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The Forbidden Treasure [Mr.Master and I]

Her hand reached out to the knob of the door but was knocked away slightly by the side of his body as he stood in front of her. Her mouth opened to speak but he had cut her off and she sighed, looking down to the ground at his words. It almost did seem quite suicidal and she uncocked the pistol before placing it back into the holster upon her body and her eyes traveled up to meet his once again. She just wanted to get out there, shoot all of them in the heads and get it over with. But she couldn't help but know, that he was completely right about this, she couldn't just go out there alone with no plan. They'd take over, possibly kill or place mutiny over Windslow and take her back to what they were doing before. Causing a disgusting shiver to run down her spine, which only angered her more.

"What is this plan of yours, Windslow." She said and crossed her arms over her stomach and grimaced a bit as it brushed along the cuts along her breasts and bruises over her stomach. Though she cleared her face of any pain, to show that she was damn capable of going with this plan. She stepped away from the door and sat down onto the end and edge of his bed as she looked up to him. Her hands on her knees and she pointed, "Lets 'ere it then."
 
Windslow staggered over to her. His limbs were still largely untrustworthy from the drug, but they were getting better, or he was getting better at fighting it. "The captian's cabin is the entire aft of the main deck. We only have one door, but windows out the back. Immediately below us is the galley, which, I don't think many of them are going to be cooking right now. So if we climb down from the windows back here," he indicated his bank of windows at the aft of the ship, "we can get belowdecks. And it's an easy matter to get to the brig once we're down there; the rough part is getting from here below. Then, the brig is locked but..." and here he lifted a key on a string around his neck, "I have a master key for all the ship's locks. I also have a collection of weapons, ready to go, and we can pick up more as we go." He indicated the canvas bag he'd filled.

He sighed. "That's what I've got. Problem is, I have no rope to climb down to the deck below. And I'm not sure I have the strength to hold on with one hand and open the galley porthole, anyway, not with this drug in me. That's why this plan relies upon you."

He looked her in the eye, still respectfully not touching her. "So, will you help me, Ethel?"
 
She looked over to the window and then back over to him as she heard his words and his plan, she sighed softly and she peered down to the floor of the room and then back up to him. "If it'll get rid of this brainless pigs, then yes." She said and looked to him and stood up from his bed, she was cleaned up but yet she wasn't.. she didn't feel like it. She shook the thought from her mind and she moved over to the window of the cabin and she grunted, pushing it open before finally it popped out a bit and allowed room for her to crawl through. Sticking her head through she could see the waves below and the window just below her. She pulled back in and looked over to him. "Yes, Cap'n Windslow.. lets do it." She said as she nudged the window and it opened just a bit more and she pushed herself up and through it with a slight grunt. The small of her back against the bottom of the window sill and her hands grasped onto the top of it as her legs pulled through and dropped down.

Her foot nudged it and pushed the other galley window open and she looked to him. Having put his pistol back into her own holster incase anything went awry. She looked away before she held onto the sill with her one hand, hanging there with nothing to catch her as she leaned down and pushed on the window to open it.
 
Windslow watched her pop open the window as he moved to collect the discarded bedsheet. He tied it to the solidly-attached side rail of his bunk, and then turned around just in time to see her drop through the window. His eyes bugged, but he hurried over enough to see her fingers still gripping the sill. Working quickly, he tied another sheet to the end of the first, and began to feed the improvised rope through the window. "Here, this ought to help," he said quietly. Whatever else she was, Ethel Bonney was headstrong and not prone to waiting; Windslow should have realized this earlier.

Still fighting the toxins in his system, he levered open a window next to the one Bonney had left through, moving the bulk of the canvas bag of weapons out first. He wanted to get out quickly, but didn't want to fall right on top of her; it would be easier to get out the window first and then move over to the improvised rope when she was clear. As he wormed out of the window, he heard a loud knock on his door. "Capt'n? We need the prisoner," shouted Van Graaf's deep voice. Windslow just smiled grimly, from outside of his ship's very walls, and looked down to see how Bonney was doing.
 
She saw the rope being dropped down and she was now about more than halfway done getting down to the galley. Though hearing the loud knock, she gasped and lost her grasp upon the sill of the window. Her left foot slipping off the galleys window, though her right hand caught the makeshift rope and her left on the galley sill as she fell a few feet. She grumbled and rolled her eyes to hear Van Graafs voice, he was the one who was going to get it the worse and she reached the galley before finally getting the window pushed open and her legs were the first to go in.

Sliding her feet in she wiggled her way just before her feet landed on the floor and she turned over onto her stomach and looked up to him. "The weapons." She said and held her hands out to catch the bag before stepping back and grunting as she got herself through the window, this one a bit smaller but still able to along with the bag of weapons, setting it down.
 
He passed the weapons bag to her, and then reached over for the makeshift rope. He grabbed it just as he heard the first battering-ram-like impact on his cabin door. He slid down the sheet, and ran into problems when he nearly lost his grip, his drug-weakened hands momentarily spasming open. But he snagged the galley window, and dragged himself part-way in.

"They'll be coming," he panted, struggling in. "They're braking down the door. Here, take the key..." he yanked the key off his neck and held it out to her. "Take the key, kill any guards they have on hand, and let your men out. I'll follow as soon as I'm in."
 
Turning around she took hold of the key and she looked to him before she nodded and turned though she stopped and sighed. Just because his men did that to her, didn't mean he would. She watched him struggle before moving around and forcing herself to the window. Her hands grasped his shoulders and arms, tugging him through the window before falling to the floor with a light thud along with him.

Though just after landing on the floor she scrambled to her feet and moved to the door and opened, seeing the brig just next to it. Pulling out her sword, not wanting to fight she grabbed the first one who growled and ran for her. Sliding her sword deep into his stomach and shoving him back before the second one met her. Their swords clashing and she swung her blade roughly, slicing his stomach and she stumbled over to the cells. "Sshh.." she whispered to them, "We need your help. Windslow and I..his crew.." She trailed off and she sighed softly. "You're sober and rested. They're not..we need to kill them.. defeat them." She nodded and unlocked the cell doors and let them out quietly.
 
Windslow stumbled into the brig area after that. The newly-freed and -armed crew pointed their knives and cutlasses and pistols at him, but he just raised his hands. "Gentlemen, I'm allied with your captain against my former crew. I'm the least of your problems." He looked at Bonney. "They're still breaking in upstairs; once they find we've gone down the back, they'll be running belowdecks. I suggest moving forward from here, coming up top from one of the fore hatches, killing as we go, and then ambushing the bulk of them from behind as they seek us out down here. What do you think, Capt'n?"

He was being doubly formal and polite with her, in part to cover his appreciation and embarrassment in the galley. Appreciation for her coming back and helping him through the window. Embarrassment for, when they fell to the deck together, their bodies pressing against each other, he had a momentary flash of desire to kiss her. Given their positions, given what had just happened to her, clearly that was the wrong move, so he hadn't acted. But the wish to do so had made him self-conscious, and now he covered by being the consummate professional.
 
"Don't." She said as they brought their pistols, swords and knifes up towards Windslow. She sighed and nodded her heard, "We're working together now." She cocked her brow and the boys nodded before sighing. "Why are you allied. What did he do?" Bo'sun asked and glared towards Windslow, "Did he trick ye, or forcing ya to do this?" He asked and she shook her head. "No..Windslow saved me." After that, Bo'sun and a few men gave almost confused looks and dropped their weapons. "Aye, lets do it." One said and the others nodded.

Ethel Bonney looked over to Windslow and breathed in as she opened up the bag to him and her men as they could get what they needed to take over the drunken pirates. She looked up as the sound of a door was slammed open and Van Graafs yell was heard, 'They're not in 'ere! Find 'em. Kill him, take Bonney back. We ain't finished." He growled and Bonney breathed in and sighed softly. "Van Graaf is mine.." She growled lowly, looking to Windslow and turning, it would be her pleasure to take his life.
 
They moved quickly; as three of them held the main belowdecks gangway against the press of angry, drunk mutineers, like the Spartans held the pass at Thermopylae, the other nine, including the wounded and Bonney and Windslow, moved quickly forward and abovedecks, silently killing any stray mutineer that crossed their path. Once up top, they crept up on the rowdy gang of mutineers trying to press themselves belowdecks, until they were able to fall upon them like ravenous wolves on a stray herd of sheep.

If Bonney's crew had fought well when they were hung over and exhausted, they were the match of any three mutineers now. From the start, it was clear that the mutineers were heavily overmatched, but they were too drunk, stupid, overconfident, or all three to realize it. And in any case, there was no quarter to be given, no mercy to be offered.

In the thick of it, Van Graaf caught sight of Bonney, roared, and charged.
 
Windslow's part in the battle:

Even lethargic and half-drugged, Windslow still managed to kill one of the mutineers, right in front of two of his former, formerly-trusted crew as they stood by the starboard rail. His former friends. He pulled his bloody sword free of the dead man's heart and leveled it at them. "Port is only a few hours away," he growled at them, trying not to show how shaky he actually was. "A lucky man might swim there. A smart man would know when to try."

They looked at each other, and then dropped their weapons and dived over the side. Windslow kicked an empty barrel over the side after them, for their flotation, and then turned back to the battle...
 
Once making it on deck, they had already offed a few of his men but once they realized they were losing men by the second, in their drunk and stupid state they began to fight. Missing them by a few feet with every thrust of their sword which almost made Bonney laugh. But she heard a roar and she looked up to see Van Graaf running towards her, even in his drunken state she thrust her sword up but he managed to hit her with his shoulder. Crying out as she was thrust back against the railing of the ship, his sword mere inches from her face and her sword blocking his. She could still see the anger and yet lust in his eyes to rape her once more.

"'Eres yer come uppins." She sneered and thrust her knee up, roughly right between his legs. Not hard enough to make him fall to the ground a squeal, but much more harder. To feel it almost crunching beneath her knees, listening to him scream in pain as he fell to the deck. "I should slice it off right now." She growled and pointed her blade down towards him, "But yer not worth my time." She breathed in then stopped, "But maybe you are. Oh how I would enjoy listening to yer every cry as I slice off yer friend, as slowly as possible." She snickered and brought her sword down into his thigh and twisting the blade roughly.
 
Fury was in his eyes as he charged, and it was clear he expected her to be weak, broken by her experience, a pushover. He pressed his sword close, literally licking his lips.

And then she kneed him, and the fire went from his eyes as they rolled up into his head. He was literally blinded by the agony of his manhood being just about shattered, and fell to the deck nearly insensate with the pain. Strangely enough, the pain in his thigh, damaging and twisting though it was, actually brought him around. Through the red haze, he looked up at Bonney, and moved.

Snarling in animal savagery, he grasped her sword hand, locking his meaty grip around her wrist, and pulled as he rose on his good leg, forcing her sword through the meat of his other leg, making it slide out the other side as he came up toward her and pulled her in, his free hand reaching for her throat. He may have been unmanned, and he certainly was going to be limping for a while, might even earn himself a peg with that injury, if it weren't treated right, but he was damn well going to choke himself a bitch before the night was out.
 
Ethel smirked as he laid on the deck. Moving to pull the sword back and aim just for his chest but she grunted as he grabbed her wrist. She breathed in, the sword as pulled out and soon thrust into the other leg. Bringing her chest to chest with him and just at that second the same fear as before grew upon her face. But just as it grew upon her face, something else did as well. Her face began to grow a different color than.. tan. She cried out, her right hand still in his grasp and her neck in his other.

Her feet kicked, he was strong and was able to hold her with just his one hand. She choked out, her left hand grasping at his right wrist, scratching at it. Drawing blood with each nail she drug down his skin, she gasped in raggedly for breath and her head squirmed a bit as her eyes began to slowly roll back a bit. Her free hand now weakly moving, catching sight of the sword still in his leg. Her left hand grasped the hilt of the sword before pulling it out and without a moment wasted she thrust her left hand forward as hard as she could. The tip of the sword piercing right through his stomach as her hand dropped from the hilt.
 
Van Graaf was smiling grimly as her face reddened toward purple, squeezing on her neck and her trapped hand with equal pressure, causing almost equal pain. He was going to watch her life flicker out of her eyes while his hand squeezed her head nearly clean off.

Then he felt the sharp slicing sting as the sword was yanked free from his injured leg, and he nearly stumbled. A pain blossomed in his gut, and in his back, and he felt suddenly weak. He let Bonney go, just dropping her, as he staggered back and looked down, seeing just her sword hit protruding from his belly. It seemed to take forever for him to comprehend what that meant. And the blood, so much blood, he could feel it soaking his pants.

His legs grew weak, and could not support him. He fell to his knees, and barely noticed the sting of impact. Eyes blinking, bleary, he turned his eyes up at the recovering Bonney, looking (and feeling) more confused than anything else.
 
And just in the moment she gasped out for air, breathing in as her knees and chest hit the deck roughly and she coughed out. Though as she recovered, she heard his knees hitting the deck and she sat up slowly as he was kneeling upon the deck as well. Blood seeping from his stomach, down his legs and onto the wood beneath them, slowly streaming down towards her. Her eyes watched it before traveling up to look to him. His print of his hand was bruising on her neck every finger and tip showed nicely in red and purple.

Though her hand traveled down to grasp the pistol that lay on her side in her holster. Slowly pulling it out, she could see the dazed and confused look on his face and she stood up slowly. Feeling his eyes on her and she aimed the gun towards him, cocking it as it was aimed right for his forehead. "If there is.. a little bastard.." She sneered and pressed the cool steel against his pale growing face. "That little bastard will never be yours. And he will not know you ever existed." She pressed the tip of her finger to the trigger of the pistol.

"Go to hell." She growled before roughly pulling the trigger, but as she did so her eyes closed and turned as she felt the splatter of blood going across her chest, face and legs. She breathed in to hear the sound of a slumping body and she uncocked her pistol and stepped back.
 
The fight was over shortly afterward. The only survivors were those that had abandoned ship, and Bonney's crew was complete. Rather more bloodied and beaten, perhaps, but largely whole. After a short rest, they began the process of tossing the bodies overboard.

Bonney noticed Windslow was up at the ship's wheel, taking star measurements with the sextant. When she came up, he nodded a greetings. He was moving nearly normally by this point, shaking off the last effects of the drug. "We do have a problem. Sometime during the night, they changed course. We're now passing port right off the starboard, just over the horizon. And with the winds as they are this time of year, it'll take us a couple of days to get back."

He spun the wheel, sighing. It had been a rough night on him, as well; he'd seen all his friends either killed or forced to desert him. Now he was alone with a hostile crew. He looked Bonney in the eye. "Now, I suppose you'll be wanting the Laugh. She's a good ship, she'll serve you well. Just do me the favor of killing me in my sleep, would you? Rather less painful that way." He smiled to show he was joking, except that he kind of wasn't. A lot depended on her next words...
 
Hearing his words she managed to scrape up a small smile before she shook her head right afterwards. "I don't want your ship." She said and looked to him with a soft sigh and she peered down at her crew working amongst the ship now with his crew gone. Watching the bodies tossed off and she looked back over towards him. "Thank you." She said with a nod and swallowed, "Well for saving me and letting me crew out." She rested her hands on the railing in front of her by the helm and she leaned against it.

She could see one of her crew members picking up her clothing that rested just beside the chest, ripped and shredded by his knife and he gave a quizzical look and she bit her bottom lip. "Toss those.. I don't want those anymore." She said before turning to look back at Windslow and she cocked her brow. "If yer all right with me wearin' some of yer clothing for a bit." She said with a soft chuckle before she turned.
 
Feeling rather relieved, Windslow tied off the wheel for their new course, and stepped up beside Bonney at the rail. "You don't have to thank me. If I'd chosen better crew in the first place, we could have avoided the whole mess, stuck with the original deal. So it's kind of my fault, ultimately."

His musings were interrupted by her call down to her crew about her old clothes. "Ethel, you may have your pick of my wardrobe. I realize I'm not your size, but if I may be so bold, it does suit you." He almost blushed a bit, and kind of kicked himself for it. What was he doing? He had been a charmer now and again, not as much of a rake as some, but successful enough. Yet suddenly Bonney was making him shy as a schoolboy. That simply wasn't right.

Though... perhaps it's because he had seen her at her most vulnerable. He'd seen the naked core of Ethel Bonney at her weakest, and seen her come back from that, regain her strength and determination. That kind of knowledge of another person, particularly an attractive woman... well, it changed things. And now, he reacted to her differently. Not poorly, far from it. But different.
 
"But you didn't know, you can't blame yourself." She cocked her brow and she sighed before her face reddened a bit and she cleared her throat, opening her mouth to speak and she froze. Why was she blushing? She was Ethel Bonney, she was not one to get flattered and...giggly by a pirate, especially Windslow.. Though she looked over to him, "Yea? Thanks." She said and gave a light grin before she looked down and then back up, slowly over to him.

It was now that she was able to take a look at this man..she had to hand it. He was..sort of nice as he had saved her. But she realized how..attractive he was to her and she almost lost her breath. Her eyes looked him over slowly, taking him in and she bit her bottom lip. She had to admit to herself, he was handsome but just because he was handsome didn't mean he was as nice as he had seemed.

She had changed from when he saved her, she was weak scared and frightened that he might try something. Though she regained her strength and confidence in only a matter of what seemed like ten minutes. Her eyes dropped and she pushed herself from the railing. "Yer gonna need a crew, Cap'n Windslow." She said and moved over to the stairs that led down from the helm. Reaching the top step and she turned, "We aint got enough to get us a ship." She looked over to her crew who were working on cleaning up the ship. "Besides, I'm not fully ready to salvage a ship again just now with what happened." She scratched her head before touching her chin and moved a bit as she saw some blood. The knick from Van Graaf and his knife still open upon her chin and she sighed softly. She looked to him before she turned and moved down the steps and met her crew, as she began to help them clean up the ship.
 
Once maintenance was done, Windslow gathered the crew together, and, as he was checking wounds in his position as ship's doctor, he laid it out for them.

"We are two days from port, tacking in against the wind, as the mutineers were apparently going for a different port, perhaps one that wouldn't recognise the Laugh. Your Cap'n Bonney has been kind enough to volunteer her crew, you fine gentlemen, to get us in. They say the Forbidden Treasure is enough to make a man richer than the King of England; it would certainly make all of us very wealthy, especially combined with the existing shares of both of our crews. You might not each be able to buy your own ship, but a few of you together could easily purchase something nice."

"Cap'n Bonney is in charge of divvying up shares. I intend to keep the Laugh, whether or not Cap'n Bonney decides I earned a share. And I'd be honored if any of you sea dogs would care to stick around as well, but I'm sure for most of you, a lot depends on what Cap'n Bonney decides to do."

"The former crew's quarters are clearly yours, now. I'll be joining you, I'm afraid; I'm offering Cap'n Bonney my cabin out of courtesy for the remainder of the voyage. Now, it's been a long night, and I think we all need to get some rest, so let's draw straws for the rest of the night watch, and get to bunks."

Some of this was news to Bonney, he knew, and after watch assignments were determined, he puttered, wondering if she would come up to him. If nothing else, he hoped she'd come for a bandage for her chin.
 
Bonney nodded her head slowly as he spoke to her crew, some men sighing as he asked if they'd stay and some agreed right off hand. But wherever her crew went, she went as well and she stood there with her arms crossed over her stomach though her eyes widened a bit as he said he was offering her his quarters and she cocked her brow. Though soon everything was done and the men went back to finishing up their work and moving to the crews quarters. They left and he was still standing there, slowly moving over towards him. Her hand resting on her hips and she sighed softly, "I'm not taking yer quarters, Windslow." She lookd up to him and cocked her head to the side.

"Sure, I may be a pilfering, salvaging..brutal pirate. But this ain't my ship. You are the Cap'n of it still, til we reach port." She said and breathed in. She was never nice like this and she knew why, but she was being nice because he deserved it. For what he had done even though the drugs that they put in his system. He still managed to come out and get her. "I'll be staying with my crew. Or if you insist I sleep in your quarters. I will... on the floor." She tilted her head back up and cleared her throat, her hand running up to wipe away the small trickle of blood down her chin. "Can ya..?" she asked, pointing to the slice on her chin from earlier and she leaned against the railing as she peered down.
 
"Ah, yes, facial cuts always seem to bleed more." He dug into his kit and got some soft cloth and a flask of pure water for cleaning, and a small bandage and some gauze. He cleaned the cut while he spoke.

"I know you don't always like to have special treatment, but I do insist that you take my offer of my quarters. Besides..." He made an uncomfortable noise as he paused, although his hands never stopped working efficiently. "Besides, you've had... a rough night."

He cleaned the cut, and then put the bandage over it, holding it in place while he wound the gauze around her head to keep it there. "It will scab over soon, but keep this on the rest of the night, just to make sure. I know it's not as fetching as this season's latest hats, but it'll do."

He stepped back, closing his kit. "If the only way to get you to accept a little comfort and privacy is to share the cabin, that's what I'll do. But I insist, as a gentleman and the captain of the Lover's Laugh, that you get the bunk. I can string up a hammock and be perfectly content. But you ought to enjoy the linens and the comfortable mattress. You've earned it."
 
Ethel Bonney gave a soft sigh and she looked to him, "Fine." She said and shook her head, scratching the side of her head a bit as she pushed herself away from the railing of the ship. "I'll take up yer offer." She nodded before she slowly walked around him and moved down to where his cabin was and she stepped inside after opening the partially broken door, listening to it squeak as it hung open on it's two hinges, the middle one barely hanging on to it.

She peered around as the lanterns were lit still and gave some light in the room. She pulled off her own boots and set them to the side, making sure that he wasn't in here as she got undressed. Pulling off his pants and set them on the edge of the bed, crawling into the bed under the covers and she gave a soft sigh. Her eyes closing, he was right. It was quite comfortable and she snuggled up into the pillows as all she could smell was.. him. Though it smelt nice, rolling over she pulled the covers down and pulled her shirt up just above her breasts for a moment as she could see the bruising, the bottom of her breast was still cut and she sighed.

It was bleeding a little, but like hell she'd let him fix that. For now she'd let it heal on it's own and she pulled it back down as she rolled onto her left side watching and waiting for him to come in. But as she did, her eyes began to slowly droop shut and she fell into a deep and quite nice slumber, her hair messy as some of it lay upon her face and she let her sleep take over, she needed it.
 
Jack Windslow finished treating the various members of Bonney's crew, putting some on bed-rest for the next day, making sure they all were safe for the night. Finally, wearily, he came back to his cabin, being careful to slip through the door with as little squeaking as possible. He needn't have worried; she was out like a snuffed candle.

He strung his spare hammock, and behind a discrete curtain, he shucked his own boots and changed into a looser pair of breeches. Rubbing his face, he looked longingly at his hammock, but had to check on one last patient. Sitting on the edge of the bunk, he carefully folded back the covers, just barely, and moved a shank of her hair to examine Bonney's neck. The livid bruises showed the clear shape of fingers, and Windslow didn't like the look of them, but she was breathing easily and seemed all right.

He lingered a moment longer, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, one of his fingertips stroking her cheek gently. Asleep like this, one could almost forget she'd sacked cities and murdered dozens. But she was also a woman, and who knows what else she was capable of, good or bad?

He shook it off, feeling a little awkward, even though she was asleep. He stood and just about fell into his hammock, letting the woven ropes cradle him as he dropped right off into sleep with barely another breath.
 
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