Open Waters

by Valerie Mores

  Jane frowned, stroking her ring absentmindedly as she stared after the woman. What was it about this whore that made Jane act so irrationally? Innocent life or not, Jane never extended them the same treatment she did the other members of the captured ship's crew. Was it perhaps the fact that she was a woman? That must have been it, for what else could it be? Until they made it to the next port, she would just have to ignore the whore's gender and treat her like the prisoner she now was.

  That thought however flew out of Jane's mind as, once she reached the Tantibus, the whore was pulled from Worth's grasp by Cooksley, that predatory glint in his eye once more.

  "What a pretty little thing you are," Jane heard Cooksley growl, as he pulled her flush against him "What's your name, sweetheart?"

  The whore glared up at him, the fire of defiance ablaze in her eyes. "None of ya concern, ya rat." She growled.

  "It's Cecily, and she is a feisty one, I tell ya," spoke a short, pudgy man from the new recruits, the grin on his face telling all he knew this fact firsthand. The crew laughed, the sound making Jane's blood boil and with hurried steps, she closed the gap and gracefully leaped down upon the deck of her ship.

  "Cecily," Cooksley hummed, running his hands along her hips in an exceedingly inappropriate manner.

  And for the first time, the whore—Cecily, the man had said her name was—displayed the defiance that Jane had thought she had seen bubbling just under the surface when they were in the captain's quarters. She slapped Cooksley's hands away with anger, no longer trying to mask her disgust. But whether it was disgust for Cooksley himself or for being brought aboard the Tantibus against her will, Jane didn't know. She didn't much care, either, for she was feeling that overwhelming anger and protectiveness at the former.

  Her hand automatically strayed to the hilt of her sword as she planted her feet in a clear challenge a few paces away from where Cooksley was petting and smirking down at a struggling Cecily. The slither of metal against leather brought silence down upon the crew and all eyes found Jane as she leveled her sword toward Cooksley. "Unhand her immediately or I shall slit your throat and wash the deck in your blood."

  "Captain…" Worth warned, and she saw him glance at her uncertainly in her periphery. She could only imagine how it must look, the captain threatening the life of one of her own crew over the well-being of some whore. He must think her mad, they all must. Jane just wished she would allow herself to give a fuck.

  "Aw, come on, Captain," Cooksley purred, brushing Cecily's hair aside to get to her neck. Cecily tried to pull away again, a look of loathing on her face. But there was nowhere to go, not with a meaty arm wrapped across her chest. She only managed to flinch away, which just bared her neck further. "We've been at sea for weeks now. And we have so graciously saved this woman's life. I think she owes us."

  "I don't owe ya anythin'," Cecily spat. Then she rammed her elbow hard into Cooksley's stomach. The breath left him in a forceful exhale, but he didn't release his hold on her, even as she squirmed in his arms, practically growling in her frustration.

  Jane just squared her shoulders and glared hard at Cooksley. "Do not make me repeat myself, Cooksley," she threatened, her voice low and cold: a warning. One that all her men knew was foolish to challenge. She had never lost one, not yet, and she damn well didn't plan to start now.

  There was a moment, just a moment where Jane was sure he was going to continue on and do something rash all in the name of defiance. But then he relaxed, shoving Cecily away from him with a shrug and a flippant gesture, as though he couldn't care less about some whore. Like she wasn't worth it. Just that gesture alone almost caused Jane to run him through right then and there, damn the consequences.

  "Take her to my quarters," she ordered Worth, without taking her eyes off of Cooksley. When Worth, with Cecily now safely in his grasp, had been swallowed up in the throng of crew, Jane relaxed her stance and sheathed her sword. She looked about, glaring at her men with all the authority she could muster. "As for the rest of you, this woman is not to be harmed in anyway whilst aboard this ship. Is that understood?"

  Nods and "ayes" sounded in answer from the men before her, but she took note that Cooksley did neither and his features remained coolly detached. He was going to continue to be a problem, she could tell. "If any of you so much as touch her, you will be taking a little trip down to Davy Jones for a permanent stay."

  And without waiting for any other replies or protests, Jane strode toward her quarters, the line of crew parting respectfully to let her pass.

  As she approached, Worth exited the quarters, his face neutral, despite the strange way his captain was acting. Or at least she assumed he thought it strange. She certainly did and she was the one who was acting as such. Frankly, it scared her.

  "Order the men to disengage from the Liberty and set sail for the island immediately," Jane ordered in a tone perhaps a little too harsh for talking to the first mate who had shown her no ill will. "I want to unload this lot before the Navy even realizes one of her ships has disappeared."

  "Aye, Captain," Worth answered with a nod before looking over at the slowly-sinking galleon. His brow was furrowed and she could tell he was contemplating something, but was hesitant to speak.

  She sighed, pausing to turn and face him. "What is it, Worth? Spit it out."

  His light azure eyes found hers as he crossed his arms over his chest and jerked his head toward her quarters. "What do you plan to do with her?" Jane noticed he failed to add her title, but it bothered her little.

  She was more focused on finding an answer to his question, for she hadn't the slightest idea. She had acted on instinct: an instinct that hadn't arisen in her in years. An instinct she had thought she had gotten over and moved past so she could live, breathe, and not have to deal with loss, pain, and heartache. Clearly, that wasn't the case. There was something about Cecily, something that sparked a… feeling—no, that wasn't it. She really couldn't place it, to be honest. But it was there, and it made her act in ways she normally wouldn't have.

  But she needed to tell Worth something, needed to assure him that his Captain was still here and still in her right mind, even if she felt far from it.

  "I plan to drop her off at the next port and be done with her. But I refuse to listen to the men fight over her until that can be done," she stated, hoping it came off nonchalant.

  Worth stared at her for a second longer, his eyes searching her for who knew what. She kept her face impassive and her body relaxed, slipping back into her arrogant persona with ease. And Worth seemed to accept it, for with another nod, he turned and started relaying her orders to the men.

  Jane stared after him, wondering what sort of gossip she may have just incited before deciding she didn't much care and strode into her chambers, closing the door behind her.

  *~*~*

  "So, ya are the Captain?" a silky voice drawled from the depths of her quarters. Jane turned around, unbuttoning her coat, expecting to find Cecily standing in the center, awaiting her. But the whore was not there, and Jane cocked an eyebrow at finding the woman lounging in her chair at the table littered with maps and notes. She almost laughed out loud at the sight, but quickly composed her expression into one of annoyance.

  "I would have thought that obvious by now, my lady," Jane retorted, sarcasm dripping from the title as she hung her coat by the door.

  Cecily just picked up the compass from the table, twirling it idly between long, lithe fingers and chuckled, "I am no lady."

  Jane huffed. "Yes, that much is clear."

  Ignoring her, Jane approached the other side of the table and glanced down at the map, running her fingers across its surface. They were a great distance from their cache island, one that lay almost on the far side of the mainland and past a few ports that, if not given a wide berth, could prove problematic. But they had done longer and more risky trips before, and she knew that they could make it in a few weeks with minimal stops. One, of course, would be to drop off the strange c
reature now sprawled in her chair, seeming to not have a care in the world for her predicament.

  "Do ya have a name?" Cecily probed, breaking the silence. Jane continued staring at the map, hoping to maintain the precious quiet. But it seemed Cecily had never learned that silence was a virtue. "Or shall I just call ya 'Cap'ain'?" she finished, and Jane could feel the whore's eyes upon her, scrutinizing her. She tried once again to ignore it, but couldn't help the miniscule shiver that ran down her spine.

  Jane sighed, not even having to try very hard to sound exasperated. "Have we not just established that I am indeed the captain? There is no need to call me anything but."

  The creak of the chair followed her proclamation as Cecily got up. Jane stole a quick glance up to see the woman straighten out her dress before once again focusing on the map before her. "If tha' is wha' ya wish… Cap'ain," she stated in a sultry voice, the words like a caress, silky and warm as they flowed through the room.

  A tantalizingly sweet smell assaulted Jane's nose seconds before arms wrapped around her chest, fingers finding the buttons on her outer corset and managing to undo one. Jane whirled and slapped the hands away in one fluid motion, shock having wiped away her arrogance in a flash, and she scrambled to replace it with annoyance and insult, even as she felt her cheeks flush.

  "What are you doing?" Jane demanded as she glared at Cecily, appalled and unable to rid her airways of the sweet smell that surrounded Cecily. Or whatever it was that she carried to make her smell so sweet. It was, Jane had to admit, not all that unpleasant. "I am not one of your clients."

  Cecily just stared back, heat in her eyes, causing Jane's cheeks to flare up once again. She wished Cecily would stop, truly she did, but at the same time felt that spark inside her alight, stronger than before. She squashed it forcefully. And despite not understanding what was happening to her right now, Jane knew that whatever it was, it made her vulnerable, and she would not have that. She needed to regain control now.

  Cecily took a step forward and Jane took one back in response, making her pause and stay her ground. A quick flash of hurt crossed Cecily's face before being replaced once more with a confident, sultry look. It happened so fast that Jane was sure she had imagined it. "Why else would ya have taken me ta ya quarters?" Cecily asked.

  "Would you rather be out there?" Jane inquired, gesturing toward the doors and the main deck beyond. "I cannot stop them from taking what they will from you, my lady, if they are so inclined to do so."

  "I was under the impression tha' it was ya who desired somethin' from me." Cecily shifted her stance to one more inviting, one that begged for attention, and Jane had no doubt it was successful at getting it, seeing as she herself had to try hard to ignore it.

  But she managed, crossing her arms defensively. "A very poor impression, I can assure you."

  Cecily cocked her eyebrow, disbelief evident upon her face. "Everyone wants a little somethin', even ya."

  Jane shook her head. "Nothing but to drop you off at the nearest port and be on my way."

  "Then why even take me at'll?" Cecily asked, disbelief morphing into confusion as the seductive act dropped to reveal a hint of the woman beneath.

  "Would you have rather stayed?" Jane questioned.

  A frown creased Cecily's face as she defended, "At least there, I was earnin' my keep."

  That statement took Jane by surprise. She knew how these sorts of things worked, how a whore earned her living and how they were hired. But normally that was ashore and in a whorehouse, where they were allowed to live and earn their keep. Not aboard a ship. But she'd never claimed to know the inner workings of the sex trade.

  "Earning your keep?" Jane asked with a raise of her eyebrows. "Is that what you want?"

  Silence met Jane's inquiry as Cecily looked down at the floor, brow furrowed in anger. But again, whether it was due to her current predicament or to the nature of her previous one, Jane didn't know.

  "Because from the way you acted," Jane continued, seeing she wasn't about to receive an answer, "I was under the impression that you had not chosen to be aboard that ship at all. Am I correct?"

  Cecily's head snapped up, and glared at Jane. "I owed them a debt," she stated defensively.

  Ah, that was more like it. Jane wondered what she had done to wind up in such a position. It must have been some debt to be taken aboard a ship that, for all she knew, could be at sea for months.

  Jane nodded at Cecily. "One that you won't have to pay off anymore."

  The chuckle that escaped Cecily's lips was not what Jane had expected in response. "So wha', now I owe ya?"

  "Not at all," Jane snorted, with a shake of her head. "I do not take from whores."

  Cecily just quirked an eyebrow at Jane, a smile playing at her lips, and crossed her arms over her half-bared chest. "Yes, tha' much is clear."

  A chuckle escaped Jane's lips before she could stop it. Cecily was now parroting her own words back at her, the little cheeky whore. She was like no whore Jane had ever met before, and she had met plenty in her lifetime. Most, however, left the sass behind when soliciting, as it tended to not bode well for business. Men didn't like a fuck that talked back to them. And here this one had blatantly refused and been disgusted by Cooksley's antics, a potential client, and yet had come on to Worth without invitation. What her game was, Jane had yet to discover. Her body language invited, while her cheek dissuaded. It was intriguing, to say the least, and Jane found herself taking a step toward Cecily unconsciously before she halted her movement.

  She had no more time to mull over this fact, as the ship gave a sudden lurch and Jane was forced to grab the edge of the table behind her to keep from toppling over. She cursed, feeling the ship level out again and strode out of her quarters in order to determine what on earth her crew was attempting to pull off. Cecily made to follow, but Jane slammed the door in her face, locking it with the key around her neck. Annoyed cries of protest sounded from the room beyond, but Jane ignored them, facing the main deck as she started shouting at the men running about, trying in vain to forget the intriguing woman now locked safely in her quarters.

  *~*~*

  "Why do ya continue ta treat me as a—"

  "Prisoner?" Jane interrupted, knowing exactly what Cecily was referring to before she had even finished. It wasn't hard to guess. She had become more and more anxious as the days had passed with her cooped up in the captain's quarters. "That's because you are one. Just because you fail to accept it doesn't make it any less true," she finished, not even bothering to look up from the notes she was currently reading. But though she couldn't see Cecily, she could still smell the now-familiar, sweet scent she exuded and which seemed to now fill every corner of the room.

  Jane could also feel the unamused glare Cecily shot her and heard the slide of skin and the rustle of fabric as she crossed her arms over her chest.

  "The sooner you do accept your fate, the sooner we can move on," Jane continued, when Cecily didn't answer. "For in case you were unable to conclude, resisting would be unpleasant."

  Cecily let out a breathy laugh. "I'm not the one resistin', love. Ya are."

  Jane wasn't quite sure they were talking about the same thing anymore.

  It had been a couple of days since the raid on the galleon, since Cecily had come aboard the ship and started making a nuisance of herself. The first day hadn't been too troublesome. But that had more to do with Jane avoiding her quarters and less to do with Cecily herself. That was, until night fell, and Jane turned in for the night. She had walked into her quarters to find a very underdressed—although still covered, however poorly—Cecily sprawled tantalizingly on her bed. Jane could feel the flush staining her cheeks that had nothing to do with the anger she outwardly displayed. In fact, her mouth had gone dry and her heart had sped up, but there was no way in hell she would ever admit it. Cecily was beautiful, Jane could at least admit to herself, but she couldn't afford to get attached, couldn't afford to let down her guard, especially for some good-for-
nothing whore.

  And to make matters worse, Cecily had refused to move, even when Jane threatened to throw her overboard. She had just called her bluff and snuggled deeper into the bed sheets, stretching her body like a cat and effectively wiping all thought from Jane's mind. Jane repaid the favor by pulling out her pistol and aiming at Cecily's head until, with a pout, she dragged herself and the topmost sheet from the bed and flopped down on the floor in the corner of the room.

  Jane got very little sleep that night, going over and over in her head all the different responses her body and instincts had to this woman, and trying to decide what on earth it all meant. But as morning arose, chasing the three hours of sleep she had managed to get away, Jane still didn't have a clue. It was frustrating her to no end, and it took all her effort to not display and take out her frustration on her crew.

  Although Cecily hadn't attempted that performance again, it didn't mean she let up. The flirting, even days later, was at an all-time high and the innuendoes never seemed to cease. Jane wasn't sure what Cecily was playing at, why she continued to pester Jane, even when she had both displayed and stated her disinterest. Whores usually moved on to the next available clientele once the disinterest had been duly noted. But then again, as she had very early on realized, Cecily was not an average whore.

  In fact, the longer Jane spent around her, the more she came to realize that despite her skill at invitation and displaying herself, she was an awful whore—well, on the aspects Jane was able to judge her by, that was. She was persistent to the point of annoying, mouthy, and, as Jane found out one night, picky.

  "It's about control, isn't it?" Cecily had asked on the third night, having blurted out the confession after Worth had left the quarters with Jane's orders ringing in his ears.

  Jane looked over at Cecily lounging on her bed once more—fully clothed this time—to find her staring back at her with knowing eyes. "What?"

  "Tha's wha' ya desire, wha' ya need in life," Cecily explained, looking up at the wooden paneling above her, as though she was a child gazing up at the stars. "Ya need control and the respect and loyalty of your crew is how ya gain it. It's wha' ya have ta retain every day."