring glare in the older woman's direction. "Whoa now, Miss. Best do as Jo says. Sit you down and we'll fix you right up."

Miss Ellsworth's huffs, but does as instructed.

Jo plants her hands on her hips. "Now, you're walking on that ankle, so I'm betting alls you did is twist it wrong. Fix to that is easy if you'll let me..."

"Where's Alex now?" Imogene intterupts her, addressing Emily.

Jo scowls. Emily sends her a look and waves her off, and the older woman stalks off obediently. Alone with her now, Emily answers Imogene. "In the brig. Leave 'im there for a night, he'll work himself out."

"Would you allow me down to speak with him?"

"Will you listen if I say no?" Emily counters.

"Oh! He was down speaking with you just before he..." She trails off, beyond words apparently.

Emily sighs, crossing the room to take Jo's place before Miss Ellsworth. "Let me heal you. Then you may do whatever you please."

Miss Ellsworth glares at her, wary. "You won't stop me?"

"You're to be a man's wife. Figure that makes you grown enough you don't need babysittin'." Emily kneels down, hands already glowing, and begins working on the swollen ankle.

"What did you say to him?"

Silence. Emily just sends her a warning look.

"Well - what I mean to say is what is it you two were conversing over?" Miss Ellsworth persists, if a little more respectful. "What made him so angry?"

"Miss Ellsworth." Emily snaps, but quietly. "Leave it alone." The following moments are spent in silence. Emily heals the leg with relative ease - though the process earns not a few winces from Miss Ellsworth. But it's the end results that usually count. "There you are, Miss."

"Thank you." Her voice has quieted again. She is sincere.

"Now if you do indeed wish to try and talk some amount of sense back into your betrothed, you may be my ever so lovely guest," Emily waves the other woman off fippantly as she goes to head back above decks, "though I'd suppose it'll do you little good at this time."

"Captain, wait!" The chair scrapes across the floor, and Miss Ellsworth's feather light footsteps chase her across the galley. "I've - I've an idea." The tone of her voice... Emily faces her again and is surprised, in an oddly pleasant way, to find there is a hint of mischeif mixed in with the anger swirling behind sweet little Imogene's eyes. "I'm aware the request is a strange one, but - is it quite possible I could be allowed to have a bottle of rum?"

"Somehow I doubt drinking it is on your mind, though I'm not sure I'd object if it was," something about the idea is extraordinarily amusing, "but may I ask what is in your head? I'm just not sure I see how a bottle of rum would be helping here."

"Oh, I'm not trying to help." Miss Ellsworth replies, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I just want to give him a taste of his own medicine."

"Oooh. Well, now this I simply must see."

It doesn't take Alex long to cool off from this one. He paces the cell for an hour or so, maybe, and only just keeps himself from punching a hole straight through the wall and after a while he exhausts himself. And then he sits himself down with his back to one wall of metal bars and leans his head back and hopes with everything he has in him that no one will come to see him down here. He thinks he'd prefer to be left alone just for one night.

He sits there long enough he begins to think he'll get his wish. He even starts to doze off. And that's right about when he hears footsteps. One set of which belongs, quite obviously, to Emily with her wooden leg. The other - well, he doesn't know. Whoever it is, they're - drunk, maybe? Their gait is off.

"Y'know, I'd say sorry for what I'm 'bout to do to you..." Emily emerges first, glancing over her shoulder at her companion. "But I sure's hell didn' sign up to deal with this." She's definitely been drinking, he thinks, though how much exactly is anyones guess as she seems to have gotten quite good at holding her rum.

And then her companion stumbles into the room and Alex's eyes widen in something akin to horror.

"Why're there so many steps." Imogene slurs, her voice far louder than he's used to from her as she stumbles back a few steps into the wall behind her. The bottle that got her to where she is now is more than half empty (bugger, did she drink all that?) and still clutched in her hand, its contents sloshing precariously.

Emily snorts, looking amused.

Alex has to force words out. "Wha-wha-what in the name of the gods made you think this would be a good idea, Emily?"

"Wasn' my idea." She just shrugs. "Though, I prob'ly should've known she'd be such a lightweight.." She rubs the back of her neck and holds up the ring of keys upon a which hangs the one to his cell. "Anyway, question is, do I let you out, or lock 'er in there with you?"

"Oooh! Lock us in." Imogene looks him over with unfocused eyes. "I shoul'like to see those tattoos, please."

Alex cuts in quickly. "I'll be good, just, let me out so I can put her to bed."

Imogene pouts a moment, and then her eyes light up as she glances at Emily. "Know what? We coul' get married! Captain coul' do it 'n then..."

"Emily." Alex prompts, because good gods...

The Captain in question throws up her hands in surrender and makes the trek across the room. "A'right. Just do us a favor 'n don't do anythin' stupid. Had enough for one night, me, thanks very much. Though," she wiggles her eyebrows at him, "she's not wrong, and I'd not be unwilling."

"You..." He's sure he pulls quite the face at the next thought. "You sound like my father."

"S'that s'pposed to be a insult? Cause I'm not precisely sure what I feel over that but I don't think insulted is it."

He just shakes his head as he stalks past her to Imogene. "Come now, my love."

(He misses the smirk on Emily's lips as he drags his betrothed away.)

"Oh, but Alex, there's - there's stairs."

He grimaces. Ugh. She smells of rotgut rum and it's so incongruous he can't even wrap his head around it well enough to be disgusted. Imogene Ellsworth, drunk off her arse. It just doesn't even fit. "Erm, well yes, dear..."

"But stays - stairs. Are hard." She goes on, as if he just doesn't understand.

"Well," he's caught somewhere between amusement and angry annoyance, if he's honest, "I've carried rum barrels heavier than you, love, I'd swear it. We'll manage." He keeps one eye on her, watching, half hoping...it sounds more like an idea that would be Emily's. But maybe they'd worked this out together? Maybe it's all a clever trick? A bit of revenge for Alex's behavior? He clears his throat as she pauses just before the set of stairs leading up above decks. "Is Riley alright?" He asks it quiet like, though he's got too much else on his mind just at the moment to really care.

Her eyes flash with something foreign that he's caught only glimpses of before, and only over the weeks since they'd set sail from Port Royal. Something cold. She shakes her head. "He's awful beat up." She replies, quiet, and brings her bottle to her lips and... no, he decides. She really is drunk.

"You've had enough, don't you think?" He asks, gentle now, because he'd driven her to it after all. None of this is her fault, not really.

Imogene's brows furrow, rather adorably, as she blinks down at the bottle. "Captain had more 'n me. I think. She's not so drunk."

"The captain spends a dispicable amount of time at least 'alf in the bottle, that's why. Pick out a man twice her size, I'd put money on her drinking 'im under the table." and there again, that sounded more like the pirate's son. He clears his throat. "Erm, were I still something of a gambling man, that is."

"Alice - Alex.." She slurs. "I like you."

"Erm, darling, I 'ad rather thought we'd moved past that stage, at least."

"No, I mean..." She pushes off the wall and stumbles over to be caught in his arms. "I like you. I like...I like the perfect gentleman who prosed-proposed to me, but I also like...I like my pirate." She seems frustrated with herself. "Why are words so hard?"

His brows furrow as he studies her. "You mean to say you've liked seeing me..." He softens a fraction and, on a whim, brings a hand up to cup her cheek. "More like this?" And he covers her lips with his own, all passion and a little hunger, trailing another hand down to wrap around her waist and pull her close.

"Yes." She breathes when he finally pulls away. "Oh, yes..I saw glimpses of that rogue in the beginning but you tucked him all away for me and I...wish you ha'n't. Wish you coul' be my pirate and my perfect gentleman all in one. Coul' you even?"

And he thinks, in fact, a balance between the two might be exactly what he's needed all along, he just hadn't realized it until now. But that's a matter for another time. Right now, his only concern is getting her to bed. "Come now, my love. Let's get you to bed, we'll talk in the morning."

He helps her the rest of the way down to her cabin, where she promptly collapses into bed. He gets her shoes off for her.

"Mmm, know wha'?"

"What, darling?"

"Think I see why the Captain likes her rum so much."

Alex pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering as Imogene's eyes flutter closed. "Calypso have mercy."

An hour earlier.

.

Imogene tries to get down some of the foul smelling liquid but just can't manage it. She near chokes on the small mouthful she does take, much to the captain's amusement.

Imogene glares at her, mostly playful. "This is disgusting. How you can drink it like you do is far beyond me."

"Ahaha, get enough of it down you and you'll see why one drinks it anyway." The captain snatches the bottle out of her hands and takes a healthy dose herself. "Sides, you don't feel the burn so much after a point."

"I'm not sure I could get that far." Imogene frowns.

The captain looks thoughtful. "You really want to get back at Alex?"

"Well..yes."

The captain crosses the room to her bookshelf and produces a book, bound in fresh leather and bearing no title.

"Captain?"

"Jo's got two books of her own, and another friend of ours two more. I figured, after looking through them, I'd start writing down the spells I thought were most interestin'. Make my own." The captain sets the book down on her desk, and looks up at Imogene. "And, by the way... you could just call me Peg. If you like."

Imogene just smiles, and comes to stand next to the captian. "I don't suppose there's a sort of magic that could make something so awful taste better?"

"Well, I woul'n't doubt that's possible, but as for actual spells that's not what I was thinkin' of. Somewhere..in..here...there's a spell that... aha!" The captain lands on the right page and tilts the book towards Imogene. "A spell that mimics intoxication."

Imogene blinks down at the book. "Why would anyone want a spell that does that?"

The captain shrugs. "Well, I'm sure there's any number of reasons if you get creative, but in our case it should serve to help you put on a good show for Alex without assaulting your virgin throat."

Imogene gives the captain a smile that can only be described as 'mischievous'. "Let's do it."

He almost wants to stay with her, to be sure she's alright, but there's only the one place to sleep in the cabin. And even if that were not the case, should anyone see him emerging from where she's been staying come morning, well. He doesn't want to compromise her honor, either.

He picks up the bottle he'd managed to pry from her earlier, and sighs. He'd blamed Emily for this, but now he's beginning to think it through some. What had possessed Imogene to think this was a good idea? He's still half hoping this is some manner of prank. But she smells of the stuff, so it can't be, can it? Ah, well. Imogene is not Emily, or Jo. She'll wake to the after-effects and swear off spirits as a whole, no doubt.

No doubt at all, really.

He should be angry. He should be disgusted. The smell of the stuff is enough to disgust him. He'd disgusted himself by giving into the idea of indulging in it after the incident with Emily weeks earlier. But somehow he's not disgusted at all. In fact, he's relieved. Imogene Ellsworth is kind and gentle and as saintly as they come...and human. As human as he is.

As human as Emily.

His feet carry him on down the hallway without his full permission. He trails along the familiar corridor (so familiar, too familiar) until he's standing at her door. And he abruptly remembers a time when he wouldn't have had to knock as he's about to. A time when it wasn't her cabin, it was their cabin, and a pang he hasn't fully felt in so long rips through his heart. Gods. Why'd she have to sound so much like his Emily, even if it had been just for a momen there?

He knocks. Silence. He knocks again, louder.

"...aye? Hold on." She sounds curious and just a touch annoyed. A moment passes and the door opens and she blinks at him. "Oh." She's wearing only her shirt and trousers, suggesting she'd been on her way to bed.

He opens his mouth, but for a long moment can't make sound come out. He shakes his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't've..." He turns to go. Really. He means to go back down to his own cabin and leave it alone because that's what a good, honest man does.

"Alex." She murmurs. Grabs his arm, pulls him back so he's looking down into her eyes.

Her eyes. He'd thought, earlier, that she'd been drinking too. Imogene had even suggested Emily had been, even more heavily. But her eyes tell a different story. And now he knows he's done for. "Damn."

"What do you want?" She asks, real hurt somewhere in there. "Tell me, what do you want from me?"

He kisses her in response, because he has no real answer.

He kisses her, and it's not a response at all, so she figures he doesn't have one. And she wants to let it continue - oh, gods, does she want to. He backs her up into the room and shuts the door and she pushes him back so he's backed up against it and he grabs hold of her hair and she trails a hand down to work off his shirt. And there's a little voice in her head whispering 'wait, wait, ask him now, what's in his head, what's in his head?' and she's too smart these days not to listen to it.

There are certain stirrings involved here, and there's a reason she usually starts running when this happens now.

She pulls away, forceful, taking a few steps back and turning away to try to and remember herself. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He stays where he is, so obviously he's trying to work himself out too. "I don't know, I just felt...I don't know."

Emily buries her face in her hands and for a very rare moment, she hears her goddes whispering. Opportune moments, witty Jack would say. De choice is yours. Her hands are shaking. Her palms are sweating. She feels like a girl again. Like she's no more than perhaps seventeen, just realizing for the first time that she loves him. She spins back around and just looks at him and he looks so lost she knows it's true. It's up to her, where things go from here.

But then she hears Imogene in her head, just hours earlier.

'...I did say you could call me Peg.'

'We are friends, then?'

'Odd a pair as we'd make, yes, I'd s'ppose we are.'

'Then I'd suppose you might call me Ms. Imo, like some of your men do, or...or even just Imogene.' And her eyes sparkle as she says it. As if the idea of having Emily for a friend is something she'll treasure.

Emily scrubs a hand over her face and takes a breath and throws her shoulders back. "Let's not do this, love." She says, gentle. "I had my turn with you. And you'll leave with her anyway, when the time comes. No use..."

He seems to shake himself, tearing his eyes away from her. "Yes. Yes, of course, how could I have thought..."

"Moments of weakness." She replies, quiet. "We're all only human, aye?"

He nods. "Emily.. you're a good woman. Thank you."

She waves him off, unable to make anymore words pass her lips. He leaves quietly. She snatches the bottle of rum off her desk and drinks greedily. There should be tears flowing now, but none come. Instead, her fists clench, and she growls at the silence. "You put that idea in his head."

Her goddess answers with an heir of weariness. Yeh mother worries for yeh. She wanted anot'er chance for you.

"Hm. And her wish is your command, of course, I know how fond you are of her."

I will tell her yeh wish to speak wit' her.

Emily doesn't answer. Instead, she takes another hearty sip of rum, and brings up a hand on impulse. With a flick of her wrist and a blue-tinted flash Riley appears in the middle of the room, looking around in bewilderment.

"Captain?"

She doesn't bother with an explaination. Just slams the bottle back down on her desk and crosses the room with determined strides, planting a kiss on his lips. She knows the nature of this tension that's built itself inside her, heating her blood, and it's the sort of thing all the rum in the world couldn't fix. "Come to bed."

"But - I'm supposed to be on watch."

She grabs his shirt and pulls him in closer, kissing him again, deeper this time and longer. "You may want to rethink the suggestion you seem to have thought that was." She backs him up towards the bed and near tears his shirt off. "Come. To. Bed."

He'd protest anyway, if he really wanted to. But he just about never does. "A-aye, Cap-oh!"

"He'll be up and come to find you any moment now, I'd wager." The captain points out the next morning, sitting with Imogene as she pretends to be hiding out in the galley again. "Remember what I told you?"

Imogene nods, eyes dancing with an amusement she's trying desperately to temper. "I remember nothing after forcing down the first few sips of rum. I'm also 'quite ill' this morning, and in quite the mood to accompany it."

"And you just feel very free to take that and run with it." Jo puts in. "Serve him damn right, it will."

Imogene sends the older woman a small smile of amusement before her eyes land back on the captain- who's currently sipping from a bottle. "Peg." She tests out the name, brows furrowing in something akin to worry as the amusement behind her eyes fades some. "Is something the matter?"

"What makes you ask?" But her voice is low and the look she casts at Imogene is dark.

Imogene hesitates. "Well, it's just, is it not a bit early to be...

"Hush!" The captain hisses. "Someone's coming."

"...Emily? Is Imogene with you down there, she's not in her..."

"Speak of the devil." The captain grumbles.

Imogene tries her best to summon that odd, cold feeling that's been plaguing her. She thinks of the reasons why she wanted a little revenge and conjures quite the look to send at him. "...and he shall appear." She finishes off, grumbling.

Alex pauses, eyeing her up. "Good morning to you, too."

"I cannot fathom what you'd think is so good about it."

A pause, he crosses his arms, addressing the captain. "Not feeling quite herself this morning, is she?"

The captain shrugs. "She tried to keep up with me last night. S'ppose I should've warned her..."

"Well, she's learned her lesson now, I'd bet, so no harm done." He replies. He eyes the bottle in the captain's hands. "Though, you never did learn yours."

The captain gives him a stormy look. The pair engage in a silent staring contest.

"I'm sorry, weren't you meant to be locked in the brig?" Imogene puts in crossly, growing uncomfortable.

Alex's brows crease in worry now, his attention focusing solely on her, so apparently he's buying her act. "Well...I mean, don't you remember?" Imogene just glares at him. He throws up his hands in surrender. "You wanted to see me, apparently. Captain seemed all too 'appy to 'and you off to me, even on the condition I be let out."

"...I am beginning to re-think said decision, just so y'know."

"Hmph." Imogene adds. "And you're lucky I didn't give you a slap."

Anger contorts his features now. "You were so far gone you probably would've missed 'ad you tried!"

Imogene makes a show of bringing a hand to her head. "Ooh. Don't shout."

Glancing at her with a spark of mischief, the captain speaks up again. "You know, easiest cure for morning like this is a bit of the hair of the dog what bit you." She offers Imogene the bottle. "Just a sip or two, you'll feel much more the thing."

"Oh, I think I'd do anything just now..." Imogene doesn't miss a beat, reaching for the bottle.

Alex's hand darts out to swat her hand away. "You've lost your mind." And he is staring at her now, as if wondering who this stranger is.

"LIke you haven't done, several times over? Don't even start me in on last night!" The anger is real now.

"Last night - he was too close, I stand by that!"

"So that gives you permission to beat him!"

Alex comes to lean over the table, slamming his hands down upon it. "I've seen men shot over less!"

Her chair screeches as she stands to meet him. "Well go on then, pirate! Shoot him!" She challenges.

Alex backs off. All at once, looking startled, like a puppy with it's tale between its legs. "Pirate. I'm not a pirate."

"Then start acting like the man I love again. Or so help me, I'll go straight to mother when we reach home and call off the wedding altogether." And with this, she stomps past him and out of the room.

...

"What did you tell her?" Alex demands, glaring at Emily now.

She leans back in her chair and scrubs a tired hand over her face. "About last night? Not a thing. Told you at the start, Alex. I can't be bothered with damsels."

He just scowls at her and turns to follow Imogene's trail out of the room.

Jo plants her hands on her hips, looking fretful with her usual scowl-grimace contorting her features. "Should we tell 'er, do y'think?"

A pause as Emily actually thinks it through. "No." She reaches for her bottle again. "Winds on our side. Could be anytime today we'll be seeing them off and from there she ain't our problem. Nor is he mine, thank the gods."

"Hmm." Jo just shakes her head, and goes back to tidying up the galley.

...

Imogene only gets about halfway across the deck heading back to her cabin before he catches her. He grabs her arm, spins her around, and plants a firm kiss right on her lips, right in front of the crew, (who remain respectfully focused on their work, casting only a glance or two at the couple).

"I love you." He murmurs against her lips. "You're so - so precious, I'm worried for you 'ere, just all the time."

"You're such a perfect bloody idiot." She replies, causing him to choke back a laugh. "If you'd started by saying it that way, I might never have had a problem."

He's laughing now, eyes closed, forehead resting against hers. "Oh I realized that ages ago. I just didn't know 'ow to...I'm still learning. Forgive me, please, I'd do anything. I want you to be my wife."

"Well, you can start by apologizing to poor Mister Connelly because I'll have you know he's been just the most perfect gentlemen this whole time." She is quite serious.

He pulls back and nods. "Of course. I'll do that now, in fact and then... I suppose I'd best go down and see about cleaning myself up a bit." He points to something over Imogene's shoulder. "Looks like we haven't long now."

Imogene spins around and darts to the rail, eyes widening as a smile spreads her lips. "Oh, sweet home!"

Merry Christmas everyone! (Or happy whatever-holiday you celebrate - just be happy, darn-it! :D)