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The Pirate and The Thief

By: Lucreace



This is my first attempt at a longer fiction of this nature and I anticipate there will be a fair bit of build up and scene setting. Fear not, the 'juicy bits' will come into the story! I shall try and get an update once a week too. I'd love to hear your feedback and thoughts. Thanks in advance

*

The relentless Swari sun beamed down on Molly's head, she pushed fragments of her dark hair out of her face and smiled up at it. It beat the rainy streets of Karana any day. She sat on the forecastle deck mending one of the sails that had been torn in a recent storm. The damage wasn't bad but it needed doing. The work was monotonous and she still needed to concentrate on making the stitches small yet strong enough. The beautiful wind tugged at her hair loose fitting shirt, the smell of the sea washed over her with every small gust; there was nothing like sailing on the sea, even if it was under the command of Captain Bess Rackham, or Iron Bess as she was known among these waters. Her cruel words hadn't yet managed to kill Molly's spirit yet, anything was better than where she'd come from.

She pushed the thoughts aside and continued her stitching. She'd worked on the main tear and now began to work the frayed edges. The canvass was heavy over her knee but once she found her rhythm she found it soothing somehow. The noise of the crew behind her drowned away and the soft rocking of the ship on the waves were calming. They were due to pull into Nass in the next couple of days and the chance to get off ship was a welcome one. She'd enjoyed her first venture into piracy but relished the idea of sleeping in a bed rather than a rickety hammock surrounded by the other crew members.

"How's that sail coming?" Molly jumped. She'd not heard the approach of the boatswain, "Easy lass, I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, that's ok, I was day dreaming," she said.

"So, the sail?"

"I'm almost done," she said indicating the stitching.

"Go and see Bess when you're done, she's asking after you."

"Thanks Davie." 

The boatswain strode off and Molly resumed stitching, she wondered what Bess would want from her. Aside from the captain, she was the only other woman on board so it was probably to talk about her evil ex-husband or something else along those lines. She had started to do so mid voyage and from time to time she would send for her. The rest of the time she was treated like the rest of the crew -- as a new member of the crew -- which was to say not very well at all. She got the worst of the jobs, the worst of the rations and the least sleep. Rules were rules though and that was the way of it aboard the Red Plunder. 

Molly cast off the thread and stuck it through her loose blouse. She then did her best to fold the sail. It was a huge piece of cloth and she measured a little over five foot so it wasn't the easiest task but she managed. She stood and stretched the muscles in her lower back; she'd been hunched over that rag for hours! She motioned to Davie before climbing the stairs to the quarter deck. Bess was standing at the helm discussing something with the navigator, Joe. She placed a rough hand on the wheel before looking up at Molly.

"Just a moment." Molly waited to one side while Bess continued her orders. She wasn't long. "Come on," she said beckoning Molly to follow her into her quarters.

Molly always felt small when she was in Bess's living space. One of the first things she never failed to notice was the pristine bed, always well made; it was huge, bolted to the floor and would beat the swinging hammock she had herself. Bess also had a giant oak desk bolted to the floor with several books on it. There was a chest at the foot of the bed but the best thing of all was the set of plush sofas. The decorations and beauty of the place seemed insignificant when Molly sat on those chairs. There was nothing but wood and deck and uncomfortableness on the rest of the entire ship, it was a real treat to sit on something so wonderful. Not until she was told to though, it would be a crime to do so. Bess waved her arm and Molly relaxed into the feathery comfort. It was worth it just for the opportunity to sit on something so lovely. "What can I do for you Captain?" Molly said.

"I want to know what you're plans are when we hit Nass," Bess said. She pulled two glasses out of a cabinet and poured two glasses of rum, small ones, Molly was technically still on duty and to be caught drunk on duty was to risk a flogging.

"I don't know," she said, taking her glass and swigging the warm amber liquid. It settled in her stomach and she began to glow.

"You should think about it. I need to know how many more I need to take on before we leave and if you intend to jump ship, as so many crew members do, I'd like to know," Bess said her fair eyebrow rising as she spoke. It tilted the hat she wore to a jaunty angle and emphasised her pretty round face. Molly couldn't help feel a pudding when she was next to Bess. She was tall, slender with masses of straight yellow hair, a classical beauty. Whereas Molly was short, curvaceous with heaps of unruly brown curls. She'd never considered herself much to look at and as the years had rolled by; she'd picked up more than one or two grey hairs. She was by no means old, twenty five if she remembered right, but nor was she as young as she once was. Karana had definitely disagreed with her.

"Are you asking me to leave?" she said.

"No, I'm asking for your loyalty," her smile was disarming and Molly couldn't help but smile back.

"It's been an experience here," she said, "One I have found... different but not altogether bad but I don't know if I will come back yet. I want some time to think about it and to sleep on something that isn't rocking or swaying," Molly said.

"I see. Time ashore is something everyone needs from time to time."

"Will you go ashore?" Molly said, unable to keep herself from asking.

"Of course. I need a change from these quarters and to find a man decent enough to occupy some time," she said with a laugh. Molly nodded and lowered her gaze, "You tell me that you've not found anyone to amuse you while you're on board?"

"Captain. How can you ask me that after everything you know?" Molly said. 

"Of course, I forgot you were an 'unfortunate' before you were here. Men are all blige rats anyway, sure they're useful for the odd pleasure here or there but when you let one in they take everything from you and leave you dry," she said. Here it comes, the rant about the ex-husband. Bess remained silent however, the words hung in the air unspoken, Molly drained her glass and replaced it on the floor. Bess began muttering about her ex. Molly had heard this before of course. According to Bess, she'd caught him in the arms of another woman, one who Bess insisted was an 'unfortunate', he'd then stolen her maps and made off in his ship and beaten her to all the locations of her treasure bar one. Bess's rage at the mention of her ex-husband was all consuming yet Molly couldn't help wonder what his side of the tale was, why had he been driven to another woman in the first place? She'd never dare to ask Bess though, that would be suicide. She didn't elaborate this time "Tell me of the worst man that you ever fucked," she said.

This was another of Bess's favourite games, "More than one stand out but the worst was the one who drank nothing but coffee and smoked heavily. He never washed and would come visiting while in the worst states of drunk. It would take forever for him to get it up and then forever to get it done. After a while, I'd lay there and wait for him to sort himself out," Molly said unable to look up from the planks of the floor.

"And you had to do him anyway?" The smirk on Bess' face was a picture.

"I had no choice, it was that or starve, why else do you think I stowed away here?" Molly said. 

Bess shrugged, "I find it hard to believe you had no other choice," she placed her glass back on the table and stood up. "Think on what I said though, you're becoming a decent member of this crew and I would hate to see you back where you started." Molly took this as her queue and rose from the soft couch. She'd miss sitting on it that she was sure of. She wasn't so sure of the welcome she'd receive if she did come back but that decision was yet before her. She exited the cabin and returned to the deck, where she was soon given work to do by the boatswain.

Four days later, Molly stood on the gangplank leading onto the island town of Nass. The breeze made the heat bearable but only just. It was amazing how much hotter the island was compared to the open sea. This was where she'd caught the ship from in the first place and it was nice to see some familiar ground. Admittedly, she'd not been there for very long but still, it wasn't rocking, it was solid, it was firm and it was filled with people she's not been forced to spend time with for the last three months. She placed her hand on the cutlass at her side, it was a poor looking thing but she knew how to use it in a tight spot, she was reassured by its presence at least. She stepped off the plank and onto the quay. She was disturbed to notice how still it was. The world seemed to continue lurching from side to side; she had to throw out her arms to stop herself from falling. Behind her she could hear the laughs from the crew.

"Strange ain't it!" Len shouted down to her.

"You're telling me!" she called back. She took a deep breath before continuing along her way. She'd agreed to meet some of the lads in a local inn for a few drinks and was looking forward to the next few days. Davie had invited her and she was pleased for the inclusion, maybe things weren't as bad as they seemed, the lads seemed to like her at least. Her first call however was to purchase some new clothes and some better weapons. The money she'd made on board wasn't much but it was enough to keep her going for a while. Then a bath, wash the scent of the sea and sweat from her skin, maybe then she'd feel more of a human again.

It worked, when she entered the bar she felt more than human, she felt divine. She hoped that some of the crew had managed to find the bath house too, smelling bad at sea was understandable but on shore it was unforgiveable. She knew they wouldn't have done so, she remembered the stench of the places before she'd signed up. She threw back the door of the tavern and strode to the bar, "Hey. Moll," it was Davie waving at her from one of the booths. With him was Len, and Rog, next to them were two men she didn't recognise. Must be friends from town. She thought as she ordered a mug of frothy grog. She took the brimming mug and joined her shipmates.

"Has the town stopped rolling yet?" Len asked as she gulped down a mouthful of the bitter liquid.

"Just about," she said with a smile, "Who's this?" 

"This is John Smeethington and Bart Turner," Davie said, "Friends from, uh, before," he said.

"Before?" Molly said raising an eyebrow. John exchanged a glance with Bart, who shrugged.

"Before the two Captain's had their falling out," Rog said, "I don't see no point in shying around the subject, its history," Molly drew another pull of her grog and felt the liquid settle in her stomach. It was vile stuff and she didn't know why she drank it but it was cheap and after the new gear she'd purchased, it needed to be. Maybe she would go back and sleep on the ship after all.

"Is he in town then?" she said.

"Oh God's no, no one's seen the Sea Witch for many a month, she should be due in soon enough mind you. Can bet your butt we'll be long gone before then," Len said with a grin that showed his missing teeth.

"Do you not sail anymore?" she said.

"Does she always ask this many questions?" Bart asked. "Bad luck to be sailing with a woman anyway," he snorted as he drained his mug.

"I didn't mean to offend," Molly replied.

"Nay lass, none taken. I've not sailed since the argument and John's taking some time out on account of him uh, well."

"The Captain's temper was ne'er none too great and the voyage after saw him descend into blackness. I canna tell you why it was so but that's the truth of it. I'll more than like go back when they return," he said. Molly nodded, filing the new information away before smiling back at her companions. She drained her mug and slammed it back on the table, "So then Molly, how about you share some of yourself now you know some of us."

"Not much to tell, I'm from Karana," she said

"Thought I recognised your speech," John said. "Have you been there recently? Been a long time since I was in the old country."

"Not since I escaped eighteen months ago," she said, "I doubt it will have changed much, cold damp place, glad to be out of it," it was the truth too.

"Agreed on that point," Davie shuffled out of the seat as they spoke and walked to the bar. The place was filling up and the smell of unwashed bodies, fish and sea salt bombarded Molly as she sat with the group. She was sure the scent was going to stay with her forever. Davie returned with his arms full of booze for them.

"On me this one lads," he said. They all grunted their thanks and drank deep from their mugs. One thing that Molly wasn't used to was the amount the lads drank. She could hold her own up to a certain point but what they did went way beyond that. Getting drunk out of her skull wasn't something she enjoyed but merry was something she did like. It was fast approaching too as she realised that breakfast and lunch were long behind her. Still, she took the mug and drank long. The lad around her began to speak of the past and although she listened with half an ear, she settled in to looking around the tavern. It was packed now. There were pirates of every shape and form surrounding her. The noise was astounding, how she could hear the lads talking she didn't know but she could. 

The air was thick with the smoke of many cigars and rolled tabs, Molly could feel it burning her chest already and she fought back a deep cough that would belay her newness to this life style. There was a sudden crack and the bar fell silent for a moment. The curl of smoke at the end of a pistol was seen across the room, a man fell clutching his chest. There was a scream from one of the inn serving girls and the sound of a glass smashing. Davie's hand went to his cutlass but Bart shook his head. Already the body was being dealt with and the cacophony was returning. Molly relaxed and took another long swig of her drink. The incident was soon swept over and the inn returned to its usual debauchery.

Molly continued to enjoy watching the comings and goings of the pirates, the way some of them spoke was like listening to another language. She could make out the odd word, like capstan, and grog but that was it. Her eyes began to get heavy, the warmth in her belly from the grog spread, making her legs feel numb. She yawned and Davie grinned at her, "Night's yet young girl, got a whole lot more drinking to do," she raised a smile and sat up.

"Name of the God's where did you find someone so green?" laughed John.

"Hey, everyone starts somewhere," Molly said. He let out a gawuff with a good natured smile that reached his eyes.

"True lass, very true."

"And she's got the fire to keep the best of men on their toes so I'd be careful if I were you John," Davie said with a wink. John eyed her up and down for a moment before settling back with his mug of grog. She gave him a wolfish smile before drinking some of her own grog, she was surprised to find it empty, no wonder she was beginning to feel warm. Bart drained his mug and glanced around.

"Let's get out of here," he said, his voice low, "I hear Plank and his cronies are playing in a dive just the other side of the walks, not a thing to be missed."

"Surprised they're still going," Len said swallowing his ale. "Didn't plank lose a limb?"

"Yup, he's the drummer now."

"What do you say Moll?" Rog said.

"What's the worst that could happen?" she said with a shrug. It couldn't be any worse than the smoke cut smelly atmosphere here. The tankards were all empty so they all rose. When they hit the docks once more, Molly found the sun had set, had they been in there that long? The wind was cool on her warm skin and she welcomed its caress. The others glanced at the sky, a few stars had started to glitter in the dark expanse, they shrugged and continued to walk down the wharf to the new location. The docks were full of people of all shapes and sizes, women dressed in tight clothes beckoned at doorways, men bumbled to and fro, some drunk, some not so drunk and pirates angled their way through the crowded docks. It was such a shock after being on board the Red Plunder for so long. Molly found herself being bumped and knocked wherever she walked and to her surprise, she discovered that she didn't mind so much. The good natured faces of those coming and going made her pay no mind to them; instead she did her best to keep up with Davie. His bandana was a bright blue, making him an easy target to follow.

After a walk that took twenty minutes longer than it should, they arrived at the new venue. The sign named it the Jolly Rogered, the picture showed a ship in the process of sinking, it seemed fitting somehow. The building itself looked as though it had seen better days, the wooden structure rotten and close to falling down, the windows may once have contained glass but it was long gone. Then John threw the rickety door open and he led them through the portal. Inside was the exact opposite of the outside. It wasn't luxurious but it wasn't falling in either. It took Molly by surprise. The floor was swept and her feet didn't stick to it as they moved towards the bar.

The chairs and tables were clear and the people drinking at them seemed cleaner than those in the last place somehow. The scent of sweat was absent from the air, or at least it was more of an undertone than a dominant scent. She could smell rosewood and was that polish? The lighting was a soft glow provided by enclosed lamps on the wall. Her eyes were drawn not to the bar but to the small raised stage at one end of the square room. On it, setting up some instruments, was a bunch of pirates. "Great, we've not missed them," John said as he sauntered up to the bar.

"Let's get some decent seats!" Davie said as he dragged some chairs over to one of the larger tables near the stage.

"Hoi, its Davie, when did you get back in town?" shouted one of the players.

"Few hours ago Plank."

"Blimey, is that Rog with you? Been a long time since I seen you," Plank said as he placed his fiddle on the floor. At that point, John returned to the table with tankards of grog for them all. Molly sat herself down so she could see the band. They continued to talk as she settled into the cushioned chair. It was comfortable to say the least. The room began to fill with the companionable noise of conversation as people entered the bar. There was a lull in the murmur when the players picked up their instruments. Plank struck two notes on a box and the band burst into life. The jolly sound of the fiddle coupled with the beat of the drum and the clatter of a pair of spoons made for a decent tempo. Molly found her foot tapping along on its own accord and a smile was spreading over her face. Davie grinned at her as he drained his mug.

"Told you they were good," said Bart, she nodded and tapped her hands on her knees along to the beat. The upbeat tempo soothed away the tension she'd been feeling over the past few days and her spirits lifted. Rog and Len were tapping along as well and she couldn't stop from grinning. The score ended and after a quick drink on the part of the players, they launched into a popular shanty that everyone in the tavern knew. The singing was more shouting but she lifted her voice in time with her companions with a genuine feeling of camaraderie. It was the best she'd felt for months.


The Pirate and The Thief Ch. 02



Molly frowned, she knew the name of the ship but couldn't recall where from. It wasn't one she'd seen in the harbour earlier, that she was sure of, yet it was familiar. Rog didn't offer her any other information so she turned what she had over in her mind. It wasn't long until the others returned. John was with them, a jovial smile spattered over his round face.

"Captain wants to know if you'd care to join him?" he said. The way he said it made it clear there would be no argument. They all exchanged a quick glance before Davie stood, the rest followed half a second later.

"Be an honour," he said. They traipsed over to the booth and all squeezed around the wooden table. Molly was at the end furthest from the new comers and closest to the door. She had a good view of the room and a better view of their host. The tall man was the Captain; masses of dark curling hair spilled from beneath his hat. He wore a dark frock coat made of a rich brocade, the like of which Molly had rarely seen. Most of his face was still in shadow under the massive hat he wore and the way he sat told her he knew who was in charge of the situation.

"So tell me, how fairs the crew of the Red Plunder?" he said his accent was perfect Quillaan, smooth and flawless.

"Now you should know full well how things fair on board." Davie said. "Besides, with all respect to a man such as yourself, I'd not be telling you the details of the latest voyage."

"As loyal as ever," he said. Molly detected a malicious undertone in his voice but she kept her thoughts to herself. She wondered what Davie meant; she narrowed her eyes as she scrutinized the Quillaan captain. What was a Quillaan doing here in the Swari archipelago anyway? They kept to themselves for the most part, not interested in trading outside their own boarders. Still, he was a pirate and there had to be a reason why.

"Aye lad, not all of us can afford to serve ourselves," Davie said. One of the chairs scrapped back, two pirates stood, their hands reaching for their sword belts.

"Boys, sit! What the man says is the God's honest truth," the men settled back in their seats with a grumble, "Forgive them, they're rather high strung for this profession, they don't understand that fortune has been kind in bringing us all back together again. Just answer me one question," he said.

"What?" this time it was Len who spoke. The frown on his face deepened as the Captain turned to face him.

"Why are you here, in my tavern?"

"This is your tavern?" 

Molly chanced a look at John and Bart who exchanged a sheepish glance, they must have known before they brought them to this place. She crossed her arms over her chest and snorted. 

"And who have we here? Some chit you picked up on your way?" the Captain said turning to look at Molly. For the first time she noticed his eyes, cold and hard, no trace of warmth in the icy blue depths. She narrowed her own and thrust her chin up; she'd not be intimidated by the likes of him.

"Hardly," she said.

"This is Molly," Davie said, "She's a part of the crew," the Captain smiled at that, a cruel line that looked more like a grimace than anything else. Molly supressed a shudder.

"And who are you sir? Who designs to interrupt our first night ashore after such a bloody long time? I was looking forward to a drink and some relaxation. Instead I find myself interrogated by a stranger for an offense I don't know I committed."

"Fiery indeed," John said raising an eyebrow. 

"I can defend myself," she said.

"Of that I have no doubt; you'd not have lasted long on the Plunder otherwise." The Captain's intense gaze fixed her to the spot as he spoke but she refused to back down and look away. She'd spoken her mind and wasn't going to let it go that easily.

"I'm waiting, your name sir."

He paused for a while, looking for all the world as though he was pondering something of the greatest importance. "My name is insignificant and there is no offense on your part Molly. If I have led you to believe so, I apologise. I beg your forgiveness," he said. All she could hear then was the pounding of blood in her ears, or was it the drum beat; she wasn't so sure she wanted to know. "Do you forgive me?" everyone around the table looked at her and heat rose in her cheeks. She managed a nod before sinking further back into her chair. "Now that's cleared up, I should like to know if you intend to stay in town for long?"

"What's it to you?"

"I cannot stand the thought of being in the same town as you knowing that woman is so close, let alone the same room. The sooner you leave the better," he said. His voice was little more than a snarl and Molly swallowed hard. Davie, Rog and Len each looked at each other, eventually it was Rog who spoke up.

"If that be the case Captain, we'll leave this place. I ain't got no clue what she's planning but I bets as soon as she knows you're here, we'll be put to sea again."

"And may we never meet again," he said. "Molly, let me give you some advice, whether you want it or not, you'll leave that ship and find a truer Captain than the one you sail under," Molly did her best to smile but she knew it was a pale thing. 

"Thank you Captain," she said. He raised an eyebrow before he turned to speak with his shipmates. Her companions stood and she joined them. They left the tavern and headed back to the main drag. "Who the fuck was that?" she said. "And how in Maylan's name did we get driven out of there?" her hands curled into balls as she spoke and her tone rose.

"Calm it Molly. It was just a ghost from the past," Len said.

"There are plenty more bars to serve us," Rog said.

"I don't know if I feel like it anymore."

"Aye, he has a way of bringing bile to the back of your throat doesn't he?" Davie said, "Don't let it bother you. It wasn't directed at you. The night is yet a few hours old and Rog's right; there are more places than one in this part of town."

"All right," she said after a moment. Davie gave an approving nod before she was once more dragged through the throng. The third place they visited was much like the first and although she did her best to enjoy the grog and the company, the spark had gone out of the evening. Her companions refused to comment further on the incident so she dropped the issue. She'd just finished her fourth mug of grog when she was approached by a woman.

"Ged's blood, is that you?"

"Mary?" Molly frowned. The woman before her was a slight framed creature wearing a stained dress. A sparse shawl was wrapped around her thin shoulders. Her lank hair was tied back in a greasy tail.

"Al-"

"How are you?" she said.

"Good, what're you doing here?"

"Could ask the same of you." Molly said.

"Who's you're mate Moll?" Len asked, turning around from his own conversation. She caught the look Mary gave her but she smiled back as though everything was fine.

"She's someone I know from way back," he nodded and continued talking to the others, "I'm here because I couldn't take the beatings no more. Jimmy was a rat and I didn't have a space on me without a bruise. How did you escape?" she asked.

"It's not important." Mary said, casting a glance over her shoulder. "Just, look, I'm glad your fine. I have to go," she said. Molly looked at her friend who gave a quick flicker of a smile before she dashed off. She frowned; maybe Mary wasn't as fine as she said she was. She didn't know anyone else in town she could ask about it so she let the matter drift from her mind. She drained her mug and stood up, her feet more drunk than she thought. She stumbled and Davie caught her under the arm.

"Steady," he said.

"By the twelve, I need some sleep," she said, her tongue thick in her mouth, she hardly recognised her own voice.

"Do you know your way back to the ship?"

"Give off Len, I'm green but not that green," she said with a snort. He laughed and she made her way out of the bar, leaving them to their grog. The cool air hit her as she stepped through the door and her head lurched, had she really drank that much? She didn't think so. She looked across the bay to where the Red Plunder was docked, there were loads of smaller ships surrounding it, only one was bigger. She knew that one must be the Sea Witch. It seemed to fit somehow. Suddenly the thought of sleeping on board any ship made her stomach lurch. She staggered up the wharf; her legs had a mind of their own, not wanting her to get anywhere in a hurry. She looked at the taverns, inns and other places of ill repute as she walked.

"Hoy missy, watch where you're going!" someone said as she bumped into them.

"John?" she frowned.

"Molly? Where's your crew?"

"Back there, I was looking for somewhere to stay," she said.

"I'm sure you're ship is a good a place as any."

"God's no. I want a decent night in something that's not swaying more than I am," she said unable to choke back a laugh, "If it makes me a lousy sea-farer, well, I don't care, I just need something that's solid," she noticed John's half smile and stopped talking.

"Happens to us all lass, come on, the Rogered has some decent rooms. I'll get you there safe and see you sorted." John said taking her arm.

"I thought I wasn't allowed back there," she muttered.

"Captain's a bad tempered sod but his quarrel isn't with you, just Bess," Molly nodded as he spoke. He led her through the streets and back to the inn she'd left a few scant hours before. John saw her to a room at the back and handed her a key, "Just to be safe though, I'd be out of here early morning," he said before leaving. Molly nodded as she shut the door, at the moment she didn't care about anything but falling into the bed. Sleep claimed her as soon as she'd fallen.

***

Molly awoke the next day to a pounding on the door, or was the pounding in her head? She wasn't sure. She forced her clammy eyes to open and for a moment couldn't recall where she was. Her head swam as she tried to sit up, it took a great force of will not to sink back down into the soft blankets but she managed it. Molly staggered upright and found that she was still clothed. She cringed inside and staggered to the door. She opened it gingerly, every noise scrapped the inside of her skull and the strike of her foot on the floor sent white lights through her eyes. The light outside was blinding; she couldn't make out who it was. "Molly?" She scarce recognised the voice.

"John?"

"What're you still doing here? You'll get me into trouble you will," he said wringing his hands.

"Give me five minutes and I'll be gone," she said. The sound of heavy boots clicking on the wooden floor drifted down the corridor, John shut the door in a hurry and Molly staggered back a pace. She walked over to a pitcher of water that was placed on a nearby dresser and she wet her face. She then poured herself a mug and drank the lot. It was tepid and not altogether pleasant but it beat the hell out of the stale taste she currently had in her mouth. Raised voices came from the other side of the door; John was arguing with the Captain from last night, his voice was unmistakeable. She looked around the small room; there was no way out, only a tiny window. There was nothing for it. She'd have to face them both. She took a deep breath, strode over to the door and threw it open.

"Is there a problem?" she said her hands placed firmly on her hips.

"What is she doing here?" the Captain said. Under the light of day, he looked different. He still wore the black frock coat and big hat but now she could see his face. He had strong cheek bones and a jaw line that was better suited to a statue than an actual man. His top lip was covered with neat trimmed hair and his mouth curled in a sneer. If it wasn't for that, he'd be handsome enough. His dark hair was tied back in a tail and by Maylan he was tall.

"You!" Molly said her eyes narrowing, "If I'd have known it was here I was being taken I'd have made more of an effort to resist," John turned and looked at her, exasperation written over his face. She hoped he wouldn't be too offended. The Captain's blue eyes fixed her with a hard stare. "Well, you don't have to worry about it anymore, I was just leaving," she made to push past the two men. The Captain's arm flicked out and trapped her before she could make off down the corridor.

"And where do you think you're going?" he said.

"Somewhere else, where I can sleep off the pounding in my head, so unless you want to torture me further, I suggest you let me through," she said. She knew her words were stronger than she felt but she couldn't just stand there and take it. Not after the embarrassment the night before.

"Grumpy isn't she." He said to John. John made a gesture she couldn't read, "Where will you go?"

"Does it matter?"

"Not really, humour me," he said. The smile on his face was wolfish.

"It'll either be to walk about the wharf in search of food or back to the ship in search of sleep, not comfortable but better than standing here feeling like I've taken a beating."

"Bess won't let you sleep if you return to the Plunder," he said not dropping his arm.

"You seem to know her well for someone who can't stand to be in the same town as us," Molly knew the truth of his words though; she'd get no rest on the ship. 

"Everyone knows how tough that bitch is," he said with a shrug. A flicker of hate crossed his face as they spoke of her. Molly's curiosity was piqued, Bess was a bitch, she knew that first hand but it didn't warrant such obvious malice. 

"Very true."

She stood there for a moment longer, the silence expanded until it was almost touchable, only one thing bombarded her senses and that was the subtle scent of lavender oil. As she breathed through her nose it flooded her entire being, it became all consuming, the one thing that existed in that moment. John coughed.

She blinked and found that his arm had fallen away from the wall and he was looking at her in a most absurd way, "Thank you Captain," she said taking her leave before he had chance to trap her again. She fled down the hall and found her way out of the inn, knowing that his eyes were following her every step. She wrenched the door open and bailed onto the street. The bright sun stung her eyes but she pushed on, determined to get out of the inn and away from the two men as quick as she could. She was half way down the wharf when it occurred to her she still didn't know the Captain's name. Molly dismissed both him and John from her mind and focused on finding some food. She was also aware that she smelled awful once more so another trip to the bath house was in order. 

Once done, she decided it was time to return to the Red Plunder. There would be chores to do but the activity would ease her headache and give her something to focus on. She turned towards the ship and found herself back on board a few minutes later. There was a hive of activity, more than she would have thought. Davie was there barking orders across the deck at a bunch of hands she didn't recognise. "What's going on?" she asked as she approached him.

"Molly, you're back! What happened to you last night?" he said, "Don't answer, not sure I want to know. Captain's insisting we begin to make ready. Best make yourself look busy, there's a pile of sails that need some work," He pointed across the deck.

"Thanks." Molly said. She left Davie where he was and set to the task he'd given to her. Stitching was dull but it would take her mind off her headache. She sat herself on the deck and began. The coming and going of the crew sounded behind her. Davie shouted orders back and forth regarding the provisions that were being brought on board. Bess was striding about the quarter deck, discussing something with the navigator, Joe, Molly could hear her from where she sat. They were arguing over where would be best to pull in for careening. Joe was expressing the need for the job to be done as he felt the ship was losing too much speed. Bess insisted that the job could wait for another month at least. The argument was in full swing for about an hour but eventually Joe won out. They'd careen the ship at the southern tip of the Archipelago; it would take two weeks to get there, as soon as the discussion was over, Bess approached Molly.

"You're back," she said with a sniff, Molly nodded, "I'm glad, come with me, I have a special job for you." Molly dropped the sail she was working on and followed Bess to the quarter deck. She led her into her quarters again and invited her to sit on the sofa.

"What can I do Captain?" she said.

"You've been a loyal crew member these past few months Molly and what I'm about to ask you to do isn't easy," Bess said sitting on the large chair opposite her. "I've come to trust you and I think this will make use of your... talents," the last word was said with a sneer that Bess couldn't keep off her face.

"Oh?" Molly asked. 

"My ex-husband's in town and he has something that's mine. I want you to get it for me, or at least find out where it is," she said.

"I see."

Bess crossed her legs as she sat back in the plush chair, "The location of my stolen goods, in particular, there was a trinket that once belonged to my mother. It's a gold paperweight in the shape of a ship, this ship. I want you to go and serve on his ship, the Sea Witch, earn his trust and then bring what it mine back here," The Sea Witch! That meant the Captain who was so bothersome was... Molly palled at the thought. He was so infuriating, frustrating and well, annoying! And Bess wanted her to... "Is there a problem?"

"No, not at all."

"I mean, it shouldn't be too hard, with your experience it'll be easy." It always came back to her other profession. Always. Molly nodded along as she spoke. At least he'd been clean, unlike some of the men who'd used her. And she'd get away from Bess. She'd miss Davie though; he'd been genuinely kind to her over the past few months. Bess had finished speaking and was looking at her, waiting for the answer she knew she'd get. What other choice was there?

"I'll go," Molly said.

"Perfect. Remember, he's manipulative, sly and a complete cunt."

"Any other piece of information I should know?" Molly said.

"No, if I tell you things about him you may slip up and give yourself away. You'll have to learn as you go, just suck his cock a few times and he'll tell you everything," Bess said. Molly swallowed a rebuke

"How will I get back to you when I have what I need?" Molly said. She dismissed her suggestion as soon as she'd said it, there were other ways to get what she was after.

"The Sea Witch always ends up back here, just jump ship when he docks once more and wait for our return. I know you're a good loyal friend Molly and I really need your help with this," Bess said, the plea was written all over her face was so sincere that Molly couldn't help but smile.

"All right," Molly said. Bess nodded and patted her knee.

"Thank you," she said. "I've had your things put together in a carry sack; Davie will show you where they are." Bess stood up and Molly followed her. For a moment, Molly thought she was going to hug her, instead, she clapper her on the shoulder and made her way back to the quarter deck. Davie was waiting for her.

"Don't look so sad Moll," he said.

"Maylan and Gedefray only know how I am going to do this," she said as he handed her a sack full of her belongings.

"You'll not be mistreated on the Sea Witch. I dare say you'll be better treated there and here," he said. The smile on his face was kind and it reached his eyes. He spoke low so as not to be overheard.

"Thank you for everything," Molly said as she hoisted her bag over her shoulder.

"I'll see you soon," he said as she placed a foot on the gangplank. With that, she strode forward and left the Red Plunder behind.



The Pirate and The Thief Ch. 03



Molly's feelings were mixed as she made her way through the wharf once more and she wasn't sure what to do with herself straight away. Her headache had faded now at least and the early afternoon warmth was delightful rather than searing. The docks were busy but not crowded and she found it pleasant to walk along them. The tide was high and the local fishermen were bringing in the days catch. Unsure what else to do, she sat on the stone quayside and watched the boats begin their unloading. It wasn't long before her attention turned to the two largest ships in the harbour. The Red Plunder was large but even she was dwarfed with the Sea Witch so close to her. The Sea Witch was stunning to behold, she looked as though she'd just slid down the slips and into the water. There wasn't a knock or a mark on her hull that Molly could see, her sail and rig were pristine, at least from this distance. She could also see a good number of crewmen working on the rails and other jobs she couldn't make out.

The ships were both being loaded with goods and she could see boxes and barrels, likely containing water, being hauled onto up the gangplanks. Her thoughts returned to think on what Bess had asked her to do. She was unsure whether she wanted to steal from a man she didn't know for a woman she didn't like. Especially using the method that had been suggested, it wasn't that Molly had never done that to a man before, she had and been paid for it. It was that she'd left that part of her life behind her and never wanted to go back to it. If she did this, how was she any better than the whore she was back in Karana? She was trying so hard to leave that behind her. She tugged out her leather coin purse and opened it. It was a lot emptier than she'd have liked. She'd have to find work, and soon. Not prostitution though, she was done with that. She pushed herself up from the quay and smiled to herself, piracy it was then.

What harm would there be in signing aboard the Sea Witch for a voyage or two? She'd need the money and if she was honest, sailing was fun. Her decision made, she turned her steps back towards the Jolly Rogered inn. When she reached the door, her stomach began to flutter. Molly took a deep breath and willed herself to be calm, what the hell was wrong with her anyway? It wasn't as though she was looking forward to dealing with Captain again. She pulled the door open, taking care not to pull it from its hinges. The inside was empty but for the barman, who looked up from the dirty glass he was polishing. "Can I help you miss?" he asked.

"I'm looking for John or Bart," she said.

"Got any last names?"

"Uh, we were here last night, um," she wracked her head, searching for the names, "Smee something or other."

"Oh aye, that John. He'll be out back fixing the room."

"Thanks," she said. She walked back down the corridor she'd fled not a few hours before and knocked on the door of the inns one room. She opened it without waiting for an answer and found John sweeping the floor. "Hello?" John spun round.

"Maylan's breath! What're you doing back here?" he said.

"Well, I was thinking about what I was told last night and from what I've pieced together from before and I, well, I left the Red Plunder," she said. John paused in his sweeping and smiled at her.

"Good job too lass," he said, "What're you to do now?"

"Find a new crew I suppose, not sure what else there is for me," she said. She was tempted to sit on the end of the bed but she left it. John had already straightened it and she couldn't bring herself to muss the covers again.

"Why not talk to my Captain? He's always after new mates," he said.

"Is that wise?"

"Why not?"

"After this morning," she said.

"Don't let that put you off lass, was naught but play, I'm sure he'd be willing to discuss is if nothing else," John said. Molly looked down at the floor doing her best to hide a smile.

"Where will I find him?" she asked.

"He'll be on the Sea Witch if you want to find him there, if not, you could stick around here and wait for him, he'll be back later," John said. Molly nodded at this new information.

"Thank you John," she said, "I'll see what I can do."

"You'll be fine lass," he said as she left the room. She missed the grin on his face as he turned back to sweeping the floor. Molly pulled in a breath and knew what she had to do. If she was going to get onto the Sea Witch, she was going to have to go to the ship and talk away until the Captain agreed to take her on board.

The closer she got to the Sea Witch, the less sure she felt. There were so many reasons not to take her. He'd know she was being sent by Bess for a start. What skills had she to offer anyway? Sure she could mend a sail and she was OK with the cutlass strapped to her side but that wouldn't be enough surely. Her thoughts turned once more to the alternatives and she lifted her head. The loading was in full flight as she approached the ship, the Captain was on the dock overseeing the good being delivered with the quartermaster. The relaxed expression he wore transformed his face, the puckered frown was absent and he looked, well, he looked a lot more approachable than he had earlier in the day. Molly took a deep breath as she strode up; she did her best to keep her expression level, her hands relaxed. Her heart pounded and her palms seemed to leak sweat but she wiped them on her thighs.

The Captain looked up, his blue eyes pierced her as she walked, she swallowed as a grin spread across his face. He handed some papers to the quartermaster and crossed his arms over his chest. A graceful eyebrow raised and his expression turned to one of slight mockery. He leaned back against the dock railing and waited for her to approach him. "Molly," he said bobbing his head when she stood less than a foot away from him, "Can I do something for you?"

"John told me I could find you here," she said.

"Well it is my ship," he said. Molly turned to look at the fantastic brig next to her. She was huge, looking up at the main mast was dizzying, the wisps of cloud rushed passed the crow's nest and the wind tugged at the flag. She was a beautiful ship and Molly could only stare at her while the loading continued around her. There was barely a seam to be seen in her hull, the deck was clean and as she suspected, there was no chip or signs of wear be seen. Her sails were clean from what she could see. Her rigging was neat and trimmed.

"She's beautiful," Molly whispered as she took in the sight.

"Thank you, she does us proud," he said. "I'd show you round but we're a little busy at the moment." A breeze tugged at the loose strands of his black hair and he flicked it out the way, "Now mind telling me why you're here quick so I can get back to work?"

"I want to join the crew," she said blurting the words out before she could change her mind.

"What?"

"You heard me," she said.

"Had enough of Bess eh?"

"Something like that."

"What makes you think I need someone?" he said. "I have a decent crew already, what can you do that they can't?" 

"I can stitch canvas quickly; I'm a decent lookout and a quick learner. I've grasped the basics of navigation and I can follow orders well enough," she blushed as the Captain scrutinised her. It felt like he could see through her and she stood naked on the quay in front of him, "I can defend myself as well, in a fight and from any other unwanted attention too," she said, not baulking at his heady stare.

He nodded, "Get up in that nest," he said.

"What?"

"Do I need to tell you twice?"

She dropped her sack onto the quay and mounted the gangplank. Once on board she swung herself onto the shroud and began the climb. The rope was rough under her hands but she gripped it fine as she hauled herself up. Molly was aware of the eyes of the crew on her as she climbed, she passed the main yard sooner than she thought and continued up the rigging. The wind picked up the higher she climbed and her heart began to quicken. She couldn't keep a smile from her face as she rose higher and higher. The main topsail passed her and she swung into the crow's nest in what she thought was a record time. The wind whipped passed her, sending her bandana from her head and spilling her hair back in waves. She watched as the scrap of cloth drifted down to the earth. She took a deep breath and let the wind wash her worries away with it.

Molly looked down at the deck below and couldn't help smile, the crew looked so tiny down below her, they were going to and fro about deck in a hive of activity. She turned her gaze towards the town, the view stole her breath. The rise of the mountain behind the town was something to behold, she could see tiny trees flowing in the breeze and the eternal rock thrusting up to the sky. She watched for a long while before she was able to tear her gaze away. She glanced down at the quay again and saw the Captain waving her down. She followed his command with a heavy sigh; it would have been nice to take in the sight for a bit longer.

A few moments later, she was back on the quay walking towards the Captain, "Thank you, if I take nothing else from this, I will have the memory of that view," she said as she approached him. She pushed her unruly hair out of her face and held it at the nape of her neck. She had some ties in her bag; she'd deal with it later.

"Was there anything amiss up there?" 

"No," she said with a shake of her head.

"Perfect," he said, "Go and put your gear with the rest of the crew's belongings, we sail with the morning tide."

A grin spread over her face and she nodded, "Thank you," she said.

"We could use your help getting loaded," he said.

"I won't be long."

She climbed aboard the ship once more and found her way to the forecastle. There were the hammocks she was used to suspended from the deck in rows with chests nestled against the hull. She picked the one furthest away from the door. She set her few belongings into it, just some old clothes, a blunt boot knife and her sail making kit. She set to tying her hair back before she re-joined her new crew on deck.

It was hard work, it was hot work but after four hours, the ship was laden, ready for another voyage into the open sea. Molly knew she needed another bath so declined the offer of drinks on shore with her new crewmates. She knew she should go with them but there would be ample time to get to know them over the coming months. The bathhouse was busy that evening and it took her longer than it had done to get herself seen to and cleaned up. Once done, she headed back to the quay and boarded her new ship. It was deserted except for two watchmen who sat playing a game of cards. She nodded to them both as she made her way to the forecastle. She changed her mind and turned to look down the deck, there on the quarterdeck was the Captain. He was alone and was gazing out to sea.

Molly thought for a moment, and decided she could be bothered to speak with him, if he needed someone to speak to. She crept up behind him and leaned on the rail. "Beautiful isn't it," she said keeping her voice soft.

"Do you always sneak up on people like that?" he said.

"I'll go if I'm disturbing you."

He paused for a moment before shaking his head, "These ropes are getting a bit worn," he said giving them a glance. She looked down at the rope under his hand and noticed the tiniest start of wear, "I keep her in immaculate condition you know, you're going to work hard while you're here," he said turning to face her. "I guess Bess let you go and sent you here for something," he raised his hand as she opened her mouth to speak, "I imagine she told you a story about something I stole and she wanted back. She's done it before and no doubt you won't be the last."

Molly narrowed her eyes, "How astute of you," she said.

"Come now, I didn't stay on top this long be being stupid," he said.

"Of course not, I never said that nor thought it for a second. You're right, she did let me go with that intension," she said as she placed both her hands on the rail, "I'm not going to lie about it, what's the point, you'd see through it anyway. But I refuse to be used by that bitch. She has no hold on me and I have no loyalty to her," Molly hadn't realised how true the words were until she spoke them.

"Then why are you here?" he folded his arms over his chest and stood with his weight thrown onto one leg.

"Because I need work," she said. He turned to look at her then; she thrust her chin up and looked into his cornflower blue eyes. He brought a hand up and rubbed his chin as he studied her. She willed him to see the truth of her words.

"There are easier ways to come by money," he said.

"But not so much fun, I love sailing and being on a ship, this was my choice, to leave the manipulations of that bitch behind and start over," she said. He leaned once more on the rail, this time with the ghost of a smile on his face, "Are you satisfied?"

"Yes," he said.

"Can I ask you something then?"

He turned back to her, this time with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, "Go on," he said.

"You're name sir, I still don't have it."

"Such a trifling thing is it not? Does it frustrate you, not knowing? Most here are satisfied enough with calling me Captain," he said, the smirk deepening.

"Is it so terrible?"

"It is feared in these waters," he replied. Heat rose in her cheeks as the scent of lavender drifted over, he'd slid closer and the scent, mixed with the sea, threatened to consume her. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Well, if it's so laudable, I'll leave it with you," she said, taking a step back.

"You leave me no choice, you're under the flag of Captain James Hook now," he said, the smile falling from his face. Molly glanced down at both his hands where they rested on the rail, "Were you expecting a silver monstrosity?" he said unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"Of course not, what're you talking about? It's a good strong name," she said.

"It's a- wait, you mean you've never heard the name before?"

"Should I have?"

"No Molly," he said, smiling once more. "My father saw fit to name me after a character in a children's tale. Happens the character was also a pirate, the reaction to my true name varies."

"I see," she said, "You needn't worry Captain, I'll not go throwing the name around."

"Appreciate that, of course, if you do I could just have you keel hauled," he said. Molly paled at the thought and took another step back, unsure whether he was joking or not. Silence fell between them once more and Molly couldn't help notice his closeness, despite her best efforts to back away. It had happened in the hallway earlier too, he was looking at her in a way that made her knees weak and she wasn't altogether comfortable with it. She wiped her hands on her thighs and gave a weak smile.

"I'll leave you then," she said, faking a yawn. He nodded and she withdrew without another word. She fled to the forecastle and found her own bunk, glad to be away from him and yet sad at the same time. At least he didn't smell awful. She pondered the thought as she climbed into her hammock. She was still thinking on it as she drifted off to sleep.



The Pirate and The Thief Ch. 04



Molly awoke at dawn, her head clear, her thoughts turned to her stomach which gave a growl on queue. She negotiated her way out of her hammock and straightened her hair and clothing. She made her way on deck and found a host of other pirates milling there too. Breakfast was been served and she helped herself to some food. She looked for someone she recognised but familiar faces were absent, then she spotted the quarter master. He was chatting with the boatswain. She popped the last bite of bread into her mouth before walking over. Both men stopped speaking as she approached. "You must be Molly," the taller of the two said, he was the quarter master. He was all walking muscle, his face was bearded and he sported an ugly scar down his left cheek.

"Yes sir," she said.

"Jack, this is Mahoney," he said pointing an over-sized thumb at the boatswain.

"I came to find out what you want me to do," she said, giving both men a nod.

"Mahoney, I'll leave that job to you," he said. Mahoney nodded and Jack strode off.

"Now lass," he said, "I need a new stitch of sail since out last apprentice had an accident with the railing on the last trip. How are you with thread?" 

"I can do that," she said, "It's what I did before."

"Good. We'll see how you get along. I'm the sail maker as well so if you need to ask anything you come find me," he said, "Have you the equipment?"

"I have a few needles and some thread below," she said.

"Go get it lass and I'll show you what needs mending."

Molly did as she was asked with a smile and returned on deck as quick as she could. Mahoney was on the forecastle and she joined him there, at his feet was a large pile of pristine white canvas. "This needs to be reinforced so it can be made into new patches. It's the right size so you needn't worry about cutting it but the edges are still raw," he explained.

"I can do that," she said. She dropped down to the deck on her hands and knees and began plucking the canvas. Mahoney stood behind her for a long moment before walking away, she was barely aware he'd left. The fabric beneath her hands was the best she'd seen. It was pristine, perfect, so very different to the canvass she'd worked on the Red Plunder and these were just the small bits used for patching the main sails when needed. When the sheets were unfurled, they'd gleam in the sun. She dared not think how much it would have cost. The stitches had to be perfect. There was no way she was going to ruin such beautiful sails with sloppy stitching. She sat facing the bow, with her legs hanging between the railings. She folded the canvass over her lap, slipped her hand into the sail maker's palm that she'd been given and began her work. The canvass was thicker than she was used to but she soon found her rhythm. The triangular needle was perfect for this level of work and after completing the first hem, she found she could do it a lot quicker than she thought.

The morning passed without Molly realising where the time had gone. Mahoney drifted across midday and when she looked up, it was to see the island town of Nass receding into the distance. He praised her work on holding up one of the finished canvass patches. Molly couldn't keep the smile off her face when he nodded down at her. She took the moment to stand and stretch, arching her back and pushing her hands to the sky, "Go and get a dram of water lass," Mahoney said, "Don't you have a hat?" he asked as he fell in step behind her.

"I had a bandana but it flew off my head when I was aloft," she said. She paused at the water barrel and spooned a ladle; she drank her share before replacing the lid. It tasted a bit of oak but then, barreled water was never going to be perfect.

"Leave that with me, I'll see if we can't get you something to cover your head with," he said.

"I'd appreciate that," she said, "I'll go back now." Mahoney nodded and left her alone. She reclaimed her spot on the forecastle and resumed her work. The heat of the afternoon bore down on her as she worked the next set of canvass. Sweat beaded on her brow as she worked and it wasn't long before her cotton shirt sleeve was wet. Her back was drenched too; the only thing keeping her going was the fair wind, the cool breeze kept her from wilting too much. The sun followed its arc across the sky unnoticed by Molly; she was so focused on what she was doing. Her thoughts drifted over the events of the last few days and she found herself dwelling once more on the Captain. He was less infuriating now she was on his ship, less annoying, and yet somehow more distracting. She pushed the thought aside, she'd not let him get to her. She looked up from her stitching and saw him deep in conversation with the helmsman, whose name she had not yet learned. His black hair was tied at the nape of his neck, the wind picked and tugged at his knee length coat and the laugh on his lips transformed his face. She could hear it from where she sat.

On deck, crewmen worked to and fro, keeping the ship clean and in good shape. The helmsman studied the charts as he took his readings and shouted orders to the pirates, minor adjustments to the sails were made at his command, he was followed without question. Molly had no idea where they were going but she didn't care much either. The instruments he used looked interesting; they'd not had anything like it on the Red Plunder. She couldn't help ponder how that ship made it anywhere.

A familiar face strode up to her, it was John, "Hello," she said looking up from her work, "I didn't think you sailed anymore," she added.

"Aye, well, Captain's my friend and seems he had a need of me, besides I was getting fed up being ashore," he said.

"I'm glad to see a familiar face," she said setting the canvass on her lap for a moment.

"Glad you're here, I came here to tell you he'd like you're company this evening, find yourself to the quarterdeck at the eighth bell," John said with a smile.

"Any idea why?"

"Captain's thoughts are his own Moll, won't be for much I doubt," he said. The quarter master rang the bell for six and Molly put her canvass aside. She pushed herself to her feet and put her sail making equipment away. John helped her pick up the heavy canvass and together they put it back where it was kept below deck. Once done, John left her with the advice not to eat anything as they'd all be dining together. Molly decided it would be a good idea to get herself tidied up if she was going to be dining at the Captain's table that evening. It wasn't something that had ever been done on her other ship so she didn't really know what to expect. She lay back in her hammock for a while, clearing her thoughts and letting her eyes drift shut, although she hadn't done that much, she felt tired all the same, concentrating on canvass was more tiring than she thought it could be.

The pitch of the ship threw her out of her hammock and onto the deck with a thud. She staggered to her feet, the deck rolled and Molly was forced to grab hold of one of the beams. There was a flash followed by a crack so loud the sky must have been torn asunder. She forced her way through the forecastle and out onto the deck. Wind snatched her breath and a wave washed over her, soaking her through. She glanced up and saw most of the sail had been reefed successfully, except one, which had been torn loose. Several men were struggling to get the flying rope under control. Without thinking, Molly strode forwards, altering her steps to fit the lurching of the deck. Another flash illuminated the now dark deck.

Molly joined the three men struggling to hold down the wayward section of rigging. She gripped the thick rope and saw that it had frayed through and snapped. It wasn't the section they'd noticed the night before was it? She didn't have much more time to think about that as the wind tried to snatch the wet rope from her hands. She set her weight against and heaved along with the others. A giant wave washed the deck once more and she spat saltwater. She screwed her eyes shut and threw a prayer to Maylan to stop his wrath. She heaved on the rope again, hoping that someone would be able to tie the rope off to the bulwark. The ghost of an order caught her ear over the roar of the wind. She opened her eyes and saw the Captain and Helmsman wrestling with the wheel. Both were soaked, she blinked, a flash lit the deck and she saw the broad outline of the Captain's body. There was some power in the muscles, that much was clear, the way he was wrestling with the wheel... She dismissed the thought; there were more important things to worry about right now! A flash of lightning illuminated the deck; the bark of thunder that followed was right above them. She felt a couple of swift pats on her back and she gave the pirate a smile; it was Bart.

Then the rain broke, stinging biting spats of water pelted the deck, Molly rubbed her eyes and mourned the loss of her bandana once more. Her hair whipped her face as the wind tugged at it. She glanced around deck, more pirates were tacking down rigging, some were just hanging on and others were making sure the ropes would hold. Another wave pounded over Molly and she shivered the temperature had dropped and it was downright cold. A thunderous crack sounded above, drawing her attention. One of the top ropes on the mizzen mast had come loose and was fluttering around like a piece of paper, battering one of the sails, threatening to tear it. Worse, it could strike the mast and cause lasting damage. She didn't think, she strode forward and hauled herself onto the shroud and began the climb.

The wind threatened to tear her from the rigging as she clung on; her knuckles were white as she gripped the rope. The gusts made her soaked shirt cling to her back, it was like being pelted with sheets of ice yet still she forced herself to climb upwards. She'd be damned if the sail was going to be damaged on her first night on board. A flash of light lit up the deck, already below her and the thunder threatened to pry her off with its sheer presence. Molly swallowed and willed her legs to stop shaking, if she thought about what she was doing, there was no way she'd be able to do it. She could hear the faint cries of her crew mates far below but she couldn't hear their words, just their encouragement. Finally, she reached the top yard and swung onto the piece of wood. She stopped and took a deep breath, preparing for the next task. The reefed canvass was slippery beneath her and she tensed her thighs as hard as she could, not wanting to fall. She pulled the knife from her boot, put it between her teeth and began inching her way along the yard to where the rope had got caught.

Molly saw the problem; one of the wooden sections of a winch had come away, causing the sail to come free. The yard was leaning dangerously towards the sea, causing the mast to bend. There was no choice but to cut it away, it could be repaired after the storm. She found the point where the rope joined the yard and began sawing with her knife. The wind threatened to batter her from where she was perched and she clung on with her thighs. The rain lashed her back and the only thunder she could hear was the pounding in her ears. She was nearly through, almost complete in her task, when a huge gust of wind caught her. She slipped, dropping her knife. It vanished into the outraged sea below. Her weight was thrown forward and she clung with her arms and legs to the yard.

Wind buffeted Molly as she gripped the yard with everything she had. The burning in her arms was unbearable as a strong blast hit her. She wrapped the nearly severed rope around her hand and once more prayed to Maylan. If the rope had been weakened enough this might just work. She moved her other hand and held on tight. The next gust of wind broke the grip her legs had and she tumbled off the yard. The rope unraveled, sending her catapulting to the deck below, it should have broken her fall just before she hit the deck, she braced herself for the tremendous yank her arms were about to feel. The rope was not quite the right length. The wind picked her up and threw her roughly towards the main mast. The impact drove the air from her lungs, the fall to the deck and white pain was the last thing she remembered. 



The Pirate and The Thief Ch. 05



Molly came back to herself in unfamiliar surroundings. She was lying in a cot, not a hammock and she was alone. She knew she was below deck and she had a blanket covering her. She was also naked. She took a glance around and tried to sit up. She could see her clothes across the deck on a chair. There was a thick length of frayed rope next to it; then she remembered. She coughed and sparks shot through her vision.

"John tells me that nothing's broken, just bruised," Captain said. She'd not seen him sitting behind the head of her bed. Molly sank back, too aware of her nakedness underneath the thin blanket. Heat rose on her cheeks and she swallowed hard.

"Is she-"

"The ship's fine, that was a brave thing you did," he said, "Foolish and rash, but brave none the less," she could hear him shifting his weight behind her head, the memory of him soaking wet flashed through her head, unwanted yet not unwelcome. She covered it with a small cough and did her best to smile. Lavender drifted over her as she moved and she breathed deep, she pictured her head resting in his lap, his long black curls tickling her as he leaned over. His delicious hands would cup her chin as... "Are you all right?" he asked looking over the top of the cot.

"I think so," she said, dismissing her train of thought, she wished the colour of her cheeks wouldn't betray her so. He raised an eyebrow as she gripped the blanket tight against her, "Who undressed me?"

"It wasn't myself if that's what you're worried about," he said.

"No, no that's not it!" she said

"Oh? So you wouldn't mind me undressing you?"

"That's not what I meant at all!"

"There's a shame," he said with a shrug, "The blush on your cheek says otherwise."

"Maylan's breath! Did you come here to annoy me?" she said thrusting her chin upwards.

"No. I came here to see if you'd still want to join us, that's myself and my officers, for dinner later. I was going to introduce you but if you find me so deplorable I'd happily forego the whole affair," he said. Molly felt blood pour into her cheeks and she swallowed back a retort. Would it be so bad? Getting to know the crew would definitely help her during the coming weeks and pissing off the Captain would do her no favours. She forced a smile onto her face and turned her head to look at him. The cornflower blue eyes twinkled down at her, how could she refuse?

"I'd love to," she said, it sounded false in her ears but it was the best she could manage. He nodded before standing.

"Good, I'll meet you on deck at the sixth bell," he said. She listened as his footsteps receded and climbed the ladder back onto the deck. Then she relaxed back into the cot, name of the God's what was she thinking? There was no way this could go well but then, there was no way she could get out of it either. Maybe she could get away with having a couple of drinks and some food, then claiming she had a headache and leave early. She'd not offend anyone that way and she'd just fallen off the rigging, no one would be able to question her for leaving. That sorted she settled herself and let her eyes close once more.

Molly was unsure how long it was she'd slept for but when she awoke, she felt fresher than she had for a while. She sat up and stretched, her ribs were still sore but not as much as they had been earlier. She wrapped the blanket around her and stood. Her clothing was still on the chair so she made her way there. She was dressed in no time. She replaced the blanket on the cot. "I can get you some soap and water if you like." Molly jumped and spun round.

"Ged's blood!" she said.

"Sorry Molly," another pirate stepped through the hatch and gave her a smile. It was another lady.

"I thought I was the only woman on board," Molly said trying her best to keep her shock from her face.

"Of course not, name's Sasha," she said. Sasha was a short blonde lady somewhere around Molly's age, "I'm the one who tends wounds and helps Cook when needed. I'm no trained doctor but I'm the closest thing this ship has. I was the one who undressed you and made sure you were well," she explained.

"Thank you," Molly said, "What time is it?"

"Just past fifth bell, evening. Did you want some water?" Sasha said.

"Yes, I don't think I should go to dinner smelling of sweat and salt," she said.

"What do you think the rest will do?"

"Lavender scent isn't so bad," Molly said with a shrug.

"Aye, but Captain's different. He's an educated man, not common riff-raff like the rest of us," she said. She turned away for a moment and then turned back with a bucket filled with water, "It's seawater, we ain't going to waste drinking water on washing."

"Of course not," Sasha handed Molly the lump of rye soap and walked passed her. Molly washed as best she could. She had to admit, when she was done, she felt so much better, "Thank you," she said, "Where do you want this?"

"Just stick it through there, I'll deal with it shortly," Sasha said. 

"I'll see you soon," Molly said. Sasha nodded and she left, heading back to the forecastle. The usual hive of activity was present on deck, swabbing, adjusting, mending and climbing. Molly smiled as Bart greeted her with a clap on the shoulder. Mahoney called her from the main yard and she waved as she looked up at him. Had she climbed up that far last night? It seemed so much further when she stood down here looking up. She continued back to her own living space and grabbed some clean clothes. They were the new ones she'd purchased in Nass, they were still soft from the makers washing and she sighed as she shrugged into them. The watch bell began to ring, she smiled and made haste, by the time the last bell had rang, she was on the quarter deck waiting for the Captain.

When he strode out the cabin he looked, well, he looked like a pirate. He wore a huge red frock jacket over his black waist coat and white shirt. His black curls were kept out of his rugged face by his large hat and those bright blue eyes flashed when he saw her waiting there. He strode over, polished boots clicking on the pristine deck, "There, I thought you'd change your mind," he said.

"And spent the rest of the voyage avoiding you?" she said.

"There are places," he said.

"Yes but the bilges are hardly a place I want to spend all my time."

"Very true," he conceded, "If you come with me dear Molly, I'll show you around the rest of the ship," he said. He held the crook of his arm out for her and she blinked once before linking hers through it. The red coat was made of soft velvet and she couldn't stop pushing at the fibres with the tips of her fingers. He led her across the quarter deck and onto the poop deck. "This is my favourite part of the ship," he said, "Watching the sun set is something else, on a calm sea after a long day you can lose yourself here," he led her to the rail and she looked back across the sea. The soft breeze picked at her hair and she knew what he meant. She unlinked her arm and leaned over the rail, watching the swell of the waves and white caps as they sailed onwards. He was right; the sun had just caressed the horizon sending washes of red light over the sky. The sea itself was the calmest she'd ever seen it, barely a ripple on the glassy surface below them, "Do you like it?" he asked joining her at the rail.

"Of course I do, you knew I would," she said. He gave her a smile confirming her suspicions. 

"I know what it's like on the Red Plunder, I doubt she'd have shown you any of the small joys there are on board," he said. He leaned against the Taff rail and followed her gaze out to sea.

"I was in the bilges a lot, after that I repaired sail and fought when it was required. Bess realised I was a woman half way through the trip, after that, she'd summon me to talk at me about the injustices she thought had been done against her," Molly said.

"You won't have heard much good about me then," he said.

"Not really."

"Yet you're still here?"

"Is it so hard to believe?" she said with a shrug. He didn't answer, instead focused on the setting sun.

"Come on then Molly," he said finally, "If you're as hungry as I am you'll be anxious to get below."

Her stomach growled as if on cue and she realised the truth of his words, she was famished! "What about the rest of the ship?" she said.

"There's enough time for that later," he said, once more extending her arm. She took it, enjoying the feel of his strong arm through the fabric. He led her back to the quarter deck and through the door. The large cabin had been partitioned and a dining table was set in the middle of the room. There was a door, which was shut, in the middle of the partition. Molly guessed that it would lead to the Captain's private quarters. He pulled a chair out at the table for her and beckoned her to sit. She did so and only when he was sure she was settled, did he see to his own comfort. Sitting at the table already were three men, the Helmsman, Quartermaster and the Boatswain. Jack, the quartermaster and Mahoney, the boatswain, she already knew, she'd only seen the helmsman from a distance so gave him a polite nod. 

Molly was out of her depth and she knew it. What could she possibly have to say to these fine experienced seamen? She looked into the faces of each one in turn and did her best to not balk and run for the door. "Molly, this is Jack, Mahoney and Harri, finer men afore the mast you'll never meet," he said

"Rum?" Harri said by way of greeting.

"I thought you'd never ask," said Mahoney. Molly held out her mug for Harri to fill it before taking a delightful little swig. The honey liquid slipped down her throat and pooled in her stomach, spreading warmth with it. It was a million times better than the grog she'd drank back in Nass. The door opened and Cook walked in carrying a huge bowl of hot stew. Sasha followed with a plate full of bread rolls, "Don't get used to it fella's, it won't last for much longer," he said as he placed the food on the centre of the table. Sasha served the stew to them before they both left.

"Eat up, please, before it gets cold," Captain said. Molly didn't need telling twice, the smell coming from the bowl in front of her was divine. She picked up her roll and commenced battle with the stew. It was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted, the meat fell apart when it was touched by her spoon, the gravy was thick and clung to her bread but never fell off or made a mess. There was complete silence around the table as they all ate and drank their fill of rum. When she was done, she pushed her bowl to one side and relaxed back into the comfortable chair with her mug of rum.

"Now tell me you enjoyed that!" Harri said.

"Maylan's breath, that was some of the best food I've ever eaten," Molly said. She knew the smile on her face was silly but the warm food and warming rum had flushed her cheeks and she couldn't keep the smile away.

"I'd not let Cook hear that, go straight to his head it will," Jack said.

"Now Molly, tell us of you," Mahoney said as he pushed his food aside.

"There's not much to tell, I came here from Karana," she said, not wanting to tell them everything but not wanting to lie either, "I lost my family, was living on the street so decided to gain passage south. My ship was wrecked and I wound up in Nass eight months ago. I needed work so signed on the first ship I came across, the Red Plunder. The rest you know," she said.

"And how did you find life on the Plunder?" Harri asked.

"I faired OK," she said, "I began learning a trade and aside from the harsh words of the captain life was agreeable to me," she added as she sipped her rum. She found the mug empty and Harri refilled it for her. "And how did all of you end up here?" she asked. The four men looked at each other, Jack coughed.

"I joined this crew many moons ago, I've always been a sea faring man and after a stint on shore I signed up and have been here since," Jack said.

"Aye, I think Jack speaks for us all," Mahoney said.

"What about you?" she said turning to the Captain. She rested her chin on her hands and her elbows on the table, he was her sole focus for the moment, it would be interesting to hear his story.

"Oh, it's the same as all the other tragic tales you hear," he said leaning back in his chair, his long legs spread out before him, "I was given a career in the navy which fell to ruin, I found myself also in Nass and built myself up from there. Not an interesting story and not worth dwelling upon," he said. He removed his hat and pushed his hand through his thick black locks. Molly nodded at his answer yet noticed the mistruth of it, Quillaa had no navy. She took another swig of her rum and shifted her weight. The men began talking of headings and proposed, the soft sway of the ship rocked her and combined with the warm food and the alcohol, made her eyes heavy.

"Come, we're sending Molly to sleep with our prattle," Jack said. Molly jumped and smirked.

"No such thing!" she replied.

"Liar," Captain said.

"And you were watching me were you?" she said, unable to choke back a laugh. She leaned her cheek on her hand and smiled up at him.

"If Jack noticed it must have been obvious," he shrugged, "Bring some cards out Mahoney," he said, "Maybe that will keep Molly awake. You do know how to play right?"

"Depends what you play," she said. It had been years since she'd played and never been something she took much enjoyment from. Still, Harri filled her mug once more and she found that she didn't want to leave just yet. 

"Frigates?"

She nodded, that was one game she did play. A board was produced and soon enough, the game was underway. She was paired with Jack and Mahoney, while Captain played on a team with Harri. She took the time to study him while hiding her face behind her cards. Flashes of his soaked muscled body ripped through her mind as she gazed at hands holding the cards. Thoughts of what those hands could do coloured her cheeks, at least the rum hid that well enough. His blue eyes lingered on her too and she could feel them searching her while they played. She drained her mug once more and Harri on the ball as ever, refilled it. She picked it up and grinned, so much for pleading a headache and leaving early.



The Pirate and The Thief Ch. 06



The watch bell rang outside; Jack snorted and threw his cards down. "That'll be me lads, got to shake these scabrous dogs into shape," he said. He pushed his chair back and rose, "Molly, it's been a pleasure."

"Come on Mahoney," Harri said. Mahoney nodded.

"Aye," he said with a yawn. The three men fled the cabin. That's what it looked like at least. Molly looked down at her full mug and scowled after Harri, she'd not be able to leave until it was empty and this was something he must have known well. 

"Was my company that bad?" Molly said after they'd gone. 

"Not at all dear Molly, they're devoted to their task," he said. There was a slight flush in his chiselled cheeks; she smiled, knowing the rum was affecting him too. He threw his cards on the table and leaned back on his chair. "So what now? Our partners have cut and run and left us bereft of suitable players," he said.

"Is there no one else we can get to play?" she said.

"Not to any skill," he said. He picked up his mug and drank deep, his hand engulfed the vessel making Molly realise once more how large the Captain was. Molly sipped some more of her own.

"There's a shame," she shrugged, "What do you propose we do instead?"

"What indeed?" he said. He placed his mug on the table and stood, "I can show you some of the more intimate parts of my ship," he suggested striding across the cabin, "Or I could introduce you to the fine art of navigating the charts." This suggestion was broached as he came to stand behind her chair. His lavender scent filled the air and she took a shallow breath through her nose. She closed her eyes and bit back a sigh. Her heart hammered, she wiped her hands on her thighs. She flinched as his cool hand brushed the hair from the back of her neck. Molly knew she should run, flee from the cabin but couldn't move, maybe it was the rum, maybe it was his smell, maybe it was the way the tips of his fingers rested on the nape of her neck.

"Captain-"

"Please, call me James."

"James then," she said.

"Yes?" he whispered. His voice a mere purr in her ear, she shivered.

"I think I'd like some air, if that suits you," she said. James took a step back and hooked her elbow with his hand. He drew Molly to her feet with the slightest of pressure and linked her arm with his. Molly staggered and giggled as he held her up.

"I believe some air would do you some good. Come this way." He led her through the other door in the partition and into his private cabin.

"This isn't air," she muttered.

"No," he said. "But if you stop looking around my bedroom and focus on that side there, you'll see there is a door leading to the gallery which is a small viewing deck in the open air," he explained as she gazed at the cabin.

"I know what a gallery is!" she said. James raised an eyebrow at her as they crossed the cabin. He pushed the door open and the wave of cool air washed over Molly. She reclaimed her arm and rushed forward into the breeze. Her head cleared and yet seemed to remain fuzzy at the same time. She took a deep breath, relishing the taste of the sea on the wind. She leaned her hands on the rail and gazed into the velvety blackness of the sky. The stars provided the only light and they shimmered on the waves as the ship rocked by. James stood right behind her, leaning his long arms next to hers, his hands just brushing hers. His long body was so close, tightness settled in the bottom of her stomach which was not altogether unwelcome. She leaned back into his warmth, the breeze was cooler than she thought and gooseflesh rose on her arms.

"What do you think of the view then?" he whispered.

"It's dark James, I can't see-"

"Not the stars on the water? The quiet lapping of the waves, even the flicker of the lights from the ship?" he said keeping his voice low. She looked out from the gallery but couldn't focus on anything, he was too close, too much of a presence for her to concentrate on anything as mundane as starlight on the sea. She giggled, unable to keep inside the absurdity of it all. "What's so funny?"

"It's-" she said trying to suppress another laugh, "What're we even doing here James?"

"Well, you wanted some air and I thought I was keeping you warm, there's a chill in the breeze, if you'd rather freeze I'm happy to oblige..." 

"No, no, stay," she said. He chuckled low in his throat and wrapped his large arms around her. He was so warm against her back, she couldn't help relax into his solid body, revel in his presence. He brushed her hair out of his face and rested his cheek against her neck. His skin grazed against hers and the shiver that ran up her spine was nothing to do with the cold. She turned her head and his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that was as delicious as it was surprising. His lips were soft on hers, framed with the tickling coarse fuzz of his moustache. The taste of him lingered as she broke away and laughed.

"Where did that come from?" she said with a snigger.

"Do you always giggle this much?" 

"Well you're the one that gave me all that rum," she countered.

"Yes, I forced it down your throat as you sat tied to a chair unable to lift your arm," he said. Molly laughed, unable to keep the mirth away. He smiled back and she noticed the small crinkles in the corners of his eyes. She ran her tongue over her top lip and took a deep breath through her nose, breathing him in. His hands came up and pushed her unruly hair from her face. His movement sent cascades of lavender washing over her. She was powerless to stop him, didn't want to, as his lips met hers once more. His mouth crushed against hers, powerful, demanding, urging her to let him inside. She surrendered. Molly's lips parted and his tongue surged into her mouth. She battled into his mouth, feasting on his taste. She gripped his forearms as her head twisted first left, then right. Each time he moved, she fought deeper into his open mouth.

Molly broke away and twisted herself so she faced him, her lips tingled after his assault and as she looked at his sensual mouth, he pulled her close once more. Molly's legs trembled as he ran one of his long fingers along her jaw. He paused at her chin for the briefest of moments before claiming her once more. Their tongues collided once more in battle, surging into each other as though it was the only thing in the world that mattered. At that moment, to Molly at least, it did. His mouth was the most exquisite, lustful, delicious mouth she'd ever kissed and she wanted to savour every taste, every movement, every sensation he had to offer.

She wanted him. Molly, the ex-whore who had no interest in seeing another man, wanted this one more than she'd wanted anyone else. She forced her hands through his thick black hair and curled her fingertips around the short hair at the base of his neck. He moaned into her mouth and his neck muscles tensed under her fingers. She changed tactic, she moved away from his lips and swept her tongue over his chin and down to his throat. The noise he made vibrated through her tongue, it was divine. She grazed his apple with her teeth before he thrust his hand round her hair and yanked her head back. His blue eyes flashed down at her; her knees buckled.

"Too much?" he said. His voice was a coarse whisper.

"I-" she wanted to say how he should drag her inside and show her what he could do with the growing bulge between his legs but the words wouldn't come out. All she could manage was a giggle that sounded a little too high. He took her hand and gave a kiss, somewhere between a chaste brushing of lips and the assault he'd just made. He pulled her back through the door; she shut it with a gentle kick before he tugged her forward against him again. His mouth found hers again and the assault began anew. James brushed a hand down her throat, over her shoulder and stopped to cup her breast. His thumb grazed the hardening nipple, pushing the fabric of her shirt against the sensitive mound. Molly moaned as he touched her with an unfamiliar gentleness.

Molly nudged her tongue into his mouth, his taste was addictive and she couldn't get enough of him. His arms withdrew from her and he tried shrugging out of his long frock coat without breaking contact with her lips. He nearly managed, leaving her swollen mouth for a brief moment. The coat fell to the floor with a rustle, his eyes ravaged her and she took a tentative breath. James grabbed the shoulders of her shirt and tugged at the fabric. It tore and fell to her waist. Molly laughed. "I needed that," she said.

"I'll give you one of mine," he said. His voice was little more than a growl, "You can sew, make it fit."

"I gue-" her words were silenced by his mouth.

"Enough talk," he said. He grabbed her shoulders and forced her backwards. The huge bed at the side of the cabin hit the back of her legs and she fell backwards. James followed her, his weight pressed over her as his mouth ravaged hers. Molly wrapped her legs around his waist and arched her back. Her heart was pounding like a canon; no one had ever kissed her like this before. She'd never let the men kiss her much before but he was something else. The feel of him over her like this was wondrous. She pushed her hand against his chest; his well-defined muscles were steel hard under her hand. Molly continued her exploration, her descent, with her inquisitive hands. She pushed against him and he obliged by rolling over.

It was Molly's turn to ravage him with her eyes, and her hands. She pushed his shirt up and he lifted it deftly over his head in one fluid movement. The image of him in a storm flashed before her and she smiled. She giggled, leaned over and blew against his flat chiselled stomach. James creased up in a laugh, "Maylan's breath Moll," he swore, yet the curse had no bite.

She made it up to him by brushing her tongue against the place she'd blown, kissed gently, "Forgive my folly good Captain," she said. He leaned back onto the soft pillows with a moan. Molly moved her hand to attack the buckle of his wide belt. Her fingers made swift work of it but before she could thrust her hand down the front and begin massaging his engorged cock, James sat up, pushed her back and tugged off her boots and pants.

James looked down at her and she couldn't help feel a bit exposed, naked as she was. She gave a weak smile and forced her hands to relax, he'd not do her harm, of that she was sure. Still, the men who'd used her before didn't care for her nakedness, just one part of her body, the part that James was now running a long finger towards. She evened her breathing as he plunged his finger into the dark curls and parted her folds. Molly was surprised to find his finger came away slick. The sliding melting sensation she experienced as he slipped his fingers inside her was delightful; then he found her nub.

It was like hot wires seared her ankles, hot wires of fiery pleasure that slipped and slid with every slight movement his finger made, "James..." she muttered. He made no reply, just grinned down at her. Her hips lifted on their own accord and she brought her foot up. She used her toes to rub against the impressive bulge in his pants. He moaned low in his throat. She gripped his waistband with her feet and yanked down. It sort of worked. James laughed at her attempt and did the rest for her. As he stood to remove his pants and boots she got a look at him naked. He was impressive, from the well-muscled calves, his structured thighs and carved chest. Her throat dried and she swallowed hard as she saw his cock. It was in keeping with the rest of his body that much was true.

"Come here James," she said.

"Are you giving me orders now?" he said raising a black eyebrow.

Molly sniggered, "Why I suppose I am. You'll not leave me in such a state and I'll not see you walk about on deck trying to hide that!" she said pointing at his cock.

"Well," he said with a shrug. He said nothing more, just clambered onto the bed and came to rest his knees between her thighs. She stifled another giggle as he grabbed one of her legs. He raised it to his mouth and nibbled the soft skin there. Molly creased up with laughter.

"Stop it! That tickles!" she demanded. He did no such thing and continued to taste her skin. His stubble grazed at her and she laughed, unable to stop. She bit her lip and forced herself upright; she grabbed a handful of black curls and pulled his head away from her skin. She gave his lips hers and slowly lowered herself back onto his soft bed. His scent washed over her as he came closer and she shivered. An ache grew in her belly and she jumped as the tip of his cock brushed where he'd been nibbling.

His hand reached under her hips, lifting them. With a swift thrust he filled her. Molly gasped with the sudden invasion. She clenched around his cock before she forced herself to relax. His mouth found hers and gave her a reassuring kiss. His mouth was so soft and she moaned against him, "That good huh?" he whispered. She nodded. It was the truth too.

"How about when I do this," she said, squeezing as hard as she could around him. He closed his eyes and made a guttural sound in the back of his throat. She relaxed and he pushed forward. Molly bunched her hands into fists, grabbing the sheets under her. Her back arched and she accepted his full length. Just as she became accustomed to him, he withdrew. She felt the loss for a moment before he returned. His thrusts were long sweeping affairs which brought with them a deep red fiery sensation. She reached up her hand and ran her fingers down his chest. He moaned as she gave his nipple a playful pinch.

James sat back on his knees, pulling her body with him. He continued his graceful thrusts as he placed a thumb on her sensitive nub. White exploded across Molly's vision as he teased her. She bucked upwards against his hand and let out a deep sound she didn't recognise as her own, "God's," she whispered as he increased the pressure on her clit.

"It's James actually but thanks," he said. She waved an arm at him but let it fall back to the pillow as he thrust forward once more. The bands of fire travelled up her legs with every movement he made. The deep hollow sensation in her belly began to sink and her legs tingled. She pushed a hand through his hair and grabbed the top of his head. She forced James to lie forward. She kissed him long and deep, breathing in his scent, less lavender and more musky now. For the better. She wrapped her legs around his waist and the fire reached the hollow of her belly.

"Fuck me Captain," she said her voice hoarse. He claimed her mouth as he gave a huge thrust. She gasped and red light flashed before her. Her back arched and he withdrew, thrust, withdrew. Faster now. Her arms clamped around his broad back, her thighs crushed his waist. Her heart pounded in her ears and she rose to meet his every advancement. Wet silky liquid pooled against her as he thrust, she clenched against his thick shaft. Rolling waves of heat chased down her belly and she let out a heavy moan. She stole a ragged breath and saw James's eyes roll back in his head. She closed her eyes and let the building wave swallow her.

Sheets of red silk covered her and she bit her lower lip, bruising the already tender flesh. This must be what being shipwrecked was like; she crashed into the shore of pleasure. She fell into the great ocean and she screamed. Her body convulsed and tensed, her breath held in her throat for the longest of moments, waves of red flowed through her. James thrust once, twice more before he too, let out a deep throated groan. She felt his release deep within her; great convulsions send his seed forth. He took a broken breath and he screwed his eyes shut. She drew a breath of her own and realised she'd been holding it.

Molly lay back on the sheets as James came to rest beside her. She missed his invasion already but snuggled up against his chest. He smoothed her hair away from her face and held her gently. "God's that was... No-one's ever done that to me before," she whispered.

"Come now Molly, we both know you're no innocent," he said.

"No, but... Never mind," she said with a yawn. He yawned too nuzzling into her hair. She nodded and let her eyes drift close. It was the softest bed she'd ever been in, the thought occurred to her as she began to drift into a blissful sleep.



The Pirate and The Thief Ch. 07



Thank you all for your positive comments and encouragement. Writing something this length is new to me and I am pleased you are all enjoying it. I will say that it may slow down with the updates for the moment as I am back at work. I won't abandon the story, it'll just be a bit slower. Thanks again. 

*

When Molly awoke the next morning, her head was throbbing, she opened her eyes a fraction and it took her a moment to remember where she was. A faint snore and a contented mumble beside her reminded her of last night's follies. James rolled over and reached for her, pulling her against him, she snuggled into the warmth and her eyes drifted shut again. The covers underneath her were the softest she'd ever slept on and she wanted to savour it for another moment.

"Molly?" he whispered. His voice was questioning, unsure. She murmured a response and he sighed. He rolled away and she heard him run his hands over his face, probably pushing masses of black curls out the way. Molly propped herself up on the pillows and looked down at James, he seemed so vulnerable somehow.

"Good morning," she said.

"Is it?"

"What?"

"Is it a good morning?" he rested a hand on his forehead and shut his pale blue eyes once more, "I didn't think I drank that much," he muttered.

"The food and the company were lovely," Molly said.

"Just those things?" he said. Blood flushed to her cheeks.

"Well..." He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood and stretched the muscles in his back, cat-like in their movements. She watched him dress and as he pulled a clean shirt over his head, she remembered the state her own was in. "You owe me one of those," she said.

"Yes," he said. He pulled one out of his clothes chest and threw it to her. Molly rose from the bed and dressed herself. James poured himself a mug of water from a nearby barrel and handed one to Molly. She took it and drank deeply, her mouth felt better straight away. Molly took the moment to look around the cabin. It was larger than Bess' had been on the Red Plunder but a lot more practical. There was a desk at one end with a large chest next to it. On the other side was the large bed where they'd spent the night. The door to the gallery was in the middle of the bulkhead surrounded by tiny diamond shaped windows. Sunlight flooded into the room, promising the day would be warm and fair. James sat down at the desk and kicked the chair opposite out and gestured for her to sit down. She didn't like the look on his face.

"Is there a problem?" she said. He thrust his hand through his black hair, pushing it out of his face and sighed.

"This is going to sound like shit," he said.

"Right," Molly said. She forced her hands to be still in her lap. He sat forward and leaned on the desk.

"I don't make a habit of making love to crew members. I think, well, I think last night was a mistake," he said holding her eyes. Molly lowered hers.

"I see," she said. She sat back in the chair and refused to smile. She looked across the deck, up the bulkhead, over the desk, anywhere but at him. She'd never been bothered by the men who'd used her, paid her for her services, this was different somehow. She felt, soiled. It was something she'd never felt until now. Looking across the desk she spotted the gold ship Bess had mentioned. The one she'd been sent here to steal. Her words echoed through her head unwanted, 'Just suck his cock a couple of times.' Maybe she didn't even have to do that. She glanced up at the Captain, he was awaiting her response. "Well, not much can be done if that's the way of things," she said, trying to keep her tone even, not betray anything she was feeling.

He nodded, "Thank you."

Molly remained silent; there was nothing else to say. All of a sudden, she wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else. The walls of the cabin seemed to close in and the scent of lavender became cloying and sickly. She stood, "If there is nothing else then," she said, letting the words trail off. He shook his head and Molly fled. 

Not one of the crew blinked at her as she crossed the deck. The tasks the crew had been assigned that morning were all being undertaken with as much enthusiasm as could be mustered. The deck swabbers looked particularly thrilled with their task. Molly retrieved her sail making equipment and returned to her location on the forecastle. She grabbed a piece of unhemmed canvas and set to her task with as much gusto as she could muster; which wasn't much. The sun crept up the sky and brought with it a heat too intense, what little wind there was did nothing to relieve her like usual, instead it was like a hot breath on her face and made her feel worse.

By midday her head was pounding and all she wanted to do was crawl into her hammock and hide for the rest of the day. She'd hemmed one patch and had made a good start on the next when Mahoney walked over to her, "How's it coming?" he asked. She responded by holding up the piece of cloth. "Stitches are getting a bit large there," he said pointing at one of the corners, "Don't want it coming undone in a storm now."

"I'll re-do it," she said.

"Good lass, I also brought this over for you," he said. In his extended hand was a battered tricorn, "It ain't much but it'll keep the worst of the sun off your head. Can't have you catching heatstroke now," he added.

"Thank you," she said taking the hat and jamming it down on her head. She turned her attention back to the patch and Mahoney wandered off back to the deck. Molly had to admit she felt much better with a bit of shade on her eyes. The canvass didn't seem so glaringly white and she was a touch cooler too. As she picked out the bad stitching she glanced up at the soul in the crow's nest in envy, it would be cool up there, the breeze much stronger. Molly worked well into the evening, it was only when the sun began to set and the light became difficult to stitch by that she gave up. Once she'd put everything away and eaten her share of the evening meal did she ponder what to do. She'd seen nothing of the Captain all day and she was pretty sure she didn't want to either. In fact, company was the one thing she didn't want. She declined the offer of cards from Bart with a yawn and made her way to her hammock, maybe solitude would make her feel better.

It didn't. Alone in her hammock, the only thing she could think about was the Captain and how he'd made her feel the night before, so very different to how she felt now. What a jerk, who was he to just use her and throw her away afterwards without thought of her feelings? That's what she got for allowing herself to get drunk in front of him, next time she'd decline the invitation and know better. She rolled onto her side and pulled the thin sheet over her. It was nothing like where she'd slept the night before, nor was it as warm. She sighed and closed her eyes; she could try and sleep at the very least.

Molly was woken in the middle of the night by John. She'd been in a deep sleep; it took her ages to rouse herself, "What?" she muttered as she swung out of her hammock.

"Watch change is in ten minutes," he said, "We're on watch together so you'd best get yourself awake."

"I wasn't made aware," she said, groping around for her hat.

"Aye, I know, Captain changed it yesterday evening after you'd disappeared," he said.

"I see," she said, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. It was going to be like that was it? "Maylan save me from the whims of men," she hissed as she followed John on deck.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," said John as the night breeze washed over them.

"Not you John," she said with a sigh.

"Come on then lass, up top with you," he said. She blinked a moment and followed his eyes to the crow's nest. 

"Why me?" she said with a squeak. It would be cold up there at this time of night.

"You're the newest crew member and your ten years younger than me, your eyes are going to be a damned sight better than mine," he said. She couldn't argue with that. She swung herself into the shrouds and climbed the main mast until she reached the nest. She was right; it was cold. She snuggled into the shirt the Captain had given her that morning and willed herself not to smell his lavender scent. It clung to the garment and all she could think of was his blue eyes, intense and beautiful, as he lay over her. A shiver walked down her spine and warmth settled in her belly. Maylan's breath, no one had ever made her feel that way before; shame he had to be such a jerk afterwards. Molly hoped he was suffering in the same way she was. Somehow, she doubted it.

Molly scanned the horizon as best she could; there was nothing out there except water, blackness and starlight. The wind was stronger up here and she could hear the sails billowing, as well as the orders being given from the helm. It was going to be a long six hours. Nothing happened. She spend six long hours in the cold wind and nothing happened. There was nothing to see except the slight stain of the sky just before the sun started to rise. She jumped when a fresh faced young lad came to relieve her watch. "Thanks," she muttered as she swung back into the shrouds. She yawned as she began her descent and was glad to finally be back on the deck again. Her hands were so cold she wondered whether she'd get any feeling back in them. She was about to go below when Mahoney appeared in the doorway.

"Ah! Molly, just who I wanted to find," he said, his smile was broad.

"What can I do for you?" she said, trying not to yawn again.

"I've a job for you below with a couple of the lads, the cargo's come loose on one side of the hold and they need help shifting it," he said placing his hands on his hips.

"Now?" He nodded.

"Captain said you'd be the one for the job," he added.

"I thought he might," she said, "I'll make my way there."

"Good lass," he said. She spun on her heels and made her way down the hatch and into the holds. It was as hot and damp as she knew it would be, and she was the first one there. She made a start shifting the smaller crates. By the time she was joined by two others, her eyes stung as sweat trickled down her forehead. The three of them set to the task they'd been given and the crates were all secure after three hours. This time when Molly tried to go below deck, she wasn't stopped by anyone. The call of her hammock was so loud she'd not hear anyone else anyway. She clambered into it and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.



The Pirate and The Thief Ch. 08



The next seven days passed in the same fashion, from the moment she was awake, Molly was given endless amounts of tasks to be completed. Always from the Captain and always the worst jobs, shy of the bilge pump that was. Sending her up the ratlines and into the crow's nest for short times before calling her down to be shown how the guns worked. Cleaning the vast store of weapons was another favourite job it seemed. The one she hated the most, the one that was never ending, was swabbing the deck, keeping it moist so it didn't dry completely and get ruined by the sea. It was a task that was never complete but at least she never had to do it alone. She saw nothing of the captain and neither did the rest of the crew. He chose to stay in his cabin and conduct his business there instead. The ship was run by quarter master Jack and boatswain Mahoney and the whole operation went as smooth as it could but after the first five days, his absence was beginning to be noticed. Muttering among the crew became louder, wondering where he was and what had happened. If it taught Molly one thing, it was that he was well thought of among his crew. The genuine concern for him would have been touching, if he wasn't making her do jobs no one else wanted.

Molly found that she missed Davie and life on the Red Plunder, sure Bess had been a real hard ass to work for but at least she'd spread the crap jobs round a bit. She currently sat on the fore deck stitching a patch, it was the first time in nearly a week that she'd been left to her appointed task and she was aware how lax she'd been in her duty. She worked at the patch, nodding at the various pirates who gave her a wave or a nod. She'd got to know most of the forty crew members over the last week which was the one bonus and she'd found her place among them. John and Bart remained her firm friends but the others were now more accepting. She was invited to the informal games of cards while not on duty and the other day, one of the young lads, Kiff, had asked for her help with splicing one of the cuntlines. Something she was not great at but they worked together until Mahoney was happy and she felt a great sense of achievement with her new friend.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a shout from the nest, "Ship ahoy!" She looked up, her needle frozen halfway through the stitch she'd been making. All activity on deck ceased. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the next words of the lookout. "Nebatian colours."

Mahoney sprinted across the deck, without more information, everyone would be on standby until they were sure. It was the first set of sails they'd seen since departing and as everyone resumed their tasks, there was only one question on their mouths, what would happen next? The murmur of working pirates returned and Molly tried to focus on stitching once more. Another hush descended on deck when the Captain strode from his cabin, a brass spyglass in his hand. He strode to the poop deck with Mahoney and Jack. Molly couldn't keep a smile from her face as she watched his long legs leap the stairs two at a time. Her breath caught as she remembered how he looked without the loose pants on -- something she'd dwelled on over the past few days despite herself. The wind snapped and pulled at his black locks; they spoke in hushed hurried tones before he scanned the horizon, first with, then without the spyglass. She watched them discuss something of urgency before the Captain shook his head. Jack threw up his hands before turning his back on the other two and striding off. Molly watched the quarter master thunder back to the deck, his face an ugly red.

"How good are you at fighting?" John said from behind her. Molly jumped. "Sorry lass."

"Maylan's breath, don't sneak up on my like that," she said, "To answer your question, I can handle myself well enough."

"Good, chances are you may need to in the few hours," he said. Molly nodded. She had a small knife thrust in her boot but the rest of her gear had been stashed with the rest of the weapons. There were in the hold safely out the way where they could be reached when they were needed, not to settle petty arguments should they arise on board.

Molly glanced along the deck and to the horizon, there it was, unmistakeable, a flutter of white in the distance. It wouldn't remain distant for long. The Captain took the helm, dismissing Jones who had been doing a fine job, "Arm yourselves!" he bellowed. Everyone dropped what they were doing, stowed what they were working on in the correct place and swarmed below deck. Molly took her sail cloth and stashed it below deck in a large locker. Jack and Mahoney had unlocked the weapons chests and everyone was arming themselves.

When Molly had her own sword and a boarding axe, she made her way back on deck. Pirates had already returned to the spars and shrouds, still more clung to the ratlines, awaiting the Captain's call. She would be on the boarding party should it get that far, John was at her side, an ugly sneer on his face. She'd never captured or fought another ship before so staying with him would probably be wise. Her palms became sweaty at the thought and she wiped them on her thighs. "Furl the top gallants, all masts!" the Captain shouted. His orders were carried out and he turned the helm to the starboard, "The topsail too. We want these dogs to catch up." The look on his face was one of glee, she could hear his sinister chuckle from where she was at the rails, so much different than the other night. She shivered.

Molly could do nothing but watch as the pirates carried out the orders. In less than a minute, the Sea Witch had slowed as most of the sail was taken in. Thirty minutes later, the Nebatian vessel could be made out with the naked eye without a problem. Another thirty and they were just off the starboard stern. Molly could make out the crew of the ship going about their work, much like she had been doing not an hour ago. She swallowed a pang of guilt before it could rise and distract her. "Run out the guns! Master Jack, you may do as you see fit," the Captain shouted. Jack nodded. He stood on the hatch ladder and gave the order.

The eruption of cannon fire tore through the air. The bone-rattling pound thundered through Molly and she gripped the rail. The deep boom was felt through the deck more than heard. The crack of wood and splintering of beams ripped from the other ship. The screams of surprised sailors echoed from the other ship; the air became thick with smoke as the Sea Witch issued another broadside into the hull of the Nebatian trader. Although they'd been caught by surprise, they were quick to answer. The Sea Witch shook with the impact of their response and Molly growled. John placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a squeeze. The next battery tore through the mainmast of the Nebatian. It shuddered, creaked and after a long held breath, crashed into the mizzen, bringing the ship to a near stop.

"Mahoney, get over to that ship!" Captain shouted. Mahoney nodded and mounted the rail. He, and a team of pirates, which included Bart, swung grappling hooks on ropes at the other vessel. The ends of rope were secured to cleats located on the deck alongside the rails. The hooks lodged onto the rail of the nearby ship, connecting the Sea Witch to it like multiple umbilical cords.

"This is us," John said. He handed her a boarding rope. Molly took it and placed her right foot on the rail. She held the rope in a knuckle white grip and waited. Her heart pounded heavy in her ears and she held her breath, waiting. An eternity passed in a few seconds and Mahoney swung over to the Nebatian ship. "Go!" John said drawing his cutlass, Molly did too. He screamed as though Tyr was coming to swallow him whole as he crashed on board the other ship. Molly followed and found she too was screaming. She landed with a thud and held her weapon out in front of her. The air was full of smoke; one of the cannon balls had torn through the deck and giant splinters stuck up in all directions like spikes. The deck was awash with blood, the cries and screams of the dying permeated the air.

"Come on lass," she spun round and saw Bart grinning down at her, "We've to fend off these slavers while Mahoney finds the captain!"

Slavers! Of course, this was a slave vessel, transporting members of the Swari tribes back for a life of misery and pain in Nebatia! She followed Bart across the deck, the sound of steel scraping on steel set her teeth on edge. A swarthy Nebatian stepped in front of her and she no longer had the time to think about it. He was dressed in the light loose linen trousers of his people. His hair was wrapped in a brightly coloured scarf; scraggly growth covered his face and he leered at her as though she was a piece of meat to be eaten. She brought her sword up just in time to prevent him taking her head off. She stepped backwards to give herself some more room and waited for his next attack. He followed her and pressed his advantage. Molly blocked his next blow, feeling the jolt all the way through to her shoulder socket. The same shoulder that she'd bruised when she'd fallen from the spar the other week, typical, it had only just healed too. He leered down at her, swatting away her feeble attempt to hack at him. Man, she was a useless fighter. "Come on lass!" John roared. The Nebatian looked around and Molly rushed forward, thrusting her sword in front of her as she ran. She caught him across the chest and dodged around as he looked down in surprise. Blood leaked from the massive wound; Molly was glad she'd kept the weapon sharp while on ship. She joined John, not giving the man a second thought, he wasn't the first she'd killed and he'd not be the last neither. 

The deck shuddered with the crash of cannon fire, they'd fired on the Sea Witch and Molly kept her footing as the deck was once more flooded with white smoke. She coughed and blinked tears from her eyes, the stench of blood, fire and fear permeated the deck. It was difficult to tell who was who in the smoke. She tried to keep pace with John but in the noisy confusion she lost him. Another barrage issued from the side of the ship, this time Molly lost her footing and found herself on her knees in a pool of blood, thankfully someone else's. She pushed herself to her feet only to find that another Nebatian had discovered her. A blow to her head sent her reeling back to the deck and she spat out blood, hers this time. "I have had enough of this," she snarled. Somehow, her sword had got lost so she drew her boarding axe from where she'd thrust it in her belt. She kicked her attacker's ankle and felt the bone crunch. He cried out in shock as he fell. Molly clambered to her feet, crossed the deck and brought her axe down on the Nebatian's head.

Lights flashed in front of her eyes, black spots danced and she stood still for a moment, leaning on the mast for support. The wave passed and her vision cleared. That man had slapped her with some force. Molly straightened and hefted her axe once more. She went to take a step but the world swam again. She landed on her butt on deck. Fine, here was a good a place as any. She kept her axe close by. She wasn't sure how long she sat there before she was found. "I hope you're not slacking on the job Molly," It was the Captain.

"No, I was hit in the head and my legs stopped working," she said, her words sounded distant to her. He nodded.

"Sit tight, I have something to look after, I'll be back," he said pushing black hair from his face. He left her then and she did as he ordered, stayed right where she was. She could hear the vague murmur of voices, then the crack of a pistol. The thud of something hitting the deck brought her round a bit so she struggled to her feet. Her legs seemed able to carry her this time and she staggered forward. Her head cleared somewhat and she pushed strands of hair out her eyes. Her hand came away bloody and she noticed a cut for the first time. It was still oozing. She wiped her hand on her pants and strode forward. She joined the rest of her crew on the deck. The fighting had finished. The body of a dead Nebatian was on the quarter deck and her Captain was addressing the remaining sailors. 

"Those are your choices," he said. The Nebatian's exchanged glances with each other and began muttering in their own language.

"What's going on?" she asked John when she found him among the crew.

"Standard fair, the surviving crew of this ship have the choice of joining us or death," John said.

"What about the ship?"

"It's in sound condition, Captain's going to turn it over to Jack with a handful of mates," he said.

"I see," Molly said with a nod. There was some more discussion between the Nebatian's before they agreed to the terms, "What happens now?" John motioned for her to listen.

"Jack, I leave you with Bart and half the boarding party," the Captain took a long look over the Nebatian sailors before dividing them into two groups. "You will join my crew," he pointed at the group on the left, "You shall remain with Jack." He said. Molly found herself unable to keep from admiring him. Everything about him told the crew who was in charge. She hated that he was as attractive as he was, seeing how he was such a jerk it didn't seem fair. "Volunteers to stay on board, stand over to the starboard side of the deck. Those who wish to accompany me back to the Sea Witch to the port," his words broke her thoughts and she looked around. What would she do? Go or stay? It seemed like a tough choice. Half her friends would join the new crew and yet, half would stay. It would be her chance to get away from the Captain and his endless supply of crap jobs but then again...



The Pirate and The Thief Ch. 09



There was never a question of choice; she joined the group on the port side of the ship. John followed her with a smile of approval. There was more than enough willing to remain with Jack and Bart, in a little under an hour, Molly was back aboard the Sea Witch and involved with the clean-up. She'd changed her blood soaked shirt before she'd started work on the deck. They'd taken a fair bit of damage from the cannon of the now named Redemption but it all seemed to be surface scratches. Matthew, the ships carpenter, had set to fixing the damage and was organising some of the pirates to help him. Molly was scrubbing the main deck with a stiff brush, clearing the debris and sending it into the sea. The newest crew members had been directed to the bilge pumps, as was the custom for those captured. They'd have to prove themselves before they were trusted around the rest of the ship. Mahoney had remained the Boatswain and John promoted to the new quarter master, resuming the role he had before he'd taken a break from pirating. 

"I thought I told you to stay where you were," the Captain said. She'd not heard him approach and she jumped.

"Captain!" 

"Yes," he said. He leaned against the railing, stretching his long legs in front of him, "You should get Sasha to look at that," he said pointing at her forehead. She touched it with her fingertips and found it had scabbed over.

"It's nothing," she shrugged.

"You were nearly knocked out and you're favouring your left arm. I know too well that you're right handed," he said. She looked up and saw the concern in his eyes. She sighed.

"Don't do this," she said.

"Do what? Enquire how you are after a fight?"

"No, that's not what I meant," she said propping her brush up and leaning on it, "I mean, well..." she let the words trail off when she saw the amused expression on his face. His eyes were smiling at her and at that moment, she hated him. "You put me through hell this past week. I've been given the latest watches and the earliest chores all on your order. You've singled me out and then ignored me and I've hardly slept. I'm tired, sore and annoyed. The last thing I need it you coming over here and irritating me in that way you have about you." She said. She picked up her broom again and resumed sweeping, ignoring his very being.

"So why did you stay?" 

"How can you even ask me that?" she said continuing to sweep the already clear deck.

"Maybe I should be more of a bastard then," he said. Molly grunted and scrapped the last of the bits over the side. It brought her within touching distance of the Captain and she caught his lavender scent on the breeze. She shuddered despite herself. Warmth gathered in the bottom of her belly and she took a step back, out of reach. She didn't trust herself. She put a hand to her forehead and stopped a moment. The deck swam a little and she reached out for the rail. "Hey now," the Captain was at her side, gripping her elbow.

"Maybe that bump was a bit harder than I thought," she muttered. The deck did a three sixty turn and before it settled, she'd been scooped up into the Captain's strong arms, "What're you doing?" she whispered so quietly she hardly heard it herself. He carried her across the ship and into his cabin. He laid her on the bed as though she was made of porcelain before leaving. She frowned and closed her eyes; a deep throb pulsed in the centre of her head. She just about heard Sasha when she entered the room. Cool briny water hit her forehead and she screwed her eyes shut.

"She's just had a nasty head blow, rest is what she needs, give her a day and she'll be back to whatever task you throw at her," Sasha said. Her voice was scolding and she heard James agree before dismissing her.

"Here that Moll? You're to stay here until tomorrow," he said. He pulled one of his chairs over to the side of the bed and plonked himself in it.

"Captain-"

"James."

"Fine, James. I'll go down to my hammock," she said trying to sit. He pushed her backwards into the blankets with a gentle hand.

"I'm feeling a little guilty for working you so hard. Indulge me, stay where you are," he said. His deep voice was soothing and her eyes closed. Despite the swimminess of her vision and the pain in her head, she wanted him lying next to her, not sat in the chair opposite. How could she be so shallow? After everything he'd done to her over the past week. Could she forget a weeks' worth of slogging and lack of sleep over one act of kindness? One that was borne out of guilt at what he'd done. He should feel guilty. He yawned and she stole a look at him through a barely opened eye. He wasn't looking at her at all but gazed down at a large tome which he held in his long hands. His left leg was propped on his right knee and he was reading. Whatever it was must be engrossing because he managed to ignore the black strands that fell over his face. And what a handsome face it was too.

Molly forced her eyes shut, looking and pining over him wasn't going to help anyone, especially the gathering warmth in her crotch. Every beat of her heart she felt with growing intensity. She'd not felt like this for a long long time and she let out a breath through her nose. It sounded like an odd sigh and she heard James move to look at her, "Are you going to sit there and watch me sleep?" she muttered.

"Do you object?"

"What if I do?" He laughed at her response, "I thought as much."

"No Molly, I'll sit here for as long as I can bare being near you, then I shall go and see how the repairs to my ship are coming along. After I shall try and find some other form of distraction until you are well enough to take yourself away to your own space. Then I shall return and see to the other tasks I need to complete before sleeping," he said. As long as he could bear her? Was she that bad? She rolled onto her side and faced away from where he sat. She shut her eyes and blocked out any thought she had of him, he was a jerk anyway. She reminded herself that she was done with men before she drifted off.

When Molly awoke, the cabin was dark save for a small glowing lantern in the corner. She was alone. She sat up, noticing that a blanket had been thrown over her. She didn't get it, how could James go from being so kind to so cruel in the space of minutes? She stretched and climbed out of bed, feeling more awake than she had for days. She knew she should leave. It wasn't her room and James was a jerk. The whole room carried his scent and she revelled in it despite telling herself not to. She crossed the room to his desk and sat in the large chair. It was comfortable and moulded just to his shape. On the desk was the large book he'd been reading earlier. She wasn't very good at letters but the title was a famous one by author Winston Charles. It was Harmony; Molly didn't know the story very well; something about a young maid finding her feet in the world.

Then she spotted the gold model ship Bess had told her about. It was the size of her fist and heavy as sin when she picked it up. The soft light glinted off the edges of the gold sails and the delicate rigging. She turned it over in her hand, examining every detail of the figurine. It was exquisite and Molly knew why Bess would want such an item. She turned it over once more and noticed the inscription on the bottom for the first time. It read Sea Witch. Bess had lied to her about that too then. It wasn't hers and never was. Molly placed it back on the desk and got up. She should go back on deck and find some work to do, she'd not be accused of shirking but then again, she's done her fair share of work over the last week. It wasn't her cabin though and she should be gone. 

She looked around once more and noticed a shelf she'd missed the first time she came into the room. She had been rather drunk and distracted after all. She walked over to it and opened the latch. The doors on the shelves swung open and she examined the range of books and trinkets there. The books were a range of titles, most of which she'd never heard of. Molly couldn't help wonder if the volume where his name had come from was there. She skimmed over the titles and turned her attention to the trinkets. They all shone in the light; there must be over one hundred of the little things on the shelf, little animals made of gold, bronze pots, silver boxes, miniature copper pots, brass etchings. Molly dare not guess at the value of such a collection. Bess' words echoed in her mind but Molly couldn't bring herself to take anything, they were so pretty, they belonged together and that's where they'd remain. She was a lousy a thief as she was a fighter. Be that as it may, she shut the shelves once more and latched the doors closed.

Molly was about to make her exit when she heard footsteps approaching. Her heart pounded for a moment and she glanced around. Without knowing why, she jumped into the large armoire and pulled the door shut. She was still wondering why the hell she'd done so when James walked in. She watched through the small crack in the doors as he crossed the room and sat on the bed. She had no idea what time it was but she guessed it was late. He shrugged off his heavy frock jacket and tugged off his boots. He leaned back on the bed and let out a large sigh. Molly watched as he grabbed the blanket she'd been lying under, he curled it round his hands before bringing it up to his nose and inhaling deeply. Was he breathing in her scent as she'd been breathing in his? He threw the blanket to the floor and sat up. He crossed the room and sat in the chair behind his desk. Molly couldn't make out what he was doing but it was probably reading the book.

Molly tried to shift her weight in the cupboard without making a sound; her foot was beginning to cramp. She held her breath and moved slowly, not wishing to be discovered hiding, it would lead to questions that she didn't have the answers to. James stood and walked the length of the cabin, first one way, then the other and back again. Sometimes he ran a hand through his hair, others with his hands folded over his chest. He stopped once to pick the blanket from the floor, folded it and placed it at the end of the bed. James slammed a fist down on the bedpost and swore, "Name of the Twelve James Hook, she's just a girl, snap out of it."

So he was smelling the blanket! Good. He'd been as annoyed as she was. But then, if he did feel some attraction for her, why had he so carelessly tossed her aside after that one night of wonderfulness? A night she was eager to repeat. She turned her attention back to the keyed up captain. He'd thrown himself back onto the bed and ripped his shirt over his head. It now lay discarded on the cabin floor like a piece of crumpled sail. She watched as he unbuttoned his black trousers and slid them down over his narrow hips. There was something unbelievably desirable about the way his long legs emerged and kicked the unwanted fabric onto the floor. When she turned her eyes back to James, her breath stuck in her throat. She allowed her eyes to roam over his mostly naked body, take in its contours in a way she hadn't appreciated the other night. Molly wanted nothing more than to run her hands over his broad chest and slip a hand down the front of his linen smallclothes. Her eyes paused there for a long moment, unable to stop ogling the already substantial bulge. The fabric strained some more as James ran his flat palm over his chest.

A deep throb pulsed in the deep place between Molly's legs and she began to melt. The slippery sensation delighted her and she looked on to see what James would do next. She chewed a fingernail as he pushed the remaining cloth from his body and onto the floor. His cock sprang free, Molly let out a breath, keeping it slow and steady so he wouldn't hear her. His large fingers splayed out over his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze. His leg furthest from her was hitched up, giving her a perfect view of what he was doing to himself. He seemed to idly roll his balls around in the palm of his hand, not bothered about the pleasure he was denying himself. He spat into his other hand before wrapping it around his long shaft. He gave a couple of lazy tugs before glancing around the room. His eyes passed the closet, pausing for the briefest moment. Did he know? Molly couldn't focus on that thought; all she could see was his hand pumping the shaft of his engorged cock. The purple head looked slick already and she so wanted to climb out the cupboard and wrap her lips around it. James pushed his head back into the pillow and bucked his hips with a groan. Molly's eyes were fixed on the head of his shaft and the bead of moisture that gathered there. She had to concentrate on her breathing so as not to get caught but it was getting more and more difficult. She'd never wanted anyone as much as she wanted him now.

James' thrusts became more irregular, Molly knew what was coming next and she wasn't disappointed. A jet of thick white cream erupted from his cock; he gripped the root of his cock in a firm hand and the first pulse was followed by another, and another. After a moment, he let out a sigh through his nose and turned his head to face the cupboard, "You can come out now," he said.

Molly did as she was told, "How did you...?"

"I've known since I got in here, no one saw you leave." Molly flushed a brilliant red. "Come over here girl." She followed his instructions and came to stand at the middle of the bed, near his arm. "Did you enjoy that?" he asked. She nodded. He sat up then and thrust a hand down the front of her pants. He pressed a long finger against her sodden pussy, "Gods you did didn't you." Molly let out a heavy breath as he pushed his fingertip against her clit. He slid a finger inside her for a moment before languidly pulling his hand away. Molly pouted. "Oh no, you've had the pleasure of watching me, I think you owe me the same, don't you?"

"What?" she said, finding her voice.

"Oh, you heard me. I want you to remove every last item of clothing you're wearing and then touch yourself. I need a bit of rekindling and that should do nicely." Molly glanced down at his cock. If he thought that needed work... She swallowed. The grin he wore was wolfish and he looked her up and down. She gave a little shrug then painted a smile on her own face. She pulled her pants down over her hips and kicked them off with her boots too; leaving her wearing the large shirt he had given her. Crossing the floor to the chair, she sat herself down and propped her legs on the edge of the bed. She parted them and smiled inwardly as James adjusted his position.

This was like something she'd done for those clients who had a mind for more than just a fucking. She ran her hand down her thigh and relished the jump in her pussy, a slight tensing in the anticipation of the pleasure to come. Her hand worked up to the apex of her thigh and parted the slick folds. A gasp stuck in her throat as she pressed the tip of her finger against her already wet swollen clit. Sparks jumped through her and she let her head fall back against the high back. Heated shackles entwined her ankles as she pressed harder on her soft nub. The fabric of her shirt grazed against her protruding nipples and she longed to have James' teeth on them instead. Nibbling and tugging at the tender flesh as she pushed against her slick core. Her thoughts turned to what he could be doing with that cock of his at the same time and she moaned a little. "That good huh?"

"Uh-Hu," she said.

"Tell me your thoughts, what makes it so good?"

"You do. At this moment, I am thinking on what you could be doing instead of what you are doing," she said, letting her breath make her words heavy. She couldn't have kept the desire out of her voice if she wanted to. The thought of his touch on her again was almost enough to send her over the edge.

"Oh, and what am I doing?" he asked. The sound of skin grazing on skin echoed through the cabin. Molly shuddered as her rough hand scrapped over her sensitive clit. The vision of him exploded into her mind as she increased the pressure and a gasp escaped her. His hand encircled her wrist and pulled it away from her slick centre. She'd not even heard him move. Pulling her upright, his mouth found hers; his tongue lashed into her mouth and beat furiously against hers. His taste flooded her, his soft hair fell across her face. Thrusting her hands through the black locks, she drove her own tongue deep into his mouth, forcing him closer to her. Hands gripped her backside and hoisted her up, she wrapped her legs around James' waist and he strode across the room with her. With one sweep of his hand, he cleared the table. There was the crash of something heavy hitting the deck but she hardly noticed. The wood of the table scrapped against her lower back for a moment, then he was inside her, filling her so deeply she let out a cry.

Unable to stop he thrust into her, Molly grunted as she became accustomed to his invasion. As he bucked his hips, she lifted her own with every rise. The slap of his thigh against her ass sent a shiver through Molly, "God's," she muttered as he thumbed one of her nipples. Her hands raked down his strong back and he groaned into her mouth. A hand curled under her back, Molly arched it and the angle of his long strokes sent ripples of fire through her core. She broke contact with his mouth and gulped down a swallow of air. The dizzying sensation made her head lurch. His hair tickled her neck as he nuzzled into her shoulder. A guttural moan erupted from Molly's mouth; his deep thrusts sent hot sheets through her. She surrendered into the heat. Warmth flowed from her legs and up into her chest. Crushing weight clamped her chest; the only release was to let notes flow from her mouth. His breath was hot on her cheek and she no longer cared about the damage being done. She was going to be bruised where his hand clamped her wrist, where he was driving her into the table. Her fingers entwined in his silky hair, gripping it at the nape of his neck; she pulled it and sank her teeth into his shoulder. Biting down as his thrusting took on a wild tempo. Her hips met his every crash. It was warm, too warm, smooth, like lying in the sea. He moaned and her eyes rolled back. The world went white for a moment, an eternity. She gripped his cock with her slick cunt and felt the first pulses deep inside her core. His cry drifted past her as though it was far away and lights burst in front of her eyes. Her breath came in rapid pants and the wave of her orgasm claimed her. In that moment, she knew he was his. Slick sheets of moisture cascaded over his shaft and as she rode the wave that cascaded over her she forced jets of come out of him. 

The second wave of her orgasm brought waves of red silk over her. She bit her lip, bruising the tender kiss ravaged flesh, "Oh God's," she cried. Her fingers gripped the edge of the table and she felt as though she was drowning in the great ocean beneath them. She convulsed, her back arched and finally she stilled. James looked down into her eyes and she gave a weak smile. Molly noticed for the first time that he was breathing as hard as she was. He ran a thumb along her jawline and gave her lips a gentle kiss. He picked her up and carried her off the table and over to his large bed. The soft blankets met her naked form -- somewhere along the way she'd lost her shirt, it now lay on the floor along with the rest of her discarded clothing -- and she relaxed. James lay next to her and idly ran a finger along her side.

"Does this mean you're going to be a bastard all over again?" she asked snuggling into his warmth.

"Hmm?" 

"Last time this happened, I spent the week doing the crappest job you could think of and I didn't even get to see you," she said.

"No, not this time," he said smoothing her hair down. He kissed her neck and held her close.




The Pirate and The Thief Ch. 09



"Good," she said. She lay beside him for a long while in comfortable silence, listening to his regular even breathing. Eventually she disentangled herself from his arms and dressed herself. She'd had all the sleep she needed for the time being. She placed a kiss on his sleeping forehead and left the cabin. There were still chores for her to do.



The Pirate and The Thief Ch. 10



Updates will be slower for the time being due to being back at work and moving house. Keep checking back however as chapters are being worked on. Thanks for all your helpful comments, all gratefully received!




"Sail ho!" The cry came from the foremast lookout. His cry produced a hive of activity on deck. James produced a scope from his coat pocket and scanned the horizon in the direction the lookout was pointing. A hurried conversation was whispered between him and John and by the look on his face, it was no good thing. Molly squinted into the distance but couldn't make anything out yet, it was a mere blur to her. She put aside the sail patch she'd been working on and stood up. She stretched her back and shoulders before crossing the deck and mounting the quarter-deck. 

"Nothing to worry about," James said handing her the spyglass. She put it to her eye and scanned the horizon once more. She recognised the ship instantly.

"That's the Red Plunder you know," she said. He nodded.

"Indeed it is, I wonder what the bitch wants," he said. A cold shiver passed up Molly's spine at the thought of seeing Bess again. She'd want to know what she'd been doing these past few weeks that didn't involve fucking her ex-husband. She glanced at James but his face betrayed no emotion. As he began barking orders to the pirates in the shrouds, she wrapped her arms around her body and rubbed her arms, willing some warmth back into them. God's this was not what she wanted. John came to rest by her side and gave her a wan smile. His gaze turned to the ship on the horizon and his countenance turned grim.

"This bodes ill for all of us," he muttered.

"More than you know," she said with a grim nod, "Can't we just fire on them?"

"Captain wouldn't do such a thing, even after what she did, he'd not bring harm to one of our own," John said.

"I know, would be a good way out of it though eh," Molly said with a small smile. John nodded before turning his attention back to the running of the ship. James walked over to her and gave a nod. How she wanted to run her tongue over the swell of his throat at that moment. Instead, she contented herself with looking up into his blue eyes and smiling. "Are you ok?"

"Yes. If it comes to a fight, we can take her, we have more guns than she, are bigger and the crew more orderly. Bess knows this as well as I do." James said running his hand along the wood at the taffrail.

Molly let her arms fall to her sides and looked across the water, "Will it come to that?"

"I doubt it, we'd sink her in a heartbeat. Don't worry about Bess, I'll handle her, you don't have to see her if you don't want to," he said. He stayed a good distance from her, like he always did when they were in the presence of the other crew members. It wasn't anything they'd agreed verbally, it didn't seem right hanging on each other in front of the rest of the crew. "She won't catch up for a good few hours yet though so go and do some work," he said.

"I'll be alright. She'll expect me to be here so here I'll stay. This is my home now and she won't frighten me away," Molly said. James gave her a nod before she turned and left the quarter deck. Crossing the deck, she returned to the forecastle and resumed her sail stitching. The sun rose and fell from the zenith and still the Red Plunder hadn't pulled alongside. She'd gained but she was making slow progress, strange considering they'd put in for cleaning shortly after they'd left port. Unless that was where they were going now. Of course Molly was no navigator though so she didn't know if they were even in the right part of the sea for that.

Bess' words drifted through her mind as she stitched the latest patch. Rage flooded through Molly as the callous remarks flooded back to her. Who did she think she was anyway? What right did Bess have to order her around? Was she not in charge of her own life? She had chosen to join Bess' crew when she's first arrived in Nass and she'd chosen when to leave. Bess had no hold over her and that was final. She should tell James about the last conversation she'd had with her but what if he didn't listen. What if he believed her capable of such deceit? He'd send her back to the Red Plunder and away from the good companions she'd found. She'd rather be thrown in the sea. If she was forced to go back to Bess' ship, her life would be miserable again. Granted not as bad as in Karana but bad enough. Molly realised she'd grown to enjoy life on the Sea Witch and that wasn't something she wanted to lose. How could she risk telling James anything if that was at stake? She'd also grown to enjoy his company over the last week and she didn't want to go back to sleeping in a crowded bunkroom full of smelly snoring pirates either. She swallowed her indignation and resolved to keep her mouth shut.

As the Red Plunder grew on the horizon, Molly noticed that she had taken a pounding recently. There were scorch marks along her hull and a few hastily made patches along her frame. Black soot scarred her wood and splintered holes could be seen on her railings. Her sails had been patched in a hurry and in some places, hadn't been repaired at all. It was no wonder she'd made such slow progress towards them. Even with most of the Sea Witch's sails reefed, it had still taken well into six hours for them to draw alongside. Molly had put away her sail patches and finished for the day. She was supposed to be having dinner with James that evening, just the two of them, that would not be the case now. If the initial talks were amicable, Bess would be joining them, along with Davey, John and Mahoney. That was if she was still invited of course, she'd not know what to say amongst such company.

Below deck, there was a hive of activity as the night watch readied themselves for their shift. Molly allowed the busy pirates to get on deck before she took herself below. Her hammock was exactly where she'd left it. Clambering in, she settled herself down and pulled the blanket over herself. She didn't feel particularly tired but once the gentle pitch and roll of the ship began to sway her, she found her eyes growing heavy. The comfortable warm place between sleep and awareness she found was disrupted by clumping footfalls approaching her. "Molly!" She started awake.

"Maylan's Breath!" she cried, "What's wrong?" She sat up and looked into the started eyes of Stef, one of the deckhands.

"I didn't mean to startle you, nothing's wrong. Captain's asking for you." He said.

"Tell him I'll join him in a moment," Molly nodded. The young lad ran off, giving Molly a moment to smooth her hair and pull her clothing straight. She made her way back on deck and found the sun had set while she'd been dozing. Had it been that long? Her thoughts were cut off when she saw James waiting for her at the entrance across the deck. "Sorry," she said, "I didn't know if you'd still want me here seeing as..." she let her words trail off, waving her hand instead.

"No, God's, this is going to be tough enough, I need you there to stop be doing anything I regret," he said. 

"I don't know how I can do that," Molly said.

"Just be there," he said. He gave her a smile that made her knees disappear and she nodded weakly. "You'll be fine; she'll dare not insult you when I'm there."

"I hope you're right," Molly said. She followed James back into the cabin that served as a dining room when the need arose. Everyone was already sitting around the table, Davey was next to John and they were engaged in conversation already. Mahoney sat looking at something fascinating on the woodwork which left Bess, who looked up at her with her soft eyes and smiled. It wasn't a welcoming sort of smile, not given in friendship. It was the look of someone who had something to say and was going to enjoy the misery it brought. Molly swallowed hard and nodded back before wiping her warm hands on her loose pants. A seat was pulled out for her and she sat down. James sat next to her and she took a breath. God's Bess was beautiful. She'd forgotten how stunning she was for all her bad temper and ill tongue. Her blond hair spilled over her shoulders and her skin was somehow still pale and free from blemish. Bess picked up her wineglass with a grace Molly could only dream of and drank effortlessly. Her arms were smooth, long and without a hint of excess flesh or bulky muscle either. Molly felt plain in comparison; drab and shrewish. She was no beauty and being sat near one only made her feel small.

"Molly! How are you? You look well?" God's even her voice was that of an angel compared to her own. 

"I'm fine thank you," Molly said, doing her best to smile. The one on Bess' face was a hollow imitation of one that much was clear.

"Let's get this done, why are you here?" James asked his voice brought no warmth to the gathering. Molly suppressed a shudder.

"No need to be rude Hook," Bess said, "I don't want to be here either, still, needs must and here we are. We were attacked by slavers two days ago and in desperate need of repair."

"Don't you have a carpenter?"

"Had, his chest was caved in by a stray cannonball," Bess replied.

"That'll happen in a sea battle," Mahoney said. Bess shot him a withering look, which he ignored. The door to the cabin banged open making Molly jump, in stepped Stef carrying a large silver platter on his shoulder. He placed it carefully on the table before backing out the door. James lifted the lid from the tray and a wave of steam escaped into the air, filling it with the delightful smell of roast salt pork and gravy. The smell made Molly's mouth water; it was a real treat instead of the ship's biscuit they'd been munching on these past few days. 

"We're a little short on supplies at present," James said as he began cutting the meat. There was a general murmur of agreement and a wave of dismissal from the guests. Someone's stomach made a groan as the food was handed out. There was a side plate of hard tack and Molly took a couple and placed them in the gravy. The room remained quiet as the company ate; all that could be heard was the scritch of cutlery on plate and the contented munching of people's jaws. 

"Short rations or no, that was a lovely meal." Davey said.

James nodded, "Aye," he put aside his cutlery and leaned forward, focusing all his attention on his ex-wife. "You'll be wanting the aid of Matthew then?"

"Yes."

"And what do you have for me in return? You didn't think I'd give you aid just because you asked for it?"

"There, and I thought you'd changed," Bess snorted. She leaned back in her chair and stretched her long legs underneath the table.

"Don't kid yourself," James replied, "What have you got that could possibly interest me into helping you?" His tone had changed just a slight bit, the words sounded like a threat now rather than an offer for help. Bess looked up at Molly and gave another one of her wicked smiles.

"Information."

"Oh?" Mahoney looked at Molly with a curious gaze and she swallowed hard. She didn't like where this was going.

"I've got some information on some traders, apparently they're transporting a new weapon in a few days, one that could change the powers in these waters, if you get my meaning," she said. James pushed his hair back from his head and shrugged.

"Nebatian's have been saying that for years."

"This is from the Swari," she replied. James sat up. The Swari were the nation opposed to the Nebatian rule of the waves. They'd been the target of slavers for centuries and had only recently begun to fight back in an organised way. Their ships were among the best being built but the Nebatian numbers were vastly superior. It was going to be a long while before a major dent could be made in the Nebatian supremacy on the seas. If they'd invented a new weapon it could change everything, although Molly doubted whether Bess was capable in telling the whole truth. She'd do anything to get what she wanted, including lie.

"And what proof do you have?" John asked.

"Still such a disbeliever?" Bess said turning to face the quartermaster. "I stole papers from a Nebatian just before we left Nass."

"And how do we know they're genuine?" Mahoney said.

"He was from House Wolf, his papers are signed and were sealed, of course, that is now broken. They're dated a month ago," Bess said. "You can have them when my ship is repaired."

James nodded and appeared to be considering her words. He folded his arms across his chest and sat back. "You're words are interesting but I need some time to consider your offer. Return to your ship and I will discuss it with my crew," he said.

"Very well," Bess said rising to her feet, she clearly knew a dismissal when she heard one. Davey followed her and Mahoney showed her out the cabin. Stef entered and cleared away the dirty plates, leaving the table clear. A few moments later Mahoney returned and the look on his face was as grim as those that had remained inside.

James pushed back from the table and poured four glasses of brandy. He kept a bottle in the drawer in his desk. It seemed a good moment to break it out. He passed the glasses round before flopping back into his chair. He let out a deep sigh before looking at each of them in turn. "Thoughts?"

"She's lying," John said.

"I don't think so." Molly said.

"No?"

"No, she's not telling everything but she has too much to lose by deceiving us."

"Molly's right. Bess has a habit of fussing her hair when she's lying; tonight she was as calm as ever. She needs us more than we need her, she'll know that, so she's got to offer us something. Thing is, what is she hiding?" James asked. He pushed his hair back once more.

"We should leave her foundering," Mahoney said, "She ain't nothing but trouble and we want no part in that."

"But this weapon could make us a lot of money," John said, "We're for the Swari, always have been and if they need a hand protecting what's theirs we should be do it. They'll be grateful, besides, if this Wolf has papers, he won't be the only one. Could be the Swari already know about it."

"It could be Aurelio in need of assistance and we owe him." Mahoney said with a nod.

"But it means helping the bitch and that's the stickler." James said. He took a long pull of the brandy and stifled a yawn. Molly picked up her glass and swirled the dark liquid around in her glass before taking a sip herself. The hot liquid coursed down her throat and settled into her stomach. Gathering warmth spread through her body and she felt her limbs grow heavy. She too yawned and realised how tired she was. "Gentlemen, I will make the call in the morning. Alert Matthew and have him make ready just in case." Mahoney and John nodded and rose from their tables and left them alone. Molly yawned again.

"I hope the evening wasn't too boring for you," James said.

"Not at all," Molly replied getting to her feet. She was shattered and knew she should retire to the comfort of her hammock. To stay in the cabin was to get no sleep at all. James looked into her face and smiled.

"I've tired you out these past nights?" He crossed the floor and ran a rough finger along her cheek. Molly didn't stop him, "I'll let you go for the one night, if you promise not to deprive me of your warmth for too long," he said. His voice was little more than a whisper and the gathering glow almost made her change her mind. When he leaned over and placed his lips on her cheek, the kiss was chaste, brotherly, although there was nothing brotherly about the look in his eyes.

"I promise," she said, "Now let me go before you change your mind."

"Very well," he sounded disappointed but there was no way she could manage anything more than staggering to her hammock. She got to her feet and placed her glass on the table. 

"Thanks for letting me be here," she said as she reached the door.

"No problem."

With his words, she left the cabin and made her way back to her hammock. She only just remembered climbing in and pulling the blanket over her.



The Pirate and The Thief Ch. 11



The sun was just thinking about rising when Molly awoke from her slumber. She regretted sleeping in her hammock. She'd forgotten about the snores and snorts and grunts of the other pirates. Still, she'd had a good few hours kip and felt much better. She arose, stretched and pulled on some cleaner clothing. When she arrived on deck, it was a scene of calm working. James was standing at his place on the quarterdeck, talking with John and Mahoney. A quick wave at her sent her striding to the small gathering.  

"Good morning," James said. There was no trace of smile on his face, "I trust you slept well."

"Thank you, I did."

"We've come to a decision," Mahoney said. His tone wasn't one that Molly liked but she waited silently for further information.

"We're going to aid Bess with her ship, I've sent Matthew over to look at the damage already and he says it should be done after the better part of two days. We'll find the information she has and weigh our decision from there." James said. Molly nodded slowly.

"How much will we see of her?" she asked. It sounded petty in her ears so she didn't like to think what the lads thought.

"Too much," James spat. "I'd not want to help her but the papers she's stolen could relate to a friend of ours," he said. Molly swallowed.

"Its two days, I'm sure you'll be able to cope," John said. "What could she have done?" There was a deep frown on John's face and dark sags under his usually jovial eyes.

"Time to get back to running this ship," James said, "Not you Molly, I'd like a word." He added as she turned to find her usual location on the forecastle. "Come with me." She fell in step behind James, pausing to admire his butt as they headed into his cabin. "Shut the door," he said. The door clicked into place and James let out a sigh as he sank into his chair, "This is going to sound shit," he said.

"Oh?"

"Bess cannot know about what we're doing," he said.

"God's no!" Molly said nodding.

"I thought you'd be annoyed," James said. The smile on his face told her everything.

"Bess will use any advantage she can to mess around with us," Molly flicked her eyes to the floor and took a deep breath, "There's something you should know." She said, knowing the time had come to tell him. James looked up and Molly wiped her hands on her knees. "I should have said something sooner but, well, I couldn't risk... never mind that. Bess thinks I came here under her orders. She asked me to come here, get close to you and take something she wanted. She claimed it was hers but I have doubts to that now."

"What was it?" James asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It was the gold paperweight of this ship," Molly said pointing at it on the desk. James let out a laugh that held no mirth and shook his head. "What is it?"

"Time for some answers to questions it seems." James said standing once more. "What did she tell you about me?"

"That you're a lying, cheating, thieving scoundrel who she was once married to." Molly said. James paced up and down before answering

"Her lies are no surprise. I do cheat, I do steal and I have been known as a scoundrel before. I've told my share of mistruths too but I never married that woman. I wanted to once, I almost did but she left me waiting with the priests one day. I spent the night with several bottles of wine and ended up in the nearest Cat-house. Bess found me there in the arms of a woman I'd hardly touched. I left for sea that morning and spoke not a word to her since," he said. When he stopped speaking he resumed his place in his chair. Molly looked down at her hands and sighed. 

"Why does she want that paperweight?" she asked.

"This ship was hers." James said, "I won her in a game of cards the night we met. Bess has wanted the Sea Witch back ever since that night and I've never given her the chance. This is the best ship in these waters, why she gambled her in the first place is anyone's guess. So what did she tell you?"

"I can't repeat that," Molly said. The thought brought a flush to her cheek.

"Come on now," he said, every ounce of charm in his voice, "There's nothing you can say that will surprise me."

"Don't make me."

"I am." He drummed his long elegant fingers on the table.

"She wanted me to..." why was this so awkward anyway? It wasn't as if she'd not done the act in question a thousand times before! "She wanted me to... well... she said. 'You'll have to learn as you go, just suck his cock a few times and he'll tell you everything'," Molly looked down at the desk and bumped the tips of her fingers against the fine grain of wood.

"You didn't even have to do that," James said. The laugh that followed was genuine and Molly looked up.

"You're not mad?"

"Why would I be?" he pushed his hand through his thick black hair and shrugged, "You came here by your own will and I believe our, shall we call it attraction, started before you even knew who I was. I only have one thought."

"Oh?"

"Why in Maylan's name did I tell you all that for free if you were going to suck me off to get it," he said. Molly looked outraged for the briefest of moments before a shower of giggles erupted from her.

"But I thought we we're meant to be hiding what we're doing," she said with a shrug. James shot her a black look before sliding his hand under the table. Molly's stomach fluttered as she watched his expression change. "Stop."

"Why?"

"Because if you don't I'm going to end up fucking you and someone'll hear that!" Molly said. He raised an eyebrow but not his hand, "Then this chat will have been for nothing. Bess will know."

"At the moment I am inclined to forget about that," he said, "Besides, you've no idea what I'm doing, it's your mind that made that conclusion."

Molly kicked up from her chair and leaned over the table. His hand was exactly where she thought it was; on the distorted apex of his crotch. "Oh, my mind is it?" she said looking into his grinning face.

"It's barely sunrise. Bess won't be awake for another four hours at least. Gives us more than enough time," James said. His hand left his pants and her mouth found his. Gripping her shoulders, he pulled her forward, across the table and onto his lap. His tongue thrust into her mouth, a hand caressed her breast. Not content to sit there, she shifted herself so she straddled him on the chair. Molly could feel his hard cock through the fabric of their combined pants, "Get your pants off," he whispered, his voice a hoarse growl. Molly's lips left his for a moment as she struggled out of her pants. They fell to the floor with a neglected sigh as she renewed the onslaught of his mouth. He tasted divine and his lavender scent hadn't worn on her at all. It was as delightful now as it had been that first time. She breathed him in as she ran her tongue along his throat.

Two hands cupped her buttocks and gently pulled her panties to one side. Long fingers that she'd come to appreciate delved into her wet folds and he sighed into her hair. "How's this, if you need to cry out, do it into my shoulder because I'm going to fuck you now regardless." Molly thrust her hands into his hair, pushing it back from his fine face. She looked into his twinkling blue eyes and gave a serious look. She nodded and he adjusted her position a little. His hand tugged his cock free, he pulled her down onto his length.

Molly tensed for a moment before relaxing, allowing him into her warm core, "Missed you last night," he said. One of his string arms curled around the base of her spine, he bucked his hips, pushing up into her centre. She drew in a quick gasp at the sudden movement before smiling.

"Just you stay where you are," she said. James relaxed into the chair; Molly rested her hands on his shoulders and drove down. He gasped. The grip on her back tightened. She rocked forward and down, forward and down. His breath was soft on her cheek; it came in short puffs as she bounced on his cock. 

"God's woman, if you keep this up," he panted. He swallowed a groan and buried his head in the soft fabric of her shirt. His teeth grazed one of her nipples sending waves of fire to her crotch. Her breath stuck in her throat, she supressed a cough and poured her energy into him. Every downward thrust sent sparks up through her spine. The wave of pleasure that she'd had the joy of experiencing most nights this week was just on the horizon and she swam towards it with all her strength. "Oh no you don't," James growled in her ear. Before she could stop him, he'd picked her up and taken back the lead. He staggered to the bulkhead, supporting her as he moved. Her back crashed into the wooden wall. Her ankles locked on his hips and he drove into her.

The sparks running up her spine turning into bolts; her back arched. Molly dug her fingertips into his back and shoved his shoulder in her mouth to keep from crying out. His renewed thrusts did nothing to stop the lightening and before she could think of anything else, the wave claimed her once more. She clenched, unclenched and felt his explosion deep within her. He was hers in that moment; always was. His fire mixed with her own, intensified by the inability to scream to the entire ocean.

Molly drew a searing breath and her legs sagged. "Careful," James said, catching hold of her trembling form. Gently, he lowered her to the deck once more. He stepped away and Molly leaned against the bulkhead for a moment. "Ah sweet. I do so love the glow you get in your cheeks after a good fuck," he said.

Molly stammered, "Thanks." She couldn't keep a grin from her face.

"And that grin, I missed it yesterday. I love picturing it on your face every time I see you."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yes." Molly scampered across deck and pulled her pants back on over her hips. James fixed himself and pulled on his frock jacket. "You might want to vanish to the nest today. We can't give ourselves away if we're not together." 

"I'll do that," Molly said with a nod. James crossed the deck and pulled her into a deep kiss. His lavender scent now had the under smell of sweat and sex. She loved it even more and fire grew once more in her belly. No, she had to let him go, it was bad enough as it was. His mouth really was wonderful, the way he did that thing when his tongue when it found hers. He broke the kiss and brushed a lock of her hair back from her cheek.

"You should go." Molly nodded, "And try not to stare at me too much from the nest, you're a look out remember."

"Hey!" Molly said, disentangling herself from his arms. She knew it would be a tough job but as she walked away, she knew his eyes were staring right at her butt. She put a wiggle in it as she walked before the door closed behind her. 

The deck was still quiet and the sun hadn't fully risen yet. Mahoney gave her a nod and a wink; she gave a quick shake of her head before hauling herself into the shrouds and climbing to the top. 

The view always took her breath, the breeze up here was delightful and the dark blue of the sea was something to behold. Molly settled down in the nest and watched the horizon. The brilliant red of the sun poked over the sea, setting it a brilliant fiery red. Her mind was clear of thought at the sun began its slow ascent into the sky. Yellow replaced the red, which in turn was replaced by the natural azure of the sky. There was not a single cloud in the vast expanse above her and she couldn't keep a smile from creeping onto her face. Maybe Bess being here wasn't going to be so bad after all...



The Pirate and The Thief Ch. 12



I love getting your comments and appreciate all the constructive criticism I have had so far. However, I am also getting a lot of spam comments which I am deleting as they appear. If they continue to happen then I will be forced to turn off anonymous comments. I hope you enjoy the latest installment. Thanks again!




Three days later, Molly's mind had been thoroughly changed. Bess was as hellish as ever. The entire crew of the Sea Witch were sick of being near the Red Plunder and Molly was sure they were sick of being there too. Bess' demands while her ship was being repaired became more and more ridiculous. She wanted replacement sail, fresh stores and the entire crew working under her command. She contradicted Matthew's orders and sent her complaints directly to James. Molly hadn't seen anything of the captain for the entire three days, except for the odd glimpse here and there. He's been overseeing the work after Matthew's first report, been coming back after sunset and leaving early. She'd kept to her duty as lookout and had not encountered Bess since that first evening dinner. Still, time was coming where she needed to return to her other chore of sail making and that meant sitting on the forecastle in the sweltering hot sun once more. 

On the afternoon of the third day, she picked up her sailcloth and needles and took her place on deck. Molly was surprised when she was joined by Mahoney and Sasha. They both had grim looks on their faces as they picked up their own swatches of cloth and sat near her, "What's going on?" she asked, unable to keep the question from erupting from her mouth.

"Captain's orders," Mahoney said with a snort.

"Oh?"

"They need new sheets and we're expected to deliver." Sasha said as she stabbed her needle into the canvass on her lap.

"I thought we'd be done with this by now, wasn't it meant to take two days at the most?" Molly asked as she continued to make her own sail.

"Try telling that to her," said Mahoney with a jerk of his head, "She's taking him for a fool once more and we're the ones doing the hard graft, the more things change the more they stay the bloody same." He returned to his sail then and no amount of looks or pestering would convince him to speak any more on the subject. They stitched in silence. As the sun climbed further into the sky it became masked by clouds, light at first but as the day wore onwards, they changed to heavy, thick affairs that made the air cloying and hard to breath. Then the wind died. Sweat trickled down between Molly's shoulders and she shifted where she was sitting, trying to alleviate the discomfort. She wiped her head with the back of her hand and let out a sigh. Glancing up, she saw her two silent companions were in a similar position. She put her finished patch to one side and got to her feet.

The noise on deck was muffled as she took a long drink from the water barrel. Noticing in an offhand way that it was getting rather low. Hopefully they'd stop somewhere soon to restock. Mind you, the way the clouds had become heavy and the air stifling, it would seem rainwater would make a decent substitute. Distant buffing sounds came from the scrubbing of the deck, the usually brisk scuffing was replaced by a languid scrape, scrape, scrape. As she replaced the ladle, the noise stopped. The ship's bell rang the change of the hour but instead of the hustle scuffle to the galley, a despondent crew heaved its way to find dinner. Molly couldn't face anything. Food was the last thing on her mind as she picked up another patch of canvass and flopped next to her companions. Neither of them had moved either as the watch changed, just continued stitching in silence and sweat.

Clicking boot heels on planks that joined the two ships was the next thing that drew Molly's concentration away from her sail. It was James, red faced and scowling. In his hand was a boarding axe. "All hands on deck!" This brought a hive of activity to the deck. Finally! The boarding axe was used on the lines tying the two ships together. A short chopping action brought the whole affair to a close, the ropes twanged into the sea and the Sea Witch began to drift away. "Loose the main sails and maintopgallant," he barked. Pirates scrambled to obey his orders but with very little wind they didn't make much way. Molly looked over at the Red Plunder and saw Bess staring after them. Her face was the same as beetroot and her fists were clenched on the rail.

"You get back here you cowards! I'll hunt you across the seas and blow you to Maylan himself! Get back here! Get back here!" Her voice was shrill, her hair dishevelled. For the first time, Molly realised how ridiculous Bess looked. As if she'd read her mind, Bess looked straight at her. Molly gave a wave and the scowl that developed could have withered an oak. Molly just smiled before returning to her sail.

Bess' sheets remained furled but the lack of wind made for slow going. Her ranting could be heard for a long time after the lines had been cut. The amusement with which the crew found her calls was heartening. Eventually, her voices faded and the only sound was the hushed voices of the crew and the whisper of the waves on the ship's prow. The wind was a mere breath and the air was as oppressive as ever. The sun had set completely when Molly felt like eating. It was stifling and after the first mouthful, the food clawed around her mouth and tasted of nothing. She forced it down before pushing her plate away and leaning back against the bulkhead. Her eyes were heavy but she couldn't face going below. The mess at least got a draft from the hatch but the forecastle would be unbearable. Especially seeing how the day watch would be sleeping in their hammocks adding body heat and smell to the mix.

Molly returned to the forecastle where John was waiting for her. "Knew you'd come back here."

"Maylan knows it's hotter than sin down there," she replied.

"Aye," nodded John. He turned to face the see and looked up through a device Molly didn't know the name of. Looking through a telescope part of the device, he fiddled with a couple of dials. It clicked and a smaller part of the contraption moved. Satisfied, John removed his eyes from the telescope and nodded, "Well, least we're heading in the right direction."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Ventia."

"Ventia?" Molly frowned.

"Aye lass."

"What's that?"

"It's a little free port to the south of the archipelago. We can pick up supplies and clean our bottom. We're due for it and we'll haul a lot faster when we're done. Give us all a chance to stretch our legs before we make our next move." John said.

"You mean we're going to-"

"Dry land! Aye lass, dry land."

"How long will it take?"

"Depends on the wind, you should know that. Still," he added when he saw her hurt expression, "If we find a fair blow again then it'll be a couple of days."

"Great!" Molly said with a smile. She meant it too; it would be good to get off the ship and onto land. To stretch her legs a little would be a fine thing. She turned to look out across the vast expanse of sea. It was black save for the little circle of light that surrounded the ship. There was no moon and the stars were now fully masked by heavy clouds. A slight breeze tugged at Molly's braided hair, it caught her clothing and brushed her face. It was like a hot breath. 

"Get yourself up that ratline and begin furling that mainsail Molly," John said. She caught the frown on his face and raced to obey his order. His shout followed her and as soon as she was on the spar she was bundling the sail with her shipmates. The fore and mizzen were doing the same, had almost done when the hot rain found them. It whipped down, stinging and hot. The moisture offered no relief from the heat, in fact, it had made it worse. Molly panted and leaked sweat as she pulled her section of sail into its fold. Once done, she flicked water out of her face. The wind picked up, racing through the rigging, singing a sing in the ratlines. 

The rigging was wet and Molly clung to the ropes with extra care as she made her way back down to the deck. She made it without slipping. The sea had turned from choppy to heavy, great rolling waves were forming. Molly's heart pounded in her ears as the ship began to pitch and roll around. She glanced at the wheel and noticed James was there along with Mahoney. Both were working the wheel. The waves were getting higher, the wind showed no sign of relenting. All hands were at their stations, waiting for the order from the Captain. Molly took her place at the side; her job was to check the knots on the rigging – to make sure none of them would fail and let a sail loose. To catch the wind at this speed was to risk breaking a mast. 

It was a real struggle to get around the deck in the wind. With the deep plummeting of the ship into every wave trough and then the harsh climb. Couple that with the motion of the ship it was nearly impossible to move. The rain continued to whip Molly as she moved. It stung her face, her chest and legs. She was soaked through and the wet cotton rubbed against her skin as she clambered her way across the deck. There was a bright flash, the air sounded as though it was being ripped apart. Or was it the air? Molly looked up into the rain and the ship shuddered, deep beneath her. Another flash was followed by another shudder. It was no lightening. Cannon fire! Who the hell would fire on them in this weather? 

Muffled shouts filled the air. A deep boom answered below deck. She was aware that the ship had changed course and was now plunging across the rollers at a different angle. Molly pulled herself along and checked the knots on the starboard side of the ship. They were holding. Fighting her way across as the ship took a nosedive into the next trough was her main concern now. She was thrust forward as the ship fired again. She made it and caught herself against the railing. The scuppers poured water back into the rough sea, cold water washed over her feet and she clung to the railing. She spat a mouthful of salt water back into the sea. The boom of cannon fired once more, this time, there was a crack followed by an awful splintering sound. Molly glanced around and watched as the mizzen mast fell backwards. The pace agonisingly slow as it plummeted into the waiting sea.

A boarding axe! Molly fought her way to where they were kept in a weighted box and pulled one out. It was heavy in her hand but she heaved it up. The ship, pulled by the weight of the fallen mast, was listing to the side. They were no longer slicing through the waves. Great towering walls of sea threatened to swamp them. Send them down to the depths never to see the light of day again. She struggled up the quarter deck to the place where the fallen rigging strained over the rails. Looking out into the churning water she could make out a struggling figure. Stef! He'd been up the mizzen when it had fallen. "Swim!" she shouted. Her voice was whipped away by the wind. There was no way he'd have heard her. She was joined by other crew members, their voices joined hers. Just as futile.

Danny, Stef's bunkmate, was leaning over the rail, screaming as loud as he could for him to swim to safety. The ship listed further, pulling them so they were broadside onto the wave, the next one would consume them. James appeared at the rail and looked over. There was an axe in his hand and a grim expression on his face. He looked up to the sky for a brief moment. The crew stood back from the rail, letting the captain through. Raising the axe, he brought it down hard and severed the first of the trailing rigging lines. Another gave, then another. All the while the crew watched helplessly as the broken mast was cast adrift. Silently, the last of the ropes was cut, all hope of seeing Stef again died. Molly watched as a wave engulfed her friend. He did not reappear.

Once upright again, the ship crested the wave as it was meant to, they'd no longer be dragged under the sea. A sharp order brought the crew back to this world and to their posts once more. Molly did her duty but found it mechanical. Numb would be a better word to describe it. How could James be that cold? Just cast off a life like that as though it meant nothing. Stef was a decent friend and she knew he worked as hard as he could. She could see his smiling face as she checked the knots at this side of the ship. She wasn't even sure what side she was on anymore. There was just the sting of rain, the roar of the wind and the endless motion of the ship. No one was firing. There was just the noise of the sea.

Molly didn't know when it was the storm had blown itself out. She came back to herself when the sun shone bright into her face. There was warmth, clear and bright, in its light. A huge yawn escaped her and she jumped when a hand gripped her shoulder, "You need to rest." It was John.

"I-"

"No arguments." 

"Stef..." she let the name trail off. John fixed with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Molly looked up; James was leaning over the wheel, soaked through like she was, tired and aching too no doubt. Her legs were heavy and she knew she looked awful. Still... She nodded at John and crossed the deck. Pausing a moment at the steps she swallowed her fear and climbed them. She walked over to the wheel and waited for James to notice her. When he looked up, he appeared haggard. "I'm going to sleep in the cabin," she said. He nodded before returning his attention to the ship and the sea. 

Once in the cabin, she peeled off her wet clothes and left them in a heap to one side of the door. She slipped between the cool covers and as soon as her head was on the pillow her eyes drifted shut. Molly didn't sleep though. She dozed until she heard the cabin door open and then close once more. James sighed; it was a deep heavy noise. She let him remove his sodden clothing and heard him pull on dry ones. "I'm not staying." he said.

"How could you do it?" she asked.

"What?"

"To Stef, how could you do it?" Water trickled down her face and she brushed it aside. Tears weren't going to help her at the moment.

"You think I wanted that?"

"We could have saved him," she said.

"How?" 

"I don't know, we could have done something!" her voice rose as she spoke. James came over and sat on the bed beside her. "Anything at all. You just cast him adrift!" 

"Would you have risked everyone one board for one life?" he asked. He moved to touch her face but she turned her head away. The tears fled unchecked down her face.

"You wouldn't have done it if it was me on that mast," she said. He shook his head and stood up.

"I'm not even going to answer that." He said.

"You would? How? How can you-"

"Because I have to. It's one life against the fifty two living here. That's right. Fifty two lives against one. I know each by name. From the moment they step on these decks to the moment they leave. They trust my judgement, my capability in keeping them safe. If that means the life of one I love then so be it. I cannot risk everyone for the sake of a single soul. That's the truth of it." He said. "But don't you think for one moment that it doesn't hurt and that it's an easy decision to make." He slammed the door behind him on his last word. Molly flung herself down onto the pillow once more and sobbed into it. Her cries lengthened and eventually she fell into a fitful sleep.



The Pirate and The Thief



The band were in mid flow when the door crashed open, the wind burst into the room, the life was sucked out into the cool darkness as the lanterns flickered and sputtered. The band paused for half a heartbeat before continuing with the reel they were playing but the singing has lost some of its gusto. Molly turned to see what the disturbance was, only to find it was another group of pirates joining the fray. She returned her attention to her companions to discover that they were all looking at the newcomers. All of a sudden, the moment passed and their attention was drawn back to the players. Molly found herself unable to do the same, the group sauntered to the bar as if they owned the place and she wondered who they were. Two quick cracks on the spoons drew her attention and she was watching the band once more.

Three of the new comers came and sat on the side of the table with John and Bart, colour drained from John's face and Bart looked spooked. John glanced into one of the booths and Molly's gaze followed without her realising it. In the booth sat one of the tallest men she's ever seen, he sat lounging back on one of the plush benches, one long leg propped on one knee. She couldn't make out much else because the shadow hid him, just the odd glint from the candles on metal punctured the darkness. John stood up, "Just a moment," he muttered before following the other men to the booth. One remained behind and engaged Bart in a conversation that was hushed.

Molly tried to focus on the band again but an exchanged look between Davie and Len told her to keep her eyes open just in case. The music sounded strained now, she could hear her heart pounding faster than the beat of the drum, her palms were clammy and she wiped the sweat on her thighs. Rog gave her a half smile and a reassuring nod. "It'll be fine," he whispered. She forced her hands to uncurl from the fists she found them in and watched the band.

"What's going on?" she said keeping her voice low. She was tempted to move her head nearer to Rog's but that would be obvious, they were being watched after all.

"Seems the Sea Witch is in town," he said.