The Cabin Boy - Part 3/4 By: DiAnn As the pirates approached to do their evil captain's bidding, Gentleman John raised his hand to halt them. "One last thing before you take him to the ship," the evil pirate captain stood staring down at his bound and gagged prey for a long moment before taking a small, wickedly sharp dagger from his belt. Mulder's breath caught in his throat as he saw the look of pure insanity in the man's cold eyes. The sharp blade hesitated over Fox's throat, the cabin boy gasped, never letting the dagger out of his sight. He closed his eyes tightly when the deadly weapon moved down to touch his chest above his wildly-beating heart. Mulder could feel the sudden sting as the razor-sharp blade pricked his skin through his nightshirt, he could smell the coppery tang of his own blood as it stained the fabric. Mulder heard Roche laugh softly and quickly opened his eyes, more afraid of what he couldn't see than what he might. The cold-blooded smile stayed on Roche's face as he turned back to his crewmen, "Now my precious cargo is ready to go back to the ship. I want to leave a little message in blood for Captain Skinner. After all, he should know who now owns his most priceless treasure." One of the filthy pirates threw Mulder over his broad shoulder, following his equally unwashed cohort out the bedroom window. He skittered easily down the rope to the ground like the bilge rat he was. The two pirates risked one quick look back up at the window before slinking off into the underbrush. Gentleman John turned back to the bed so recently occupied by his new cabin boy. The pirate reached into his pocket extracting a several items and let them flutter onto the bed. He once more removed his dagger, stabbing it viciously through the contents that awaited Captain Skinner on Fox's pillow. * * * "Captain Skinner! Captain Skinner!" Skinner turned from where he was overseeing the cook as he prepared a tray for Mulder, to see Langly running in through the front door, followed closely by Frohike and First Mate Byers. "What? What's happened?" The captain asked, alarm beginning to churn like bilge in his belly. "Is everything all right in here?" Frohike asked as he placed his hands on his knees, bending as he gasped for breath. "Why? What's going on?" "All the men posted to look-out duty have disappeared," Byers stated gravely. "Where's Fox?" "No!" Skinner ran for the stairs, the other three men hot on his heels. They entered the room to find the sheer, white curtains fluttering in the cool evening breeze, the bed empty. "No-o-o-o-o!" Skinner fell to his knees beside the bed, tears streaming unheeded down his face as he tore the dagger from his cabin boy's pillow and hurled it across the room. His fist closed around the three bloody items left there for him. The captain recognized the rough-cut heart as being a part of Fox's nightshirt. It had traces of wet, sticky blood still clinging to the edges. "I've heard Gentleman John cuts a heart like that from the shirts of the people he kills," Frohike offered, gaining himself a glare from both Langly and Byers. "Sir?" Byers lay a gentle hand on the captain's quaking shoulder. "I've got men searching the island. Maybe Gentleman John hasn't had time to get Fox aboard his ship yet." Skinner struggled to his feet. "You're right, I have to go look for him. I have to stop that madman from taking Fox from the island." "Well let's get going," Langly shouted, already half way out the door, the other men right behind him. * * * "I'm tellin' ya', Clyde, I'm thinkin' I hear somethin'." "It's just yer imagination again, Henry. You'd best be keepin' yer mind on hauling that pretty piece o' tail you got slung over yer shoulder back to the ship for the cap'n, and let me do the thinkin' fer the both of us." "Well, you just be watchin' my back, matey. I don't want to have to be explainin' to the cap'n how we lost this here boy for 'em. Think he'll be willin' to share this beauty with the rest o' us?" Henry snickered lustfully, waiting for an equally lurid remark from his friend. "Clyde? Clyde you still with me, matey?" Henry slowly turned around, his shipmate nowhere to be seen. "Clyde?" Henry whispered fiercely. "This ain't no time to be playin' one of yer little jokes." Mulder struggled over the big man's shoulder, grunting through his gag. "You jest shut yer mouth, boy. I got to get you back to the ship afore somethin' else happens!" Henry turned to flee, only to have his face crushed up against a solid brick wall. He yelped, stepping back to look up into one of the most handsome faces he'd ever seen. "Going somewhere?" The beautiful man asked as Henry stared into startling green eyes. The pirate felt the world slip away as he stood mesmerized, frozen in place. Lucius Hartwell stood waiting for Captain Skinner to show up. He had brought the missing Clyde to join his friend. Now they both stood dazed, waiting for their next command from the vampire. "Come on, Skinner. I don't have all night you know." Lucius tapped his foot impatiently, peering off into the underbrush. Mulder abruptly shifted his weight from left to right, all but toppling poor Henry, the cabin boy growling angrily from behind his gag. "Fox, by all that's holy, will you just shut up! It has to be this way." Mulder growled again, fighting to break free from the spellbound pirate's death grip on his thighs. "Henry, give him a good smack. I swear that boy could drive a saint to the rum barrel." Henry, ever the compliant minion, reached up to deliver two hard swats to the nightshirt covered bottom that lay so conveniently over his shoulder. Mulder yelped from behind his gag. Luscus walked around, taking Mulder's face between his hands, locking their eyes together. "Just calm down, Fox. I'm not going to hurt Captain Skinner. Believe me, I have a very different plan. Now you're going to be very quiet. No sound, no struggles, completely calm. Do you understand?" Mulder nodded his head at the vampire, his eyes wide and glazed. "Good, my beauty. I swear, without my special powers, I'd have to kill you just to keep my sanity. I gain more respect for Captain Skinner's remarkable tolerance every time I kidnap you." Luscus paced in small circles as he listened with heightened senses for the approaching search party. The vampire's head snapped us as the first sound of Skinner's commanding voice reached their little glade. Luscus took off his long black, silk cape, folding it neatly and hiding it in some nearby shrubbery. He waited until the searching pirates were almost upon them before springing into action. "Sorry about this, Fox, but it's all for a good cause." The vampire leaped from the ground with an astounding show of agility to deliver a devastating kick to Henry's brutish face. The surprised pirate went down with a loud grunt, the burden he had draped over his shoulder flying through the air to land in a heap at the foot of a giant palm. Lucius pivoted on one foot, coming around to deliver an equally stunning blow to Clyde's oft-broken snout. The man screamed as blood poured from his nose, falling to his knees at the vampire's feet. "Sorry about this boys, but you really should have left your hands off the cabin boy. It's not like Captain Skinner would have let you live anyway." The two pirates never knew what hit them as the vampire made a quick, bloody end to their worthless lives. Skinner and his search party came upon the scene just as Lucius finished up with the unfortunate Clyde. The relieved captain quickly took in that the man who had rescued Fox didn't need any assistance, and ran to scoop his unconscious cabin boy up into his arms. "We have to get Fox inside." Skinner said as he turned to Lucius, "I don't know who you are, friend, but would you be so kind as to accompany me back to the main house. I insist on an opportunity to thank you properly after I've seen to Fox." "It would be my pleasure, sir." * * * Captain Skinner sat by his cabin boy's bedside throughout the night. Reggie found him there the next morning, shooing him away to rest and have some breakfast. Skinner stumbled downstairs to find Byers, Langly, Frohike and Lucius Hartwell all sitting at the big table. Only Lucius rose respectfully to his feet as the captain approached. Walter shook the vampire's hand forcefully, "I can't thank you enough. Please tell me what you desire as your reward for saving Fox? Whatever it is, it's yours." "There's no reward needed, sir. It was my pleasure." Lucius managed to simulate a shy blush as he sat back down to further push the food around his untouched plate. "Nonsense, you must think of something. In the meantime, tell me how you came to be on my island. You weren't being held captive on the Severed Heart were you?" "No, sir," Lucius assured. "I've been on your beautiful island for quite some time. I arrived while you were at sea." "Humph!" Reggie came into the room, bearing a tray to take up to Fox. He glowered at Lucius, who gave him an innocent smile in return. Skinner rose from his chair, "Is that for Fox, Reggie? I'll take it up to him." "No you won't! You'll sit right down there and eat your breakfast." Skinner quickly sat back down, picking up his fork. "By the way, Reggie, did you notice those little, black pellets laying all over the white rugs in the front hall? What is that?" "My guess, Captain Skinner, is that those would be bat droppings." Reggie spared another chiding look for Lucius, who had suddenly become fascinated by the kiwi fruit resting on his plate. "Did we let a bat in the house last night?" Skinner inquired, confusion over Reggie's attitude evident on his face. "No Walter, didn't. It was more a matter of someone inviting it in." The captain's other eyebrow shot up onto his forehead. "Invited a bat into the house?" "I would my life on it," Reggie answered pointedly, gaining some satisfaction as he watched Lucius cringe. "Something else that's quite odd," Byers interjected. "We found all the watch guards packed in the outhouse together. Just standing there, shoulder to shoulder, staring at each other. It took us over an hour to convince them to come out. They kept saying they had to wait for permission. Quite odd indeed." Skinner's face became even more perplexed, "Did you question them?" "Yes," Byers frowned remembering the conversations. "They said they were to go into the outhouse and wait, but none of them could identify the person who had put this supposed," Byers ran a finger around his collar, noticeably uncomfortable with telling the captain what the guards had said. "This . . .uh, on them." "Now why do you think they would say that?" Frohike asked as he looked around the table wondering what the heck he was missing here. "Why indeed?" Reggie stared long and hard at Lucius, who had suddenly become enthralled with his sausage patties. "Uh, so captain," Lucius hurried to change the subject. "How is Fox this morning." "He's fine. He awakened soon after we arrived home last night. He's been sleeping since then. Mr. Hartwell, I don't have the words to thank you for what you did for me last night. If that evil old monster had gotten Fox aboard his ship I might not have ever seen him alive again." "It was nothing, Captain Skinner, really. I've grown very fond of Fox over the last few weeks." "You know my cabin boy?" "Everyone on the island knows him, sir. He's, uh, well a little nosey. It's hard to avoid him, even when one tries to do so." Skinner chuckled, "Yes, that's true I suppose. I find his curiosity and bizarre ideas quite charming." "Hum-m-m, so I've heard," Lucius mumbled as he examined the eggs on his plate, watching out of the corner of his eye as Reggie settled into a chair beside him. Just a little too close for comfort. "So where do you live, Lucius? You're not part of Mother Maggie's Holy Order are you." Reggie sprayed the sip of coffee he had just taken out of his nose as he sputtered and gagged dramatically. "No," Lucius glared at the older man. "Mother Maggie and I are not on speaking terms. In fact, she finds me quite repugnant." Skinner studied the snickering Reggie with interest. Perhaps the older man was finally reaching his senility. "She feels the same way about me, Mr. Hartwell. Since you don't seem to have found a permanent place on the island, would you consider staying here in the main house as my quest." Skinner held up his hand as it appeared that Reggie had something to say about that suggestion. "I insist." "And I accept, Captain Skinner, but just until I make some firm decisions about the future. I have some powerful longings that I plan to satisfy before I die." "Like that's some big worry," Reggie grumbled as he sipped as his coffee, his narrowed eyes never leaving the smiling vampire. "Well, unlike my grumpy former captain," Skinner shot Reggie another questioning look. "I think it's admirable for a young man to wish to pursue his deepest desires." "Just as long as the in question doesn't to suck the blood out of everyone else." Reggie growled. "Good morning, all." Modell strolled into the room, his usual smug smile firmly in place, "I'm surrounded by a bunch of early risers, I see." "That's it," Reggie threw down his napkin as his chair scrapped against the hardwood floor. "This gathering have turned into just a little more than I can take." "I'm here to stay," Hartwell hissed as Reggie rose. "What did you say to me?" Reggie leaned down to glower at the deceptively gorgeous vampire. "I'm sorry, Captain Purdue, I didn't realize I had to speak so loudly for you to hear. I'll keep your advanced age in mind the next time we converse. What I said was, 'Have a good day." Hartwell batted his long lashes at the irritated captain. "Humph!" Reggie huffed as he walked off in a snit. "I just don't know what's gotten into him today," Captain Skinner said as he watched his former mentor stomp out of the room. "I would think he's be grateful to you for saving Fox." "It's quite all right, captain. You've more than repaid me with your kind offer of hospitality until I get some other more permanent connections in place." "So you'll be staying with us? How wonderful," Modell leaned across the table, locking his eyes with those of the sublimely handsome young man. "You come to my room later tonight. You can't refuse my invitation." Lucius smiled, "And will you be offering refreshments, Mr. Modell? I often find myself quite famished during the evening hours." "Of course," Modell assured, his eyes running lustfully over the other man's body. "I'm sure I can satisfy all your hungers." "Yes," Lucius smiled broadly, "I do believe you can." Skinner shook his head, puzzling over this strange conversation taking place at his table, when he heard a sound at the doorway. He looked up to see Fox leaning heavily against the wood frame, something clutched in his hand. The captain rushed over, gathering the weakened man in his arms, helping him to sit at the table. "What is it, sweetheart? What are you doing out of bed?" "I found this on the table when I awakened. He has her." "Has who?" Skinner asked gently, as he petted Fox's thick, dark hair. Mulder raised his head as he opened his white-knuckled fist to reveal a sheet of paper. "It's . . ." Mulder swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. "He left a message for you." The captain took the offered scrap of paper with anxious hands. Skinner, I have your precious little boy and his baby sister, too. To the victor goes the spoils, old friend. Catch me if you can. Gentleman John Skinner's head snapped up. "You have a sister?" Mulder nodded his head sadly, "I left her in an orphanage in England until I could earn enough money to send for her." "Why didn't you tell me, Fox?" Mulder turned away from the hurt he saw in his captain's eyes, "You were being so nice to me, it wouldn't have been fair to further burden you with my problems. I was . . .I was planning to run away so I could earn enough for her passage. Then," Mulder looked up at Skinner through wet, spiky lashes. "After she was safely with me, I was hoping you would take me back." As Mulder broke down in heart-wrenching sobs, Skinner drew him into his arms, holding him tightly against his chest. "It wouldn't have worked, cabin boy. If you had escaped, I would have come after you with everything at my disposal. I could never let you go. And as for your sister, you had only to ask, and we would have gone to get her." "Now it's too late!" Mulder mourned into his captain's tear- soaked shoulder. "That devil has her, and I'll never see her again." "Gentleman John could be lying, Fox. We have no way to know if he really has your sister." "Ye . . .yes, we do." He opened his left fist to reveal a second cloth heart. This one had been carved from soft flannel covered in little pink roses. Skinner stared down at the cloth lying in his cabin boy's trembling hand, his eyes rising to meet Fox's. "It's hers," his cabin boy whispered as fresh tears filled his eyes. "It's Samantha's. I recognize it." Skinner pulled Fox back into his sheltering embrace, then raised his chin from where it rested on soft brown hair, "Mr. Byers, gather the crew, we sail with the tide." "I'm coming too." Reggie declared from his spot near the kitchen door. "Reggie . . ." Skinner began, his hand stroking Mulder's head soothingly. "Don't you 'Reggie' me, boy. I can still take you down a peg or two if I set my mind to it. I'm going with you, and that's final." "I'd like to sign on, as well." Lucius added, his eyes angry slits. Angry golden slits. A small fact Reggie realized that no one else seemed to notice. "Well, I won't be left behind." Reggie turned furious black eyes on Robert Modell causing the man to instinctively take a step back. "I don't think so," the older captain snarled through gritted teeth. "No," Lucius spoke up quickly. "I think we should allow Mr. Modell to accompany us on this voyage." The vampire smiled, his eyes riveted on the pulsing vein in Modell's neck. "I do believe Mr. Modell will prove to be most useful while we're at sea." * * * Skinner lay on his bed gently caressing his agitated cabin boy 's dark hair. Mulder was snuggled up as tightly against the bigger man's side as was physically possible, his head resting on the big man's chest. "You need to go to sleep now, sweetheart, the ship sails at first light." "Do you think he's . . .he's hurt her?" "Truth be known, I don't even think he has her, Fox. That man would lie to his own mother on her death bed. It's time you learned that not every one is to be trusted, my beauty." "I know that, it's just that . . ." Mulder was interrupted by a soft knock on the bed chamber door. Skinner quickly pulled the blanket up to cover his cabin boy's naked body. "Who is it?" The door opened to allow Lucius Hartwell to enter the room. Skinner felt his breath catch in his throat as the flickering candlelight caught the handsome plains of the man's face. "What is it, Mr. Hartwell? Has something happened?" "No," the vampire spoke softly as he moved closer, his eyes locking with Skinner's gaze. "But I think it's about to." "Lucius . . ." The vampire smiled as he shifted his gaze momentarily to the pretty cabin boy. As usual Fox fell under his spell almost immediately, his eyes taking on a unfocused glaze. "Just relax, my beauty. I won't hurt you or your handsome captain." "Mr. Hartwell, I . . ." "Lucius, captain," The vampire said in his black-satin voice. "You can call me Lucius. After all, we're about to become very close friends, you and I. Move over, Fox." Mulder scooted over, forcing Skinner to move closer to the edge of the bed. Lucius quickly stripped off his clothing, sliding into the bed beside the two men. The vampire immediately brought his hot, wet mouth to bear on Mulder's long, smooth throat. The cabin boy gasped as the world began to spin away. The vampire looked up at Skinner through thick, dark lashes, "Touch him, Walter. Let us make the pretty cabin boy wither with pleasure, and beg us for his release." Recognizing a truly inspired suggestion when he heard one, Skinner wrapped his big hand around Mulder's shaft, sending the cabin boy's hips arching up off the soft mattress. Moving his other hand down, he began to tease and stretch Fox's most sensitive opening. A hidden treasure that belonged to him alone. Mulder couldn't believe what was happening to him. He had never felt this much pleasure. Hands and lips on every part of his body. He would thrill to one sensation, only to have another, more intense touch wrench his attention to some other part of his overly- sensitized body. He opened his eyes to see his captain and Lucius Hartwell leaning across him devouring each other's mouths. And that seemed perfectly normal to his addled brain. They were both so beautiful. "Take him, my handsome captain. Show me how you make your cabin boy scream for you." Skinner quickly moved between Fox's legs, pulling at his hips until the ripe, round mounds of his bottom lay in the captain's lap. Wasting no further time, Walter slowly and carefully penetrated the cabin boy until he was fully seated inside his beautiful body. He watched as Lucius bent to take Fox's hard cock into his own mouth. These were the two most singularly gorgeous men Walter had ever seen - together they were breath-taking. The captain couldn't remember ever being this aroused, his head swimming with the sheer pleasure of it. Within moments Fox screamed, his eyes rolling back in his head as he collapsed onto his pillows. The contractions of his body, along with the incredible sight of the cabin boy's lustful face sent Skinner over the edge and into his own world of darkness. He awoke the next morning to find Reggie roughly shaking his shoulder. "Get up, Walter. Your ship is about to leave without its captain." "Wh . . .what happened?" Skinner looked down, relieved to see Fox's dark head resting comfortably on his chest. He kissed the younger man's temple, then gently disentangled himself from the still sleeping cabin boy to roll out of bed, standing stiffly. "I feel like I've been beaten. I ache all over." "Humph!" Reggie growled, as he bent to gently shake Mulder awake. "What's wrong with you?" Skinner asked. It seemed Reggie had spent most of his time in a fowl mood the last few days. "What's wrong with me? I'll tell you what's wrong with me, boy. There's bat dropping on the hearth rug. How do you explain that one, Walter Skinner?" The captain raised both eyebrows at the older man. He was at a complete loss as to why Reggie expected him to explain the sudden infestation of bats in the house. "Uh, I don't know, maybe there's a hole in the attic roof?" Skinner finally offered lamely. "If there's a hole anywhere, it's in your head, boy. Fox deserves better than you." "What?" Skinner was now completely baffled. What did Fox have to do with bats? "Reggie, I didn't purposely let a bat in here?" "Humph!" Reggie had finally gotten a sleepy-eyed Fox sitting upright in the bed. He turned to leave, not bothering to look at the captain. "You'd just best watch yourself, Walter, bats can weasel into places where no one else would dare to even try. Take care of your boy, the ship leaves in an hour." "No ?" Skinner muttered as he watched the older man stomp out of the room. * * * Get him the hell down from there! I swear we haven't been a sea an hour yet, and already I have to drag his ass down off that crow's nest." "He's looking for the Severed Heart," Frohike offered in Mulder's defense. "He's looking for another trip over that barrel," Skinner shaded his eyes as he looked up to the highest point of the main mast and his troublesome cabin boy. "I'll go talk to him," Lucius volunteered. Lucius put one foot into the rigging and then slithered up the ropes like a spider in a web. Skinner turned to his first mate awestruck. "Yes it's quite amazing," Byers offered. "I've never seen anyone who can climb a rigging like that boy, and he's amazingly strong, too." "Yeah, he's just a wonder to behold." Reggie grumbled sarcastically. "Jealous, old man?" Modell sneered from behind them. Reggie turned, placing a finger in the startled man's chest, jabbing harshly, "You stay away from me, and you stay away from the people I care about. I don't know what you are, but I've been around enough to recognize evil when I see it. Nothing would give me more pleasure than to chuck you back into the sea you came from, Modell." Robert Modell glared at the old captain with pure hatred. He just couldn't understand why this old sea-dog was immune to his powers. Seeing that he wasn't intimidating Purdue in the least, he turned sharply and headed for the other side of the ship. "Got a match on ya', boy?" Modell looked up to see a weather-beaten, old man standing at the railing beside him. The man looked to have been at sea for at least a hundred years, his skin brown as a berry, his face as wrinkled as a dried prune. He stood smirking at Modell, a carved teakwood pipe hanging lazily out of one corner of his mouth. "No, I don't." "Too bad, nothing like a good pipe full of tobacco to calm the nerves, sonny. My name's Stubby, by the way." "I don't care what your name is, get away from me." "You're in a right sour mood there, boy. Could it be that Captain Purdue has done figured you out?" Modell's head snapped up, "What do you mean by that, old man?" The ghost turned his head to look Modell in the eye. The younger man felt his blood turn to ice. "It's time you understood a thing or two, sonny boy. I don't want Fox to be seein' anything that ain't really there this trip. And that includes monsters, leprechauns, and anything else you might conjure up." "I . . .I don't know what you're talking about," Modell stuttered. The long-dead pirate suddenly disengaged his jaw to display a huge, gapping mall full of sharp, slimy teeth, his breath freezing the fear sweat on Modell's skin. Modell screamed in panic, turning to flee as he heard the old seaman cackling behind him. "Now what the hell got into him?" Skinner asked. "Has everyone on this ship gone crazy?" "Maybe he saw a sea serpent." Reggie suggested, his mouth turned up on one side. Skinner's left brow rose above his eye. "It might be best, Reggie, if you didn't spent quite so much time with Fox. I know he can be wonderful company but one needs to keep their wits about them while talking to him. That boy just doesn't see the world in quite the right way." "Like you do, you mean?" Reggie questioned. "Exactly." "I see. Well, I'll keep that in mind, Walter. Thank you for yet another of your written-in-stone pronouncements. I don't know what we would all do without you to give us the true as handed down by Walter Skinner." Skinner watched in utter bewilderment as Purdue stalked away, shaking his head in disgust. What the hell had gotten in to everyone today? Everyone knew that the things Fox talked about were just stories. A sign of an enchantingly overactive imagination. Didn't they? * * * "It's too soon to spot the Severed Heart, Fox." Lucius said softly as he clung to the ropes surrounding the crow's nest. "I've got to find her," Mulder looked into Lucius' stunning blue eyes, immediately feeling the world fall away around him. "I know you do, pretty boy, but right now you're scaring your captain and that won't bode well for you. Climb out of there, it's time to go back down." Mulder nodded, climbing out of his perch and into Lucius' waiting arms. The seamen below watched in stunned silence as Lucius wrapped one arm around Mulder's waist, and shimmied back down the rope, if anything even faster than he had gone up. "How does he do that?" Frohike whispered. "Do you mean how does he haul a man weighing at least seventeen stone down a rope with seemingly no effort, or how did he get Fox to willingly come out of that nest in less than two minutes?" Skinner asked, as he watched his unresisting cabin boy being carried down to the deck. "How come you're so strong?" Frohike demanded of Lucius the minute the man touched foot on deck. "Uh, it's a family trait." Lucius refused to meet the little man's inquisitive eyes as he handed Fox over to the captain. Captain Skinner immediately grabbed Fox's arm, turning him around to deliver several hard swats to his backside, as the cabin boy danced on the deck struggling in vain to maneuver his bottom out of harm's way. Smack! "I told you," Smack! Smack! Smack! "not to be," Smack! Smack! "climbing in that," Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! "rigging!" Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! The captain then pulled the thoroughly mortified cabin boy into a firm, secure hug. Mulder buried his flaming face against Skinner shoulder, unwilling to look into all the eyes that had just witnessed his public rebuke. Skinner held Fox away from him, staring into his red, embarrassed face. "Go to my cabin and take your usual position." "But . . ." The captain leaned in until his lips were touching Mulder's ear, his breath hot on the cabin boy's skin, "Or would you prefer to have your bare-bottomed spanking right here on deck where everyone can watch?" Mulder shook his head, turning to practically run below. "He just wanted to find his sister," Frohike reminded the captain sullenly. "And would you like a taste of my lash for insubordination as well?" Frohike swallowed hard as he also shook his head in the negative. "I thought not. This is a pirate vessel and I'm its captain. I will have my orders obeyed. BY EVERYONE!" "Yes, sir!" Frohike choked out between suddenly dry lips. When Skinner came down to his cabin about a half hour later he opened the door to find Fox standing with is nose in the corner. "Why are you still dressed?" Mulder didn't bother turning around, "I was hoping you would listen to reason. I need to be up on deck, looking for my sister." "So am I to understand that you plan to spend this entire voyage standing up on deck looking out to sea?" "The look-outs might miss sighting Gentleman John's ship." "And you think you won't miss seeing what experienced seamen cannot?" "Samantha's my responsibility." "As you are mine. And right now that means I'm going to warm your bottom for disobeying my direct order." Mulder bit down hard on his bottom lip. "I'm sorry, that wasn't my intention." "I know, sweetheart, but we're going into a very dangerous situation. Gentleman John is one of the most cold-blooded pirates I've ever known. I have to count on you and every man on this ship to follow my command without question. I can't allow you to disobey my orders in front of the other men, Fox." "I'm sorry, I did . . .didn't think." Fox said in a voice that was almost a sob. "Usually this type of disciplinary action would take place in full view of the crew as a deterrent to similar behavior, but considering your present state of anxiety, I won't do that." Skinner smiled as he saw Mulder's shoulders relax just a little. "We are, however, going to leave the cabin door open so that the men can hear each stroke to your bare backside, as well as your cries of repentance. And believe me, Fox, you will be crying before I'm finished with you." "Do you," Mulder took a deep shaky breath. "Do you have to leave the door open, sir?" "It's that or over the barrel, Fox. The men expect it. I may play favorites where you're concerned but I can't risk the respect of my men. That would be too dangerous for both of us. Remove your pants, sweetheart." Mulder felt sweat forming on his bottom lip as he carefully undid his pants, his heart sinking as he watched the captain swing the door fully open. He could hear the men talking up on deck. Soon they would hear much more than that from this cabin. Skinner sat down on a wooden stool, picking up a piece of smooth flat wood that he used to draw straight lines on his navigational maps. He smacked it against his hand making the cabin boy flinch at each loud swat. "Come here, boy, I don't have all day." Skinner barked, putting on a show for the men above. Mulder trudged over to his captain, getting there much to quickly to suit him. He felt himself being quickly pulled over hard, muscular knees, his bottom turned so conveniently upward. "I would suggest, brat," Skinner whispered so only he could hear. "That you allow the men to hear exactly how thoroughly I'm punishing you. I won't stop until you've convinced the crew that you are one very well-chastened young man." The captain rocked Mulder's body forward, raising his bottom another inch into the air. He rubbed an appreciative hand over the smooth, unmarked globes, causing a shudder to pass through Fox's waiting bottom. "For insubordination, Fox!' Skinner shouted as the piece of heavy wood came down with a resounding crack on the cabin boy's bare, defenseless bottom. "Ye-ouch!" Mulder screamed as a stripe of pure pain was painted across his butt. And Skinner was worried about him not making enough noise? This was worse than Reggie's strop. Well, almost. The wood fell again and again, as the squirming bottom over Skinner's lap turned from pale pink, to red, to a blistered scarlet. Mulder was able to take the first twenty whacks in a manner he considered to be manly enough, but then his resolved vanished in a haze of pain as a dozen quickly delivered smacks landed on one inflamed spot low on his bottom. From that moment on he cried, he kicked, he pleaded for mercy and he promised the world, all to no avail, as the improvised paddle inflicted his ravished bottom with stripe after burning stripe. Skinner stopped to inspect the frantically wiggling bottom over his lap. It was absolutely glowing, every inch covered with red, burning welts. He moved the wood down to visit the tender backs of the boy's writhing thighs. The kicking increased as Fox's howls echoed off the walls. Four more solid smacks right on the tender area where bottom met the now tortured thighs, and Skinner stopped. For his part, Mulder seemed unaware of the reprieve as he continued to sob pitifully, wiggling his red, blistered bottom over his captain's lap. Skinner rubbed his cabin boy's back soothingly until he felt his breathing begin to even out. He then gently turned the distressed man over in his arms, taking little pity on him as his scorched bottom came in painful contact with his captain's trouser-covered lap. "Just sit still a minute, I want to talk to you while this lesson is still fresh in your mind." "It's not my mind where your lesson was felt." Mulder pouted, that beautiful lip making a clear statement as to its owner's unhappiness with his present sore-bottomed predicament. Skinner picked up the length of wood again, "Your bottom may be well-blistered, brat, but if you persist with your smart mouth I could still do some damage to those thighs of yours. Will that be necessary, Fox?" "No, sir." Mulder presented his captain with his best wide-eyed, innocent look. "Humph!" Skinner growled and then rubbed a disbelieving hand over his face. Now Reggie had him making that irritating sound. "Don't pull any more of your tricks, sweetheart, or I'll go very hard on you. This is serious business, and I'm deadly serious about your safety. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir." "Will you promise to obey my every order from here on out?" "I'll . . .uh . . .maybe. Uh . . .what I mean is, I'll try." Mulder offered, batting his lashes as he looked up at his captain unable to muster even a hint of optimism in his honest, hazel eyes. "Dammit Fox, can't you ever lie a little? Just give me a little hope?" "Mother Maggie says that false hope is the devil's device. Stop! Stop! Please stop! I won't mention her name again! I promise!" * * * "Fox, please. You have to eat. It's been three days and I haven't seen you actually put anything in your mouth." Skinner pleaded as he sat across from the cabin boy, watching him push the food around his plate yet again. "I'm just not hungry," Mulder lamented, not even bothering to look up. "And what good do you think you'll be in a fight to regain your sister if you're so weak from hunger you pass out, and I have to rescue you instead." "No!" Mulder looked up in alarm, "You have to promise you'll do whatever it takes to get Samantha back." "I can't do that, Fox. I won't sacrifice you, even for your sister. I think you'd better eat and maintain your own strength." Mulder contemplated his captain for a moment, seeing not only compassion in those brown eyes but determination as well, he nodded and forced himself to pick up a piece of bread and a bit of cheese. The cheese had a small spot of mold on it. An outcome of their hasty departure from the island. The foodstuffs had set out in the hot tropical sun just a little longer than ususal. Mulder stared at the mold. Captain Skinner would be most unhappy, he demanded only the freshest food for his crew whenever possible. This early into the voyage there should not be mold on the cheese. Mulder remembered his time in the counting house. He hadn't even thought about the mold back then. He'd been so hungry he had scraped off only the most offensive patches, saving as much of the cheese as possible. He abruptly looked up, catching the captain's eyes with his sudden movement. "I know where he's taking her." "What? How?" "I don't know how? Sometimes things just come together in my mind. I don't know how it happens, but I'm always right. Gentleman John was hired to kidnap Samantha and me to take us back to Blevins. I'm sure of it." "But how, Fox? How can you be so sure?" "It only makes sense. Blevins used to question me incessantly about my sister. He even offered to pay her passage, if I would sign her over to him for seven years like myself. He wanted me and he wanted her. Now he's taken steps to have both." "It does make some sense," Skinner rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It makes complete sense," Mulder assured. "Gentleman John will have to come after me. He can't go back to Blevins with only half of his ransom." "Maybe he'll try to drop Samantha off at port before he comes after you. We might be able to catch him there." "Maybe," Mulder said doubtfully. "Tell me, sweetheart, what's your sister like?" "Samantha?" Fox smiled, "She's very bright and sweet. And such a docile and proper young lady. She never gives anyone a spot of trouble. She's always been the good one." * * * "Not up in that crow's nest again!" The captain shook his fist at the sky in complete exasperation. His crewmen, hapless enough to be standing on deck at that particular moment, took a weary step back. "Get that irritating creature down from there! Who let her out of her cabin anyway?" Gentleman John shaded his eyes to better see up into the far heights of the main mast where long, dark hair was blowing in the wind. "No one her out, sir. She seems to have picked up a few very unladylike skills while in that orphanage." "And just what would those be?" Gentleman John leveled his trembling crewman with a cold stare. "She can pick locks among other things. She keeps letting her nanny, or whoever that other woman is, out of her cabin, too. And that one's driving the crew crazy with her endless preachin' about the wages of sin." "Well go up and get that girl down. Tell her that if she doesn't behave I'll lock her nurse in the ship's hole. Blevins has promised a very substantial bonus for delivering the girl untouched but he made no mention of a chaperon. I should have run that old biddy through where she stood when she demanded to accompany the girl on board." Seventeen year old Samantha Mulder looked down to where the evil, old captain was shouting orders to his crew. She shivered. She didn't like the way the man looked at her. If it hadn't been for the protection of Mary Scully, she thought the man might actually have ravaged her by now. She wanted her brother. She had overheard the pirates talking about their attempt to kidnap Fox. From what they said, it appeared that Gentleman John would be far more interested in her handsome brother than in herself. She found that even more frightening than her own dire predicament. Fox was such a sweet innocent. Always worried about doing the right thing. Samantha was much more pragmatic. She would do what needed to be done and confess her sins afterward. Mary Scully always said that God was forgiving, and Samantha was the best proof of that fact. "The captain wants to speak with you, miss." Samantha looked down with distaste on the smelly pirate who seemed afraid to get too close to her. "If you touch me, I shall jump to my death." Samantha warned, having quickly ascertained that the evil captain needed her alive. "Ah-h-h-h, miss, don't do this to me. Gentleman John is a short- tempered sort. He's as soon cut out my gullet than look at me. Please come down." "Oh very well. Move away, you shan't be looking up my skirts, sir." The pirate nearly broke his neck as he quickly descended the rope, leaving Samantha to gather her skirts and demurely make her way back down the rigging. She was now glad of all the times she had snuck away from the orphanage to climb the orchard trees. Miss Scully had been outraged, of course, but it was serving Samantha well while abroad this loathsome ship. Samantha stood unflinching in front of the glowering captain. The pirates all stood back, fearful for their lives, while the young girl seemed unconcerned that she faced the most blood-thirsty pirate to ever sail the seas. "I do not understand," Gentleman John began in that deceptively soft voice of his. "I was told by Blevins that your brother assured him that you were the most gentle of woman. In fact, he said that Fox believes you to be the very essence of femininity. While you are in truth, A HOLY TERROR!" The captain's voice got alarmingly louder with each word he uttered. "And are completely disrupting my ship!" "There's no need to shout, captain." Samantha chided, showing no concern whatsoever for the captain's ill temper. "And as for my brother - He wants to believe." "Cap'n! Cap'n!" Gentleman John rolled his eyes heavenward. What now? "YES, WHAT IS IT?" The pirate bearing bad news stopped several yards away from his volatile captain. "That Mary Scully woman is preachin' to the crew, she's already brung two of 'em to the Lord. Wicked Willie and One-Eyed Dan are a' cryin' and washin' each other's feet. You gotta' stop her, cap'n!" "I'm beginning to wish I'd never heard the name Mulder. Take this one to her cabin, and make sure she stays there." Gentleman John leveled his crewman with a look. "And don't be touching her. If I can't have her, no one can." "Ye . . .yes, sir." Gentleman John hurried to the galley where indeed Mary Scully had set up a makeshift mission. "And just what do you think you're doing, Madame?" "Why, I'm merely passing on the word of the Lord, captain. Surely you can't object to that." "Well I do object," the pirate captain fisted his hands, desperately trying to maintain control. Blevins had promised him a fortune in ransom. More money that he could garner from a year of looting merchant ships. The man just hadn't mentioned what a trial it would be to earn the prize. "You object to the word of our one True God? Surly not even you could be that crass, sir." "These are pirates, Madame. They are supposed to be evil and blood-thirsty." He glanced over at the two motley pirates who were now sobbing with the joy at their new found redemption. "You're turning them into a bunch of sniveling . . . do-gooders!" "I'm turning them into righteous men, captain. My twin sister, Margaret, came to these islands over twenty years ago to dedicate her life to bringing lost sheep into the fold. How can I do less?" "You have a sister?" John's interest was suddenly perked, "Here in the Caribbean? Close by?" "Yes. Maggie has a mission on Sauve L'ile." John's face fell. He really wanted rid of this woman but could he risk a trip back to Skinner's island to dump her off? "Have heard the word of the Lord, captain?" "Henderson!" Roche shouted at his first mate, panic heavy in his usual flat tones. "Change course! We're going to Sauve L'ile." * * * "Fox, so help me, if you don't stay right by my side, you won't see the outside of my cabin until we return home." They had slipped into port under cover of darkness and an impending storm. Mulder now stood at the ship's railing, looking at the counting house in which he had spent so much of his last few years. A shudder ran through his body as he could almost smell the odor of dust and decay that permeated the old building. "I still think we need to lure him out," Mulder pouted, not bothering to look at his captain. The argument was an old one. "You turn yourself into bait, and I'll make you rue the day you were ever born, brat." "Captain Skinner?" The captain turned to his first officer. "What is it, Mr. Byers." "The scouting parties are back, sir. Blevins is ashore, but there is no sign of Samantha at either his residence or the counting house. And the Severed Heart appears to not be in port." "Dammit! I should have known it wouldn't be this easy." "He'll be here," Fox assured. "I just know Blevins is the man behind this." "Give the men shore leave, Mr. Byers. Tell them to ask around, see if anyone knows anything about Gentleman John or Blevins' dealing with the man." "Yes, sir." "I want to go ashore." "No." "You can't just say like that. You have to give me a good reason." Mulder sulked. "No I don't, but I will tell you this. You aren't going ashore because I can't trust you not to offer yourself up in exchange for a sister you don't even know isn't still safely back on English soil." "I wouldn't run away from you." "Yes you would, brat. Oh it wouldn't be deliberate. You'd feel guilty about it both during and after. You'd beat yourself up the whole time about your betrayal but you'd still do it. You'd run right into that vile merchant's arms, even knowing you couldn't trust him to keep his word to release your sister." "You make me sound like a fool." "Far from it, my beauty, you're brilliant and brave, but you don't stop to think of your own safety when someone you love is concerned. You'd gladly sacrifice yourself, and that's something I won't allow to happen. You mean the world to me, brat." Mulder looked down at his boots, deeply touched by his captain's words but still wanting to go ashore. A small group of departing seamen walked up to their captain. "We'll be leaving now, Captain Skinner." Frohike looked over at Mulder. "You gonna' be all right, kid?" Lucius Hartwell threw an arm around Mulder. "Don't fret so, cabin boy, Reggie and I are going ashore. We'll find out what we need to know. I have my ways." Mulder nodded, for once glad that the vampire was a little long on charm and a little short on scruples. "Just what do you hope to gain by this, vampire?" Reggie hissed as they walked away. Lucius looked back to where Skinner had pulled Mulder against his chest, rubbing slow circles on his back. "Them." "Seems to me you already tried that trick. I saw your calling card on the rug." "Normal body function," Lucius gave Reggie one of his most innocent smiles. "And besides they don't remember that night. Someday, in the not too distant future, those two beautiful mortals are going to find themselves in bed with one very talented and incredibly sensual vampire." "Anyone I know?" "Very funny," Lucius hissed sarcastically. "The next time, I'll not only let them remember their night with me, I'll make them long for more." "Humph!" Modell came staggering up behind them, pale and sickly. "Lucius, you said I'd feel better, but every night I wake up weaker than I was before I went to bed." Reggie glanced over at Lucius, his eyebrows raised high on his head. The vampire shrugged, "Hey a guy's gotta' eat." Lucius caught Modell's eyes with his own, "Just go back down below. I'll come to your cabin later, just like always." "Yes, Master." Modell shuffled off to find his way back to his cabin. "Master?" Reggie asked. "Well, if it weren't for me, he wouldn't be here. I think that deserves a little respect." "I'm the one who allowed him on board," Reggie reminded. "You want him to call Master?" Lucius inquired, his mouth turning up in a grin. "No, I want the worthless son-of-a-bitch to stay away from me and from Fox." "Done! And he isn't totally worthless, he makes a great midnight snack. Now come on, let's go have a little talk with Mr. Blevins." * * * Skinner was right. Mulder did feel guilty as he slipped over the side of the ship and swam silently to shore. He also felt scared spitless. He didn't even want to think about what the captain would do to him when he found out that his cabin boy had blatantly disregarded his orders not to go ashore. It was just too horrible to contemplate. Mulder's plan was to go to Blevins' house and offer himself in exchange for Samantha. It was a simple scheme, one that Captain Skinner would kill him over, but one he was sure would work. From what he had seen of the greedy merchant, married or not, the man would much rather cozy up to Fox than to his little sister. Mulder shivered at the loathsome thought, but there was nothing to be done for it. Just as he pulled himself up on the dock, the skies opened up and a cold rain began to fall. He shivered hard as he made his way toward one of the lesser used warehouses on the wharf, huddling miserably in a doorway while he waited for the rain to let up so he could continue on with his ill-fated mission. * * * Reggie squatted in the bushes outside the Blevins' house, waiting most impatiently for the vampire to return. He was soaked to the bone and becoming more irritable by the moment. He nearly jumped out of his skin as Lucius suddenly appeared in front of him. "Will you stop doing that! I'm an old man. You're going to startle me into an early grave." "You're too crotchety to die," Lucius squatted down beside the older captain. "He isn't in there, only his wife was at home. She was delicious." Lucius licked his lips as he waggled his eyebrows at Reggie. "You didn't!" "Just a little taste. She quite enjoyed it. I think she would have asked for my hand in marriage if I'd stayed just a few minutes longer." "Humph! Well your dubious allure aside, what do we do now?" "Let's just roam around town for a while. See if we can find someone who knows where Blevins has gotten himself off to." "Why the hell did it have to start raining," Reggie groused as he rose stiffly to his feet. "Need some help there, old man?" "You just watch your mouth, blood sucker. I'm not too old to . . ." Suddenly a ruckus started a few streets over. The sound of men running and shouting could be easily heard all over town. Lucius cocked a sharp ear toward the raised voices. "Someone told the town constable about the pirate vessel off their shore," Lucius whispered. "We have to get back to the Chauve Terreur before that mob does." "Great. Just great! What else can go wrong?" * * * "He's gone!" "What? How could that happen? I thought you were watching him." Reggie wrapped a strong arm around the distraught Walter's trembling shoulders. "He . . .and then we . . .and afterward I was just so sleepy . . ." "You just had to go and find yourself a pretty package of pure trouble didn't you, Walter. And one you can't resist to boot!" Reggie shook his head sadly. "I'm taking over command for a while. And don't give me that look, I promise we won't leave without your brat." "Mr. Byers," Reggie snapped, "are all the men back on board?" "All except for Fox, Captain Purdue." "Prepare to sail. We have to get further from shore before that mob arrives. They'll burn the ship if we let them. Pull the Chauve Terreur to a safe distance, then weigh anchor. We'll take a rescue party on shore tonight." "You're going to leave Fox there by himself for a whole day?" Skinner shouted, butting up against his former captain, trying to wrench the wheel out of Byers' hands. "You stand easy, cabin boy!" Captain Purdue roared. Skinner immediately responded to the tone of that command, stepping back, his eyes wide. "You will go to my cabin and wait for me there, Walter." "But . . ." "DON'T ARGUE WITH ME!" Skinner's face flamed red as he looked around at his crew. But none of them were laughing at him, instead he saw nothing but compassion and a deep regret that they were pulling away from shore without the captain's precious cabin boy. Skinner turned, stumbling numbly toward the below deck stairs. "And Walter?" The captain turned back to look at Purdue. "It will be all right. We won't let anything happen to your cabin boy. I promise." Skinner stared at the man he had trusted with his life for almost twenty years, nodded, and went below. They could see the torches on shore from where they moored in safe waters a few miles out. The civilians wouldn't dare take a ship out against the heavily armed pirate vessel or the storm chopped seas. The Chauve Terreur would go unchallenged. "Mr. Byers," Reggie turned to the first mate. "I'm going below to try to calm Walter. He's no good to anyone like this. I want you to sit down with your best men and come up with a plan to rescue that troublesome boy of his." Reggie shook his head. "And to think he has a sister. Let's just hope she didn't inherit his wilder genes or we're all in trouble." "The female is often the more docile of the species, sir." Reggie raised an brow high above his left eye. "And just how long have you been married, Mr. Byers? And to Black Jack Modesky's daughter at that. Surely you jest." Byers made a sour face, "I think I spoke in error, captain." "Yes, I think you did. Carry on, Mr. Byers." Skinner looked up miserably from where he sat on the end of the bunk, as his former captain came into the cabin. He let his head drop back down to study the floor between his spread knees. "I've lost him." "That boy needs you to get your head out of your ass, Walter." Skinner looked up startled. It wasn't like Captain Purdue to be quite so blunt or so crude. "You don't understand. I . . .I can't." "Yes you can and you will . . .because I'm going to help you. Get your pants down and lean across the bed, Walter." "What? You can't mean . . ." "Oh but I do. There's nothing like a good taste of leather on a man's bare butt to get him back on track and thinking straight. You'd best get moving before I really get angry with you." "You haven't whipped me since I was a kid. You can't . . ." "You're wrong, boy, I can and I will. You were mine to correct then, and you're mine still. Fox needs you and I mean to see that he gets just what he needs. Both now and when he's back on board this ship." "I don't see how whipping me with that blasted strop of yours is going to . . ." "Walter, why do you punish Fox? He's twenty-three years old. A strong, smart, fully-grown man. Why do you bother to discipline him?" "He needs a firm hand. I give him direction, I . . ." Skinner stopped, staring at his captain. Sighing in resignation, he undid the laces holding his pants in place and let them fall to his ankles. He turned, leaning over the bed, bare butt to the ceiling. "Hold on, Walter. It's been a while so this won't be easy for you." Reggie brought the old, well-oiled strop back behind his shoulder, swinging it down across his former cabin boy's waiting posterior. Skinner gasped loudly as a streak of white-hot fire settled into his hindquarters. He forgotten just how much this hurt. Reggie Purdue wasted no time laying lash after stinging lash on the squirming backside presented up for his attention. Skinner gasped and squirmed, trying desperately not to cry out his agony. He didn't want his crew to know what was happening down here. It all came rushing back to him, the long forgotten feel of subtle leather on bare skin. He found himself being transported back in time. A time when he often found himself in this all too familiar position while Reggie Purdue pounded away at his errant ass. The old strop was merciless, landing again and again. Covering every inch of exposed flesh until Skinner was sure he didn't have any skin left. Finally Walter couldn't take the onslaught any more. "Ah-h-h-h-h! Captain! Please sir, no more. Ouch! I'll behave, I promise." "I'll decide when you've had enough, boy." Reggie's strong right arm didn't even slow as he delivered stripe after burning stripe on Skinner's flaming buns. Walter was now sobbing pitifully, his legs kicking wildly behind him. By this point, Walter was beyond conscious thought, his total focus on the two burning mounds of flesh being so thoroughly attended to by his captain. He felt his thoughts churn, his fear and panic falling away as the intense pain in his backside brought a new clarity to his mind. "Reggie! Please stop! Ouch-h-h-h! I'm okay now! Oh-h-h-h! I'm okay!" Reggie paused, looking down on the captain of the Chauve Terreur as he squirmed miserably. "You ready to go find that boy?" The well-used leather flashed down on the sore bottom still turned up for further chastisement. "Ouch! Yes! Yes, I . . .I don't know what got into me. I'm fine now, really." "You," Smack! "better," Smack! "be." Smack! Smack! "That," Smack! "boy," Smack! "needs you!" Smack! Smack! Smack! "Yes, sir! I know! Oouhh-h-h-h! Really I do!" Reggie pulled the captain up to lean against him, a firm arm around the shivering man. "It's been a while, huh Walter?' "Not nearly long enough. I'll have to remember just how this felt the next time I punish Fox." "Now don't you be letting up on that brat! You best remember how this brought you back in line, that's what's important. The sting soon passes but the lesson remains. That's what the boy needs from you, not more coddling. Save that for afterward. Now, you get yourself put together while I go up and see what strategy John Byers has come up with to save your little boy's butt. Speaking of which, I gotta' warn you, Walter, that boy's backside is going to suffer mightily when I get my hand on him again." Skinner nodded, feeling a good deal of sympathy for Fox when he did see Reggie the next time. * * * Fox was feeling a good deal of sympathy for himself at the moment. He was huddled back in his doorway as far as possible as he wanted an angry mob of towns' folk shaking their fists and screaming at the Chauve Terreur where it lay anchored outside their reach. Mulder took a shaky breath, trying to pull back as the light from their torches intermittently touched his shadowed corner. If they found him here, they'd surely kill him. He gasped as one of the men turned, casting Mulder in complete light. Just as the man started to call out, the door behind the cabin boy opened and he was pulled down a short flight of stairs. He stumbled, grabbing onto the grimy brick walls of the warehouse as a furious knocking sounded at the heavy door. He flinched as strong fingers closed around his arm, "Sh-h-h-h. Don't make a sound. Chester Bonaparte knows how to get you out of here. Chester Bonaparte knows everything." Mulder looked down. It was hard to see in the dim light but from all appearances his rescuer was a young boy, probably not more than nine or ten. Mulder took a step back as more hands joined those pounding on the warehouse door. He turned quickly to follow the child to promised safety. They traveled down several long, dusty corridors before coming to another door. The boy lay his ear against the cold wood, then smiled as he carefully opened the portal onto a dark alley. "We be safe here." The young man announced, white teeth gleaming in his handsome face. "See, I told you Chester Bonaparte would save you." Mulder couldn't help but smile at the enchanting child, "And you, I presume, are this Chester Bonaparte?" The boy smiled even broader, bowing at the waist, one arm extended in a mockery of courtly manners. "The one and only. You are a very lucky man that Chester Bonaparte happened on you tonight. That mob, they would have killed you for sure." "Why? Do I look like a real pirate?" Mulder asked proudly. The boy leaned over hugging his stomach as he laughed. "You are just too funny! No, you do not look like a pirate. You look more like a drowned rat to me. But that mob, they wouldn't have cared. They have blood in their eye tonight. They would have killed you for no other reason than you were the only one around." "Oh," Mulder pouted. "Well, I am a pirate you know?" "You?" Chester laughed again. "You are the boy who used to be locked in old man Blevins' counting house." Mulder stared at the boy in wide-eyed confusion, his wide, hazel eyes blinking slowly. "You knew me?" "Not me, but you helped my grandfather once." "I doubt that," Mulder shook his head. "I never left that counting house. I couldn't have helped anyone from inside there." "Do you remember an old sailor with one eye and a peg leg? He would sit on the docks and beg for coins. At night he sat under your window while you told him stories?" Mulder ran his tongue over his bottom lip, thinking about all the old, forgotten seamen who used to visit him at night. "You know I do remember him. Always wore that funny blue hat. He would stay long after the others had gone home to find their beds." "You gave him your food. You would throw it down to him from that little window high in the wall." Mulder blushed, "I gave him very little. I hardly had any for myself." "All the more reason for my grandfather's gratitude. He would bring the stale bread home to me, and talk about the beautiful angel that was being held prisoner in the counting house." Mulder blushed more fiercely, "Really Chester, I don't deserve any thanks for sharing a few crumbs of stale bread. Anyone would have done the same." Chester laughed again, "My grandfather was right, you are an innocent. It's a good thing you have Chester Bonaparte to look out for you until your captain can find you." "How do you know about my captain?" "I saw him take you from the counting house. My grandfather was most pleased to hear about it. He died that night. I think it gave him peace to know his angel had finally been rescued." "I'm sorry, Chester. So who takes care of you now?" "Chester Bonaparte, he takes care of himself. And now, he takes care of you to. Come, angel, we go home now." Mulder shook his head, "I'm no angel, Chester." Another flash of perfect, white teeth. "Maybe we are all someone's angel. Come now, it's time to leave this place. Your captain will not come for you until tomorrow night." "How do you know that?" "I hear talk. Besides like I told you, Chester Bonaparte, he knows everything. Now come." Mulder stood in the shelter of the warehouse, staring at the door that Chester had just vanished through. If the boy was right and the captain was coming for him tomorrow, then he had to find Samantha quickly. He didn't really have time to be by the intriguing young Mr. Bonaparte. A small dark head suddenly peeked around the corner of the door. "Don't even think about it, Fox. Your captain would be most unhappy if you turned yourself over to old man Blevins. And besides, your sister isn't here. I already looked for her." Chester's 'home' turned out to be another rat infested warehouse a few blocks away. Mulder looked around at the dirty pile of rags the small boy obviously called a bed. There was also an overturned crate that served as a table for a small assortment of treasures. He was surprised to see a small gold cross lying amount the odds and ends that Chester called his sole possessions. Mulder carefully lifted the delicate gold chain, holding the cross up to catch the little light that could enter Chester's home. "It's very beautiful, is it not?" Chester beamed at his guest as he searched through another pile of what looked like trash in one corner. "Yes, it's very pretty." "It was a special gift from another angel. This one was all mine. She had the most beautiful hair, it was dark like mine but in the light, it danced with fire. Red like the sun!" "Where is she now?" "She sailed on a ship. Before we parted for the last time, she promised I would see her again some day. I don't think she would lie to Chester Bonaparte," The boy looked at Mulder with naked hope in his eyes. "Do you think she would lie to me?" "No," Mulder shook his head. "I don't think angels ever lie." The boy grinned from ear to ear, "That's what I think, too. Now, I'm going to share my food with you. It is only fair." The boy held out a moldy piece of bread and a dirty cup of water. Mulder tried not to show any reaction as he took the offering. "When my captain comes to get me, why don't we ask him if you can come with us, Chester. You'd like sailing on a pirate ship, and there's always plenty of food." "Yes, Chester Bonaparte would like that. Maybe if I am sailing the seas, I can find my angel." "It wouldn't surprise me at all," Mulder whispered as he leaned his head back against the wall, almost instantly falling into a deep sleep. Chester carefully removed the bread and water from Mulder's hands. "You sleep, angel, Chester Bonaparte will watch over you for your captain." The next morning Mulder hustled Chester out of his home early. He had a few coins in his pocket, and planned to buy the boy a decent breakfast before they did anything else. The rain had let up during the night, and a bright sun shown in a clear blue sky. Chester had not been boasting. He did know every nook and cranny of the village. At a homey little pub, they gorged themselves on fresh bread, cheese and sliced mutton, all washed down with the sweetest wine Mulder had ever tasted. Then the ever-cheerful boy took Mulder on a tour of a town he had lived in for three long years but had never seen. "Are you sure Samantha isn't here?" Chester sighed in exasperation. It seemed even he could have his lighthearted mood altered if driven far enough. "Yes, for the one hundred and one time, she is not here. You must look elsewhere. Chester Bonaparte," the boy thumped his own chest proudly, "he will help you." They were very careful to avoid the areas of the town that Scott Blevins inhabited. Mulder had never realized what a beautiful area he had lived in. It made him sad to think of his wasted time in that dreary counting house. They enjoyed another meal, Mulder having not realized just how much the gold that Captain Skinner insisted he carry on his person would buy. They were both well-fed and exhausted as they made their way back to Chester's little hide-away. Despite their precautions, they walked into a trap. Mulder had no sooner set foot inside the dingy room than he was lifted off his feet and slammed against a wall. His vision swam in front of his eyes as his head made hard contact with the solid bricks at his back. He heard Chester laughing. "You're early. I knew you could not wait." Mulder groaned from deep in his chest. Chester had betrayed him. It had all been a ruse from the beginning. The cabin boy shook his head, trying to clear it, as he looked up at the big man who held him so easily in place. Just as his eyes began to focus, he felt himself being shaken yet again. "I told you to stay on the ship!" "Cap . . .captain?" "Don't you me, you little brat. You'll be lucky if I don't take every bit of the hide off your butt for this little stunt." Chester was laughing again. "Unless you wish to end up with a dullard for a cabin boy, captain, I think you need to stop pounding his head against that wall." Chester's words seemed to get through to the irate captain. The shaking stopped, and Mulder felt himself set back on his feet, only to be crushed against a hard, muscular chest. "You scared ten years off my life, brat." Mulder used the last of his strength to pull back from his captain, his vision swimming in and out as he tried to focus on the beloved face in front of him. He managed two words, "Take Chester" before he passed out in his captain's arms. * * * Mulder was swimming up from the very bottom of the pond on their island home. The water was very warm and very dark but he wasn't afraid, he knew his captain was waiting for him on the surface. "I didn't mean to hurt him." That was Skinner's voice. Who did he hurt? Mulder hoped the captain hadn't thought that Chester was holding his cabin boy against his will. The long, dark lashes batted slowly, opening to reveal dazed hazel eyes. Captain Skinner's smiling face finally came into focus. "How are you feeling, my beauty?" "Are we at the pond?" Skinner chuckled, "No, I think that was a dream. You're on the Chauve Terreur again. And," the captain's face darkened, "you're going to stay here this time." "Chester?" "I'm right here, angel. Chester Bonaparte is a real pirate now." "Don't call me 'angel', Chester." Mulder croaked, thankful when someone lifted his head, a cup of cool water touching his lips. "Chester told me about what you did for his grandfather. You never cease to amaze me, cabin boy." "I never cease to anger you is more like it. I didn't find Samantha, sir." "I know. We'll find her, Fox. You have to believe that." Mulder nodded his head as he let it fall back down on the soft, inviting pillows. "I want to believe." Mulder lay staring at the dark, wood-paneled ceiling of the captain's cabin. He squirmed a little, causing the man snoring softly beside him to mumble in his sleep, pulling the cabin boy even closer against his warm body. It was now the wee hours of the morning, and Mulder had yet to relax enough to go to sleep himself. It had been only two days since his disastrous decision to go ashore without his captain's permission. Now that he was over the physical effects of that little adventure, he knew he was in for some well-earned discipline. Even though he couldn't blame the captain for being upset with him, he didn't want to be punished. And Reggie had hinted more than once that another trip over that barrel would not be unwarranted for, as Reggie so aptly put it, he had pulled. Mulder could almost feel that strap burning across his backside while the whole crew watched his naked shame. He squirmed again. This time, the captain grumbled in sleepy protest, releasing Mulder long enough to turn onto his back. The cabin boy grabbed the opportunity, rolling swiftly out of bed and placing his pillow where his body had been. Sure enough, the captain quickly pulled the pillow close, hugging it possessively against his massive chest. Pulling on his discarded clothing, Mulder silently opened the door, warily looking up and down the corridor before daring to take his leave from the captain's cabin. There was no one about at this early hour except the small crew manning the ship. Most everyone else was asleep in their beds like the good little, cut-throat pirates they were. The cabin boy crept to the top of the stairs leading to the deck. He very cautiously poked his head out just far enough to see just who was on duty. He hoped it was someone he could trust not to tell Captain Skinner that the cabin boy had been prowling around on deck again. The captain had made it painfully clear on more than one occasion that he did not condone about in the middle of the night. Mulder wasn't sure if it was in general that he objected to, or just that which was done by his cabin boy. To Mulder's surprise he couldn't see a thing. A thick, heavy fog had rolled in sometime during the night. Mulder continued up on deck, putting his hand out in front of him to find any unseen obstacles that might cause him to stumble and give away his presence. Once extended, his hand vanished from sight. He nearly jumped out of his skin when something landed heavily on his shoulder. "Calm down, Fox." Tom Colton's voice drifted to him out of the fog. "What are you doing up here without your big watchdog?" Mulder shrugged the offending hand off his shoulder, "Get away from me, Colton, I don't want any trouble from you. I just needed a little fresh air, that's all." "I've got something better than fresh air." A brown jug suddenly appeared in front of the cabin boy's nose. "Demon rum!" Mulder screeched, only to have a hand slapped over his mouth. "Sh-h-h-h! Yes, and be quiet or they'll all want some. Have you ever even tasted rum before?" "Well, no. Indentured servants aren't given a lot of hard spirits, and the captain prefers wine." "Well the captain in a man of sophisticated tastes. You, on the other hand, need to broaden your horizons, cabin boy, come with me." Mulder soon found himself tucked away in a snug little corner of the deck formed by the stacked dinghies, several wooden barrels and a discarded canvas tarp. He had sputtered and choked as the first sip of the had hit his throat. Since then, it had started going down a whole lot smoother. " . . .and then the captain takes off that big black, plumed hat of his and just sweeps it through the air, bowing real low like . . ." "No!" Mulder giggled as he took another long swallow from the jug. He would have to remember to tell Mother Maggie that she was completely mistaken about the evils of drinking. This stuff was good! "Yeah," Colton assured. "And then he just barely nods at the men who were holding Gentleman John, and they chucked the Severed Heart's Captain right over the side of the ship. Splash! It was great," Colton snickered from somewhere out of the fog that shrouded them. "Why didn't the captain just kill him while he had the chance?" "Well you see, cabin boy," Colton burped loudly, sending both men into fits of drunken tittering. "You see, Captain Skinner is an honorable man. He'd defeated Gentleman John, humiliated him in front of his crew, he didn't see the need to shed his blood. But," Colton added solemnly, "I'd a'done it, had it'd been me." Mulder swallowed hard as he leaned back against the side of the ship, his head swimming from the effects of the unfamiliar rum. He wished he could see Colton's face, but even from just a few feet away, the man was lost in the white mist. "You would? You'd have killed him in cold blood?" "I get rid of what gets in my way." Colton assured. Mulder frowned at the odd note that had crept into his drinking companion's voice. He set the jug down on the deck beside him. "Um-m-m, I think I'd better be getting back down below. I don't want the captain to wake up and find me gone. He worries." "Oh does he now?" Colton sneered, sending another wave of alarm up Mulder's spine. "Um-m-m yeah, I'd better . . ." The cabin boy didn't get to finish his sentence as something hurdled out of the fog, hitting his temple with a resounding crack. He crumpled into Tom Colton's waiting arms. * * * "Find him!" Captain Skinner bellowed frantically as he watched his crew scurrying around the ship looking for the missing cabin boy. "Calm down, Walter," Reggie put a hand on the captain's trembling shoulder. "Or do we need to have another discussion in my cabin regarding your attitude?" Skinner's head spun around to look at his former captain. "I'm okay, Reggie. I just can't believe I've lost him again." "I don't think it's so much that you lose him, Walter, as he just wanders off. That boy's infernal curiosity is going to be the death of both of you unless you find a way to curb it and quickly." "Don't worry, Reggie, if I find him this time, I'll teach him a lesson he won't soon forget." "I'll make sure of it, Walter. And we going to find him." "Captain!" Skinner turned at the sound of Langly's voice. "One of the dinghies is missing!" "WHAT!" The captain looked out to sea. The fog had lifted a little, but visibility was still limited to only a few feet beyond the ship. He looked up to where the crow's nest was hidden completely from view. "Frohike!" He called out frantically, "Can you see anything from up there? One of the dinghies is missing!" "No captain," came a detached voice out of the mist. "Thick as pea soup up here." "And I found this over by where the dinghies are stowed." Colton said smugly as he held up an empty rum jug. "Fox doesn't drink," Reggie eyed Colton suspiciously. "He was upset," Skinner began to pace nervously on the smooth, worn deck. "I had kind of threatened him before we went to bed. I never should have scared him like that." "Humph!" Reggie snorted, "Nothing scares that boy. That's the problem." * * * Mulder groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. Damn, his head hurt again. Why was he always getting thumped in the head anyway? He lay a hand on his throbbing temple, and slowly sat up. "What the . . ." He carefully turned, looking in all directions. He was in one of the dinghies adrift at sea. He remembered all the talk about Modell, and how noone but his witless self would have fished a lone man out of the ocean. He was doomed.! Shark food! He would never see his captain again! Mulder pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them as he buried his face. His head throbbed. He carefully lay down in the bottom of the boat, rolling to his side and curling into a tight little ball as he waited for the sharks to find him. * * * Skinner sat in his cabin, frantically going over his navigational maps. He was desperate to determine which direction a lone dinghy would have drifted during the night. He threw his compass down in frustration, lowering his head into his hands, hot tears filling his eyes. His head jerked up as he heard his first mate calling to him from the deck, his usually droll voice filled with excitement. Skinner raced up to find all the men gathered at the stern of the ship. The fog had lifted enough that a thin, taught, hemp line was now visible coming off the back of the ship, obviously attached to something on the other end. Two of the more husky pirates were carefully heaving on the end of the line. Byers turned, as the captain slid to a stop at his side. "The cook had put out a baited fish line last night, and it looks like it caught something a little larger than he anticipated." "Do you think it might be . . .," Skinner looked over to where the two men were gingerly pulling on the line. "Can't they go any faster?" "It's just a fishing line, sir," Byers looked at his captain with sympathetic eyes. "If it breaks, we lose whatever's on the other end." Slowly and painfully, the thin rope was pulled in until the bow of a small boat could be seen. Skinner felt his stomach come up to lodge somewhere in his throat. *Fox!* The captain's stomach dropped back down, this time landing in the general vicinity of his boots. As it was pulled closer, he could clearly that there was no one in the dinghy. Leaning over the railing as far as possible, he peered despondently into the mist. His stomach did another perfect somersault, this time settling in his heart, as he suddenly saw a long, familiar body curled up in the bottom of the tiny boat. Ropes were thrown over the side of the ship as several of the pirates swiftly shimmied down toward the water. All the yelling and commotion caused Mulder to wake, sitting up, looking around in amazement as several pirates hung in mid-air swarming around the small dinghy. They were all busy attaching grappling hooks to its sides. He raised his head higher, wide, hazel eyes filling with relief as he saw his captain smiling down at him. The small boat was laboriously pulled on board, the band of brawny pirates grunting as they toiled. The second the dinghy was safely on deck, Mulder found himself scooped up into sturdy, secure arms and carried below. * * * The cabin boys peeked out from between the barrels of the little hidey-hole that Colton had shown him last night. He was watching as Reggie Purdue supervised the lashing of a large, wooden barrel securely to the deck. The captain had been so relieved to have the cabin boy back that Mulder had spent the first several minutes after they reached the cabin being intermittently kissed breathless and swatted on his backside. Then he was pulled to arm's length for a very thorough examination. "How did you get in that dinghy?" "I don't really know, sir." "Were you drinking rum?" Mulder looked down, grinding his toe into the rug, "Yes, sir." "Who's responsible for this, Fox?" Mulder looked up, surprise in his eyes as he squared his shoulders. "I'm responsible of course. It was all my fault, sir. I'm twenty- three years old, and . . ." Skinner held up a hand to halt this all too familiar rhetoric, "Yes, so you've told me on numerous occasions. Well, you and I are going to have a long discussion about this matter later this afternoon. Stay in this cabin until I come for you." But of course Mulder hadn't stayed in the cabin. He'd been too frightened. He knew exactly how the captain planned to the matter with him. So he had snuck up on deck to see what was going on, and sure enough the dreaded barrel was being readied for use. Once the barrel was in place, and the crew gathered to witness the punishment, Captain Skinner took his place, shaking out the long leather strips that formed the business end of the cat-o-nine-tails. John Byers nodded once at the captain before turning to go below. Mulder's breath caught in his throat, his stomach churning. He took a long, deep breath trying desperately to calm down before he humiliated himself by passing out. He knew he had to come forward before Byers came up to tell the captain his errant cabin boy had absconded yet again. Mulder profoundly regretted his hasty decision to sneak up on deck, as it was now obvious that his blatant act of rebellion would only make things go worse for him. He took another shaky breath, having almost gathered enough nerve to climb out of his hiding place, when a large hand locked itself around his arm. He looked up into the peeved eyes of Captain Reggie Purdue. "Time to come out of there, little boy." Mulder hastily obeyed. Reggie keeping a bruising hold on his arm the whole time as if fearful the cabin boy would bolt at the first opportunity. "I'm not going to run, Reggie. How did you know I was here?" "I don't think you'll be doing too much of anything in the future that Walter Skinner doesn't know about, little boy. Now move, you're wanted over here at the barrel." "Yes, sir." Mulder straightened his shoulders, swallowing hard but determined to face his punishment with some degree of dignity. He looked around at the assembled crew. The last time he'd been whipped on deck, he had seen some compassion on the faces of the men. That wasn't true now. Today they looked excited, eager to see justice served in the form of burning leather on bare, unprotected flesh. Mulder felt dizzy with shame and regret. Reggie gave Mulder's arm a hard jerk. "Stand still, little boy. You're shaking worse than a main sail in a Nor-Easter." Mulder closed his eyes, taking another deep, hitching breath as he tried to calm himself. He wondered what they were waiting for? He opened his eyes to see Captain Skinner staring at him. His gaze was caught and held by those fathomless brown eyes. "Let go of me! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Mulder tore his eyes away from his captain to see Mr. Byers coming back on deck followed closely by two huge, grinning pirates dragging a struggling Tom Colton between them. The cabin boy turned his gaze back to where his captain still stood watching him intently. Fox blinked slowly at the older man, his face a mask of bewilderment. He watched as the corners of Skinner's mouth turned up ever so slightly. The expression was there and gone so quickly that the cabin boy wasn't certain he had actually seen that small, reassuring smile before the captain had turned his solemn attention to the approaching men. Captain Skinner addressed the indignantly protesting Colton, "You're accused of stealing rum from the galley, and intentionally putting the life of one of your crewmen in jeopardy. Have you anything to say in your own defense?" "I didn't do anything! I can't be held responsible for some stupid, worthless cabin boy who can't hold his rum and ends up falling overboard!" "With a knot on the side of his head as big as a goose egg." Reggie said. "We found that dagger over by where you so conveniently located the empty rum jug, Colton." "It's yours," the captain held up the condemning knife. "It has fresh blood on the handle. We also have a witness who saw you take the rum from the galley last night." All of Colton's anger and frustration suddenly came rushing to the surface, "He doesn't deserve you! It's me who should be sharing your bed, not a some little pretty-boy that you picked up in a rat- hole of a counting house. He doesn't know the first thing about being a pirate. Always running around trying to do the thing. Nothing but a baby-faced, little do-gooder. You deserve someone who understands your needs." Spittle flew from Colton's mouth as he blustered at his captain, "You deserve ME!" One fat tear escaped to run down the cabin boy's smooth cheek. *Colton was right, Mulder didn't deserve . . .* The cabin boy's head snapped up, hazel eyes wide with alarm, as the captain pointed a finger at him, bellowing loudly. "And you . . .so help me if you agree with one idiotic word he just said, I'll have you over this barrel with him. Got it?" Mulder nodded anxiously, his eyes widening even further. He shifted his panic-stricken gaze over to Reggie who was chuckling from behind his hand. "Tom Colton," Skinner's voice boomed across the deck of the ship. "You are found guilty on all charges and sentenced to thirty lashed with the cat-o-nine-tails, to be carried out immediately. Strip him!" The two pirates holding Colton smiled evilly as they quickly tore the clothing from the struggling man's body. Colton cursed the cabin boy, the captain and everyone else he could think of as his naked body was roughly tied across the wooden barrel, his feet dangling from where they were bound to the barrel's mooring ropes. The empty wooden barrel rattled against the deck as its unwilling occupant fought to free himself. The captain stood patiently watching until the condemned man had exhausted himself with his futile resistance. He lifted the whip high above his right shoulder, the nine leather tails seeming to stir with a life of their own. There was a flash and a blur as the whip snaked through the air, landing with a deafening crack on Colton's naked shoulders. The hapless man screamed as nine long, livid welts appeared across his skin. "One." Called John Byers, his a flat, dry monotone exhibiting none of the remorse that had been present in Frohike's unwilling count of Fox's strokes. Colton barely had time to get his breath back before the vicious whip was descending again, this time marking his bare, upturned butt with bright stripes of sheer agony. "Ah-h-h-h-h!" It appeared that Colton felt no manly need to hide his discomfort, screaming and cursing loudly at each stroke. "Two." Captain Skinner set to work with single-minded determination. He whipped the ill-fated man from shoulders to knees, paying particular attention to the tender, white buttocks, now the highest point of the man's shuddering body. All the while, the first mate coldly called out each stroke as it fell. Mulder closed his eyes. He wanted to put his hands over his ears so he couldn't hear the agonized screams that were coming from the well-beaten man lying over the barrel. The cabin boy now realized how easy his captain had gone on him during his own punishment. He had gotten little more than an embarrassing public spanking. This, on the other hand, was real punishment. Reggie wrapped an arm around Fox's trembling body, hugging him close to his chest. "Open you eyes, little boy. Don't waste your compassion on that one. He's a snake in the grass, and it's about time Walter caught on to his tricks." The cabin boy looked up to see Lucius Hartwell as he stood mesmerized, staring at the few drops of blood that had appeared as the tip of one of the cat-tails had caught a particularly soft spot on the outside of Colton's bare hip. There weren't many such spots; one on the base of the left buttock, another on the inside of a thigh. Captain Skinner, it seemed, was very skilled with his whip. Mulder shivered at the implications of that unpleasant thought. Fox had become convinced that this whipping would never end. His ears rang from the sound of leather on bare flesh, and the horrible screams coming from the suffering recipient. He wasn't sure Colton would survive such a harsh chastisement. "He'll live," Reggie hissed in his ear as if reading his mind. "Most of that screaming is for show. It won't stop Walter from doing what must be done. And it might even turn the boy around, though I doubt it." "Twenty-eight." "Ah-h-h-h-h! You bastard! No-o-o-o-o! Ouch-h-h-h-h!" "Twenty-nine." "Sto-o-o-op! Ah-h-h-h-h! I'll kill that damned cabin boy for this! You mark my words! Oh-h-h-h-h!" "Thirty." "Ah-h-h-h-h! I'll kill all of you! Ouch-h-h-h-h! Ah-h-h-h-h!" The captain let the cat fall to his side, looking down at the blubbering man as he lay helplessly over the barrel, his backside a mass of raw, flaming welts. "Leave him here until second watch." Skinner handed the whip back to his first mate. "I suggest, Colton, that you spend the time contemplating how to better serve this ship and its crew. But, more importantly," Skinner's voice took on a lower, immensely dangerous pitch. "Don't ever touch my cabin boy again." Skinner turned, grabbing Mulder by the back of the neck out of the protection of Purdue's arms, and marched him below deck. "Come with me, Reggie, we have one more bottom to warm this afternoon." Mulder blushed bright red as he heard a few of the crew snicker behind his back. * * * Mulder tried to bury his nose even further into his little corner of the cabin. He shivered as a warm breeze blew in the open porthole high above his head. He stood naked, his soon to be punished bottom perfectly displayed for the men who sat behind him calmly discussing his fate. "You're right, Walter, it's a very nice backside but I'd still take the skin right off it, if it were up to me." Reggie smiled as his words caused another shudder to run through Fox's body. "I agree that he deserves to be harshly punished, Reggie, I'm just saying I don't want to scar his pretty bottom. I enjoy looking a it too much for that." "Well, I wouldn't want to deprive you of your fun, Walter, so I suppose that means the riding crop and the cat are out. But something has to be done with this wild-child. Sneaking out of your cabin, disobeying orders, letting himself be thrown overboard by someone he knew he couldn't trust. It's a pure wonder that Colton put him in that boat first." "Don't remind me.' Skinner lamented. "I had Tom all wrong. I would have trusted him with my life." "And well you could have. You just can't trust him with the life of your brat. You know, I cut a nice switch before we left the island. Figured I be needing it for one of my boys before this trip was over." That grabbed Mulder's attention. Who else was on the receiving end of Reggie's strong right arm? He heard the captain break into a fit of coughing as he choked on the coffee he had been calmly sipping. "Uh . . .yes," Skinner sputtered, "That should keep Fox standing up for a day or two. First I need to address his going ashore without permission. When I'm done with him, it's your turn." "Agreed! Would you mind getting my switch from my cabin, Walter." Mulder was shaking again. He felt the muscles in his bare bottom clinch tightly as the men finally settled on what they considered to be an apt punishment for him. He heard the cabin door close as the captain went to fetch the dreaded switch. "You can stop all the quivering, little boy," Reggie scolded. "You deserve everything you're about to get and more. In fact, if you weren't the captain's darling little cabin boy, you'd be laying over a barrel right beside Colton this very minute." "Ye . . .yes, sir." Mulder heard Skinner return, then a long, agonizing moment of silence. "Come over here, Fox. I think a good over-the-knee spanking will suffice for going ashore without permission. Maybe next time you decide to wander off you'll remember how humiliating it was for a grown man, to be kicking and crying while he gets his bare bottom soundly smacked." Mulder slowly turned to find Skinner once again seated on the stool in front of his desk, patting his knee invitingly. Mulder reluctantly forced himself to cross the room, lowering his body over his captain's lap. He glanced up to see Reggie watching him. He was mortified that the older man was going to be a witness to him being spanked like a child. Skinner wasted little time. He trapped Mulder's cock and balls between his strong thighs, forcing the cabin boy to spread his legs, fully exposing every inch of his bottom for the captain's punishing hand. The first smack burned like fire. The cabin boy squeezed his eyes shut, grabbing hold of the captain's leg for support as the big, punishing hand came down again and again on his bare butt. "You will not," Smack! Smack! "disobey," Smack! Smack! Smack! "my orders," Smack! Smack! "again!" Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Mulder's bottom was on fire within a matter of seconds. He gasped as the firm, determined hand visited first one cheek and then the other. The cabin boy barely had time to feel the sting of one hard slap before another was landing on his tormented bottom. Tears began to drip off the end of his nose, forming a dismal little puddle on the floor below, as he fought desperately to keep the sobs from escaping his lips. Skinner moved down to the backs of the tender thighs, turning them as red as the bottom he had just attended. Mulder howled. The captain, unmoved by his cabin boy's dire distress, began to slap the inside of the right thigh. Mulder screamed, moving his legs together to protect the overly-sensitive area. Skinner paused to roughly shove his legs back apart. "Leave them open or I'll make you wish you had." Mulder tried, he really did, but Skinner was still working on the inside of that right thigh and the sting was unbearable. The cabin boy pulled his legs back together. This time, the captain didn't say a word, he just moved his hand up to pull the deep crevice dividing the two scorched buttocks apart, and began slapping the delicate flesh that he found within. Mulder panicked. He threw his head up, howling his anguish to the ceiling. Finally getting his body to respond to his brain's urgent commands, he spread his legs widely apart, surrendering his thighs in rueful exchange for Skinner's newfound target, one that must be protected at all cost. The captain immediately switched his attention back to the inside of that tortured right thigh, pulling the skin taught as he slapped at the soft skin. Once he was satisfied that the area had been thoroughly blistered, he concentrated his efforts on the inside of the left thigh. He gave it the same intensive treatment, deftly ignoring his cabin boy's pleas for mercy as Fox valiantly kept his legs spread wide, unwillingly assisting in his own torture. Mulder sobbed, begged, promised, and pleaded, not caring that the men on deck could hear his suffering. Not caring that Reggie was watching him wiggle and cry like a five year old over his papa's knee. The only thing he cared about was the rise and fall of Skinner's fiery hand. The captain was burning him up! Finally Skinner abandoned the flaming thighs to turn his unwanted attention back to the patiently waiting bottom, applying yet another stinging round of slaps to the red-hot, sore mounds. At long last, Mulder lay limply over his captain's knee, his body jerking with each new slap, his crying a steady declaration of his absolute misery. "Are you ever going to disobey me again?" Smack! Smack! Smack! "No! No, never. Ah-h-h-h! I promise! I promise!" "This is the worst spanking I've ever given you, Fox." Smack! Smack! Smack! "Do you know why that is?" "Ouch! Oh! Please! Life . . .danger!" "That's exactly right!' Skinner applied several more blistering smacks to the fleshiest part of each buttock. "I hope you remember this for a long time!" "Ouch-h-h-h! I will! I will!" Skinner stopped, "And once Reggie has applied his switch to these," Skinner patted the flaming globes causing the cabin boy to hiss in pain. "I really think you'll not want to sit down for quite some time, let alone get into any trouble." "Please, sir, I can't take the switch right now." Skinner rose, pulling the cabin boy with him. He kissed Fox soundly, then carefully deposited him bent over the desk. "You can and you will. It'll all be over soon, brat. I'll let you lay here for a little while and cool down before we proceed." Mulder's face flamed brighter than his butt as the two men took a seat behind him, talking of mundane affairs as they watched his scarlet bottom smoldering in the afternoon sun that filtered in through the open portholes. Mulder sniffed, feeling very sorry for himself. His bottom was too sore to touch, let alone to have a switch applied to it. Then he thought of Tom Colton who would be spending hours lying up on deck, raw and skinned from neck to knees. Reggie was right, the cabin boy was getting off easy. Fox's heart leapt as he heard a knock at the door. He didn't dare turn to see who had been admitted to witness his shame. He heard several voices talking softly, he was sure one of the men was John Byers. "We need to finish this up, Fox." Skinner rubbed his back soothingly. "A ship has been spotted off starboard. It could be the Severed Heart." Mulder started to rise, "My sister!" "No Fox." Skinner pushed him gently back down onto the desk. "You're going to get the rest of your punishment and then you're going to be restricted to this cabin. Gentleman John is a dangerous man and I don't want him anywhere near you. Maybe if your bottom is sore enough, you'll obey my orders for a change. Are you ready, Reggie?" Skinner kept his hand planted firmly in the small of Mulder's back as the older captain came to stand behind the doomed man. The switch he held in his hand was short, only about eighteen inches long, thin and pliable. It would do little more than sting mightily. "I'm going to give you six. Hold on tight and try not to move. You're really going to feel these on that well-roasted butt of yours, little boy. Maybe the next time you decide you need to go ashore, you'll wait for permission." The cabin boy choked back a sob as he heard an ominous swish behind him, then his backside burst into white-hot flames. Nothing had prepared him for such anguish. He cried out, trying desperately to stand up. Anything to get his bottom out of the path of that horrible switch. Skinner's big hand held him tightly pressed against the desk, his burning butt an easy target for the next stroke of the highly effective little switch. The switch sang through the air again to land only an inch below the last fiery welt. Mulder screamed, thrashing on the table. "I swear, Fox," Reggie growled, trying desperately to hide the effect Fox's tears were having on him. "Punishing you is a trial in itself. One more than then I'll quit. I wouldn't want your soft- hearted captain here to all red-eyed and weepy when confronts Gentleman John. Whether or not I give you the other three lashes later will depend on whether you listen to Walter and stay in this cabin like he told you to do. You got that, little boy?" "Ye . . .yes, sir!" The switch flashed again, painting another excruciating stripe across the already red bottom in its path. Mulder screamed once more, sobbing his heart out onto Skinner's polished desk. The captain gently pulled his distraught cabin boy up into his arms, his own eyes glistening as he placed small, loving kisses all over Fox's tear-stained face. "I don't like to punish you like that, brat. Don't make me have to do it again. It hurts me worse than it hurts you." Mulder's head snapped up, wide incredulous eyes staring at the captain as if the other man had suddenly gone mad. "It does hurt me, brat," Skinner said defensively, then smiled evilly. "It's just that my hurt won't keep me from sitting down for the next few days." He gave his cabin boy another quick kiss before leading him over to lie face down on the bed. "Reggie, would you mind staying with him?" "Of course not," the older captain growled. "Why would I mind missing all the fun of a good fight while I stay down here watching over your brat like some damned wet-nurse." "Reggie . . ." "Oh go on with you. I'll take good care of him." The minute the captain had closed the door behind him, Reggie, got out the tin of ointment. He carefully smoothed the vile- smelling stuff over the cabin boy's hot, exposed butt. Mulder whimpered, looking over his shoulder, bottom lip trembling pitifully. "Save that for Walter, little boy." His gentle fingers contradicting the growl in his voice. "You know, part of your problem is that you just look like you need a good smack on the bottom. It wouldn't surprise me to learn that you spent most of your childhood upended over somebody's knee." "Not . . .not really, sir. My dad used to punish me sometimes. He never spanked Sam though. I . . .I used to take the blame for things she did so she wouldn't get in trouble." "And did she appreciate your sacrifice?" Mulder smiled, then grimaced as Reggie hit a particularly sore spot with his probing fingers. "Ye . . .yes, she always scolded me for doing it. She said she could take her own punishment as well as I could, but I couldn't stand to see her cry." Reggie pulled the light blanket up over the cabin boy, earning another hiss of pain as the cloth touched his sorely blistered bottom. "She was right. You're too quick to protect others, little boy, even when they don't deserve it. And how did you end up with Blevins?" "My parents were both killed when I was twelve and Samantha was eight. I finally managed to get Samantha situated in a good orphanage but it took all the money I could get to pay for her keep." Reggie pinched his bottom through the blanket, "And just how did you do that? Picking pockets?" "Ouch! No, sir! I worked in a woolen house." "A sweat-shop!" Reggie was appalled. "Most children die without ever seeing the outside of a place like that." "I was lucky, I guess, plus I'm a lot stronger than I look. After a few years, I had saved enough to pay Mary Scully to keep my sister while I came to America. Well, it wasn't really enough, but she's a kind-hearted woman. I'm going to pay her back once I 've earned enough money." "And just how do you plan to get this money?" "Well," Mulder hesitated, thinking hard. "I had planned to go to a port somewhere and get a job. There's always a call for a man who can read and write. But now Captain Skinner says I can't leave him so I guess I'll have to learn to be a real pirate so I can share in the ill-gotten gains." "Yes," Reggie said, hiding a smile behind his hand. "I can see that you have the perfect combination of evil character and lack of morality to become a genuine terror of the seas." "Do you really think so, sir?" Mulder asked, once again looking over his shoulder, eyes wide and hopeful. Reggie shook his head, still chuckling to himself. "Who taught you to read?" "An old man who was down on his luck. He lived in the same alley that I did. He had . . ." "You lived in a alley?" "I had to. It was the only way I had enough money to take care of Samantha properly. She was forever growing out of her dresses and shoes. Anyway, Mr. Wiggins had been a teacher before his wife and child died of the fever. From then on, he cared more about where he was going to get his next ale than about what his students learned. He was let go from his position and ended up begging on the streets. He was a good man, he'd just not been able to cope with the loss of his family." Mulder reached up to wipe a fresh tear from his eye before he continued with his story. "One day I traded one of the other street boys my coat for a book. I don't know where he got it, I was afraid to ask. Books are precious things, I only hope he didn't steal it." Mulder looked back at Reggie as if about to impart a great secret, "Some of those boys had very light fingers." "Do tell?" Fox nodded gravely, "Anyway, when he wasn't in his cups, Mr. Wiggins taught me to read and figure numbers. One of the local merchants had taken a liking to me for some reason and . . ." He stopped when Reggie started chuckling again. "What? All I did was rescue his dog from some kids who were going to hurt it. I tried to tell him he didn't owe me his gratitude for that, anyone would have done the same." "Of course they would have. Go on." "The merchant was a baker. He would give me a bit of his stale bread whenever he had any left. I shared it with Mr. Wiggins in exchange for his lessons. It was a more than fair trade." "Weren't you hungry yourself?" Mulder laughed, "I was always hungry whether I shared or not. Mr. Mendelson was a good baker so there wasn't ever much bread that didn't sell from his shop, but I knew I needed those lessons. As I said, it was a fair trade." "What happened to him?" Reggie glanced over to where Walter had come back in and stood silently listening to the story, hidden from the cabin boy's view. "Mr. Wiggins?" "Yes, what happened to your Mr. Wiggins?" "He died. It snowed one night, a real blizzard. It was so cold. I don't remember ever being that cold before or after. . ." "Well you given away your coat." Reggie held up his hand to belay the protest. "I know, you needed that book." Mulder nodded again before resuming his story, "I tried to keep him warm but he was already sick and I was so thin I didn't have much heat to share with him. He died before morning." Reggie ran a soothing hand through the trembling cabin boy's dark hair, "It wasn't your fault." "If only I'd had a blanket to give him," Fox lamented as his long lashes came down to rest on his cheeks. He was soon sound asleep. Reggie turned around in time to see the captain wipe an errant tear from his own eye. "How much of that did you hear?" "I came back in while he was telling you how he took spankings for his sister. Reggie, how did he ever survive?" "He survived," Reggie answered sadly, "because he's strong, resourceful and has enough integrity for ten men. Maybe Chester is right, maybe he is an angel." Skinner's eyes widened as both brows shot up his forehead. "Oh all right," Reggie chuckled. "I suppose that is stretching it a bit, but that's still one very special young man you have there." "That's why I plan to curb his reckless behavior once and for all. I'm sending Frohike down here to protect Fox. The sighted ship wasn't the Severed Heart but a merchant ship flying a Spanish flag. I've ordered it boarded and I wouldn't want you to miss the , old man." "Watch your mouth, boy. And speaking of Chester, should we order him in here as well? I wouldn't want him to get in the way should the Spanish ship put up a good defense." "No, that won't be necessary. I restricted him to the galley this morning. He was too young to see Colton suffering his punishment, and he'd throw a fit if he knew we'd spanked his grandfather's angel." Both men chuckled as they happily went above to loot and pillage the Spanish merchants. * * * As it tuned out, the Spanish sailors had been so shocked to see a naked man with a bright, red bottom glowing hotly in the afternoon sun, they hadn't even noticed when the Jolly Roger was raised above the Chauve Terreur. The pirates helped themselves to their cargo, sending the Spaniards peacefully on their way without the spilling of one drop of blood. Fox would have been so proud. Now Reggie and Skinner sat peacefully smoking their pipes as they watched the ocean drift by, moonlight flickering on the caps of the small waves caused by the passing of their ship. The captain was thinking about his cabin boy. Earlier he had held Fox on his lap while he fed him a good meal. Since hearing his story earlier, Skinner was even more determined that his cabin boy would never know hunger or cold again. The cabin boy had protested mightily that he was perfectly capable of feeding himself. But Skinner had insisted that he remain on his lap where he had tickled and teased the sulking Fox until the younger man had finally broken down laughing, his mood lightening immensely. The captain had stayed with him while Fox told him outrageous stories about his perfect, well-behaved sister. Stories that the captain doubted, although truth be known, he couldn't wait to meet Samantha. He was anxious to find out if she was as pretty, bright and generous as her brother. "You spoil him you know?" "How did you know I was thinking about Fox?" "It's the only time you smile like that. In fact, it's the only time you've smiled like that in years. I've missed my mischievous cabin boy." "I was never mischievous!' Skinner objected indignantly. "Oh really?" Reggie smiled. "So just who was it who snuck that damned alley cat on board ship. Damned thing nearly clawed poor old Spooner to death before he finally got hold of it. Then you wouldn't let him chuck the little monster overboard. We had to put up with it until we reached port." "It was catching the mice in the hole," Skinner pointed out in the cat's dubious defense. "You had it too well fed on our pickled herring for the thing to be interested in a mouse. Whole damned ship was infested with fleas before we figured out it was on board." "Well, I remember you turned me over your knee and paddled my bare butt in front of the whole crew for it. I was so embarrassed I thought I'd die, crying like a two year old while my ass turned bright red for everyone to see. Hurt like hell." "It was meant to hurt. And I wouldn't have stopped until you were crying your eyes out. You never had a chance." "Then I had to stand with my nose to the main mast and my pants around my ankles. I just knew everyone was looking at me." "You were a little boy, you didn't have much to see." "Well I did when I got older, and I still had to stand there after I'd been punished." "Yeah, the men enjoyed it more then. Just like they do with Fox now. He's a fine-looking boy." "That he is," Skinner smiled again. "The pretty ones are nothing but trouble. I learned that lesson with you." "I was never as pretty as Fox." "Don't be so sure. That cute little turned up nose and . . ." "Reggie." Skinner warned as he blushed furiously. Reggie chuckled, turning his glance to where Colton still lay, his red bottom illuminated by a glowing lantern. After close to eight hours over the barrel, the well-punished man had finally quieted down. He now lay limp and exhausted. "I was hard on him." "He'll live. I hope you know, Walter, that one trouble. You should throw him off the ship before he tries to hurt Fox again." "I think he's learned his lesson. Which reminds me, I'm a little concerned about Robert Modell. I went in to check on him today and he wouldn't even wake up to talk to me. Pale as death and there are those little pellets all over his floor. Should I send one of the men in to find that bat?" "Leave the bat be, Walter. He and I have come to an agreement." "Excuse me? You know Reggie, sometimes I worry about you, too." "Save it for your brat, Walter. I think that's as much as you can handle for the moment." "I don't know what to do about Fox's sister," the captain confessed. "It would take too long to go to England to check on her. We have no idea where the Severed Heart is at the moment, and we can't just go wandering around the south seas hoping to run into it." "Well the way I see it," Reggie eyed the star-studded skies as he gathered his thoughts, "we can either go back to the island hoping Gentleman John will make another try for Fox, or we can go back and have a little talk with Mr. Blevins. Has your cabin boy said what he thinks we should do?" Skinner looked at his former captain in amazement. "He's just a kid! How would he know what we should do?" Reggie stared at him, one eyebrow raised high. "Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes, boy. I don't have to tell you Fox's a smart kid. Has a way of getting into peoples heads, almost like he knows what they're gonna' do next. So what did he say that you don't want to tell me about?" Skinner sighed heavily, "He thinks Roche is looking for him. He wants to go back to the island and put himself out as bait." The captain sounded so disheartened at that thought, that Reggie couldn't stop the chuckle that rose in his throat. "It's not funny! I couldn't protect him last time. What makes you think I could do it next time?" "You would." "I'm glad you're so damned sure of that, cause I'm sure not. And besides I'd really like to have a little talk with Blevins. Do you know that bastard starved Fox, locked him in that damned counting house day and night, didn't even have the decency to give him a warm blanket or a coat, and then tried to rape him?" "It's the way indentured servants are often treated, Walter. You know that. It's a hard life they choose in exchange for the slim chance of a better one." "Not much of a choice! Fox has fought for everything he's ever gotten, and it's been precious little if you ask me. And it may well be the way penniless, little orphan boys are treated but Blevins is going to regret that he dealt with that Fox in such a way." "It would seem the little orphan boy's luck has taken a turn for the better." "I keep thinking what would have happened to him if the Chauve Terreur hadn't been in that particular port on that particular night, or if I had gone with the men to the pub instead of staying on board, or if . . ." "He was meant to belong to you, Walter, just as we're meant to find his sister." Reggie grinned as he made a sweeping gesture at the night-blackened skies. "It was written in the stars." "Imagine that, a cut-throat, old reprobate of a pirate with the heart of a poet," Skinner teased. Reggie chuckled as he continued to puff contentedly on his pipe, "You'd better go below and cuddle up with your orphan. If he wakes up to find you missing, he'll start searching the ship. And once Fox is on the prowl, all hell will break loose again." "Excellent idea, my captain." Skinner rose, hesitating only long enough to affectingly squeeze Reggie's shoulder. "Thanks, Reggie. For everything." "Even the hot bottoms?" "Even those." "Don't be thanking me too soon, Walter Skinner. Don't you forget that I can still take you in hand if you stray from the path. The day I'm too old to weld my old strop on your bare bottom is the day you can pitch my lifeless body into the sea." "I would hope that day is far in the future, old man." "Humph!" Both men's heads snapped up as Fox's scream tore through the night. They arrived at the cabin to find Fox fighting a losing battle with the blankets that had somehow become wrapped around his lower body. "Stop! Let me go! I'm not dead yet! Can't you hear me? I'M NOT DEAD YET!" The captain braved the thrashing arms and kicking feet without a moment's hesitation, freeing the cabin boy from his blanket prison and pulling him into his lap. Mulder shuddered in his arms, shaking from head to foot. "Sh-h-h-h, it's all right, my beauty, it was just a nightmare. I have you now." "So cold," Mulder whispered, as he continued to shiver in his captain's strong arms. The captain wrapped the blanket around his cabin boy, looking up over the dark head nestled under his chin to the older captain who stood watching from the doorway. "It's all right, Reggie. I'll get him calmed down and back in bed. He'll be fine now." Reggie nodded, giving Fox one long, uneasy look before pulling the door shut behind him. The captain continued to rock the trembling man in his arms long after Reggie had gone to find his bed. The hot tears had ceased to soak through his shirt and the worst of the trembling had been reduced to the occasional hard shudder. "Tell me about it." "N . . not much to tell, really. Reggie and I were talking about a friend of mine from London earlier, and I guess it brought back some old memories, that's all." "Mr. Wiggins?" "You heard?" "I heard." "I had pulled him into an empty doorway, trying to shelter him as much as I could, but the snow was blowing so hard I couldn't keep it off him. He was soaked to the skin. We both were. But while I was shivering so hard my teeth were rattling, he was burning from the inside out. I tried to cover as much of him as I could with my own body, but I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew some men were pulling at me. They . . .they loaded him on a cart like he was just another piece of garbage." "And you?" "They tried to load me on the wagon, too. I kept telling them I wasn't dead yet but they just laughed and said it wouldn't be long from the looks of me. I kicked one of them in the knee, he let loose of me long enough for me to run." A sob broke free from somewhere very deep in the cabin boy's chest. "I ran away and left poor Mr. Wiggins lying on that dead-cart all by himself." Skinner pulled him tighter against his chest, "Reggie was right when he told you it wasn't your fault. You kept him alive as long as you could. You were just a child." "I don't remember ever being a child." Mulder laughed. It was a cold, joyless sound. "Even before you were orphaned?" "My father worked for the King. He stayed at the palace most of the time and when he came home, he was . . ." "What, Fox? He was what?" "Angry, I suppose, and sad somehow. My mother would try to talk to him but he wouldn't discuss his duty to the king. He would sit up all night, drinking his ale. I tried to stay away from him. If I got too close, he would hit me. He never hit my mother or Samantha though. I was always glad of that." "And he was murdered?" "Yes. He had just gotten home when I upset him yet again. I . . .I thought he'd never stop beating me that night. When he finally threw down his strap, he told me that I could sleep in the barn with the rest of the swine. Th . . .those were the last words I ever heard him say to me. I remember it was frightfully cold that night, and I only had on my nightshirt. I tried to snuggle down under the straw but I was still so terribly cold." The cabin boy took a hitching breath. Skinner didn't press him to continue, just tightened his arms around the trembling body. "I heard the barn door open. At first I was afraid it was my father come to punish me some more, but it was Samantha. She had snuck out of the house with a heavy blanket. She snuggled in beside me, pulling the blanket up over the both of us and held me while I cried. Then we heard shouting coming from outside. There were about a hundred men in black armor in our yard. My father came running out of the house and at least a dozen arrows lodged in his chest. Then I heard my mother scream, and . . .and the same thing happened to her." Skinner kissed the top of the cabin boy's head, again waiting patiently for him to get hold of his emotions and resume his story. "I . . .I grabbed Samantha's hand and we crept out of the back of the barn and into the forest. We watched while the men burned our house and the barn. My father and mother's bodies burned with the house I suppose." "Do you know why they were killed?" "No. I never tried to find out. From then on, all I had time for was making sure Samantha was fed." "And then you sold yourself to Blevins?" Skinner spit out, unable to hide the malice from his voice. "I didn't actually sell myself to Mr. Blevins. I made a deal with the captain of the ship, he sold my papers when we reached port. There was a sort of auction for the few of us who had survived the voyage. I knew I was in trouble with Blevins right from the very start. He made the captain strip me of my clothing for a public inspection. None of the other men had to do that. It was so humiliating, everyone was looking at me as I stood there all alone and naked while Blevins did his examination. He was very thorough." The captain carefully scooted down into the bed, pulling his emotionally drained cabin boy with him. Fox was asleep on his chest within minutes. Skinner kissed the top of his head. Skinner lay there gritting his teeth together until he was sure they would turn to powder in his mouth. He was more certain that ever that the good Mr. Blevins would pay for his sins against this young man. * * * Known only as Red Willie for as long as he could remember, the first mate of the Severed Heart had grown up on the streets in the worst part of London. He'd survived mostly because he was bigger, meaner and more of a bully than any of the other boys, and most of the men. His mother had been a working girl until the day the men from Bedlam had come to take her away as she screamed and babbled about giant bugs in her shoes. Five-year-old Willie was told that the prostitute known only as, Black Irish, had gone mad from the whore-sickness. That was right before they threw him out of their rat-infested boarding-house to make his own way on the streets. He had learned to survive, fast and hard. As he reached his manhood, the life of a pirate had come naturally to Red Willie, presenting him with an outlet for his long- suppressed rage as well as a way to use his inherent talent for intimidation to line his pockets with gold. He had sailed with Gentleman John for almost three years now, gaining the vast wealth that was a part of serving under a man like John Lee Roche, one of the most vicious, amoral men to ever call himself 'pirate'. But truth be told, Willie had shamelessly rejoiced in the wanton, cold-blooded way the captain of the Severed Heart had annulated the crew of any vessel unlucky enough to cross his path. But now as he watched his captain's agitated pacing and disjoined grumbles, he was reminded far too much of his mother's crazy behavior. It was the only thing that truly scared Red Willie. He was terrified that one day he would end up like his mother. He didn't want to be anywhere around someone who had gone mad and that included Captain John Lee Roche. And then there was another problem he'd been having lately, ever since they picked up that girl and her preaching nanny . . . "ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?" Gentleman John screeched, his usual gentle monotone long ago abandoned. "Keep that preacher woman away from the men, do you hear me, Willie? She's all but talked them into pitching all of our rum barrels overboard! And yesterday I caught Two-Tooth Ted trying to knit a sweater for the poor instead of mending the sail. This ship is coming down around our very ears!" "As I've told you, Gentleman John, we'll be at Suave L'ile in just three days." The first mate's face paled noticeably as his volatile captain turned rabid, black eyes in his direction. "Uh . . .two days! I meant two days, sir. I'll push the men harder." "See that you do! And where has that damned girl gotten off to now. You have to watch her every minute, Willie, she's a sly one." "Yes, rest assured I'm watching her, sir. Why, I hardly ever take my eyes off that girl." "Good! Good job, boy. I knew I could depend on you." John Roche began his lunatic pacing once more. "So where is she?" "At the moment she and old Charlie Vine are searching the ship. She said something about helping a poor lost soul that needed to find the light." "What the hell does that mean?" "I think she was referring to a ghost, captain." Red Willie cringed as he waited for the inevitable explosion. He was not disappointed. "WHAT! Last week it was trolls in the flour bins and before that she had half the crew afraid to go near the ship's hole. Claimed the rats had been demon-possessed!" Gentleman John paced in tight little circles, hands clasped tightly behind his back, muttering incoherently to himself. "I've got to get her off my ship . . .no amount of gold is worth . . .I've got to get her off my ship . . .bewitched them. . .she's evil. . .I should have had her brother instead . . .I just bet he doesn't cause Skinner this kind of trouble . . .such a pretty boy . . . I've got to get her off my ship . . ." "Uh . . .yes well, I'll . . .uh, be going now . . ." Willie quietly slunk away while his insane captain continued to pace and mumble. * * * Skinner patted the mattress beside him as he leered at Fox from across the cabin. "Put that brush down and come get in bed with me, or would you prefer I warm your backside with it?" "But I'm not finished polishing your boots." Mulder looked over at his captain, bottom lip stuck invitingly. Skinner felt his heart melt. Between those eyes and that mouth, the boy could charm the devil himself into forgetting his desire to sin. The captain sighed heavily, "If I'd known you were going to take your responsibilities so seriously, I would never have made you my cabin boy." Mulder's head jerked up, alarmed. "You . . .you would have left me in that counting house?" "Of course not!" "That's it, isn't it? You're sorry you ever got saddled with me but now you're just too nice to throw me off your ship." "I'm not nice!" Skinner declared, highly offended. "I'm the captain of the most feared pirate ship in the Caribbean!" Mulder turned away, wiping discretely at his eyes. "Reggie says you saved a kitty." "Wh . . .wh . . .WHAT? I was ten years old! That doesn't count!" "Was still nice." "Shut up and get over here! And stop talking to Reggie Purdue!" Mulder sighed as he put away his boot brush, tugging off his clothing as he walked to the bed. He had to admit it felt good. The blankets were so soft and the captain was so warm. "If you hadn't made me your cabin boy, and you did go ahead and rescue me from the counting house, would you have made me into a cold-blooded pirate?" "Sure. Right." Skinner snickered. "Hey! I'd make a good pirate!" "Really? How do you figure that?" "I like to help people." Skinner rolled his eyes, "Pirates don't people, Fox. We steal their treasure. How many times do we have to go over that basic concept?" Mulder looked up at the captain through thick lashes, a vivid blush rising to his cheeks. "I stole something once," he whispered. "Oh I can't wait to hear this! Let me guess. A poor little flower girl swooned from hunger, and you stole an apple from a street- vendor to save her life. Right?" Mulder eyes sparkled with mirth, white teeth gleaming in his beautiful tanned face. "Captain Skinner, you certainly got that one all wrong! You aren't even close!" Mulder laughed happily as his captain grinned back, enchanted. "She was a widow lady and I stole a whole pork-pie for her." Skinner's smile faded as his mouth dropped open, "You're joking, right?" "Why would I joke about something like that? Stealing is a serious offense. I would have been in big trouble if I'd gotten caught." "What happened to her? Did she die on the street like your tutor, Mr. Wiggins?" "Oh no! Once she ate the pie and wasn't dizzy anymore, I took her to Mr. Mendelson's Bakery. I told him I wanted him to start giving her his stale bread instead of me, but he married her instead." "WHAT!" "Well he didn't marry her that day or anything. He said I was too skinny to give away my bread, and he better not be hearing any more about me sharing it with every beggar on the street either. He gave me a swat on my backside and Peggy a job washing pans. Well, one thing kind of led to another," Fox shrugged his shoulders, "and they got married." "I don't believe that story," "It's true! After Peggy and Mr. Mendelson got married, they wanted to adopt me but I couldn't do that. I had to keep working to support Samantha. Besides I was too old to adopt, I just looked younger." "Imagine that." Skinner shook his head, "Did they still give you the stale bread." "Yes they did. And sometimes I got milk, too. I really liked that . . . and so did Mr. Wiggins." Mulder stopped when his captain groaned miserably. "Are you all right, sir?" "Yes, I'm fine. I just got a much too clear vision of a skinny, half- starved kid giving his precious milk to a worthless, old drunk, that's all." "Mr. Wiggins wasn't a worthless, old drunk! He was . . . was a tragic figure." Mulder nodded once, very seriously, hoping to add weight to his words. He was disappointed by not surprised when his captain still looked less than impressed. "Right, tragic. Continue, brat." "Anyway, getting back to my point. I'm an experienced thief and would make an excellent pirate, if I do say so myself." "And what will you do when we attack a fat merchant ship? Invite the crew to tea?" Mulder's brows furrowed he eyed his captain, "Frohike said you weren't telling me the truth about that. What you do with them?" "Uhm-m-m-, uh, nothing you need to worry about. What if we find another scalawag drifting on a raft. You going to save that one's ass, too?" "No, sir! I've learned my lesson about that. Of course, we'll have to pick him up. That's only right. But he can't come live with us." Mulder gave his captain a chiding look. "And that's final!" "I didn't . . ." "Yes, you did. Just ask Reggie. He says you always did collect strays. Of course he was upset with at the time, and . . ." "Reggie talks to much. You know, Fox, sometimes I just think you're too good to be true. Don't you ever do anything petty or cruel or just plain mean?" Mulder shrugged, "I'm no angel, no matter what Chester Bonaparte might try to tell you. I know I'm reckless and annoying, and cause you no end of trouble. Mother Maggie says . . ." "No! Don't say it!" Skinner ran a hand over the soft skin of his cabin boy's abdomen, preparing to tickle him unmercifully for mentioning that . . . that . . . woman's name again, when Fox's stomach rumbled loudly from under his hand. The captain immediately sat up, his eyes wide with alarm. "Are you hungry?" Mulder looked over at him warily, "Just a little. It's been a while since dinner. I'll be fine until morning." "No! You're never going to go to bed hungry again. Go to the galley and bring something back here to eat." "But, the cook doesn't like . . ." "You let me worry about the cook. Now go!" Mulder rolled his eyes as he crawled out of his warm bed, pulling his clothing back on as he headed for the door. "And Fox . . ." The cabin boy turned, "What?" "Try not to rescue any damsels in distress while you're gone . . . my angel." The captain chuckled as he watched his cabin boy cringe at Chester's name for him. Mulder made what he considered his most dangerous face, "Don't call me that!" Once Fox had closed the door behind him, Skinner turned onto his back, chuckling up at the ceiling. And just maybe Chester's right, Skinner thought. Fox may well be an angel. The captain had certainly never met anyone else who was that generous and kind-hearted. The captain snorted as he thought about his cabin boy as a pirate. "That boy couldn't hurt a flea if it was biting him on the butt!" he chortled to himself. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU . . .you . . .you scum-sucking bastard! You bottom hugging, rat-eating, swamp-dwelling son of a . . .!" The next thing the captain knew, he was standing in the middle of his cabin, stark naked, watching as his sweet, compassionate cabin boy beat the living shit out of Lucius Hartwell. All the while using language that would have made every last man of the Sauve Terreur crew blush like school-girls. Skinner was too stunned to react. "You son-of-a-one-eyed, buck-toothed, plague-ridden-whore!" Lucius grabbed the cabin boys wrists, his eyes staring up wide with wonder. "How do you know my mother?" "Ah-h-h-h-h-h! I never met your mother! I was only guessing! You stupid, dull-witted, son-of-a . . ." "No, my angel!" The captain shook his head to clear a little more as Chester Bonaparte rushed into the cabin, dropping the tray of food he was carrying as he reached to pull Fox off of Lucius Hartwell. "Angel, stop! He is dangerous! He will hurt you, angel!" "He . . .he . . .the captain . . .kissing him . . .Ah-h-h-h-h!" Skinner lifted his hand up to touch his still tingling lips. He had no idea why Lucius was in his cabin, or why Fox was rolling around on the floor pounding the poor man's face with his fists. And where had the cabin boy learned to swear like that? Skinner was sure he recognized at least six different languages in the colorful tirade that spewed from the younger man's pretty lips. "Fox?" Skinner managed to choke out, surprised that his voice was little more than a raspy croak. Mulder spared one quick glance for his bewildered captain before returning his attention to his dumbfounded victim. Lucius wasn't sure exactly how to handle this unexpected situation. No one had dared to attack him for well over a hundred years, and the cabin boy was so enraged he didn't even notice that his blows were harmlessly bouncing off the vampire's face. Lucius wrapped his arms and legs around the hissing alley-cat on top of him, trapping Mulder tightly against his body. If he hurt the cabin boy, Skinner would let him in their bed. Hartwell watched as Mulder screamed, and spit and cursed incoherently. Then the cabin boy bared his teeth and went for Lucius' exposed throat. If the vampire hadn't been so busy trying to subdue the tempestuous young man, he would have laughed until he cried. The little shit had actually tried to bite him! Skinner finally got his wits about him enough to reach down and pull his cabin boy off the other man. Lucius hurriedly got to his feet, keeping his hands over his face so no one would notice the absence of both blood and bruises. Next time he'd have to remember to mesmerize the two men at the same time. He'd thought that Skinner would be one who might jealously object to the vampire's planned seduction of the two mortals. It was now clear to Lucius that he had seriously underestimated the cabin boy. The vampire turned to leave just as Fox let out another angry growl and made a lunge for the retreating man. Skinner acted quickly, pulling his enraged cabin boy up and over his shoulder, trapping his body with one strong arm locked around his madly kicking legs. He slapped the bottom so conveniently positioned over his shoulder. "No! No, you cannot do that!" Chester cried. "You must never hit an angel!" "What the hell is going on in here?" Reggie shouted as he barreled through the cabin door, long sword at the ready, just in time to see the captain deliver another stinging swat to his cursing cabin boy's upturned, trouser-covered butt. "The captain is beating my grandfather's angel," Chester wailed, tears running down his smooth cheeks. Reggie eyed the captain and the hissing, spitting bundle he had trapped over his shoulder. "I repeat . . .what the hell is going on in here?" "It would seem," Captain Skinner informed, "That angels have tempers, and turn into dirty, little street-fighters when provoked." "And I bet I know just who provoked him," Reggie glared at Lucius, who had the good grace to look sheepishly away. "Get out of here, Hartwell! And Chester, you go to bed or you'll be the one who's feeling a hand applied to your backside." Both of them wisely fled the room. "As for you," Reggie gave the captain a quelling look. "Put that boy to bed and you owe him an apology while you're at it." Reggie let out a couple of exasperated grunts, mumbling something about it being impossible for a decent man to get a good night's sleep aboard this blasted pirate ship, as he slammed the door behind him. The captain stood staring at the closed door for a long moment. He had no idea why Reggie thought he needed to apologize to Fox. Meanwhile, his cabin boy had finally settled down, now lying tensely over his shoulder, breathing hard and fast. "Are you ready to be put down?" "Whatever." Skinner cautiously lowered Fox to stand in front of him, where he continued to glare at his captain. "Want to tell me what that was all about?" "You're trying to tell me that you don't know what I saw when I walked back in this cabin?" "I would think it was Lucius Hartwell, a man who saved your life, by the way," Skinner reminded, "and I having a discussion about . . .about . . ." Skinner trailed off, not remembering exactly what Lucius had come to his cabin to discuss. Not remembering Lucius coming to his cabin at all. He suddenly felt very dizzy and a little weak in his knees. "Discussion? DISCUSSION! You . . .you were . . .were . . . KISSING HIM!" "I was !" "You . . .you . . .he . . .Ah-h-h-h-h!" Seeing that Fox was working himself into another good temper- tantrum, the captain pulled the cabin boy tightly against his chest, smothering any further accusations of wrongdoing on his part by a hard, soul-jarring kiss. When he finally released the cabin boy, Fox was glassy-eyed and leaning heavily against him. "We're both tired." Skinner ran a soothing hand through Mulder's thick, dark hair. "I'm not sure what happened here, but if Reggie thinks I owe you an apology, then you shall have one. I'm sorry, Fox . . .for whatever. Now, let's both get a good night sleep and we'll talk about it some more in the morning." "Humph!" Mulder pulled himself away from his captain's embrace, tugging at his clothing. Once in bed, Skinner tried to pull his into his arms but the cabin boy was having none of it. He lay on his own side, stiff as a wooden plank, staring angrily at the ceiling. Hours later, still seething, Mulder looked up into the sympathetic eyes of the ghost of old Stubby. The apparition smiled down at him kindly. "You've had a busy night." "Humph!" Stubby chuckled as he chewed on that ever-present pipe of his, "Well this should put to rest any fears your captain has about you not being able to hold your own in a good fight." "Humph!" "You're certainly well-spoken tonight." Stubby chuckled again. "Forget about it, cabin boy. It wasn't your captain's fault." "But he . . ." "Got himself in a pickle. I know." Stubby reached down, placing one feather-light hand on Mulder's forehead, then slowly drawing it down to his chin. As it passed his eyes, the cabin boy immediately feel into a deep, peaceful sleep. "Let it go, Fox. Your captain was not to blame. Rest assured your kisses are the only ones he craves." Skinner was surprised and relieved the next morning to have his cabin boy back in good humor. In fact, Fox remembered as little of the happenings of the night before as did his captain. * * * "Land ho!" Gentleman John Roche let his head fall gratefully into his hands. He didn't think he'd ever heard such welcome words. * * * Napoleon stood watching as the Severed Heart dropped anchor a few miles off shore. With Captain Skinner, Mr. Byers and Mr. Purdue all off the island, Napoleon determined that put him in charge. He turned to the two men standing beside him. One was the powerful, no-nonsense chieftain of the island natives, Mista-Ex. He stood a good deal over six foot tall, powerfully built and not a trace of good-will in his solemn, angry face. "If they set foot on my island, my warriors will deal with them with deadly severity. Not a man will be left standing. The oceans will run red with their blood!" Napoleon eyed the big warrior king. "Ok-a-a-a-y, so much for settling this peacefully." The captain's adopted son turned to the other man. "What about you, Clyde, what do you think?" Clyde Bruckman bit down on the well-chewed stem of his hand- carved pipe. He had been a pirate for more years than most of the men on this island had been alive, and had the cantankerous nature to prove it. "Word is that the new cabin boy, what the hell's his name again, Beaver, Sea Urchin, some such thing?" "It's Fox, Clyde. His name is Fox." "Oh that's right. Stupid name. Nice kid though, nosey as hell. I remember once in the summer of '56 there was this boy . . ." "Uh, Mr. Bruckman?" Napoleon interrupted. "I don't mean to stop you in the middle of one of your stories but . . ." "About damned time somebody stopped him. Bores everyone on this island nearly to death with that dribble." Mista-Ex grumbled. "Jealous, jungle-boy?" "Who're you calling a , old man?" "If the money-fur panties fit . . ." "These are not panties! This is a ceremonial breech-cloth that has been worn by the leaders of my tribe for hundreds of years!" "Smells like it too," Clyde scrunched up his nose distastefully. "Don't ya' ever wash that thing?" "How dare you insult the. . ." Napoleon threw up his hands. "Please, I need your help here. What were you going to say about Fox, Clyde?" "Huh?" "We were talking about the Severed Heart," Napoleon prompted. "And you said something about hearing that the cabin boy . . ." He stopped, looking at Clyde hopefully. "Oh, I was just going to say that I'd heard that the boy's little sister might be on Gentleman John's ship. We gotta' be mighty careful. Walter would be real upset if we got her killed. He seems to be overly fond of Snake." Clyde scratched at his balding head. "Still think that's a damned stupid name." "I say we attack with deadly purpose!" MistaEx thumped the end of his spear on the hard-packed sand. "Great idea, chimp-lover." Clyde sneered, earning another enraged growl from the big native. "In case you haven't noticed that ship has about a hundred cannons, and it's crew is armed to the teeth with muskets and swords. But I'll tell you what, you go get your shark-tooth spears and a couple of big rocks, and I'll go get the Sanctimonious Sisters with their knittin' needles and we'll just give that old Gentleman John a real run for his money . . .or maybe just a real good laugh. What'd ya'say?" "So what do we do, Clyde?" Napoleon spared an anxious glance for the smoldering tribal leader. "You say we can't mount a direct attack, but we can't just sit here and wait for that evil pirate to come ashore either. So what do we do?" "We use our heads, boy. I've noticed that one of those pesky vampires, Eddie Van-something or other, looks a whole lot like Gazelle, or whatever the hell that kid's name is." "Eddie VanBlundht?" Napoleon questioned, shaking his head. "He doesn't look like Fox at all. In fact, I think he very closely resembles Captain Skinner." "No he doesn't!" MistaEx corrected vehemently, "He looks exactly like that fine gentleman, Reggie Purdue." The three confused men stood gaping at each other. Finally Clyde found his voice. "Well I say he looks just like that Halibut kid. Our best bet is to lay a trap for Gentleman John using Eddie VanWhatsit as bait. Get the upper hand before that ship has a chance to attack us first." "Excellent idea! And I'll organize the Sanctimonious Sisters into His own righteous army." "Ah-h-h-h-h." The three men cringed, backing to a safe distance as Mother Maggie marched onto the beach, eyes flashing with the promise of hell and brimstone for all who dared to sin. * * * "Look! Look!" Gentleman John called excitedly as he shoved his spyglass into the hands of his first mate. "It's her! It's her! I know it's her!" "It's who, captain?" "That . . .that . . .woman's sister. See her there on shore? See how those big, strong men are trying to slink away from her? See how she has that one arm raised to the sky calling down the wrath of the almighty on their poor, innocent heads? It's her, I tell you! It can't be anyone else!" "So? Mary Scully told you her sister lived on this island, it's why we came back here." Red Willie's reservations about his captain's waning sanity were growing in leaps and bounds. "But don't you see? Now we don't have to set foot on that blasted island. We just chuck that . . .that . . .woman onto a dingy and give it a good shove toward shore." Willie studied said shore through the somewhat blurry magnification of the spyglass. The woman had dropped to her knees now and seemed to be harping at her three companions to do the same. The three men, on the other hand, looked like they wanted nothing more than to slither away into the jungle. The first mate moved the spy glass, looking around the island. It really was a beautiful place. Maybe he should see if Captain Skinner could use another pirate aboard the Suave Terreur. It sure looked like the crew of the Severed Heart were all going to be looking for new positions soon. The captain had gone as mad as a speckled Loon. "What's that over there?" Roche asked as he pointed to a small speck in the water a few hundred yards from the ship. John Lee grabbed the spyglass, putting it up to his own eye before letting forth with a torrid of curses that would have brought the full self- righteous wrath of Mary Scully down on him in a heartbeat. "It's her! It's her!" "You already said that," Willie sighed in exasperation. "Mary Scully's sister." "No, you fool! It's that damned girl. She's swimming to shore!" "I'll go get her, sir." "You're a good and loyal man, Red Willie." "Uh-huh." Red Willie turned on his heel, heading for one of the dinghies stored on deck. His hand came up to rest against the bag of gold tied securely under his shirt. He was a loyal kinda' guy all right. The End Chapter 7