It was early evening before Teague left the wheel and returned to his cabin.

"Hiya, Roxanne."

He hung his sword and coat on two nails by the door before stepping out of his boots, crossing to fondle the dogs ears affectionately.
"Stop growling at our guest Regan, it's rude," he murmured to the animal.

Roxanne returned his greeting, watching as he removed his hat, running a hand through his dreadlocks.
He glanced at her.

"You hungry?"

She nodded, suddenly realising she'd eaten nothing since leaving his house that morning.

He went to the galley and quickly fixed a simple meal for both of them, bringing it back to the cabin. Then lifted a dusty bottle from a shelf, uncorking it and pouring some of the contents into a tarnished silver goblet.

"Have ye ever tried rum?"

Roxanne shook her head and he passed her the goblet.

"I don't like it but it seems everyone else on this ship does," he said, watching as she took a cautious sip.

She spluttered. It was strong, though after a few sips, she got used to the burn and decided she liked it.

"Well?" Teague asked.

"I like it," said Roxanne with a smile.

They ate in comfortable silence, then he cleared away and sat sipping from a different bottle.

"What are you drinking if you don't like rum?"

"Wine," he replied, raising the bottle to his lips.
"I drink wine or whiskey instead."

His gaze rested on her.
"Are you feelin' alright? Seasickness is common among newcomers."

"I'm fine. I love your ship, it's beautiful."

Teague smiled.
"Thank ye. I fixed her up nice when I became her captain."

Roxanne looked around the cabin.
"Where do you sleep?" she asked curiously, as she could see no sign of a bed.

He rose to his feet and drew the curtain aside to reveal a surprisingly large bed with an ornately-carved mahogany headboard, complete with plump, comfortable-looking pillows.

Teague pulled the curtain back into place.
"You can have that tonight and I'll string meself a hammock."

"I don't want to take your bed!" Roxanne protested.

"Captain's orders," he told her sternly, resuming his seat, dark eyes holding hers briefly.

She nodded reluctantly, slowly finishing her rum.

Teague lifted the goblet.
"That's enough for you. I don't know how well you hold your alcohol and rum is fairly strong."

He took another sip of wine, then said, "regarding sailmaking, if you see any tears, loose stitching or anything else wrong with my sails, you're responsible for fixing it."

Roxanne nodded her agreement then yawned, running a hand through her hair.

"Go to bed," Teague said quietly.
"You'll find a shirt of mine in there, which you're more than welcome to sleep in."

Roxanne nodded, crossing the cabin to the bed and pulling the curtain over behind herself.

She undressed before turning back the duvet on the bed to find the shirt Teague had mentioned and pulling it over her head.

Roxanne slid into bed, her body relaxing as she snuggled under the covers.

The mattress was as comfortable as the one she'd slept on at home in the mansion, which was surprising on a pirate ship.
The covers and shirt smelled faintly of alcohol and something she eventually identified as gunpowder.

She decided she liked the smell more than the sweet perfume that coated her bed at home.

Burying her head in the feather pillow, she let the gentle rock of the ship lull her tired body to sleep.

************************************

Dawn was turning the sky light before Teague left the wheel and returned to his cabin.

He removed his hat and weapons with a sigh, stepping out of his boots.

Yawning, he ran a hand through his dreadlocks before lighting a candle, its flame flickering over his bed, where Roxanne lay.

The covers had slipped down around her stomach, her hair a tangled mess over her shoulders, the shirt exposing her collarbones.

He smiled as he took off his coat and waistcoat, unbuckling his belt but leaving his sash tied.
He decided to leave his shirt on, though he preferred sleeping shirtless but he was usually alone in his cabin.

Teague strung his hammock, then took a pillow that Roxanne wasn't using from his bed.
Getting into the hammock, where Regan promptly joined him, he wrapped a blanket around himself, letting the motion of his ship send him to sleep.

************************************

Roxanne awoke and sat up, pushing her dishevelled hair behind her ears as she looked around, remembering she was in Edward Teague's bed in the captain's cabin of the Misty Lady.

She got out of bed and dressed before pulling the curtain aside.

There was a hammock swinging gently, a dark head visible beneath the blankets.

Teague appeared to be asleep, his breathing slow and steady. He was curled on his side, facing away from Roxanne, almost completely covered by blankets.

The dog was curled against his bent knees, head resting protectively on its master's thigh, one ear raised.

She smiled at how peaceful he looked, then spun around as the cabin door was opened quietly.

It was Sahara.
"Good morning. I was hoping to catch you before you tried to wake the captain. He usually sleeps until about four bells in the afternoon and there's always a loaded pistol under his pillow, so if you startle him when he's asleep, you get shot."

"Oh."

"So if you'd like to come on deck you're welcome or you can stay here. It's entirely up to you."
Sahara smiled as she ran a hand through her hair.

Roxanne thought briefly.
"I think I'll come onto deck."

Sahara nodded and Roxanne followed her out of the cabin, closing the door quietly behind herself.

She breathed in the salty sea air, leaning on the ship's railings.

Most of the crew either ignored her or glared at her as Sahara swung herself up to sit on the railings, her long legs dangling over the deck.

"Join me," she said to Roxanne, offering her a hand.

Roxanne got up next to her, holding on tightly to the smooth wood, as the sea was somewhat choppy.

The sun in the rather cloudy sky provided no heat and she was grateful for her coat as she sat with Sahara.

There was a scrawny man at the wheel, his scarred hands wrapped around the spokes.

Sahara didn't look at him, but Roxanne noticed her posture tense slightly.

She gazed out over the white-tipped waves, tasting salt on her lips when she licked them.

Roxanne was already loving the pirate life.

************************************

Teague opened his eyes, yawning as he got out of his hammock.

He stretched, the crack of his knuckles breaking the silence of the cabin.

Then he dressed again, glancing over to find his berth empty and lifted a bottle of whiskey before leaving his cabin.

Stepping onto deck, he saw Roxanne sitting on the railings with Sahara.

He crossed the deck, uncorking his whiskey as he walked.

"Good day Roxanne," he said, tipping his hat.
"Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," Roxanne replied with a smile.

He returned her smile as he took his place at the wheel.

She walked over to stand next to him, watching as he checked the compass.

"What does four bells mean?" she asked after a moment.

"The ship's bell is rung to mark time. The time's always half the number of rings. Four bells is two in the morning or afternoon."

He took a sip from his bottle.
"Why d'you ask?"

"Sahara said you usually sleep until four bells," Roxanne answered.

"She's right. I'm rarely up before two, often not until three, because I'm usually not asleep until early morning."

Roxanne frowned.
"Why not?"

Teague shrugged.
"Habit, know what I mean?"
He chuckled, swirling the bottle's contents.

He corked it and dropped it into his pocket, hands coming to rest on the wheel again, humming softly as he guided the Misty Lady.

"Have you eaten?"

"No," said Roxanne.

"Sahara, ask Ciarán to fix breakfast for two please."

She nodded and dissappeared, returning bearing a tray.

"Thank you."
Teague took it and set it onto a barrel, pulling over two crates to serve as chairs.

Roxanne sat and ate her breakfast, washing it down with a swallow of rum, which she was already developing a strong liking for.

Teague ate slower, sipping something steaming from a tankard, his long legs outstretched.

They were silent for several moments.

Then Teague drained his tankard and stood up.
He returned to the wheel, while Roxanne wandered the deck, familiarising herself with the ship and it's rougher sway under her.

One of the crew halted her.
"There's your first job woman," he said, gesturing to a tear in one of the lower sails of the nearest mast.

Roxanne got a needle and thread, climbing the rigging to repair the tear, which wasn't any different to the sewing she did for recreation at home.

As she started her descent, she felt the rigging collapse, a scream escaping her lips as she plummeted towards the deck below.

The impact drove the breath out of her lungs and left her stunned as she lay limp on deck.

Slightly dizzy, she tried to sit up.
"Stay down lass, that was a hard fall," said a voice, a hand on her shoulder to keep her still.
"Captain! You should get her checked."

Roxanne blinked, the figure of a broad-shouldered man coming into focus.

"Thanks Seán, I'll handle it. Sahara, the wheel please."

Gentle hands eased Roxanne up into a sitting position.

"I'm alright," she muttered.

"Hmm. I'm gettin' someone to confirm that. D'ye think ye can walk?"

"Yes. I'm fine, slightly...winded is all."
She got up slowly, following Teague through a hatch and down a narrow ladder to below the deck.

She was escorted between the parallel rows of guns and the hammocks strung among them to a room at the ship's front.

Teague rapped lightly on the door.

"Come in Edward."

"How'd ye know it was me?" he asked, beckoning Roxanne as he entered the room.

"I know what your footsteps sound like by now."
The voice, accented like Teague's, belonged to a woman, the soft rasp of whetstone on steel mingling with her words.

The sunlight coming through the window glinted on the knife blade that rested against her forearm, the point at her elbow, fingers holding the hilt as her other hand ran a whetstone over the wickedly sharp blade.

After a moment, she set the knife aside and looked up, vivid emerald-green eyes running over Roxanne.

"Who's she?"

"Roxanne Sparrow. New crewmember who needs checked over after fallin' from the riggin'."

The woman stood up, gesturing Roxanne into her vacated seat.

"Soracha. Ship's doctor," she said, starting to examine her with gentle hands.

"Do you think you blacked out when you fell?"

"No," Roxanne said, sure she'd remained conscious.

"How'd she fall?" Soracha's question was directed at Teague.

"Sabotage. Riggin' wasn't stable," Teague replied darkly.

Soracha turned Roxanne to sit sideways on the chair, her hands pressing against her upper back.

"Ow," she muttered, looking around the room, which was quite cramped, containing a few narrow berths and the table below the window where she was seated.

Rough shelves lined the walls, filled with things Roxanne had never seen, metal instruments which looked like torture devices hanging on nails, which she eyed warily before her gaze shifted to a leather roll full of deadly-looking knives that lay open at the end of the table.

If this was a surgery, Roxanne didn't want to know what a torture room looked like.

"Here," Soracha's voice interrupted her thoughts as she offered her a little bottle.
"This should help. There's nothin' wrong, you'll be a little bruised is all."

Roxanne swallowed what was in the bottle as Soracha indicated for her to stand up.

The light from the window danced on the doctor's auburn hair, giving it bright, firey highlights as she sat, lifting her knife again.

"Ye can fuck off now," she said casually.

"Is she Irish like you?" Roxanne asked Teague as they left the surgery, the painkillers already helping the dull ache from her fall.

"Aye. She grew up down the road from me an' we've been friends since childhood."

"What's Ireland like?" Roxanne asked curiously.

"Like England but with less towns. It's very much countryside. I'll take you there if ye like."

Roxanne smiled. "I'd like that very much. I've never been outside England."

"I'm going to change that. I can show you the world. You can be as free as the bird you're named for here," Teague told her.

"That sounds good. I'd like to see new places."

His lips twitched into a smile.
"You're goin' to see a lot of them if you stay with me."

"Well I intend to stay with you as long as you'll have me," Roxanne said softly.

Teague smiled again, stepped behind her and put her hands on the wheel when they reached it, resting his on top.

His calloused fingers brushed lightly over her skin, sending tingles through her.
His front was pressed against her back as he looked over her shoulder, hands guiding hers.

The scent of gunpowder and alcohol filled her senses, making concentration difficult.

"Keep her steady," Teague's low voice murmured, his breath tickling her ear.
"See that mountain on the horizon? That's where you're keepin' her pointed."

Roxanne followed his gesturing hand to the mountain and nodded.

"Good," he murmured, fingers brushing her knuckles again.
Her hands twitched reflexively under his touch.

After a while, he stepped back and a bubble of excitement rose in Roxanne's belly as she realised she was steering the Lady by herself.

"What the hell's she doing at the wheel?" a crewmember asked Teague roughly.

"I put her there."
Teague's voice was firm, warning the crewmember not to challenge his authority.
His hand came to rest gently on Roxanne's shoulder.

"A fucking governor's daughter steering? Will we have a real dog at the wheel next?"

Teague's dark eyes flashed dangerously but his voice was light as he replied, "I'm sure Regan could steer as well as I can."

The crewmember scoffed in disgust.

"Back to work Charles," Teague ordered.

Roxanne was very aware his hand was still on her shoulder.

His hands then came to rest on the wheel.
"Go back to me cabin an' I'll be in later."

She paused, glancing at him.
"Can I steer again sometime?"

"Aye. Of course."

She found herself reluctant to step away from him, but eventually crossed the deck to the captain's cabin and closed the door behind herself.

Taking a seat on the bed, she sighed and sat waiting for Teague to finish his shift at the wheel.

Thanks to MaybelleMourier for editing the pictures at the top and being my beta again.

This chapter is dedicated to LeeannMor4 for all her amazing support on this story so far.