Chapter Text
“Oh my god!” Lucius screams, “Fuck! I just saw another one of those little brown bastards run across the floor and he was waving at me, I swear to god. You saw it too; didn’t you, babe?”
“Uh—oh. Yeah, he was absolutely giving you the middle finger, babe.” Pete gives a confused and unconvincing nod.
“Babe, I appreciate you’re trying to be supportive but— Oh my god, there goes another one of those hairy little buggers!” Lucius yelps, scrambling halfway off the floor and into Pete’s lap.
Roach takes a pull off a joint, talking through a cloud of smoke, “Eh, Captain. I’m all for different kinds of meat, but the mice? They must go.” His fingers slice through the smoke to illustrate his point.
“Yeah, Cap’n,” Frenchie says from the corner, “Mice tend to carry lots of ill humors. The French have this thing they call—“
“Not now, Frenchie. We’ve got a real problem on our hands. The ship is overrun with mice! Buttons! How did all these damn mice get on my ship?”
“That’d have been Livi, Cap’n. She brings ‘em aboard to appease the hungry spirit of Karl.”
“Ah, yes, the Widow Olivia. Well, that does put us in a bit of a bind. Is there any way you could possibly talk her into, say, killing them before bringing them aboard?”
“Nay, Cap’n. Not if you want to wake up with your eyes intact come morning. Karl’s is a restless spirit. Livi will know when he’s been appeased.”
Stede sighs. “So, you’re saying this is a temporary arrangement?”
“Aye, give or take twenty years.”
“Twenty years?! Twenty bird years?”
Buttons’ eyes go wide as he shrugs, “Not one to question a widow, Cap’n.”
“Ah, yes, I see, quite right. Buttons, how long do the mice have to be alive aboard the ship?”
“Not long, Cap’n.” Buttons replies with about as much helpful information as a rock.
Stede’s lips disappear for a moment, “Splendid. Alright then, men, any suggestions on how we can expedite this mouse extermination process while still making sure that Karl’s spirit is being properly respected? Any ideas? Yes? The Swede?”
“I heard a tale once as a little boy. It’s this story about a man who sings and the mice follow him along in tiny little lines. Maybe I could sing them off the ship?”
Oluwande shakes his head, “Nah, mate, that was a flute he used.”
“No,” Swede frowns, “I’m fairly certain it was singing.”
Stede claps and the two drift into a sullen silence, “We’ll take that into consideration, but in the meantime, any other suggestions?”
Wee John raises his hand, “We could light them on fire?”
“Well, seeing as the ship is entirely made of wood, I think we’ll put that one on the back burner for now, but thank you for the suggestion.”
Wee John shrugs, his attention already drifting back to his sewing.
Oluwande looks around the room, waiting to see if anyone else raises their hand before suggesting, “We could always get a mouse catcher?”
“Oh! That sounds perfect! And, uh, what exactly is a mouse catcher?”
“A cat, he means a cat,” Jim says to the loud objections of Frenchie.
“No, cats are witches!”
“I was once on a ship that had a cat. Never had any rodent problems,” Roach offers. “Of course, there was that one time we all had to—“
Stede holds up his hand. “I’m going to stop you there Roach, thank you. I’d like to say that, for now, I’m in agreement with Frenchie. You all know how Ed feels about pets on board the ship!”
“Yeah,” Fang says before letting out a loud wail.
“You had to bring that up, didn’t you?” Lucius says while reaching awkwardly over Pete to rub circles into Fang’s shoulder.
Stede sighs, “As co-captain of this ship, I agree with Ed. Until further notice, any talk of a cat is strictly off the table.”
Right as Stede attempts to leave, a mouse dashes across the floor and over his boot.
He lets out an ear-splitting squeals as he spins to tell the crew, “Oh god! I take it back! We’re getting a damn cat.”
At that precise moment, Ed saunters into the room, “What are we getting now?”
Stede looks at everyone in the room with wide, panicked eyes, “Uh. We’re hiring a—um—a mouse management officer. The next time we make port. It appears we have a delicate situation concerning both the widow Olivia and the overall sanitation and health of the Revenge.”
Ed hooks his fingers in his belt and nods, “Cool, cool. Sounds like a good idea.”
Stede smiles, all teeth and wide eyes, “Perfect, well, it seems like our meeting here is adjourned for the evening. If you all don’t mind, we’ll table all talks of our new officer until we reach land. Until then, Roach, see what you can do about corralling the mice—and no, we are not adding them to the menu.” Roach deflates and huffs in disappointment.
“Buttons, see if there is anything you can do to convince Olivia to maybe, strategically drop the mice, so we have a better chance of containing them.”
Buttons nods. “I’ll see what I can do Cap’n, but I canna make any promises.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to. Now that that’s settled, let’s get back to kicking booty!”
“Uh, you mean stealing booty, mate,” Ed whispers loud enough for the entire crew to pretend like they can’t hear.
“Precisely.” Stede smile grows wider as he exits back to the top deck.
“What was that all about, Stede?” Ed asks, leaning against the rails.
Stede leans back on his elbows, looking up at the main post high above them with increasing fondness. If not the most comfortable place to sleep, it’s at least far from scurrying little feet.
“It seems we have a bit of a mouse problem, but it’ll all be taken care of in no time. I didn’t want to worry you with this silly, middle management stuff.”
Ed’s mouth curls to the side in mild distaste. “Yeah, s’not really my strong suit. More the big ideas kinda guy.”
“That’s why we make such good co-captains, dear. We balance each other out.”
“I could balance you out,” Ed says with a waggle of his eyebrows.
Stede scoffs, “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Doesn’t have to make sense.”
“Yes, it does! If you’re trying to be funny—“ Stede slams his lips shut, “You’re having a go at me aren’t you?”
Ed chuckles. “You make it too easy,”
Stede bumps Ed’s shoulder. “Only for you, dear.”
Several more incidents, many more screams, and a few carefully placed knives with mice hanging off the end, and Stede is certain the crew has gone nuts.
“Mr. Buttons, when will we be making landfall today?”
“Around noon, sir, if the tides are kind.”
“Good, delightful. Ah, have you perchance seen Izzy at all? Anywhere?”
“Hm. Nah. Haven’t seen the fella for a few days now. Makes himself awful scarce these days. Probably for the best. Not many on the crew still want him aboard. Not that I blame them. He did have us marooned. For days. With no rations.” Buttons’ eye twitches.
“I’m well aware of Mr. Hand’s past transgressions against the crew. Do you have any suggestions on where he might have skulked off to?”
“The nose never lies, Cap’n. Hasn’t left his room for days. Probably for the best.” Buttons’ lips start twitching.
He’s murmuring some foreign language under his breath, not loud enough for Stede to catch any of it, but enough for him to know he doesn’t need to hear the rest.
“Thank you for your time as always, Buttons. Keep up the excellent work.” Stede smiles as he rushes off to find another mouse who’s holed himself away.
Stede raps on Izzy’s door, “Ah, First Mate Hands? May I have a word with you?”
"You may, Captain,” Izzy says behind the still closed door.
Stede takes this in stride, “I was wondering if you could elaborate at all on Ed’s stance around pets? It seems we’ve got a bit of problem with mice and may need to hire a,” he whispers through the door, “a cat. For a little bit.”
The door slowly squeaks open and an owl-eyed Izzy is blinking up at Stede, “Did you just fucking say—a cat?”
Stede frowns, “I thought I said that quite clearly. The Revenge is swarming with mice and we’re on the prowl for a mouse management officer.”
Izzy stares at him like he’s speaking a foreign language. “You still talking about a cat?”
“Well sussed! Precisely, a cat. I just wanted to know if you had any useful tips on how to smooth the idea over with Ed. Seeing as you’ve known his style of captaincy for longer.”
The silence draws out before Izzy starts to laugh.
It grows wilder, turning into a high-pitched giggle, and breaks off into loud, full-bodied belly laughs. “I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.”
Izzy turns around and closes his door. His laughter carries through the wood, leaving a confused Stede to wonder if Izzy has finally cracked, too.
They make port a little before noon. Dressed far more subdued than his debut to the Republic of Pirates, Stede still manages to stick out.
Beside him, Ed brushes a strand of hair out of his face, eyes watchful of the shadows. He slows his pace, following in a careful swagger only a few steps behind Stede.
Lucius is not far behind, either. “Watch out for that kid there. He’s gonna try to steal the Captain’s purse.”
Sure enough, the kid darts out and almost runs off with enough money to buy himself a dozen meals two times over.
Lucius manages to deftly maneuver both himself and the boy. He hands him a flash of coin and shoos him off. The kid runs, smart enough to know not to turn back.
“Right kind of you to not chop the little buggers’ fingers off,” Ed remarks.
“Done my fair share of time on the streets picking pockets. Anyway, it seems a bit of the Gentleman Pirate’s ways are rubbing off on all of us these days.” Lucius pats Ed on the shoulder before sashaying off, “Bye-bye now! Don’t have too much fun, you two!”
Stede gives a little wave. “He seems awful chipper today!”
Ed watches Stede; anyone passing by could easily see the deep affection that crinkles the corners of Ed’s eyes and causes his lips to curl in the hint of a smile. It’s a look of love. Pure and simple.
“What’s our first stop?”
“Well, this port is known for some of its finest damasks, so I wanted to order some and see if we couldn’t have Frenchie….”
The rest of the day goes on with Stede filling up their munitions and stealthily keeping an eye out for anything that looks remotely like a pet shop. At the tail end of the day, arms loaded with goods, Stede finally finds what he’s looking for.
Unfortunately, he can’t very well buy a cat with Ed in tow. “I think we’ve got about all we can carry, love. I say we head back to the ship and organize our packages.”
Ed eyes Stede, sensing his disappointment he bumps Stede’s elbow, “Why the long face, mate?”
Stede jumps, nearly dropping a few packages in his surprise, “Oh, well, you see… There was this nice little soap shop I wanted to stop by, but it seems they’re under new management and I was mildly curious as to who’d taken over!”
Stede puffs his chest out, pleasantly surprised and proud of his quick-thinking answer.
“Never knew you’d been ‘round these parts before.”
Stede’s face turns waxy. “Ah, once. It’s been a while. I may have been thinking of a different city.”
Ed hums but makes no further remarks as they board the ship. They set their goods down, and not more than a minute later, an entirely-too-brave family of mice decides to rush out of the shadows and make the closest package their new home.
Frenchie starts yelling, “Captain! The mice have taken The Swede hostage!”
“That escalated quickly.” Ed nods his head, frowning in begrudging admiration. “I’ll, ah, leave you to it then?”
Ed does a funny little hop and rushes off the ship, leaving Stede to take care of the entire mouse fiasco alone.
Stede leans over the rail, desperate to follow on Ed’s heels while Frenchie keeps yelling, “Sir! We really need your help here!”
Stede stumbles upon the crew huddling around a shaky and sodden Swede. “My god, what happened here?”
Oluwande throws a blanket over the Swede. “Turns out the mice do like music. Started crawling from all corners of the ship and swarmed up onto the Swede. Threw himself overboard to get them off.”
Stede plants a fist on his hip. “Damn.”
Oluwande gives a small nod. “Yeah, so did you have any luck with finding our ‘mouse management officer’?”
“Of a sort. I saw where we can procure a fine specimen for the ship, but I’ll have to try a more clandestine approach.”
With the Swede curled around a cup of hot tea and the crew momentarily mollified Stede waves Lucius over.
“Lucius, if you don’t mind, I’d like for you to accompany me on a quick jaunt back to shore.”
“Absolutely,” Lucius jumps up, “Anything to get me off this rodent-infested death trap.”
“It’s not all that bad!”
“Mmm, says the man who doesn’t have a literal multi-generational mouse family living in his bed.”
“Really?” Stede turns to the crew. “Is he being serious?”
Various sounds of agreement and disgust rise and fall over the deck.
“Before this day is done, I swear to you all that we’ll have our new mouse management officer installed and this mouse fiasco under control!”
On land, Stede and Lucius speed through the market to find the only seller of “The World’s Finest Mouse Catchers.”
“Quite a big claim for such a small establishment, wouldn’t you say, Lucius?”
“Yeah, not much argument there, Captain.”
Stede cups a hand to call out. “Hello? Anyone here? I’d like to acquire one of your finest pussies!”
The long-suffering Lucius whispers over Stede’s shoulder. “May want to adjust your phrasing there, Captain.”
From somewhere a voice calls out, “Come back in two weeks. Sold our last cat earlier!”
“Are you quite sure you don’t have, say, a stray, back-alley pussy we could buy off of you?”
“Captain…”
The door slams shut in their faces.
“I don’t think we’ll be coming back here any time soon.”
“Nah,” Lucius wrinkles his nose, “Not the best customer service.”
Stede heaves a deep sigh. “And it’s just our damn luck that this is the only purveyor of cats at this port. We’ll just have to go back and inform the crew we’ll be having our guests on board for a little while longer.”
Lucius gags. “No one is going to like the sound of that, Captain.”
“No, I suppose not, but life is full of disappointments, Lucius. It’s all how we get back up that speaks to our character!”
“Uh-huh, right. I’ll go tell Pete and Fang we’re sleeping up in the main post for the next two weeks.”
Stede sighs and trudges back onto the Revenge to break the news to a reluctantly acceptant crew.
“You’re lucky I found a way to get them away from the food stores, Captain. Won’t work for much longer though. These mice are smart.” Roach eyes the floors as if waiting for a mouse to help prove him right.
“Thank you for your continued ingenuity, Roach. I hope we won’t need to find new ways for much longer. If you’ll all be patient, we’ll have a solution soon.”
Murmurs in varying forms of “like we’ve haven’t heard that one before” meet Stede’s retreat.
Stede closes the door to his cabin, his head falling back and thudding against the wood.
“Got yourself in a right pickle, eh, Bonnet?” Izzy slinks out of the dark, looking worse for wear with dark circles under his eyes and sick, pale skin.
Stede startles. “How long have you been waiting there?”
“Not long. Just came to tell you that Ed won’t mind a cat. Likes cats, as a matter of fact. Serve a purpose, he says.”
Stede eyes Izzy up and down, looking for any obvious signs of subterfuge, “Why are you being so forthcoming with this?”
“Tired of fighting,” Izzy shrugs, “Can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, or whatever it is they say.”
Stede nods. “That’s very charitable of you, Izzy.”
“It’s selfish is what it is. I’m old, Bonnet.” Izzy’s voice rings with sincerity, his face more haggard than Stede has ever seen it.
Sensing Izzy’s honesty, Stede nods. “Thank you, either way, Izzy. For all of our differences, I hope this is a fresh start for the both of us.”
Izzy shrugs. “Not likely, but I’m willing to accept that Edward has… affection for you,” Izzy turns a little green as if he’s eaten rotten fish, “and no amount of interference from me is going to change that.”
Defeat marks Izzy’s slumped shoulders and is evident in the pained lines around his eyes and the tightness of his mouth.
“We don’t have to like each other, Bonnet. We just have to work together.”
“For Edward.” Stede nods.
Izzy pushes off the wall and walks past Stede, opening the door and looking over his shoulder at the floor. “Yeah, for him.”
He jerks his head in farewell as he closes the door, leaving Stede to a thoughtful silence.
He wanders into his quarters, head down and kicking his feet idly in thought. Stede is so lost in thought, that he doesn’t notice Ed hunched over and making soft cooing noises down into his lap.
“Hey, Stede, come look what I found!”
Stede hums, “What is it, love?”
Ed grins wider than Stede’s ever seen, holding up a small black cat. “Your new mouse management officer!”
Stede freezes.
Ed turns the kitten to face Stede, “He’s hired, right? Look at this little face and tell me he’s not hired.”
Ed frowns, pushes his lips out, and nuzzles the side of the kitten’s face.
“Ed…” Stede starts.
“Can we keep him?” Ed pleads.
“Ed?” Stede tries again.
“Yeah, love.” Ed says it so casually, so easily these days, it’s almost hard to believe they were at odds and contentious only a few weeks ago.
“Are you… alright?”
Ed’s rubs his face against the cats fur, muffling his voice, “Hm? Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, you’ve made your stance on pets quite clear for some time…”
“Ain’t a pet, Stede,” Ed points out, “That’s a mouse management officer. Said so yourself.”
Stede leans in closely, “Ed, are you sure everything’s alright?”
Ed makes a face and shrugs, “Thought I’d change things up a bit. Relax. Anyways, always fancied having a cat.”
Izzy hadn’t been lying after all.
Stede shakes his head, “You’re going to have a hard time explaining that one to Fang.”
“Eh, I’ll talk it through with him. He’ll understand. Cats are practical.”
As if on cue, the kitten slips like water out of Ed’s grip and pounces on a scurrying rodent.
“Did you see that, Stede? Damn cat’s a natural.”
“Are you quite sure you’re okay with a cat on board the ship?”
Ed throws himself back into the chaise, crossing his arms against his chest and glowering at his boots. “Can’t everyone just accept that I’m trying to relax a little and want a fucking cat? Is that so hard, Stede?”
“No, no,” Stede kneels beside Ed, resting a hand on his shoulder, “not at all, love. It’s just an unexpected change, is all. Not a bad one, just unexpected. We’ll talk it through like we always do, as a crew.”
“Here he is, the man of the hour, the one you’ve all been waiting for. Your new Mouse Management Officer! You may applaud.” Ed holds the tiny black cat aloft.
Roach pops up behind Ed, “Actually looks like a her to me. Just saying.” He holds his hands up as he takes a few healthy steps back.
“She?” Frenchie gasps, “You’re saying it’s a woman and a cat?”
The cat wiggles out of Ed’s grasp to pounce on a scurrying mouse.
Pete hops up and down, pointing animatedly at the cat. “Hired! Calling it now! Cat’s hired!”
Lucius purses his lips. “What are we going to call her?”
Black Pete grins. “Cat! Less confusing that way. Then we don’t have to vote on a name.”
Lucius rolls his eyes. “Do you think any of us are seriously calling the cat, Cat?”
A chorus of voices rises in disagreement, each louder than the next. Someone crows, “We always vote on this kind of stuff!”
Frenchie watches, realizing with growing panic that he can’t argue his way out of this. He throws his hands up and stalks below deck. Wee John frowns and gets up to follow Frenchie while everyone continues arguing over each other.
Jim looks aside at the cat. “We could always decide on a different name later.”
Buttons cocks his head to the side, “Nay, the cat says her name’s Cat. Says she’s quite fond of it.”
“You speak to cats and to birds? Hombrecito loco, you sure you’re not a witch?”
Buttons shrugs. “Ye sure you’re not a ghost?“
“Uh… yeah,” Jim sneers.
“But are ye really, really sure?”
Jim stares Buttons down.
He shrugs again and walks off. “That’s settled then.”
“You can’t just say something’s settled and walk off,” Jim yells and rushes off in the opposite direction.
Oluwande looks back and forth before settling on Jim’s retreating back. “Uh, I’m gonna go make sure they’re okay… so… um… Glad to have you aboard, Cat.”
Oluwande salutes the little feline and jogs to catch up to Jim.
The cat is already off, nibbling away on her third kill.
Ed grins. “Cat’s a fucking natural.”
Cat makes herself quite at home in her role as Mouse Management Officer by decimating the mouse population. As she settles aboard the Revenge, Cat finds new ways to keep herself and the crew entertained.
After less than a week on board, Roach confesses to the crew with tears, “This is the only time I’m ever going to say this, but this is a cat I would not eat. Too good at her job.”
She leaves a dead mouse for him as thanks. Roach leaves out a fresh fish for her in return.
Each day, Cat manages to weave her way into everyone’s good graces.
In the library, Lucius pretends to write down Stede’s endless monologues, “Uh-huh, uh-huh.” His pen bobs up and down over Cat’s belly and her back feet bat against the pen. Lucius barks out a laugh that distracts Stede mid-sentence.
“Lucius! Are you even listening? Why aren’t you noting down all these fabulous tips?” Stede walks over. “Oh, hello, Cat! Brilliant, you two take a little break and we’ll reconvene in ten.”
“Sure thing, Captain,” Lucius sings without taking his eyes off Cat.
Stede makes himself comfortable in his favorite chair, props up a book, and after precisely ten minutes feels the soft weight of Cat filling his lap. “Oh, damn. It seems I’ve been detained for the foreseeable future. Maybe we’ll pick this up later, Lucius?”
Lucius tips his head at Stede and blows a kiss at Cat before he makes a quick exit that is as close to running without seeming impolite.
In the early morning, a little after dawn, Ed drinks tea with a dollop of milk and seven sugars. Cat turns her head up at it in disgust.
Ed shrugs. “Takes all kinds, I suppose.”
Cat leaps up off the deck and perches on Ed’s shoulder. It’s become a part of their morning ritual. They enjoy watching the light dance over the water.
“See, look at the way the waves move, definitely gonna be choppy.” His conversations with Cat vary from day to day, but always end up circling back to the weather, the stars, or the shapes of the clouds overhead.
As the day brightens into full morning, Frenchie tunes his lute and proceeds to strum a few notes to entice the remaining mice out. Cat speeds off across the deck into a back flip that lands her murderous little claws down onto her latest victim.
When no is watching, Cat manages to get a chuckle or two out of Frenchie.
Even after the mice stop appearing, Cat comes out every morning just to listen to Frenchie play. After a few more days of this, Wee John notices that when Cat sits next to Frenchie, he doesn’t flinch. He’ll strum a few chords, neither acknowledging nor ignoring Cat. She curls her tail around his leg, and after a few songs, Frenchie reaches down to stroke her fur.
Wee John sheds a tear, hiding it behind his hand. “Stupid cat pulled it off.”
Sometimes, Cat finds her way into Frenchie and Wee John’s room while they’re having some “quality” time. She watches their serenading and soft touches with wide eyes.
Frenchie laughs, “Cat’s a bit of a creeper, isn’t she?”
At mealtime, Black Pete and Fang try to give Cat bits of food off their plate, but much to their bemused chagrin, she won’t eat oranges or bread. She only accepts Roach’s offerings of fish.
While the eradication of the mouse problem is impressive, perhaps the most impressive change appears in the form of the First Mate, Israel Hands.
Izzy makes more of an effort to appear outside of his quarters. The lines on his face look softer and his skin is a little less pale. He talks to the crew, participating in a few of the group activities, but only because Cat sits with him the entire time.
Whenever Izzy finishes a watch shift, night or day, Cat makes her way to his room where she doesn’t leave until he wakes. While Izzy may not sleep much, Cat makes it her mission to stay with him for those few, short interludes. Her purring lullaby helps Izzy sleep deeper and with far fewer nightmares.
She leaves dead mice at his door, certain that the man can’t take care of himself, and Izzy takes it all in with silent gratitude. He’s often seen petting her and whispering softly, “Thank you, Cat.”
No one who hears it ever comments. They know better.
Always on alert, Cat seems to know whenever Oluwande and Jim sit down to play cards. She joins as a silent, watchful player.
Jim murmurs, “Hola, gata.”
Cat blinks slowly once, twice, then lies down. Her purring lulls Oluwande to sleep and if Jim urges them both to lie down, Cat always curls up with them.
Now well into her second week, Cat’s established her role as both superior mouse catcher and pampered crew member.
As the full moon creeps up, Buttons and Cat speak their own language.
“Evening, Caterina. Nice to have you here for the moon glow.”
Olivia joins too, and on those nights she brings two mice: one for Karl and one for Cat. Even as opposing predators, Olivia and Cat get along, or as well as can be expected for a cat and a bird.
Stede watches all of these events unfold with pride, but at night, abed in their quarters, Stede tosses and turns.
After a while, Ed asks, “You okay over there, mate?”
Stede sighs and confesses to Ed, “I have to admit something to you, dear.”
Ed turns over on his side. “What is it, love?”
Stede sits up, gripping the blankets tight to his chest, “Do you remember about two weeks ago when we stopped to restock?”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“Do you recall when I said that I was looking for an old soap shop I’d patronized?”
Ed nods, brushing a hand up and down Stede’s arm.
Stede takes a deep breath and blurts out in one breath, “I lied.”
Ed raises his eyebrow, trying to hide a smile and failing.
Stede clenches his eyes shut, unaware that beside him Ed shakes with barely contained laughter.
“That was my first time there and I was actually looking to acquire a cat for the ship. It’s been eating up at me this entire time and I just … had to tell you the truth. I’m ever so sorry about the subterfuge.”
Ed coughs, “Stede?”
Stede peeks over at Ed, “Yes, love?”
Ed props himself up on his hand. “If we’re both being honest, I already knew.”
Stede jerks his whole body to face Ed, “You did?”
“Yup, chose that as our stop because I knew they had the best mouse catchers this side of the West Indies.”
“But—but you set that course weeks before my meeting with the crew!”
“Yeah… I could see the mouse problem was getting sorta outta control so I calculated that by the time we reached land we’d need a solution. Cat seemed the most logical choice.”
“So, you had all of this already planned?”
Ed smirks, “Could say that.”
Stede throws himself back on the bed. “All that stress! For nothing! Serves me right for not thinking ahead.”
“Hey now! You calling the man I love stupid?”
Stede throws his hands over his face, “I should have seen the problem coming from miles away, like you! I was so blind that I didn’t see our crew hurtling towards mortal peril!”
“I wouldn’t call a mouse infestation mortal peril, mate.”
Stede pouts.
“Would it help if I said I was sorry?” Ed offers.
Stede nods.
“Mate, I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it,” Ed rubs Stede’s arm, “I—I didn’t want to stress you out. I knew you’d get hung up over trying to bring a cat on board. Rule of no pets and all. They’re practical on a ship. They catch mice, bring good luck, and are surprisingly good listeners.” Ed laughs. “Like I said, always fancied having a cat.”
“Me too,” Stede brushes a strand of hair from Ed’s forehead, “especially one like our Cat.”
“She’s the best,” Ed agrees.
Stede gasps, “Is she ever! Why, just yesterday she helped me choose my outfit!”
“That sexy little purple and peach number?”
“The very one!”
Ed bites his lip, nodding his head in thought, “Mmm. That was hot. You should wear it more often.”
“Oh, stop.” Stede blushes.
“Nah, don’t think I will,” Ed kisses Stede’s cheek, “I like seeing you wear fine things.”