My Darling Girl *Disney fanfic*

25. A Pirate's Life

Wendy slowly paced the deck. Hook was sleeping below and Wendy had managed to doze a little. Now though, she was too restless. She came to stop at the ship's bow and paused, standing as motionless as it's figurehead. The sky darkened around her - day turning into night. Wendy stood alone, observing - her catlike gaze narrowing. 

              "Ho, Tiger Lily," Bourne greeted, loping across the deck toward her. Dawn had broken and the sky was a brilliant rosy pink. "It appears we got away. My debt to you is paid." He spoke jovially but Wendy knew that he was keen for her confirmation. His hand rested on the stair rail, his fat rings shining dazzlingly bright. Wendy approached him, closing the gap between them.  

"Tell me about this ship." She replied, settling down on the steps  beside him– her arms resting on her knees  as she fixed the captain with a scrutinising stare. Bourne puffed on his pipe.

"Called it Walter, for my old man." He stared out at the horizon as he spoke. "If he could see her now... ye, nutter would crap 'imself."

Wendy's expression didn't change.

"It's an unusual ship," she commented.

"On account of its captain," he joked, but tension had crept into his drooping mouth.

"On account that the gulls don't circle it. Don't even land on its mast."

"Oh?" Bourne's innocent expression didn't suit him.

"I looked over the side," Wendy continued,  "there aren't any barnacles either."

"Have a man keeping on top of them." He mimed de-barnacling a boat.

"Captain," Wendy's tone was stern. "This ship is enchanted."

Bourne sucked on his pipe with intense vigour, his bushy eyebrows rising up his forehead.

"Enchanted you say?"

Wendy rose to her feet and put her hands on her hips.

"Duncan Jermiah Bourne," she barked sternly – in a perfect imitation of his grandmother, who she'd known so well. "Spill it now. Is this ship enchanted by sorcery or fairy magic?"

"Neither," Bourne squeaked.

"How then?"

"By accident?" He grinned nervously, flashing the gold nuggets that were wedged into his gums.

                 Bourne showed her the ship's helm. "Two years ago, the Walter was badly damaged in a storm," he explained. "We had to do some rapid repairs." Wendy's eyes narrowed at the sight of the wheel. It was metal, painted emerald with flecks of rust that sparkled like gold dust. She reached out and touched its spokes.

"You salvaged this."

Bourne nodded. She tightened her grip on the spoke. Her gut told her to listen to her suspicions. This had come from the Netherland.

"It came up on the rocks in the storm. The ship's not been the same since."

Wendy let go off the wheel, quickly retracting her hand as if the metal had branded her.

"Captain?" Radburn called from the deck, interrupting. Bourne left her to go see what his skipper wanted.