My Darling Girl *Disney fanfic*

15. Kill the Wendy Bird

Hook rubbed his aching temples - hangovers were the worst. They'd been on Tortuga, a pirate port, for over a week now. Waiting for a ship bound to the Golden Heart, the capital of the Golden Chain islands. At first, Hook had thought this place was paradise – heavy losses on the pig fights, three brawls and a duel later – he thought very differently. His clothes all stank of stale alcohol and sweat, his nose was broken and he had two black eyes.

"Here, rum." Wendy handed him a tankard. "I wouldn't risk the water." She was dressed as a boy now, since pirate captains were reportedly a superstitious lot, and was going by the name of George. A drunk man jostled their table and, in staggering, spilt rum down Wendy's back. She breathed in deeply through her nose. Patience, they'd be gone for here soon - she reminded herself.

An accordion started up. "Again!" Wendy groaned. "This sodding song, again." They'd been hearing it non-stop. Wendy doubted that she'd ever get the tune out of her head.

"Ohh, a pirate's life is a wonderful life." The patrons joined in, shouting rather than singing and all in a jumbled mess, some taking it slower than others. "A rovin' over the sea."

Wendy buried her face in her hands. "Give me a career as a buccaneer."

Hook slammed his drink down on the table. He withdrew his pistol and fired, causing the accordion player to fall backwards off his perch.

"Next man to start singing – gets a hole in his face!" Hook bellowed angrily. "Right between the eyes!"

There was a sullen silence and gradually everyone returned to talking. A few men were eyeing Hook, trying to gauge if they could take him. Wendy breathed a sigh of relief when they seemed to decide against it and sloped off. Hook speared his meat with his hook, using a knife to saw off chunks.

"You'd kill a man for singing?"

"Badly – yes, I bloody would."

Wendy grinned in her mug.

"Can you sing?" She asked interestedly. Hook nodded.

"I play piano too, well..." His voice trailed off as his gaze slid across to his hook, currently glistening with grease. He used to play piano. "How about you?"

"Not really. I used to sing a bit, but only at church."

"We can duet one time." Hook suggested. Wendy agreed, if only so that she might then get a chance to hear him. The two had spent a great deal of time together now, having faced weeks of being cooped up on ships with only each other for company. The more time she spent talking with Hook, the more he intrigued her. He was a peculiar cynic who, despite his frequent surliness, held some very gentlemanly standards of behaviour. He reminded her of men back in London - in the way he sometimes spoke or addressed people. It was a peculiar comfort. 

And Hook had grown very fond of his little companion. He didn't make friends easily, being very proud and forceful. But Wendy suited him remarkably well, seldom irritating him and never being rude (which he hated the most in a person) but at the same time, not allowing herself to be bullied. They passed the time amicably, drinking, talking and teaching each other games. 

Hook's favourite pastime was when he could successfully persuade Wendy to tell him stories. She had a flare for drama and her eyes shone so vividly when she was swept up in a tale, that he found himself transported also. He had brought a pack of playing cards from a sailor on the Briar Rose, and Wendy was steadily teaching him all of the tricks she'd learnt. As she taught him new games, she'd tell him a little of the places she learnt them from. Hook was well travelled, being a sailor since boyhood, but Wendy had the advantage of time. She'd seen places that no longer existed - cultures that had been conquered and swept into the sea. Hook listened to all she recounted him, envy swelling in his breast.