A lady in need-closed for DarkWarrioress

Andrew takes a long pull on the wine bottle. Wipes his face with his sleeve. "Enter if you must!" he calls out.

Amanda opens the door and walks in.

"So you heard the roar of our guns. And the smell of our smoke.We were lucky today! The filthy Spanish I hate there black hearts. Here we are flying under false colors. And they attack us under false colors. Its getting so you can't trust anyone.Haaaahaa"

Andrew puts the bottle down next to his hip and looks at Amanda. He starts to feel the effects of the wine, as the excitement of the day wears off.

"I would offer you some wine in my bed, but your to much of a lady for a meer pirate captain, so what can I do for you...that doesn't require me to get out of my bed?"

A hard rap on his door. She waited.

"Enter if you must!"

She rolled her eyes. Oh, this didn’t sound promising. Opening the door, she slipped inside, pushing the door shut with the bottom of her boot as she stood staring at the reclining figure with a bottle of wine. Her lips parted to speak but he beat her to it.

"I would offer you some wine in my bed, but your to much of a lady for a meer pirate captain, so what can I do for you...that doesn't require me to get out of my bed?"

She sauntered further into the room, pausing only long enough to push what papers and maps rested on the surface, toward the center of the table before she perched on the edge of it, feet dangling off the floor. Her palms were flat on the surface of the table, her arms straight and stiff, supporting her upper body as she regarded him.

“A lady to be sure and let me guess, the only way to share that wine of yours is if I crawl into bed with you? If so, no thank you, Sinclair.”

She canted her head to one side, her eyes regarding him assessingly.

“You’re not bad looking for a pirate captain, I grant you. I’m just not in the habit of sleeping around. So Sinclair, I see you got your ship out of that little fix by the skin of our teeth and nary a man lost. I congratulate you. So, what’s the plan now?”

sleeping around?

“You’re not bad looking for a pirate captain, I grant you. I’m just not in the habit of sleeping around. So Sinclair, I see you got your ship out of that little fix by the skin of our teeth and nary a man lost. I congratulate you. So, what’s the plan now?”

Andrew looks up. "Sleeping around? Who else would dare bed you on this ship?" He takes another pull on the wine and his eyes open wide as he brings the bottle down hard on the bed.

"Oh I know who that skinny little slip of a man.....David. I'll have his nut slit off! And I know just the man to do it! Tobias! He will rip the cod right off him and feed him to the sharks. He'll be no great loss "

Andrew pauses and looks at Amanda. "What?" He looks the bottle then back at Amanda and smiles. "I'm not that drunk, dear Lady Blake. And yes I do have a plan. Mr. watson tells me that the wind shift at the end of our little .....battle with the Spainard. Is a very good sign. He thinks that the NorEaster will cut our travel time by several days and that we could move closer to the coast. "

He pauses to clear his head. He closes his eyes for a few seconds. Then opens them."What it all means is that we may be in Jamestown in less then five days.!"

"Sleeping around? Who else would dare bed you on this ship? Oh I know who that skinny little slip of a man.....David. I'll have his nut slit off! And I know just the man to do it! Tobias! He will rip the cod right off him and feed him to the sharks. He'll be no great loss.”

Amanda rolled her eyes, hopping off the table before sauntering close to his bed, leaned over Sinclair and snatched the wine bottle from his hand.

"What? I'm not that drunk, dear Lady Blake. And yes I do have a plan. Mr. watson tells me that the wind shift at the end of our little .....battle with the Spainard. Is a very good sign. He thinks that the NorEaster will cut our travel time by several days and that we could move closer to the coast.”

“You may not be drunk yet, Sinclair but you are definitely working on it.”

She took a swig from the bottle and turned, heading back for her perch on his table.

“So, I suspect you will be looking to recruit more crew in Jamestown? And more fresh supplies, I am going to guess. How long will we be in Jamestown, Sinclair? I have a fancy to do a bit of shopping.”

Amanda hops off the table and moves close to his bed, leaned over Sinclair and snatched the wine bottle from his hand.

“You may not be drunk yet, Sinclair but you are definitely working on it.”

Andrew gives her a look of feigned shock, them smiles.
She took a swig from the bottle and turned, heading back for her perch on his table.

"Why Lady Blake, you are begining to act like a true bucaneer, soon you will be eating with your hands and breaking wind like the rest of us." Andrew smirks.

“So, I suspect you will be looking to recruit more crew in Jamestown? And more fresh supplies, I am going to guess. How long will we be in Jamestown, Sinclair? I have a fancy to do a bit of shopping.”

Andrew tips his head back and laughs out loud. When he done he shakes his head and gives her a half drunkin smile. "Amanda, I swear your a true pleasure to travel with. Shop in Jamestown?" He laughs again then gets thoughtfull as he looks at her. Then starts nodding his head.

"You know, we just might get you some native squaw dress. That will upset the ladies to no end. I could just see that. A down right scandal it will be too.!"
Andrew slids down the bed and sits onthe edge. In easy reach to his desk. He reachs over and takes the bottle from her hand and takes a drink and hands it back to her.

He looks her in the face and gets serious. "That brush up with the Spainard was unexspected. If it had been a Frenchie merchant, we would of been in good position and taken her as a prize and sold her first chance. We are lucky go have gotten away as we did. At most we will get five to six men in Jamestown if any."

occ: Just as a historical note. Virginia (royal colony) had a population of 27K (1660) about 1/3 of all English colonies.

"Why Lady Blake, you are begining to act like a true bucaneer, soon you will be eating with your hands and breaking wind like the rest of us."

Amanda had just re-perched on the edge of his table and gave him a disgusted look.

“I’ll never be that crass, Sinclair,” she glared at him, “eat with my hands? Distinct possibility however. I rather enjoy doing so in any case.”

Her glare turned into a scowl as he laughed her.

“What are you laughing at, Sinclair? I gather there are settlers in Jamestown, yes? And a few of them women as well, therefore, it is not completely out of the realm of possibilities that I could do a little shopping, now is there?”

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat there looking at her before reaching for the bottle and taking a swig himself. At least he handed it back to her.

"That brush up with the Spainard was unexspected. If it had been a Frenchie merchant, we would of been in good position and taken her as a prize and sold her first chance. We are lucky go have gotten away as we did. At most we will get five to six men in Jamestown if any."

She listened intently, nodding slightly. Raising the bottle to her lips, she took another swallow from the bottle. Her eyes narrowed. He made fun of her being a lady. She could have easily disabused him of that idea but she wasn’t going to. It suited her purpose far better for him to think of her as some prissy high born lady. Amanda started to lift the bottle to her lips and stopped.

“That few, eh? Too bad. You would think a man would jump at a chance to have an adventure and riches. I suppose it is the threat of dangling at the end of a noose or being outright killed that deters them.”

She took another healthy swig of the wine and made a face.

“Sinclair, when we get to Jamestown, I wish to go ashore, even if it is only to buy something stronger than this grape piss you insist on drinking. Surely there are men in that settlement and men tend to drink something stronger.”

grape piss ?

“Sinclair, when we get to Jamestown, I wish to go ashore, even if it is only to buy something stronger than this grape piss you insist on drinking. Surely there are men in that settlement and men tend to drink something stronger.”

Andrew closes his eyes and looks around. Knowing no one else was in the room. Then looks out at the darkening sky. "Grape piss, Lady Blake. Really?"
Andrew looks thoughtfull for a moment.

"You want some thing stronger? And you want to get it in Jamestown? Well...there are a few tea tottlers in the colony. Their high society tends to be a bit like Neiw Amsterdam. The taking of strong drink is frowned on, reserved to taverns and a few ale houses. Not unlike the establishment that we met in. "

Andrew pauses and places his hands on his knees and leans forward toward Amanda. "Lady Blake I have no problem with you going ashore in Jamestown. I told you a short while back that you are welcome to go ashore anytime you like. Jamestown is a good place to obtain English good. If that is what your looking for."

Andrew relieved her of the wine and took a long drink and hands it back to her. "As for the men, tha gallows deter many a man from crewing on a ship of the Brotherhood. I'm hopefull that between a couple of taverns I and Mr. Watson can find some good canidates to help crew the ship. Piracy is not the first choice of most men. There have been a few, even some good god fearing Englishman that took to the sea for riches, or glory, but rarely for the love of the sea or God, King, and country."

She looked at the recently returned bottle to her hands before glancing over at him.

“Then I suppose I shall have to frequent a few taverns to find the gut rot I rather be drinking. Until then, I don’t mind helping you drain your supply of drink.”

She crossed her legs and took another healthy swig from the bottle, this time emptying it.

“Oh dear, Sinclair. It seems I have emptied our supply. Got another hidden someplace? As for crew, yes, well. If one holds their neck dear I can see where it would be a deterrent even if they have a love of the sea and the greed for riches.”

Amanda watched him through narrowed eyes that were slightly hazed over by the effects of the wine. He really wasn’t such a bad looking chap. If it weren’t for the fact that they were going to be stuck on this ship for god knows how long, she’d be feeling tempted to fuck him. Well, at least that was the thought of the moment and she was pretty damn sure that was because of the wine.

She canted her head slightly to one side as she regarded him then grinned.

"Then I shall go ashore once we get there. I don't believe I have seen one of the new colonies before. This should prove interesting. How many days do you figure we'll be in port?"

"Then I shall go ashore once we get there. I don't believe I have seen one of the new colonies before. This should prove interesting. How many days do you figure we'll be in port?"

"Yes well the Govenor of the Royal Virginia Coloniies is not so friendly as the Dutch. And arriving with a warship will not please him either. We can not fly our flag, nor the Dutch one. Its a french design and a mixed crew so we will be fooling no one."

Andrew looks at the empty wine bottle and sighs. He shakes his head. "No more wine, all gone. All I have left is Andees Mountain Fire Water. Its from the Indians that live in those mountains. Strangly I got it from a French priest out side Cartahana. What he was doing there, is a mystery to me. I guess he was trying to covert the indians. Any way he gave me the bottle. He said it had stuff in it that grew in the mountains and jungles of Tera Firma. Far to the south. Its got stuff in it that drives men crazy."

Andrew looks at Amanda."What was the question? ....oh how long in port at James town, Yeah, I figure two three days tops if not less. Depends on the English.."

Lovely. Just lovely. Amanda hadn’t exactly found that bit of news encouraging.

“So what flag will be fly under, Sinclair?”

She arched a brow as she looked at the empty bottle.

"No more wine, all gone. All I have left is Andees Mountain Fire Water. Its from the Indians that live in those mountains. Strangly I got it from a French priest out side Cartahana. What he was doing there, is a mystery to me. I guess he was trying to covert the indians. Any way he gave me the bottle. He said it had stuff in it that grew in the mountains and jungles of Tera Firma. Far to the south. Its got stuff in it that drives men crazy."

Her eyes lifted to the man sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Andees Mountain Fire Water? Well, break it out, man. What are you waiting for. That damn little skirmish of yours didn’t do a damn thing for my nerves. Let’s try to figure out what’s in it, shall we? Unless of course, you’re not game? Perhaps I should go and let you rest. You know, recover from your ordeal as it were.”

Her lips turned into a sly smirk. She was not altogether sure of this Andees Mountain Fire Water, having never tried it, but she always could hold her liquor pretty well.

“So what flag will be fly under,

“So what flag will be fly under?" She askes as she lookes at the empty bottle.

Andrew puts his chin to his chest and looks down at the deck and sways a little. "A neutral flag! " Andrew pauses and looks at the empty wine bottle in Amanda's hand. He brings his hand up to his mouth and belches. "Sorry, a neutral flag we have several different ones from all over the world. I was thinking of one of the lesser known parties of the far East. There is a warlord from the island of the Nippones that is yellow with a red dragon on it. I'm thinking of using it."

Amanda looks at him. then replies" Andees Mountain Fire Water? Well, break it out, man. What are you waiting for. That damn little skirmish of yours didn’t do a damn thing for my nerves. Let’s try to figure out what’s in it, shall we? Unless of course, you’re not game? Perhaps I should go and let you rest. You know, recover from your ordeal as it were.”

"Ordeal, Lady Blake that was no ordeal, that was the swatting of a fly, annoying yes, an ordeals is what those two poor souls in the Red Dragon are going through with Moca and that sick bitch Becka back in Niew Amsterdam are going through. We are the lucky ones my dear Lady Blake. We may be a little rough on a preist or monk now and then. But trust me, those to guys are in a worlddd of hurt. Right about now."

Andrew slides off the bed and weaves over to the far corner of the cabin and stumbles and falls on the hull wall. He leans on the hull wall and bangs on a loose board. A brown earthen bottle drops into his hands and he catches it. He turns and looks at Amanda."No one knows I have this, not even Mr. Watson."

Andrew looks at the bottle."Yup, those poor guys, Becka..she likes to hurt people, now we are not pleasent, and I have put the sword to many a Papist pig. But, not her way!"Andrew weaves back to the bed. "That last bottle of wine had some troxy in it. Tastes the same, but what a kick!" He looks at Amanda and holds out the bottle toward her.

"Beware Lady Blake, this is the devils brew! I garrentee nothing from this point forward. We venture forth.....heyyy!" Amanda snatches the bottle from his hand.

occ: troxii-cocain Historical:In 1609, Padre Blas Valera wrote:
Coca protects the body from many ailments, and our doctors use it in powdered form to reduce the swelling of wounds, to strengthen broken bones, to expel cold from the body or prevent it from entering, and to cure rotten wounds or sores that are full of maggots. And if it does so much for outward ailments, will not its singular virtue have even greater effect in the entrails of those who eat it?[

She snatched the bottle from his hand as he came close again.

“Beware Lady Blake, this is the devils brew! I garrentee nothing from this point forward. We venture forth.....heyyy!"

His words fell on deaf ears however. Taking the bottle in both hands, she struggled to pull the cork free. It was either wedged in very tightly or had been in the bottle for a long time. Whatever the case, after struggling with it, she simply raised the bottle to her lips and set her teeth to the cork and tugged. It took a couple of strong pulls before she managed it. The cork sprung from the bottle with a rather loud pop, almost causing her to lose her balance and fall back on the table. Cautiously, she lifted the bottle to her nose and gave a delicate sniff. Amanda wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. Something foul smelling perhaps? It wasn’t. That was something.

“Guarantees? Who’s looking for guarantees, Sinclair?”

She raised the bottle to her lips and tipped it, waiting for the liquid inside to make contact with her tongue. How bad could it be? Fire Water, he had said. She swallowed the liquid, lowering the bottle then, waiting to see what would happen. Amanda held the bottle out to Sinclair.

“Your turn.”

“Your turn.”

Amanda held the bottle out to Andrew. "Your turn!"

Andrew takes the earthen bootle from her and sits down on his bed. He rests the bottle on his leg and looks at Amanda. " Lady Blake I'm starting to think you are no lady!You, you want me to follow you in, to hell. Well so be it then. What wasit the ole Roman gladiators say, Hail Ceasure because today we may die! Ah to hell with us all!"

Andrew picks up the bottle and takes a drink. Andrew is surprised by how easy it was to drink. The thought of fire water was going to burn him going down. He places the bottle on the deck between Amanda and himself.

He leans forward and farts and Amanda makes a face. Then he gets a little dizzy and sits back on the bed. And he starts to blink his eyes and the room starts to spin. He trys to stand up but falls over on to Amanda. She pushes him away and he falls back on the bed. The entire room is spinning now and the wooden walls turn a gray-green. Andrew tries to sit up in the bed and find Amanda. "Lady Blake.....whats....

She had expected the heat. Felt it course to her gut, leaving a blaze of fire in its wake. While she waited for something to happen, Sinclair took the bottle and took a much bigger swig from it than she did. She had opened her mouth to issue a caution. Too late. Her fingers reached for the bottle, wrapping around the neck of it as she watched Sinclair and couldn’t help snickering. The bloody fool. Can’t even heed his own warning.

Not a lady? She was insulted and she opened her mouth to do so. Of course she was a lady…. Most times. She…

Amanda swayed on her feet.

“Oh bloody hell,” she muttered, “when the ocean swells get so big?”

She staggered to her feet clutching at the table and kept missing it. Damn it all! Who kept moving the bloody table?

“Sin---?”

She squinted in his direction and saw three of him, falling back on to the bed.

“Sin....clair? Arrrsh you a’right?”

She took a step toward him. Didn’t she? She didn’t feel her legs move. Amanda glanced down. Yep, they were still there. Attached. Perhaps. She tried another step and found her legs had turned to rubber. Found herself pitching onto the bed, right across Sinclair’s lap.


She lifted her head slightly. The room was spinning there were these delightful wonderful colors on the wall.... or was it the walls themselves? What magic was this that they could change colors? There was a bemused look on her face.

the walls!

And then like majic. She is in his bed. In his lap, looking up at him with a bemused look on her face. Andrew blinks and opend his mouth"Lady Blake, your in .....myy..." The cabin starts to spin. And it looks like Amanda is chewing on his pants and trying to ripe them off.

"Lady Blake, my pants are not a meal for you......" and as he looks up the color of the wood that makes up the hull, changes to purple and blends into a blue and then the wood starts to bend and warp out of shape. Then he feels a sharp pain on his upper leg. "Stop biting me!" he calls out.

Amanda's head turns in to a large snake and a long thin tongue flicks in his face. He tries to backup, and finds the weight of her body to much for him. He tries to grab the snake head but find only open air. "You snke, you". Another pain, this one in his crotch. The snake is gone.

"Did you bite my cock? " He askes as the room starts to spin again. "Oh no not again!"

What was Sinclair squawking about now? Amanda lifted her head off the bed and suddenly wished she hadn’t. Not only did the room start spinning but all the pretty colors were now mixing together. Why the hell would anyone want to be squeezing her head like that for? She raised a hand and swatted around her head and why was she lying across Sinclair’s lap with her bottom turned up? Amanda squirmed, trying to sit up. Her palm landed on his crotch as she tried to pitch herself upright. She blinked. Did he just ask her if she bit his----

She brushed her hair out of her face as she struggled upright and then swayed. Her stomach heaving. Oh no. Facing him, she groped for his shoulders, her fingers biting into his flesh as she hung onto him desperately, pressing her face close to his and squinting.

“Sssshin—clar?” Her tongue felt like lead as it brushed over her suddenly dry lips, “wha’ da hell wuz in …” she swayed in his lap. Her fingers tightened, “dat bu…bottle?”

She pressed her nose against his. Now there was only two of him. Which one was the right one? She closed one eye and peered at him that way. Nope. That didn’t help.

Oh god… the room was whirling around them faster. She pitched forward, her chest pressing flat against his. Her face pressing into his neck with her eyes slammed tightly closed.

“Ma…make…it shtop…” she groaned softly.

Andrew closes his eyes and the whole room feels like it is spinning. Then suddenly the weight on his body shifts and his chest feels pressure places on it. Then the pressure gets lighter and then it seems to just melt away. He hears Amanda but her vioce is a thousand leagues away.

"What...what did you say?" He feels both exhausted and full of life. It like his arms are made of lead and he needs to move them. He opens his eyes and a blurry sight of Amanda with her face in his neck. He manages to lift his arms and they collapse around her. He manages a small smile.

"Hang in there dear we will ride out this storm together!" He closes his eyes again and the room starts to spin. "Hold on he comes anouther wave!" He closes his arms around her to hold her tight.


"Hold on Lady, hold on!"

He didn’t have to tell her twice. She wasn’t clinging to him because of whatever he was experiencing but because the room had started to spin for her again, this time all the colors swirled so fast, they started to meld into each other. Lifting her face from his neck, she blinked. The colors were swimming around the cabin. Actually swimming. The colors grew arms and were using an overhanded stroke to get around the room. Ohhh, this was much too strange for Amanda. She hid her face into his shoulder, closing her eyes tight.

God knows what Sinclair was experiencing at this very moment, but from what she could gather, it was just as wild.

"Hold on Lady, hold on!"

She was wrapped around him and had no intention of letting him go any time soon. The room had stopped spinning. Now it was like someone was squeezing it. The walls caved in. Just when she thought they would be squished to death, the room seemed to breathe and became normal, but only for a second. Amanda cautiously opened her eyes and peered upward. She decided she shouldn’t have. Colors faded in and out. Brilliant. Enchanting. She couldn’t stop staring. Her head tipped back, arching her upper body against his.

“Ooooh….. Oh, Sinclair. It’s beaaaaauuutiful. You should look. Look up.”

She blinked. Looked at him with glazed over eyes.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

She scrambled off his lap, looking for something. Anything. Her eyes spied the chamber pot in a corner and rushed toward it, leaning over slightly. Between the smell from the pot and whatever she ingested by way of drink, it wasn’t long before the contents of her stomach joined the murky depths of the pot on the floor.

She groaned. Loudly. Then lost what was left in her stomach. By the time she was done, she was pale and shaky as she stumbled back to the bed and fell upon it, rolling onto her stomach and burying her face in the covers.

She was never, ever, drinking that devil’s brew again.

“Ooooh….. Oh, Sinclair. It’s beaaaaauuutiful. You should look. Look up.”
Andrew opens his eyes. And sees only the beams that support the quarterdeck above them. They are grayish green are they twist and flow warping in to a mix.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” he hears as if it is a vioce in the wind that wraps itself in his head. He closes his eyes. And a great weight is lifted from him he feels light as a feather. He opens his eyes and he looks up briefly for Amanda. The roof warps to a purple flower with long white pistil. "Oh your so right, how lovely!" The flower moves closer to him it seem to want to draw him in. He moves backward. But finds only the hardness of the bulkhead.

Then the flower starts to change to the head of dragon and what had been a long white flower pistil was now a long red flicker of fire. Andrew scrambles out of the bed to get away from the dragon head . He trips on one of his boots he had taken off earlier and falls hitting his head on the sea deck.

When he wakes he is sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed. "Never again!"

"Never again!"

She stirred on the bed, wiping her face on the bed covers. Rolling over onto her back made her head pound. She groaned. Amanda tried to open her eyes but the effort to do so, hurt too much. She kept them closed, raising a hand to cover them.

“Oh god,” she moaned, “never again.”

The words, his and hers, bounced off each other.

“Sinclair?”

She tried lifting her head and moaned. Why was her head pounding so bad? Somehow, some way, she managed to roll over, pulling herself along the length of the bed by her desperate holds on the bed covers.

“Pssst. Sinclair,” she whispered, “is that you?”

Her head was dangerously close to the end of the bed.

“What the bloody hell just happened?!”

Her voice had gotten just a bit louder than a whisper, making her wince and then groan. Death, she thought, would be a blessing at this point.

Andrew tries to cover his ears as the roar of word slammed into his ears. His head hurt like it had been run over by a herd of horses.

“What the bloody hell just happened?!” he heard.

"I think we just sucked the arse of the devil himself. And he gave use a right large taste of hell." Andrew just barely manages to stand and turns to see Amanda laying face down in his bed with her head near the edge. He exhales loudly as if to exspell an evil from inside him. He leans on his seadesk and looks down at her.

"Now you see why I was reluctant to drink that devil's brew. There are just some things you don't do. And sucking on the devils hind quarter should rate about as high as you can get. And yet that is what we just went and done."

Andrew spin slowly to the egde of the bed and sits down next to Amanda. "That damnedable French preist gave me evil in a bottle. If I ever catch up with him again I'll have him licking bullock balls, I swear to god I will!"

"I think we just sucked the arse of the devil himself. And he gave use a right large taste of hell."

Amanda slowly rolled to her back with another groan.

“Speak for yourself, Sinclair,” she managed to mutter, “I refuse to suck on anyone’s arse let alone the devil’s. “

She opened one eye to locate his voice. He was fuzzy. She giggled and weakly pointed at him.

“You need a shave. You are fuzzy.”

The mattress on his bed gave way under his weight as he sat down on the edge of the bed. The motion caused a greenish tinge to surface on her skin.

"That damnedable French preist gave me evil in a bottle. If I ever catch up with him again I'll have him licking bullock balls, I swear to god I will!"

Her eye slammed closed again. She did have to admit to herself that whatever liquor had been in that damnable bottle, had indeed been some sort of devil’s brew. Sinclair’s last words made her giggle. Then moan. Oh gods, that hurt. Her hand shot out to grab the sleeve of his shirt as she yanked him toward her.

“Sinclair…” her lips found his ear… “stop talking and make this damnable booming in my head stop. This is all your fault to begin with.”

Sinclair stop talking and make this damnable booming in my head stop. This is all your fault to begin with

Andrew nods his head. "Your right, I should of stayed in Bristol and built ships" me mutters. He turns slightly and looks into her eyes. His head and his upper chest are on the bed.He closes his eyes then opens them. He smiles slowly. As if whispering into the wind he says to her.

"If it makes you feel any better, Lady Blake your fuzzy too. " With great effort he raises up one of his hands and makes a circling motion with it toward her body. "Yeah your whole body looks fuzzy."

He lays his head down followed by his fluttering hand on the bed. His hand bounces slightly and comes to a rest. He looks at her blankly. "I got nothing more to say."

Just imagining him, a pirate, building ships, sent her into a fit of giggles. Leaning up on one arm, she peered at him.

"If it makes you feel any better, Lady Blake you’re fuzzy too. Yeah your whole body looks fuzzy.”

That sent her off into another fit of drunken giggles. They stopped in time to hear him say next.

"I got nothing more to say."

She nodded solemnly.

“Good. If you did not shut up, I was figuring to shut you up.”

Her befuddled mind wasn’t exactly sure how she was going to do that exactly. She’d think of something.

“Now haul your arse up here on the bed, Sinclair. My eyes are starting to hurt having to keep them open to talking to you.”

Fuzzy as her brain was, she had to admit to herself, Sinclair was a fine looking male. He also reminded her of the fact that she hadn’t been fucked in ages. Well, maybe not ages, but it had been awhile. Her lips quirked. Her parents would have been livid and would have shipped her off to some god forsaken nunnery if they had known their precious little lady of a daughter wasn’t a virgin and hadn’t been for some time. Right now… she wasn’t sure if it was the devil’s brew or the fact she had been without, that made her loins stir.

"And Sinclair?" she hiccuped, "only one person has even suggested bedding me since I've been on this ship so you best be leave David's manhood alone. It was not him."

“Now haul your arse up here on the bed, Sinclair. My eyes are starting to hurt having to keep them open to talking to you.”

"I'll have you know...what?" Andrew listened like in a fog. She was ordering him into his own bed. "Your eyes hurt from talking to me?" He inquires. "Most exstraordinary thing to say."

Andrew slowly crawls up on to the bed. He stops when he's next to her. His mind is a haze as he looks at her. He props him self up on an elbow and looks at her.

"Funny my eyes don't hurt looking at you, Lady Blake." Andrew's head seems to float back and forth looking at her billowed shirt. It lays partly open and he can see the roundness of her breasts. He looks lower. Her pant are a little on the tight side. They cling to her showing her form quite clearly.

Finnally, he returns to look at her face. "It has been three years since a woman has ordered in to her bed. And never has any woman ordered me into my own. There was never a need. Now here we are. And I'm quite in a haze as to who is the spider and who is the fly."

He brings up an arm and rest it on her. His single finger slowly rubbing between her breasts.