As man hath caused a blemish...

Day One

It seemed as there was no such thing as a private conversation on board the Flying Dutchman. It seemed that everyone thought I was leaving. Wiggs and Rawlings found me out once I returned to my duties, both of them looking oddly worried,

“You’re not leaving are you?” Rawlings broke the slightly awkward silence first,

“Who did you hear that off?” I asked, somewhat effectively dodging the question if I say so myself,

“Wiggs listened at the door. So are you?”

“Why?” Ok so that was a little harder to dodge but I think that did it. Rawlings and Wiggs shared a look,

“Wanted to know if we needed to break open a special keg to see you off” Wiggs mumbled with a shrug,

“There’s that and the Captains been sulking since yesterday” Rawlings finished for him, picking off something with way too many legs off the back of Wiggs’ neck and chewing on it contentedly. It was a habit that a lot of the crew had….but EWW!!!! Major EW! I’m not terribly fond of anything with more than four legs and seeing one of six twitching in the corner of Rawlings mouth was not what I wanted to see. Ever. I shuddered and turned away,

“He’s not sulking…you know who Tia Dalma is?” I asked them, they looked at me blankly, “Calypso?” The light of understanding dawned in their eyes. After making them swear never to tell another soul, I recounted what had occurred the previous day,

“Blimey” Rawlings said, looking ever so slightly sympathetic…or rather…as sympathetic as a man with a small crab growing out of the back of his head could look, “what are you gonna do?”

“Honestly?” I said, setting aside the shirt I’d been patching up, “I dunno…any suggestions would be most welcome” I hinted heavily, looking at the both of them with pleading. Any solution to having to think about this would be useful,

“Why don’t you give him his heart back?” Wiggs asked, totally seriously. If not for the aforementioned serious expression I would have burst out laughing,

“What? ‘hey, Captain, would you mind awfully if we ripped open your chest so I can put the heart which you tore out yourself back in just so I can stay here please?’” I raised an eyebrow, “Oh yeah, he’s gonna love that” I shook my head, laughing a little at the expression that I imagined on Jones’ face, “I don’t even know where the heart is anyway” I shrugged,

“We do. It’s on board” Rawlings supplied, earning an elbow in the ribs from Wiggs,

“What?” I asked in surprise, “really?”

“Aye, there was an, er…incident, a couple of centuries ago apparently…” Wiggs said, shooting Rawlings a dirty look, “something about it actually being stabbed? I dunno” He shrugged. On impulse I leaned over, kissing them both on the cheek. It was sweet, and un-necessary, what they were trying to do for me,

“Thanks for the idea but it wouldn’t work anyway. The ship needs a living heart to keep running” The shock with which they looked at me – Rawlings holding on to his cheek as if was some miracle – was just too funny and I burst out laughing as I left the room. My body had re-adjusted – in many, many ways – to life aboard the Flying Dutchman, one of them was instinctively knowing when suppertime for the Captain was. I made my way over to the kitchen, nodding at the odd crewman who I had a passing acquaintance with, yelling out to one or two who’s sewing I’d finished before entering the galley. Pritchett was working at the far end and gestured irritably to the cauldron over the little stove,

“You-” I turned at the sound of his voice, even as he cut himself off. He was looking at me with an expression somewhere between embarrassment, sullenness and irritation,

“What?”

“You ain’t leavin’…are you?” The question shocked me so much that I just stared at him, did he want me to stay? What kind of question was that? “I’d never call the Captain soft, no one who wanted to keep breathin’ would but with you around he’s less…” He scowled, struggling for the right word,

“Just less” I whispered,

“Aye” He shrugged one shoulder, looking as awkward as hell. I silently collected together everything I needed for the tray,

“Pritchett” I paused in the doorway,

“What?”

“You don’t seem too bad a sort” I said, quite pleased when he returned my tentative smile, “but touch me again and I’ll drop kick your head over the side of the ship, got it?” He laughed and nodded, turning away to carry on with his own duties. I smiled as I carried everything to the top deck, it seemed as if we had reached a new sort of truce. I knocked on the door and pushed my way in. The pipe organ was purring softly, the tune so quiet that it was barely audible,

“Supper, sir” I said, breaking the not-quite-silence as I set the customary tray on the table. He motioned me closer, never once stopping the tune on the pipe organ, he swayed slightly with the effort of playing. I stood by his side, my hand reaching out to gently rest on his shoulder, until the music stopped whereupon I was pulled into his lap. I couldn’t help it, I clung to him, not caring about the tentacles that wrapped around my hands, pressing my face into the side of his hat. He held on to me as tightly as I held him, his arms around his waist and the tentacles of his beard twirling around my arm, almost protectively,

“I’ll chart us a course back to Scotland” He murmured, lips moving gently, ticklish against my throat, “at least if she literally throws you off my ship you wouldn’t have far to swim” He added with customary odd humour,

“If I leave” I said in reply. He chuckled softly, though there was a slight catch of bitterness to the sound. He sat back enough to look up at me,

“Tell me, Spyce” He purred, the twinkle in his eye betraying the humour he felt, “which part of ‘Tia Dalma will kill you if you don’t leave’ don’t you understand?” I sighed,

“Perhaps leaving will kill me” I said melodramatically, smiling as he looked up at me to let him know I was kidding,

“Spyce-“

“It’s serious I know” I almost snapped at him and – despite how cosy it was – I gently pushed myself out of his lap, untangling the stubborn tentacles. Walking over to where I’d set his meal and stealing his bread, “I know” I sighed heavily, actually thinking about it, “what should I do Captain?” I asked, my voice sounding small and lost to my own ears. I turned back round to find him standing right behind me. How could a fairly heavy set man – with a peg leg – move so quietly?

“Your family will be missing you” He said softly, a tentacle curling out to brush over my cheek. I didn’t have the heart to pull away,

“Yeah, right” I snorted, looking down, as ever, unable to meet the strength and weight of his gaze, “the only one who gave a damn about me was mom…everyone else just wanted me to get married and have babies” I said, hearing the bitterness in my own tone. You think I’m exaggerating? I’d be luckier if I was. The crab clawed hand came to rest under my chin, forcing me to look up into that piercing blue gaze,

“Is it worth the risk? Staying here?” He asked, his tone almost soft,

“You’ve still got …feelings for her? For Calypso or Tia Dalma or whatever her name is?” I asked in reply. It appeared neither of us were fans of answering direct questions. I spoke gently, carefully, not wanting to pry at any old wounds. Still, he stiffened instantly, letting his hand drop as the constant writhing of his tentacles become a little more pronounced,

“That’s hardly a question for a cabin boy to ask of her Captain” He said stiffly,

“I saw the pain in your eyes Davy, you’re still in love with her” I countered, feeling angry heat bloom over my cheeks at his words

“You don’t have a clue what happen, you can’t judge this” He snapped…and then I said something extremely stupid. I knew it was stupid even before I opened my mouth and I deserved what happened afterwards,

“Whatever that bitch meant to you, she didn’t return the feelings very well did she?” The slap wasn’t exactly hard, I think he realised what he was doing even before his hand moved, but the shock of it made me look up at him with wide eyes and a loose jaw…attractive huh? We stared at each other for a moment, too many emotions passing between the two of us to write. I raised a trembling hand to my cheek, unable to believe that he’d just done that. He sighed heavily and reached out, as if to soothe the mark he’d left but I pulled away sharply,

“You…I’ll…I’ll just be getting on with my duties, sir” I said softly, taking refuge in the familiar, shoving my emotions to one side to deal with later…when I could sob in private and no one would notice,

“Spyce-” I backed out of the room, not even looking at him as he spoke my name,

“Leave your shirt on the side later. There’s a hole in it” I mumbled…suffice to say I didn’t sleep that night, alternating between stuffing my mouth with a make shift blanket so no one could hear me sob and thinking too deeply while the toccata of the pipe organ roared overhead