Ship In A Bottle || South Park Pirate AU

Five

In which Kyle makes his reluctant return to South Port.

From his place on the bow, Kyle could see the silhouette of South Port on the horizon, backlit by the sinking sun. He had preoccupied himself for the last two days with routine examinations, but he could no longer ignore the truth. He was back in town, whether he liked it or not. He would simply have to hide below deck and wait it out.

"Exciting, isn't it?"

Lost in introspection, Kyle had forgotten that he was not, in fact, sailing alone. Kenny, the one who had spoken, was beside him, elbows propped up on the railing and scruffy blond hair made scruffier by the wind. Butters and Nichole were lined up next to him.

"I can't wait for this evening!" said Butters, leaning over the side as if he intended to swim the rest of the way.

"We're gonna paint the town red," said Kenny.

"Not literally," said Butters to Kyle, as if he had thought they were planning a mass slaughter.

"I figured," said Kyle.

Kenny's face lit up. "Hey, I wonder if Annie's still around?"

"I—I guess she might be." Butters fell back on his heels, and though his voice was as sweet as ever, Kyle thought he noticed his shoulders slump, almost imperceptibly.

"Who is Annie?" he asked.

"One of Kenny's many ladies," said Nichole. She was looking a little ashen today, dark bags under her eyes. Kyle still had not got the opportunity to examine her, for every time he offered, Craig would materialise out of thin air and chase him off. "He's got some poor girl waiting for him at every port in the West."

"You make that sound like it's a bad thing!" said Kenny, with a rakish grin upon his face. "I prefer to think of it as Kenny's Grand World Tour." He spread his arms to emphasise the drama. "I put on a show at every port we dock in."

"And they say romance is dead," muttered Kyle.

"Hey," said Kenny. "I'm very romantic."

"Don't you worry that sooner or later these girls are gonna get tired of waiting around for you to show up and sweep them off their feet?"

"No," said Butters, unexpectedly. "They never do." Kyle looked at him in surprise, but he only shrugged. "I've met them all. Each as smitten as the last."

"Exactly, Butters!" Kenny puffed up his chest. "See, he knows I'm not the kind of guy you can forget about easily."

Butters smiled, but it seemed unenthusiastic. "I'm going to go pack my bag for tonight," he said, pushing off from his position and heading for the stairs.

"Will you do mine too?" called Kenny, but Butters didn't respond, even though he was still well within earshot.

Shortly before they reached the dock, Stan called a general meeting. "Evening all," he said, as he always did. He looked particularly fetching tonight. The loose white shirt had a neckline in the shape of a low V, with a lace crisscrossed back and forth between each side. The fabric flowed over him like water, smooth and silky. "Before you set off gallivanting about town, I want to make clear exactly what I expect of you. Now, you know I don't like to place restrictions upon you on your nights off, but you all know that we are here on a delicate business matter, so I want no upsets or run-ins with the law. That means no picking fights and no picking pockets." Disappointed grumbles arose from the crowd. He sighed. "Alright, alright. Just a tad bit of picking pockets." This quelled the muttering, until he said, "In addition, the ten o'clock curfew will remain in place." There was a great uproar, so indignant that Stan had to threaten moving the time to nine o'clock instead if they didn't all shut their traps. "I know you're all disappointed. I promise you that at the next port we will more than make up for what we've missed. I'm trusting you all to stay out of trouble." His eyes grew dark. "Don't disappoint me." Everyone fell silent. The only sound was the lapping of the waves and the distant calls of the residents of South Port. "Remember our motto."