Archive of Our Own ^beta

Blackbeard’s Delights was the city’s premier thrift boutique, a cozy little brick and mortar nestled squarely in the heart of the shopping district. They had everything you could possibly think of: curio cabinets packed full of antique trinkets, glass displays overflowing with one of a kind jewelry, shelves stuffed with rare books and records and comics, racks and racks of vintage clothing, all personally and painstakingly sourced by the owner, Edward Teach.

Thrifting was a bit of an adventure for Ed. Several times a year, he would set aside a few weeks to travel around the country in search of new stock. A lot of it could be done over the phone and email these days, but Ed preferred the thrill of walking into a new shop, taking in the shelves, and picking up that perfect find. Most of these people didn’t even know what they had, and Ed was happy to take it off their hands.

It was also a chance to get away from his operations manager, Izzy. At least, physically. Sometimes Ed “forgot his phone in his room” when he was away so he could get a little peace, when really he’d just block Izzy’s number for a few hours until he was done shopping.

Things had been getting a bit tedious with the shop, they’d been open so long and had such a loyal customer base that day to day the business practically ran itself. He had a fully competent staff who all seemed to truly love their jobs and were invested in the mission. For the most part, Ed was just a body in the store, a figurehead.

His out of town trips were the only times he ever felt like himself. Away from the hustle and bustle of the shop, away from the seemingly endless piles of paperwork, away from the expectations and bullshit that had grown tiresome after years of wearing him down.

It was getting old, he was getting old, and he wanted to enjoy the spoils of his success before it was too late, but every time he talked about stepping down, Izzy would be breathing down his neck about being Blackbeard and the “face” of the company and people coming to the shop for Blackbeard. Who would come to the shop if not for a chance to get a glimpse of the elusive Blackbeard? Ed had stopped bringing it up, it was easier that way, but he couldn’t help himself when Izzy had been badgering him again.

He’d been extra up his ass because Ed dared to make a joke a couple of weeks ago. It wasn’t even anything serious, but Izzy latched onto it with teeth and claws.

“I really think you should consider opening another shop,” Izzy had said, standing in his office. It wasn’t the first time he had brought it up, and Ed felt no different about the prospect than all the other times Izzy had mentioned it.

“No.”

“People already fly in specifically for Blackbeard’s, think of what this could mean for the brand.”

The brand. Ed was sick of the brand, he couldn’t give two shits about the brand. He didn’t open Blackbeard’s for “the brand.”

“Who gives a shit, Iz? I already have enough on my plate as it is.”

“Just think about it. If you open another shop in New York, or L.A., expand your mission, you could help a lot of people.”

Ed narrowed his eyes and looked at his manager. Izzy never gave a fuck about the mission before. New York? L.A.? That was a much larger scale than he was used to in his small city. He grew up here, he had influence here; people knew him and trusted him, it’s half the reason the mission worked in the first place. He wasn’t willing to risk that by splitting his attention across the country.

Blackbeard’s had been a regular fixture in the city since they first opened their doors twenty years ago, and Ed had worked hard to maintain a good relationship with the community. He knew what it was like to wonder when his next meal was coming, or if they’d make it all the way through winter with a working heater—from the beginning, investing in the neighborhood was a top priority.

Having grown up in the area gave him a slight advantage when he approached local charities he had frequented as a child. He was able to partner with a homeless shelter to supply them with excess clothing donations, and set them up with a regular shipment of underwear, socks, and toiletry needs. The local food bank was happy to work together with Blackbeard's to host a bi-weekly soup line at no cost to them, setting up a make-shift mess hall in the back courtyard to let everyone have a place to relax.

On top of the donations, Ed worked closely with several city councel members to set up funds for local business and struggling community members, giving them access to resources to help them get back on their feet.

It was his way of giving back, of saying thank you to the neighbors who had helped him and his ma during their darker times.

“What the fuck is this really about?”

“I’m serious, Ed—”

“You’re a terrible liar, Izzy. Spit it out.”

Izzy looked about ready to pop. “Fine. We got an extremely lucrative offer for a donation to open a new location in a major city. I think you should consider it.”

“No.”

“But, Edward—”

“Jesus, Iz, I said no. Fucking drop it.”

“I just don’t understand why you don’t want to capitalize on your success? You could have an entire chain of stores! People would eat up the mission bullshit like fucking cake.”

There it was.

“You don’t give a shit about the mission, don’t act like you suddenly care.”

“I care about the business, Ed.”

Ed scoffed. “I’m done talking about this with you. I don’t want to hear another thing about it.”

“You’re making a huge mistake.”

“My mistake to make. Do not bring it up again or you’ll be answering to Pete.”

Izzy sputtered. “You’re not serious.”

No, Ed wasn’t actually serious. As much as he enjoyed having Pete around, leadership was not his strength. He really just wanted Izzy to shut up.

He raised an eyebrow. “Wanna find out?”

Since then, Izzy had made it his personal mission to be Ed’s shadow, latching onto his heels like a lost puppy and watching his every move. It had been weeks now, and he desperately needed some personal space. Thankfully, Izzy had errands outside of the shop today, and Ed took full advantage to reset some of the store displays.

“Hey, boss, where do you want me to put these?” Jim held up a box of old hats.

“Set them on the register, I’ll look through them in a minute.”

Ed had brought up a bunch of stock from the basement; he was taking a trip in a few weeks and he wanted to sell through some of the backstock. He was looking through a box of old records he had forgotten about, pulling out an almost pristine copy of Around the World in a Day.

“Oh, fuck yeah!” Ed immediately ran over and set the record player.

He loved this album. He could remember the day his ma brought it home. “A special gift, just for us,” she had whispered excitedly, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the living room where they danced and sang until they heard the familiar jingle of keys in the front door. He knew this album was hit or miss with most people, but it reminded him of his ma and held a special place in his heart.

“What even is this?” Jim asked, wrinkling their nose as they unpacked a box of knick knacks.

Ed whipped around, wide eyed. “Watch your tone. That’s Prince you’re talking about.”

“This is Prince? Doesn’t sound like anything I’ve heard.”

Ed rolled his eyes. “And what exactly have you heard?”

“Purple Rain.”

“Is that it?” Ed deadpanned. 

Jim shrugged. Ed shook his head and grabbed the box of old hats, walking back to the hat display. He began rifling through the box, organizing all the hats by style, then size, before condensing and filling the display. He enjoyed the tedious work of merchandising, especially when he was feeling particularly stressed out. The busy work was just distracting enough that he could focus on the task at hand, getting lost in his own little world of textile Tetris.

When Izzy was around, he avoided merchandising, opting to keep the peace rather than listen to Izzy complain about Ed doing work that was beneath him. “Blackbeard doesn’t do that shit,” he had said to him once. He mostly stuck to his office and paperwork—there was always paperwork—but really, Ed loved helping with the floor sets. He had a sharp eye, if he did say so himself, and he was going to use the opportunity to put it to good use.

Sometime later, the chime of the front door pulled Ed from his trance. He stepped back and dusted off his hands, taking a moment to admire his hard work. He knew that it wasn’t the most exciting thing ever and people tended to look down on work they deemed “unskilled,” but that didn’t stop Ed from feeling the rush of satisfaction at finishing a freshly set display. 

“Oh, this is exquisite. Lucius, come look at this!”

Ed’s ears perked up. That wasn’t an accent he heard often. He followed the voice around the corner to find a man with golden blond hair and legs for days admiring the 18th-century Spanish wedding suit Ed had miraculously acquired in a rather heated back and forth on eBay. The man reached out to finger the bedazzled sleeve, muttering quietly to himself.

“Careful. Heard it’s cursed,” Ed said casually, leaning against the nearest bookcase.

The man turned around and stunned Ed stupid with his bright, dimpled smile. Oh fuck, he was hot. He was built like a brick, solid and all chest—his berry purple button-up open just enough to see a dusting of blond hair peeking through, the short sleeves straining over his extremely well-toned biceps. A matching beret was perched just so on top of his blond curls and Ed had to ball his hands into fists to contain himself.

“Cursed, you say?” he replied, giving Ed a lingering look that sent sparks shooting down his spine. “You don’t believe in curses, do you?”

That low cadence and undercover bitchy tone was going to be the death of him, he was calling it now.

“Who’s to say?” Ed waved a hand and shrugged. “Our employees certainly seem to think so.”

The man’s face lit up, if it were possible for the sun to get brighter. “Oh? Do you know Blackbeard then?”

It was like the air was punched from his chest. Of course he was only interested in Blackbeard, it was almost always the first question anyone asked. He was beginning to think he was never going to escape Blackbeard.

“Uh, yeah, somethin’ like that,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Fab! I’ve actually been trying to get in touch with him for a while now,” the man said, clapping his hands together. 

Ed quirked an eyebrow. That was news to him. He held out his hand. “I’m Ed. Maybe I can help you.”

“Stede.”

Perhaps the handshake and the eye contact and the dopey smiles lasted a tad bit longer than was strictly necessary. Ed didn’t mind.

Stede cleared his throat and looked away first, a blush creeping up along his chest under the open collar of his shirt. Ed shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“What can we do ya for, Stede?”

“I recently acquired a collection I think he’d be quite interested in. But this horrible little gremlin keeps telling me Blackbeard doesn’t have time for me.”

Stede wrinkled his nose in such an adorably bitchy manner that Ed couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, I’ll be the judge of that. Show me what ya got.”

Turns out what Stede had was thousands of dollars worth of vintage sewing patterns and fabrics. He had brought a rather outlandishly large suitcase with samples from his collection, claiming it was only a fraction of what he inherited. Dozens of patterns that dated as far back as 1936, yards of printed fabric that had long been out of production, original sewing tools and accessories that looked to be in near mint condition.

“Holy shit, Stede.”

“My grandmother passed several months ago,” Stede said longingly, gently running his fingers over a rather exquisite cashmere. “She was a seamstress, and a hoarder to boot. Never threw out a scrap if she could help it. She was the only decent human being in our family and she was the only one who truly understood me, I think.”

There was a tightness in Ed’s chest, a gentle tug of his heart, as memories flooded his mind of him and his ma in her sewing room. It was mostly just a hobby for her, picking up scraps here and there when she could afford it, but some of Ed’s favorite memories of his ma are sitting on the floor of her sewing room, helping darn his father’s old socks while she sang horribly off-key to ABBA.

Stede sighed and pulled out an old sketchbook from under the fabric samples, flipping through decades worth of designs. Ed watched quietly as Stede seemed to get lost in the drawings. There was a tightness to his brow, a purse to his lips, and it was all Ed could do to not reach out and smooth away the tension.

“Hey, man,” Ed said softly, placing a hand on Stede’s shoulder instead. “You sure you want to give this stuff away? Seems like it means a lot to you.”

Stede gave him a sad smile. “Unfortunately, I don’t have much use for it. I’ve already kept anything that has sentimental value, but I haven’t the foggiest of what I’d do with the rest of it. My kids weren’t interested in it, and my ex-wife is more into painting and sketching than textiles. Maybe it’s stupid, but this stuff does mean a lot to me and I did a lot of research trying to figure out what to do with it.

“My assistant told me about this place, actually. The moment I opened the website, I knew this was it. Something about it… felt right. Felt like home.”

Ed gave Stede’s shoulder a little squeeze. He understood that feeling. Stede closed the sketchbook and set it aside.

“So… do you think Blackbeard would be interested?” He looked up at Ed from under his lashes, eyes glittering and bright. 

A wide smile stretched across his face. “Yeah, mate. I reckon he would.”

+++

Stede and Ed began sorting through the ridiculously large suitcase, putting everything into piles for further examination. Stede had sent Lucius back to his penthouse (Ed tried not to dwell on that too much) to collect the rest of the items; Ed had Pete tag along to help, though the look Lucius gave Pete as they walked out of the shop made Ed a little nervous.

“This is fucking fascinating, man,” Ed said, a little breathless, as he dropped the last item into its respective pile. “And it’s all in such great condition. Your grandmother must have really loved this stuff.”

“She was very proud of her possessions and kept meticulous care of everything. Most of it was given to me individually wrapped, vacuum-sealed inside of airtight totes. She was like that with everything though.” Stede sniffed fondly.

“We’re happy to take them in, mate. I know at least two guys off the top of my head who would fall over themselves for some of these patterns. I’ll have to give ‘em a call.”

Now that they were finished sorting through what Stede had brought with him, Ed began shuffling through the pile of fabrics, awestruck at the quality and excellent condition they were in. There were silks and linens and chiffons and some of the most intricate lace Ed had ever seen. Ed had never had access to fabric quite this fine, watching them slide through his fingers with just a whisper of longing. 

His ma had been quite accomplished with a needle and thread, though nothing to this level. Ed hadn’t grown up with much, his dad had worked as a contract plumber but was usually too drunk to keep any consistent work. His ma would do odd jobs here and there to have a little extra cash, but more often than not putting a full meal on the table at the end of the day was not in the cards. The few times his father coughed up enough money for a trip to Goodwill, they would always buy his clothes just a size or two larger, hemming or tailoring as Ed grew into them.

Everything they had had growing up was scraps, hand-me-downs, bits and pieces. It wasn’t often his ma had access to more than a yard of fabric at a time, so her main speciality was stitching up little stuffed animals: silly and messy and collaged together with mismatched cuts of too-small tee-shirts and old dresses. He only had a handful of them left now, most of them had been lost or damaged over the years, and the few he had left were safely tucked away in the back of his closet.

“Ed, you okay?”

Stede suddenly appeared next to Ed, making him practically jump out of his skin (as if he hadn’t been sitting there the whole time). He had gotten so lost in his thoughts he completely forgot what he was doing. 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, mate, I’m good.”

Stede gave Ed a small smile and a little shoulder bump before turning back to their items. He picked up a pack of patterns, flipping it around as he read the packaging.

They were seated side-by-side on the floor towards the back of the store, the suitcase open and empty in front of them while Jim rummaged around in the basement for containers to hold it all. It had taken them a little over an hour to sort through it. 

 Ed was already a little overwhelmed with what they had, he could only imagine what Lucius and Pete would bring back with them.

To be honest, Ed was feeling overwhelmed in general. It had been quite a while since he allowed himself to think about his ma, and being surrounded by so much that reminded him of her… it was a lot to take in. His gaze jumped from pile to pile, eyes glassy and throat tight. Then there was a hand on his shoulder, gentle and knowing.

He stared down at the hand for a moment before looking up through his lashes, locking eyes with Stede, who furrowed his brow in concern. There was a moment of silent understanding that passed between them as they held each other's gaze, a mutual grief that could only be shared by those who had lost someone very dear.

Time seemed to stretch out before them, an inexorable gravitational pull that aligned the stars in such a way that Ed knew with every fiber of his being that this—whatever this happened to be—was fate.

Stede opened his mouth to speak but Ed simply shook his head once, and then leaned in closer to rest his head on Stede’s shoulder. For a split-second, Ed worried maybe he was being a bit too forward, but Stede immediately relaxed into the touch and they sat in comfortable silence for just a bit longer.

“Here’s all the boxes I could find, boss.”

Jim materialized out of nowhere and dropped the items they were holding, startling Ed and Stede apart. Jim raised a brow at the two men as they dusted themselves off, looking rather sheepish and red-faced.

“All good, hombre?” There was a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of their lips.

“Yeah, man,” Ed grumbled, shooting Jim a dagger-sharp side-eye, snatching a box from the pile. “Should put a fuckin’ bell on you or somethin’.”

“We’ve been at this for a while now,” Stede piped up. “Lucius and Pete should be back any moment—really, I don’t know what’s taking them so long, everything is already boxed up in my living room. Why don’t we get something to eat? It’s about lunchtime anyway!”

Right on cue, Ed’s stomach rumbled and even he had to agree a break sounded pretty good. They decided on the Indian takeout place a couple blocks away and called in their order, Stede and Ed volunteering to go pick it up. He ignored the way Jim was staring at him as they left the shop.

They made their way down the street, the noon sun high in the sky. It had been unseasonably cool for August, what the locals liked to call “false fall”; Ed savored the beginning hints of autumn and turned his face up to the sky, taking a deep breath.

“How long have you worked for Blackbeard?” Stede asked, looking over as they came up on a crosswalk.

“Too fuckin’ long,” Ed said, maybe a little too gruff. Stede looked taken aback. “Sorry, mate. I just mean—been doing this a long time. Anyway, he’s kind of a dick.”

Stede scoffed. “Well, I don’t believe that.”

“And what would you know about that?” Ed fought and lost the battle to not smile at how endearing he found Stede’s vehement disbelief.

Stede looked away then, his cheeks growing rosy. “Oh, well… I, uh, I kind of went down a rabbit hole after looking up the shop's website.”

“Mhm. And what did you find that makes you so sure Blackbeard isn’t a dick?”

“No, it’s stupid. Don’t worry about it.” Stede went quiet and shuffled his feet, embarrassed.

“It’s not stupid. C’mon, now I’m all curious and shit. Can’t leave me hangin’.”

Stede chuckled and sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets before giving him a pleading look.

“Please don’t laugh?”

Ed zipped his lips and crossed his heart. Stede blew out a long breath.

“Okay. After Lucius told me about Blackbeard’s, I was clicking around the website and found the mission statement. You know a lot of these businesses say they support this, that, and the third, but in the end it’s just some tax write-off that benefits the C-Suite, so I did some digging around trying to find out more.

“Being a public company, tracking down the annual budget reports wasn’t too hard. Not only does Blackbeard’s donate to local homeless shelters and food banks, but there are several funds set up to help local business and social services as well. His employees are paid well above a living wage. From what I can tell, Blackbeard himself barely takes home a paycheck.

“Then from there, I found articles and interviews he’s done over the years.” Stede paused and his face flared red. “From the beginning, he has put his money where his mouth is, and I find that extremely admirable. I just have a hard time believing someone as generous and humble as Blackbeard is a dick.”

Ed didn’t really know what to say, overcome with so much fondness at Stede’s words he could just melt into the sidewalk. He had never heard anyone speak about him with such veneration (save for Pete), let alone be so sure about his character just based on a few Internet searches, but Stede sounded so certain that Ed almost believed it.

“Yeah, you say that now. Wait till you meet him,” Ed deflected, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest.

“Well, if he’s half as pleasant as you, then I’ll call that a win.” 

“Keep buttering him up like that, he just might come out of hiding.”

There was a sparkle in Stede’s eye he quickly attempted to hide, but Ed saw it. He tried to tamp down the disappointment he felt. Over the years, he had managed to keep his public image fairly private; there were very few, if any, pictures of him on the Internet. Obviously, that was part of the draw for a lot of people who came to Blackbeard’s—just the chance to even possibly, maybe, hopefully catch the slightest glimpse of the neighborhood legend. Didn’t happen often though.

“You think that’s all it’d take? A few pretty words and I bat my eyelashes at him?”

Stede suddenly turned and fluttered his eyes in Ed’s direction, jutting his bottom lip out in an over-exaggerated pout. And, yeah… Ed reckoned that’d be all it’d take. He swallowed the frog in his throat and gave Stede a tight smile. 

“Stranger things have happened.”

“I don’t know about that.” Stede laughed. “I’m sure he’s got plenty better things to do than bother with me and my stupid ideas.”

“Aw, fuck, c’mon, mate. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Ed could see the restaurant up ahead, and Stede remained quiet, looking rather red-faced and sheepish. 

“Wait, did you have something else you wanted to talk to m—uh, Blackbeard about?”

Stede didn’t respond and instead opened the door for Ed to let him in first. He let it drop as Stede paid for their order at his insistence and made their way back to the store.

“Do you not enjoy it?” Stede asked, finally breaking his silence. 

“What d’you mean, mate?”

“Blackbeard. Working for him, I mean.”

Ed pretended to think about it for a moment and blew out a heavy breath. “Nah, it’s not that. Like I said, been doing this for a long fuckin' time, it kind of loses its charm after a while, y’know?”

“Do you know him well?”

Ed nodded, not trusting himself to speak. 

He knew he should probably tell Stede, come clean about Blackbeard, and really he hadn’t meant to deceive him, it was nice just to be… Edward, for once. Everyone around him had this expectation of him—this idea of who he should be, how he should act, what he should wear—and to be perfectly honest, it was fucking exhausting. Stede was the first person to talk to him like he was a human being and not some fucking hermit cryptid to be found and studied. He wanted to hold on to that a little longer.

There was a moment as they walked down the street, neither of them saying anything. Finally, Stede seemed to find his voice, though it came out low and unsure.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Fire away, mate," Ed said, taking a sip of his coconut milk.

"Do you think he'd be interested in a partner?"

Ed choked on his drink, coughing and almost tripping over his own feet. Stede thumped him on the back a few times, placing a hand on his arm to help him keep his balance. Ed cleared his throat and took a second to catch his breath. Stede kept his hand on his back, looking at him with concern.

"All good?" he asked.

"Yeah, sorry, wrong tube." Ed laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Partner, huh? Pretty ambitious."

Stede looked a little flustered, removing his hand from Ed's back, anxiously spinning the chunky gold ring on his forefinger.

"Ah, yes. I've always been told I have rather grandiose ideas. Forget I said anything. I told you, it's stupid."

Ed scoffed. "It's not stupid, man. Maybe a tad… overeager, but you wouldn't believe some of the fucking emails that come through."

"Thank you for that. That's very kind." Stede gave him a grateful smile.

"I'm serious! Anyway, did you have more to that, or just offering up a partnership?" Ed teased, nudging Stede with his elbow.

Stede's face flamed red, and he looked down, chuckling to himself. "I may or may not have an entire proposal drawn up."

"Fuck off."

"I've had quite a lot of time to think about it. It's a very tight proposal, if I do say so myself." There was this arrogant puff to his chest as he said it that Ed found obscenely sexy.

"Fucking incredible, mate," he said, shaking his head, forcing himself to stare ahead.

Partners. Now, that was a concept Ed hadn't considered.

"Can I ask what all is in your proposal?" he asked as they walked into the shop.

He led them back to the employee lounge and began setting out the food as Stede happily told him all about his big ideas, and, from what Ed could tell, Stede really had done his research. There was the initial partnership and all the boring business bits that went along with that: division of responsibility, ownership, expectations around the shop, what Stede brings to the table, et cetera, et cetera. Important stuff, all of it pretty standard and straight forward, sure, but that wasn't what caught his attention.

Stede had so many great ideas—fundraisers, concerts, classes, community nights, and that wasn't even half of it—he had connections that Ed didn't and access to resources he had been trying to get a hold of for years. With Stede also came Lucius, who was well-versed in social media management, of which Ed had desperately avoided at every turn despite years of insistence from his employees. Ed listened, enraptured, watching Stede excitedly hop from one idea to the next, the obvious passion and joy he got from just thinking about joining the crew and everything they could accomplish.

For the first time in a very, very long time, Ed was excited about the future of Blackbeard's.

"Oh, and I'm saving the best for last!" Stede said excitedly, his face lighting up like the sun. "Or, well, I think it's the best, anyway."

"What's that, mate?"

"Well, Blackbeard's does a lot with their donations and the community funds, and I had a thought that maybe incorporating a sponsored scholarship would be a great way to try and get the younger generation interested. I was thinking it could be fashion focused—design, marketing, history, that sort of thing. This one is a bit self-indulgent of me, I'll admit. I just… I really wanted to do something in memory of my grandmother. She gave up a lot for a life she didn't have much say in, I'd like to maybe help make others' dreams come true."

Ed sat dumbstruck, staring at Stede as he ate his meal, completely oblivious to the effect his words had. Here he was, saying the absolutely perfect words, somehow uttering the exact right thing to bring Ed to tears, and he didn't even have a clue. Ed cleared his throat and took a bite of his food before answering.

"I—uh, I think she would have liked that," he finally managed to choke out.

Stede gave him a small smile. "I thought so, too. I just hope Blackbeard agrees."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence." Stede beamed at him.

Ed looked down at his plate, the guilt bubbling in his gut.

"Uh, yeah, mate, about that—"

"Hey, boss, we're back!" Pete busted into the employee lounge, the door slamming against the adjacent wall. He cringed at the sound. "Oh, sorry, sorry!"

"Pete, man, c'mon. We've talked about this." Ed groaned, shaking his head.

"That's my bad, boss. Won't happen again!" Pete gave him a salute, which Ed had, also, asked him to stop doing.

"You said that last time, too," he grumbled under his breath before fixing his face in a strained smile. "Did you get everything back okay?"

"Oh, yeah, great. All good! Jim is helping unload Lucius' car now."

"Fantastic, why don't you go and help finish that up."

Pete gave him another salute and left, leaving the door wide open behind him but was replaced rather quickly by Lucius, who was furiously typing away on his phone.

"Hey, Stede-ifer, if there isn't anything else you need, I'm gonna head out." Lucius finally looked up from his phone and raised an eyebrow, gaze flitting between the two men.

"Oh, well, I was actually hoping you'd be around when Blackbeard got back so we could both talk to him, if that's okay."

Lucius fixed Ed with a hard stare. "Is that so?"

Ed squirmed under the scrutiny, pushing his chicken and rice around. Okay, so… Lucius knew; if Ed had to put money on it, Pete opened his big, fat, excitable mouth. Pete had always been his biggest liability when it came to keeping his identity under wraps. He avoided looking Lucius in the eye. Stede didn't seem to notice the tension.

"And when do we expect Blackbeard to make an appearance?"

"When he's good and fuckin' ready, I reckon," Ed grouched, stabbing a piece of chicken with more force than needed.

"Ri-ight." Lucius tapped at his phone again. "Well, if Blackbeard isn't going to show up anytime soon, I'm leaving. I have a date to get ready for."

"It's barely one in the afternoon," Stede said, his face pinching in annoyance. "Why do I even bother giving you a salary?"

"You'd be lost without me otherwise. I'll see you tomorrow, Stede." Lucius turned to leave, but not before leveling Ed with a knowing look. "Don't wait too long."

"I swear that boy is going to send me to an early grave," Stede groused half-heartedly, shaking his head.

"'Till death do you part."

"Certainly feels that way sometimes." Stede laughed.

A warm, bubbly feeling spread through his chest in response, and Ed thought it was slowly becoming his favorite sound. He wanted to hear it again, to have the melodic tones of Stede's laughter ring through his brain like a wind chime on a breezy day, and he would do just about anything to hear it again.

"Hey…" Ed said, as he smiled at this insanely fascinating man in front of him. "D'you wanna do something weird?"

+++

The dressing rooms at Blackbeard's were little more than two makeshift stalls built with PVC pipe separated by curtains tucked into the far corner of the store.

The look on Stede's face when he handed him the Spanish wedding suit was enough to keep Ed going for at least the next week. He didn't even have to explain, Stede was all on board immediately and followed him to the sales floor without question.

There was this wedding dress that had come in a few years ago and Ed was honestly shocked no one had picked it up yet. It was a gorgeous, vintage 1940s floor length figured satin dress with long sleeves and a modest Queen Anne neckline. Intricately woven details of delicate flowers and elegant leaves were perfectly patterned across the fabric, flowing down into a full chapel train. Ed's favorite details were the side zipper and complementary brooches pinned to the collar. Sometimes, he thought modern wedding dresses were too sleek, too perfect, missing the whimsy of visible functional details, like a side zipper; he had fallen in love with it the second he laid eyes on it, selfishly hoping one day he'd be able to snatch it for himself.

Maybe today was that day.

"Doin' alright in there, mate?" Ed called, trying unsuccessfully not to laugh at the sounds of struggling coming from Stede's stall next to him as he folded up his clothes.

"Uh—" there was a grunt followed by a small yelp, the curtains rippling slightly "—y-yeah, just a bit more complicated than I was expecting."

Ed took a moment to stare at the dress, running his fingers over the silky fabric. His ma would have loved this dress, she would have loved seeing him in this dress. He smiled sadly to himself and closed his eyes before taking a deep breath and allowed himself a few beats to gather his composure.

Okay. He was ready now.

"Fuck!"

Ed whipped around, barely stepping aside in time as Stede came barreling through the curtains ass first. He landed on his back with a heavy "unf," pants around his knees, blinking up dazedly as Ed bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Stede shook his head and turned to look over, getting a full body view of Ed standing over him in just his briefs. His eyes widened and face went tomato red, spreading down his chest as he sputtered in mortification.

"Oh, Ed, I'm so sorry. I-I don't know what happened. I was trying to get the pants on a-and my foot got caught. I lost my balance—"

"'S'all good, mate." He really wasn't doing a good job at keeping the amusement out of his voice.

Stede was struggling to stand and desperately trying not to look directly at him. Ed found it charmingly chivalrous, but also felt a rush of smug satisfaction. He finally decided to stop enjoying watching the poor man flounder and help put him out of his misery, reaching out a hand to pull Stede up to standing. The changing stalls weren't very large, so it was a close fit with the both of them in there. Stede's pants were still halfway off and he reached down to pull them up, the blush deepening even further as he realized just how close quarters they were.

"Sorry again," Stede said, straightening up, clearly putting in a lot of effort to maintain some semblance of eye contact and not let his gaze wander. Not that Ed would mind.

"Nothin' to apologize for," Ed said, looking down at him, his voice coming out lower and a bit breathier than intended. He hadn't noticed the height difference earlier, and really it was only a couple of inches, but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't doing something for him.

They stood there, suspended in time, neither one making a move to leave. The air was charged, crackling with a fierce intensity as Ed watched Stede's eyes dart over his face and a flurry of emotions cross his features. He could feel a warm simmering wave building in his gut, a flush of wanton desire so consuming it almost made him dizzy. He quickly considered his options, weighed the pros and cons, deciding just how willing he was to risk the first effortless connection he had made in… decades.

Fuck it.

Ed swayed ever so slightly forward, raising his hand to bring it to Stede's face. It was a quick thing, only imperceptible if Ed hadn't been looking for it—the slightest inhale and widening of the eyes followed by a subtle rock back on the heels. He slammed the brakes and corrected course in the best way he knew how: fist bump to the shoulder.

Real smooth, Teach.

"Right, well, I'm just gonna—" Ed jabbed his thumb towards the dress.

"Oh, yes, of course."

A look passed over Stede's face that Ed couldn't quite read before he gave him a brilliant, dimpled smile and turned around to slide back into his own stall. Ed let out a long, shaky breath, willing his pounding heart to slow the fuck down so he could breathe properly again.

Ed worked himself into the dress, trying not to think about the look on Stede's face or how he probably just made things weird, and not the fun kind of weird. From the sounds of it, Stede had managed to get the suit on without further incident. Ed stood in front of the mirror, taking in his reflection. It was just the slightest bit too tight in the waist and the chest a touch too loose, but he didn't care, he was finally in the dress. He turned this way and that, watching the train bunch up around his feet in the small space.

It was such a simple thing, a small moment—putting on a dress—yet it felt like a momentous occasion in its own right and he wished his ma could be there to see it. He took a deep breath and smoothed down the dress, blinking the sting from his eyes and pinching at his cheeks. Ed gathered up his hair haphazardly in one hand, pulling a few strands around his temples to frame his face. Once he was satisfied, he fussed around trying to recreate the perfect messy bun. He successfully managed a decent approximation on the third try.

"Good enough," he whispered to himself.

He took one last look before pulling the curtain aside and stepping out. Stede had his back facing him, talking to Jim animatedly as they stood with their arms crossed, thoroughly unamused. They looked over Stede's shoulder and let out a low whistle.

"Lookin' good, boss."

Ed gave Jim a small smile in return. Stede turned around, adding just enough extra flair to send the tails of the blazer twirling around his knees. He looked like he was about to say something, or in the middle of saying something—Ed wasn't sure, his ears were ringing from all the blood rushing to his head—but whatever he was in the middle of doing, it didn't matter now because Stede had focused his full attention on Ed.

"Oh, Ed."

The way his name sounded falling from his lips, wonderstruck and a little breathless, immediately sent his cheeks aflame.

"I heard it's bad luck to see the bride in her dress before the wedding," he deflected, wringing his fingers nervously.

"Well, I heard this suit is cursed."

Cursed or not, the suit fit him like a glove. He had ditched the beret, which put his gorgeous wavy locks on full display, hastily brushed back from his face giving him a sort of windswept look that Ed was really into.

"I don't know, mate. Sounds like the odds are stacked against us."

"Are you superstitious, Edward?" Stede raised an eyebrow.

Ed ignored the way his stomach flipped. "Maybe a little 'stitious."

Stede's mouth twitched. "Got my work cut out for me, then."

"Might do. I'm very high maintenance."

"I can handle it."

A thrill ran down Ed's spine at the implication and the look on Stede's face had him questioning whether or not this was all part of the bit or something more than that. Because he was definitely interested in more.

Jim coughed, rather dramatically, breaking the two men from their increasingly intense eye contact.

"Can we help you with something?" There was that bitchy edge to his voice again. Ed bit back a smirk.

"Nope."

"Hey, Jim, why don't you go and set the record player or something?" Ed suggested.

A concerningly impish smile crossed over Jim's face. "Don't mind if I do."

He immediately regretted it. He made a mental note to fire Jim later.

I could lose my heart tonight
If you don't turn and walk away

They stood staring at each other, the tension so thick Ed thought he might choke on it.

Cause the way I feel, I might
Lose control and let you stay

Something happened then, a minute shift, a key clicking the last tumbler in place.

Cause I could take you in my arms
And never let go

Stede straightened up, putting one hand behind his back and holding out the other.

"May I have this dance?"

Ed placed his hand in Stede's as he pulled him closer, resting his left hand at the small of his back.

"Is this okay?"

Ed simply nodded, unable to speak, letting Stede guide his free hand to his shoulder. His heart was pounding relentlessly. They were standing chest to chest now, practically breathing the same air, so close that Ed could see the golden flakes glittering in the green pools of his eyes.

I could fall in love (in love) with you
I could fall in love with you (with you baby)

"Just follow my lead," Stede whispered, giving him a warm smile and began to step in time to the music.

I can only wonder how
Touching you would make me feel
But if I take that chance right now
Tomorrow, will you want me still?

Ed followed effortlessly, his body responding to Stede with alarming familiarity, as if they had danced together a million times before. Stede swept him around the shop with practiced ease, only the sounds of Selena and the quiet rustle of his dress floating through the air.

So, I should keep this to myself
And never let you know

It was just Ed and Stede, the world shrinking and pulling away, leaving him weightless and he could just feel Stede's fingers flex along his lower back. It was almost too much, too overwhelming, too… earnest—a mind-melting sincerity that had completely overtaken the bit and sent Ed's head spinning.

I could fall in love (in love) with you
(I could fall in love with you)
I could fall in love you with you (with you baby)

Ed thought back on his life, trying to remember a time he had ever been so affected by someone. The closest he could come up with was an old boyfriend from way too long ago, and even then, this couldn't compare to that. That was puppy-love, child's play, a blip on the radar of life experiences. This was different.

This was groundbreaking.

This was world shattering.

This was…

And I know it's not right
And I guess I should try to do
What I should do
But I could fall in love

Ed couldn't bring himself to put a name to it—not yet—but, if he was being honest with himself, he knew it wouldn't take long. He could practically see their entire future play out as they stared into each other's eyes like a one-reel montage in his mind, flipping through snapshots of their life together. The kind of life Ed had only ever dared to dream of, the kind of life he always thought would never be for him.

Now, it suddenly seemed like maybe it was possible, like it was just within reach, and he wasn't sure what to do with that. Here he was playing house with a man he just met who didn't even know who he really was. He was almost certain it would change everything once Stede actually found out. And then where does that leave Stede's proposal? Was this something they'd be able to pursue if he became involved with Blackbeard's? Mixing business and pleasure never ended well…

So, I should keep this to myself
And never let you know
I could fall in love (in love) with you
(I could fall in love with you)
I could fall in love (in love) with you (with you baby)

The song was coming to an end and Ed found himself wishing they could stay in this moment forever. Thinking about how they could run away and never look back, maybe to, like, China or something—Stede seemed like the kind of guy to agree to such an insanely stupid and poorly thought out plan—he could finally be free of all the bullshit expectations constantly foisted upon him.

Stede had steered them back to the center of the store, slowing down and guiding Ed in more of a slow sway than an actual dance. The song ended and it was just the two of them, Stede's hands on his waist and Ed's arms around his neck. Almost of their own volition, Ed began running his fingers through the hair at the nape of Stede's neck. There was a palpable energy between them now, crackling with a fiery intensity Ed was sure was going to consume them both.

Whatever this thing between them was, all he knew was that he wanted more, whatever that meant.

Stede surprised him then, a resolute sort of determination settling on his face, as he tightened one arm around Ed's waist to bring him even closer.

Ed let out an involuntary gasp at the sudden move.

His other hand began sliding up Ed's back, coming to rest on the back of his neck, his thumb tracing gentle circles at the hinge of his jaw. Ed watched his golden-green eyes scan rapidly over his face then flick down before leaning in and hesitating, meeting his gaze once more.

Ed saw the question form between them and nodded once, feeling his heart practically beat out of his chest.

"What the fuck?"

If this was a movie, there would have definitely been some sort of record scratch, freeze frame thing happening. Ed whipped around to find Izzy looking on in horror, his beady eyes darting from Ed to the dress to Stede and back again.

Fu-uck. This was the last thing he wanted to deal with right now.

"The fuck's all this, then?" Izzy gestured between the two men. "Playing dress up with the merchandise like a couple of schoolgirls?"

"Fuck off, Iz,” Ed said, doing his best to keep his voice flat and unaffected, trying not to let Izzy’s dig get to him.

There was a hand on his elbow and Ed looked up to see Stede had moved to stand next to him.

"Hey. Everything okay?" he asked softly, giving Ed a reassuring smile.

"Who the fuck are you?" Izzy snapped, giving Stede his best death glare.

"Oh. Is that Blackbeard?" Stede leaned over and whispered, looking affronted. "You were right, he is a dick."

"No, uh, I'm Blackbeard." Ed's stomach dropped through the floor.

There was no response at first. He looked down, wringing his hands together nervously; he couldn't bring himself to meet Stede's eye and see that inevitable look of starstruck wonder or utter betrayal; he wasn't sure which would be worse. It was quiet for a beat longer, and then Stede gave his elbow a gentle, reassuring squeeze, remaining in place.

"I'm Stede Bonnet. Who are you?" He turned his attention back to Izzy, looking down his nose with that signature bitchy look Ed was coming to lo—

"You're Mr Bonnet?"

"Wait, I recognize your voice," Stede said, narrowing his eyes. "You're that awful man on the phone who told me Blackbeard wasn't taking any meetings."

Ed crossed his arms, frowning. "I never said that."

"It wasn't worth your time, Edward,” Izzy said, contempt dripping from every word.

"What the fuck, Izzy? Don't you think that's for me to decide?"

"You have more important things to focus on other than listening to whatever drivel this ponce thinks you need to hear." Izzy cut a hard glance at Stede, who, to his credit, gave just as good as he got.

"Like what?" Ed asked, throwing his arms up, exasperated.

Fucking typical. It was like Ed wasn't even his own person. He didn't know how many times he could have this same argument with Izzy, the man never fucking listened.

"Like meeting with Nigel and Chauncey about their offer."

"Who?"

"The Badmintons?" Stede interjected, wrinkling his nose.

"Is there a problem with that?" Izzy hissed.

Stede shrugged. “Don’t go around making it a habit to do business with men who couldn't tell their ass from a hole in the ground. Obviously money can’t buy brains.”

"Oh, yeah?" Izzy puffed out his chest and stepped forward.

"Okay, that's enough. Izzy, what the fuck are you on about?"

"The donation offer, Edward," Izzy said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"The donation—Iz, I fuckin' told you I'm not doing that!" Ed pinched the bridge of his nose and took several deep breaths.

"Why not? It's a great opportunity and think about what you could do with the money they're offering."

"Then it's not a donation, it's a fuckin' carrot on a string. If they actually wanted to donate the money, they would have done it by now."

"How would you know? You haven't even read the proposal!"

"I don't have to read it!" Ed shot back.

"Oh, right because you know everything about fuckin' everything?"

"Alright then, let me take a guess: they want to donate X amount of money for me to open a new location in a major city. Well, I don't even have to guess that, you told me. It'll be a 'recurring donation' with stipulations. They want to pick the city. They want to pick the building location. They want to pick the charity. How am I doing so far?" Ed ticked each point off on his fingers.

He didn't give Izzy the chance to respond.

"They want to pick the design. They want a say in who we hire. They want to know the ins and outs of our operations. They want to put their grubby little fingers in as many pies as they possibly fucking can. And when, inevitably, I do something they don't agree with, they will pull their funding. Am I on the right track, Israel?"

Izzy didn't say anything, just standing there with his arms crossed, the vein on the side of his neck throbbing double-time.

"So, from where I'm standing, it sounds like a lot more than just 'a donation to open a new location in a major city,' as you put it. Dress up a business proposal and pretend it's not exactly what it is all you like, but I'm not that fuckin' gullible."

"That's not what this is—"

"I don't care what it is. It's not happening."

"You're fuckin' impossible, you know that? I’m not going to sit back and continue to watch you run this business into the ground," Izzy said as he stormed off to the offices.

Ed rolled his eyes and watched him disappear into the back, almost afraid to look at Stede. He wasn't sure how this conversation would go, but no time like the present, yeah? Ed took a deep breath and turned around.

Whatever it was he thought was going to happen was stopped dead in its tracks when he met Stede's eye, bowled over by the warm concern radiating off of him like a worried space heater.

"You alright? That was… a lot."

Ed nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Typical conversation with Izzy, I s'pose."

Stede pinched his brows together. He didn't seem to like that answer very much. Not that Ed blamed him, he didn't like it very much either. Sometimes he wondered why he put up with Izzy's shit; it always ended up being more trouble than it was worth.

"Does he always talk to you like that?"

"How d'you mean?"

Stede went quiet for a moment, considering his words thoughtfully. "Like… you're not Blackbeard and just some employee he thinks he can boss around."

Ed didn't respond as his words sank in. They had been working together for so long, he was used to Izzy's outbursts. It was almost a routine at this point: Izzy gets a wild hair up his ass, he and Ed go back and forth, Izzy storms off, they never talk about it again. He didn’t think there was ever a time Izzy hadn’t been angry and uptight. If it wasn’t his outbursts, it was his snide comments or incessant nitpicking. 

It was exhausting having to walk on eggshells and constantly pick his words and adjust his entire demeanor in order to keep Izzy placated. And yet…

"Nah, mate. That's just Izzy. And besides, he kind of has a point. I didn't actually read the proposal."

Stede gave him a sad, knowing smile. "I wasn't talking about the proposal."

"He gets in these moods, it's fine. Just ignore him for a few hours, he'll get over it." Ed waved his hand dismissively, a knot tightening in the back of his throat.

"Still, you shouldn't have to put up with that."

"Really, it's not a big deal. I wouldn't worry about it. He's like that with everyone."

There was a moment of silence and Ed was doing his level best to keep his voice steady. And, sure, Izzy was a dick to everyone, but Ed wasn't used to having people witness it directed at him. He was overwhelmed and overstimulated and he really didn't want to talk about it anymore.

"Can we talk about something else?" He hated how small his voice sounded.

Stede's face crumpled at the request. "I've upset you, I'm sorry. I overstepped."

"No, it's not that—" Ed sighed, took a deep breath, and looked at the ceiling, trying to gather his thoughts "—it's just… it's fuckin' hard sometimes, y'know?"

"For what it's worth, I do think you're right about the proposal. I've known the Badmintons a long time, I wouldn't trust them as far as I could throw them."

Ed scoffed. "Yeah, I don't know why Izzy is so stuck on this. He's been hounding me about it for weeks now."

Izzy had been more… intense than usual. Normally, Izzy would just sulk and be pissy for a few days when Ed told him no, but now he was beginning to suspect there was a lot more to it. But he didn't want to think about Izzy right now.

"Speaking of proposals," Ed said with a smile, tilting his head as he watched the color rush to Stede's face, practically matching the bright red suit.

"Oh, god. Please, forget I ever said anything."

"Yeah, that definitely won't be happening, mate. Look, why don't we get changed and you can meet me in my office so we can talk about it some more?"

Stede gave him a bright smile and walked into his changing stall while Ed grabbed his clothes before making his way back to his office. The office door was ajar when he walked up, which was strange because he always kept it closed. He could hear shuffling coming from the room. Ed pushed open the door to find Izzy searching through his desk, papers thrown about haphazardly.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Izzy looked up briefly before going back to his snooping. "Keeping you from making a huge mistake."

"Jesus Christ, are you serious?"

"If you're not going to do something for this business, someone has to. You've barely been involved lately. I'm the one keeping staff in line. I'm the one that has to deal with your mood swings. Might as well handle this myself, too."

"You're not some fucking martyr, Iz. No one asked you to do that!"

"No, because I have to do everything myself, it seems. And I'm not going to let you pass up a generous opportunity because you want to fuckin’ prance around in your pretty little silk gowns instead of run a fuckin’ business." Izzy sneered at him, as if it was the worst thing he could think of.

Ed's heart lodged in his throat, and he clenched onto the skirt of his dress, probably permanently creasing the beautiful fabric with his vise grip.

"I can't keep doing this with you. Jesus, Iz."

"Read the damn proposal and take a meeting." Izzy stopped rifling through the desk and stared straight at Ed.

He shook his head and scoffed in disbelief as the shame boiled in his gut, heating to a simmering anger. "What is with you and this fuckin' proposal, man? You've been up my ass about it for weeks."

"I don't know why you're not taking this seriously. This could be good for us, good for the business."

"You telling me you actually trust the Badmintons?"

"Does it matter?"

Ed gaped at him. "Yeah, I'd fuckin' say it matters quite a bit. This is my business, or did you forget that?"

Izzy just stared back, not saying anything. This was getting ridiculous. He was used to Izzy trying to throw his weight around, but this was going too far. There was something more to all of this than just "the business."

"What is this really about?" Ed asked, watching the muscles in Izzy's jaw tense.

"This is about you not taking anything seriously."

"Don't give me that bullshit. I've worked my ass off for twenty years to build this business from the ground up."

Izzy scoffed.

"Okay—what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Ed crossed his arms and glared at his manager.

"I'm the one holding everything together! Now, you've turned this thing into a fuckin' fashion show. Prancing around like you're about to walk down the aisle. How is anyone supposed to take that seriously?"

Ed sucked in a breath. "Don't say that to me."

A wave of shame washed over him, angry at himself for allowing Izzy to push his buttons. It was a side of himself he preferred to keep far away from Izzy; he had made it very clear he didn’t approve. He knew Izzy was just trying to work him up and he hated that it was working.

"You've lost your touch. Your head isn't in the game anymore, Edward."

This wasn't anything new he was hearing, Izzy had said some variation of this to Ed many times over the years; often accompanied by the accusation that he wasn't doing enough, or that one idea he had was bad for business, or that he needed to be stricter with his branding, and then turn right around in the next breath to say Blackbeard's is nothing without Blackbeard.

It's funny, Ed thought, how you could hear something over and over again, letting it sink into your psyche, spreading like a festering wound left untreated, until finally there was no choice left but to amputate. It was like a switch flipped in his mind and everything was finally thrown into sharp relief.

"If you hate working here so much, then leave."

The words fell off his tongue, heavy and striking. His heart rate spiked, a rush of adrenaline swept through his veins as a sort of fraught relief settled over him. Izzy seemed to short out, soundlessly working his mouth trying to find the words.

"What?" he so eloquently croaked out.

"If working here is such a burden for you, then go," Ed repeated, more confident this time, straightening his back and lifting his chin (though his hands were shaking like a leaf).

A hollow tapping sound came from behind him, and he turned around to see Stede standing in the doorway, back in that berry button-up and matching beret, his mouth tight and eyes hard. They stared at each other for a moment, that unspoken understanding passed between them once again. Ed took a deep breath before facing Izzy who seemed to still be processing what Ed said.

"Good joke," he finally said, eyes rapidly darting between Ed and Stede.

"Who said anything about a joke?"

Izzy laughed, humorless and dry. Ed stared back at him. He knew that Izzy fully expected him to back down, to kowtow and let him do whatever like he usually did—it was time for Ed to put his foot down once and for all.

“You’re serious? What about Blackbeard’s?”

“What about it? It did perfectly fine without you for over a decade.”

"Don't be ridiculous, Edward. You can't do this all by yourself."

He narrowed his eyes as a sharp lance of anger ripped through his chest. Why he ever let this man get into his head was going to take years of therapy to unpack.

"I'm not sure what gave you that impression, but I do not need you, Izzy."

Izzy sneered and flicked his gaze over to Stede before locking Ed in his sights. Ed knew what was about to come and he was ready for it.

"No one knows this place the way I do. I've been cleaning up after you for years now, good luck finding someone who will put up with your bullshit the way I have."

Bingo.

Ed smirked. "What'd'ya say, Stede? Partners?"

He put extra emphasis on that last word to really drive home just how serious he was. Ed turned and looked at Stede, raising an eyebrow. From the moment Stede walked him through his proposal, Ed knew he was going to say yes. There was no question in his mind. Stede came locked and loaded with new and exciting ideas, a fresh perspective he didn't even realize he had been desperately looking for.

"What the fuck do you mean partners?" Izzy said, the vein in his neck pounding in time with his shallow breathing. "You don't even know this, this—twat."

"And what do you have to offer besides five feet and an anger problem?" Stede spat back, not missing a beat. Ed choked back a laugh, coughing into his hand.

"Watch yourself, Bonnet."

"Or what, gonna keep yapping at my heels? You don't scare me, Iggy." Stede rolled his eyes.

"Izzy," he hissed.

"Whatever. I don't care. I do believe Ed and I were about to finalize the details from our earlier conversation. Now if you wouldn't mind." Stede waved his hand dismissively in Izzy's direction.

"Think about what you're doing, Edward," Izzy said, ignoring Stede's dismissal.

"There's nothing to think about, Iz," Ed replied. "I've made up my mind. I've been telling you for years that I'm fucking tired, man, and you just steamroll over me every time. "

"We can talk about this, no need to make any rash decisions."

Ed couldn't help but laugh. If he didn't laugh he was going to scream. "Like rifling through my office to try and force my hand?"

"I'm trying to do what's best for Blackbeard's."

"You keep saying that. I don't think that's true."

"Everything I have done has been for you—for Blackbeard's! You're just going to throw all of that away?"

"Whatever you need to tell yourself."

"So, that's it then? You're just going to let this ponce swan in and take my place? Just like that?"

Ed could feel Stede puff up beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder to break the tension. He took a good long look at Izzy, watching the realization wash over him. His breathing was quick and shallow, hands balled into fists as his gaze agitated around the room looking for anything to give him a leg up. Ed knew it was useless, though Izzy seemed to be having a hard time accepting it.

Which was understandable, if Ed was being charitable. He had let Izzy push him around and walk over him for years and now all of a sudden he had decided to grow a backbone? Can't say it wouldn't throw him for a loop, too, but enough was enough.

"This has been a long time coming, Izzy, and I think you know that. Stede has nothing to do with this."

"You're going to regret this, Edward."

Something in Ed's brain snapped, an eerie calm washing over him as he stared Izzy down and slowly walked around behind his desk. The office was deathly quiet, his rustling dress a rolling thunder in the silence. He came to a stop and looked down at his manager, a man he had worked closely with for damn near ten years, someone he had once thought might take the reins when he retired. He knew now that had never been in the cards, not for Izzy.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady and sharp as knives.

"The only thing I regret is not doing this sooner. Now leave."

"Ed—"

The man never knew when to quit, and, to be perfectly honest, Ed thinks he deserves to be commended for his restraint.

"No!" He slammed his fist on the desk, his voice booming in the small space. "Damn it, Izzy. I'm not fucking around. I said—leave. Now."

Izzy stared back, a hint of a challenge in his eyes. He was enjoying this, Ed realized and his stomach turned at the thought. He wasn't going to give Izzy the satisfaction.

Ed pulled out his desk chair and sat down to begin cleaning up his desk.

"We're done here."

He kept his gaze firmly on his task, shuffling papers around aimlessly trying to stay busy. Izzy stood there for a moment longer, and Ed wasn't sure if he was waiting for him to break and grovel or if he was about to unleash some new circle of hell only accessible by the fury of Israel Hands. In the end, Izzy huffed indignantly, muttering under his breath as he stormed out of the office, childishly shoulder-checking Stede on his way out.

Ed only allowed himself to relax once the door slammed shut, falling back into the chair with a heavy sigh and running his hands over his face.

What a fucking day.

"I'm sorry you had to be here for all that," Ed mumbled from behind his hands.

"Nah, don't be. You alright, though?"

Ed peeked through his fingers at Stede, who had perched himself on the corner of his desk, legs crossed at the ankle and forearms on full display as they supported his weight. Fuck.

"Yeah… yeah, mate. I'm good. Relieved, I think," Ed said honestly, finally looking straight at Stede.

They just stared at each other for a few seconds, letting the moment settle between them. Ed's heart was still pounding in his chest, though maybe for different reasons now. He folded his hands in his lap, taking a deep, centering breath.

"I kind of cornered you back there, sorry about that," Ed said, picking at his cuticles. "I appreciate you going along with it, but I understand if you want to take some time to think about it after that… scene."

Stede didn't answer at first, his eyes darting curiously over his face.

"Did you mean it?" he asked quietly, looking down at the floor as if he couldn't bear to hear the answer.

"I'm all in, mate."

Stede kept his face down, but Ed could see the corners of his mouth turn up in response.

"I do have another question—if you don't mind."

"Shoot."

"Can I take you out for dinner sometime?"

Stede lifted his head, his bright smile now on full display and Ed couldn't help but smile back.

"I think I might like that, yeah."

"Great!" Stede said loudly, wincing at the sound of his own voice.

Ed chuckled and shook his head, looking around the office. It looked different somehow, brighter, more hopeful. It was amazing what clearing out a storm cloud would do for your perspective.

It was the end of an era, so to speak, and while Ed was relieved to finally be done with having to censor himself constantly, there was still a part of him that mourned Izzy leaving. It didn't make sense to him, really. Why mourn something that had caused him almost nothing but strife and misery? It was a mild comfort, knowing he was better off, but now there was this part of his life that was going to drastically change, and it was bringing up a lot of complicated feelings.

But with the end of an era comes the beginning of a new one, and if there was one thing for certain, it was that Ed couldn't wait to see what this new chapter had in store for him.

He pulled his hair from its tie before he looked over at Stede, who had busied himself with a loose thread in the seam of his chinos, and idly wondered if any of this would have happened had he not walked into his shop that morning.

Probably not.

"Hey," Ed said, catching his attention. Stede looked up at him, his hazel eyes sparkling bright green in the sunlight. "What'd'ya say we get that dinner tonight?"

Stede gave him a devastatingly smitten smile.

"I'd love that."

They finalized the details and exchanged phone numbers as Ed walked Stede back to the front of the store. Ed was still in the dress and needed to go home and wash the day away before doing anything else, so they agreed to have Stede meet him at his apartment in a few hours. They lingered at the door, nervous and awkward like a couple of teenagers, though it was clear neither was willing to be the first to say goodbye.

Stede looked down at his hands, twirling that chunky gold ring again.

"I did have just one more question… if that's okay," Stede said finally, taking a small step forward.

Ed nodded silently and shuffled a bit closer, closing the remaining distance between them so they were toe-to-toe. Stede looked at him as if he couldn't believe that Ed was standing right in front of him, like he was a treasure worthy of adoration and devotion. That was definitely going to take Ed some time to get used to and he was certain his heart was going to beat right out of his chest.

Stede reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind Ed's ear and it was all he could do to not buckle at the knees. He trailed his fingers along his jaw, eyes scanning over his face like he was trying to memorize every line, curve, and angle. Ed was drunk with it, drinking in every last bit of attention until he was dizzy.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yeah. Fuck yeah."

Stede anchored his hand on the back of Ed's neck and pulled him in. They each melted into the other, the world falling away around them. Ed fell into the kiss body and soul, feeling truly grounded for the first time in far too long. He could definitely get used to this. It could have been ten seconds or ten hours, Ed couldn't be sure, the kiss seeming to last forever and yet ending much too soon.

Stede pulled away first and gave Ed a breathtakingly besotted smile, running his thumb over the apple of Ed's cheek once before bringing his hand to his own head. Ed watched curiously with wide eyes as Stede removed the beret to place it just so on top of his head.

"You wear fine things well, Edward," he said, eyes sparkling with a profound earnestness that sent a shiver down Ed's spine.

Ed scoffed, his entire body lighting up from the praise. This man was un-fucking-real.

"Fuck, man. How are you real?"

Stede gave him a smile so bright it could rival the sun. He would never get sick of the sight.

"I guess you'll have to find out for yourself. But as it just so happens, I have a date to get ready for." Stede reached for the handle and pulled the door open, tossing Ed a wink as the door shut behind him.

Ed stood there in his dress and beret as he watched the man who casually waltzed into his shop and irrevocably changed his life forever drive away. As he walked back to his office to change back into his clothes, he smiled to himself, ghosting his fingers over his lips, and made a mental note to give Jim a raise.