A Pirate's Life For Me

Chapter 21 - Batten Down The Hatches

ROBIN

There is no better rush than swimming in the center of the open sea.

Perhaps it seems like a stupid idea, jumping over the side, but it's more than worth it.

I hit the water, wincing as I make contact with the surface. I threw a spyglass (Bill's -- I'll talk to him later) in before me to break the surface tension, but hitting the sea still feels like a slap in the face.

The strong current pulls me under for a moment, but I rise above the tide a moment later. After years of fighting the ocean for survival, using the tides to your advantage becomes second nature. The hot air of The Gulf envelops me once again.

"Robin!"

I look up, shaking the salt out of my eyes. The Fina hovers in front of me, Livi leaning over the railing on the quarterdeck to yell at me.

"Morning, mi amor," I call, tipping my head back to float. 

She doesn't return my grin. Even from down here, I can tell she's rolling her eyes. "Would you get back here?" She bellows. "We will run you down!" 

I just laugh. "C'mon Livi," I coax. "For old times sake?"

"Get up here right now or you die!" She screams, glowering at me from the deck.

"Fine, fine." I smirk at her, stroking toward the Fina. Grabbing hold of the rope, I pull myself up the wall of the ship. Livi watches, eyes flashing with anger and irritation. I've only seen her smile once since I've gotten here. It pains me to see her so miserable.

"Seriously Robin," she snaps. "Grow up."

"Calm down." I swing over the railing, shaking out my hair. 

She glares at me. "You can't do things like that." She frowns. "Too much at stake." 

I do feel a bit bad for provoking her now, seeing how agitated she is. Her hand is clamped over the hilt of her sword, and she clutches the railing with her other hand so hard her knuckles are white. I pry her fingers off the bar. Livi looks at me, eyes rimmed with weariness.

"I'm sorry," I tell her, keeping my hand in hers. "I know this is hard for you. I don't mean to make it worse." 

She sighs in return. "It's okay." She doesn't object when I place a dripping hand on her waist like we're dancing, stepping closer. Her fingers lace themselves around mine. "I'm just a little anxious, that's all."

"Understandable." I smile. "I'd hug you right now but I'm kind of wet."

She just rolls her eyes again and lets go of my hand. "Yea, don't even try," she smirks. "I'm armed."

"True." I chuckle. The crew is working hard around us. Sometimes they spare us a glance, others they walk on by. No one interrupts us -- until Bill does, of course.

"Cap'n," he calls, jogging toward us. "It be looking like a storm ahea'!"

I've always found it amusing how we all speak like any other people when the conversation is one on one, but the moment a crowd is introduced, we become hard core pirates. Well, that's not true for all of us. Bill and Livia weren't born pirates. Many of us were.

"Damn," Livi mutters, squinting toward the sun.

To anyone else, it would seem like a perfectly lovely day with perfectly lovely weather. Not to us.

We can smell the tint of electricity in the air, feel the dampness of the clouds gathering above. And now that I'm looking, I can see the clouds rolling in from east. At best, this could be a quick shower. At worst, it could be a tropical storm.

And since when did we expect the best?

"Batten down the hatches," Olivia says. "We've got a storm on our hands."