Rating: NC-17

The wind drove the rain as if it were a sadist using a whip upon the body of the Sea Wolf's first mate. Each drop stung James Ellison like the bite of a cat o' nine tails. It took his breath away and forced salty tears from his eyes. The rain soaked through his long leather coat, shirt and breeches, leaving him as wet as if he'd stood naked in the storm. His clothes clung to him. In other circumstances, he might have enjoyed the feeling, especially if Blair had been on hand to help him remove his attire, to kiss and caress each newly exposed area of skin, but the captain of the Sea Wolf was below in the waist of the ship, helping make the weakest masts secure by tying off the ropes and rigging.

James moved his feet forward along the wet deck, his upper body pushed against the storm, one hand on the rail, as the ship heaved around him. It had been his own idea that his enhanced senses would help him steer in this weather better than the other men. His captain and lover wasn't convinced.

"I'm not so sure they function like that, James. A blinding flash of lightning could send you into a void."

But James had insisted he try. So here he was fighting against the storm, hoping that his idea would work.

He climbed the few slippery steps up to the quarterdeck and stood for a moment, focusing on the far end of the ship. Beyond it, the sky was as black as pitch. The forward end dipped low in a furrow between big waves, causing the aft to rise out of the water. It felt like the sensation James remembered from his childhood -- that of being on one end of a seesaw, and leaving his stomach behind for a second -- but this was a hundred times more frightening, as the stern of the ship plunged down again and hit the sea, sending sprays of salt water high up in the air. He shook his head to try and clear it, then took over the helm from the sailor on duty.

James had never told Blair how much deep water filled him with dread. He couldn't admit to this... weakness, not even to the one person with whom he shared his life and soul. All through his sea-borne career, he'd had to force the fear down, ocean deep, divert his attention somewhere else, somewhere other than the deep, dark, vast water around him. He'd taken duties other men detested, like cleaning out the bilges or the head, known to polite company as the seats of easement, rather than climb up and keep a look out in the crow's-nest. He'd endured the smells -- winding down both his sense of smell and taste -- even the tepid showers with buckets of sea water afterwards, all to avoid that lookout duty. Blair, he knew, put his reluctance down to fear of sinking into a black void while up there. As captain, The Wolf needed every man to pull his weight, but as James' lover, Blair feared for James, feared that he would lose his senses and topple to his death, so Blair sent him up only when necessary. They had to strike a delicate balance between their roles as lovers and seamen.

You're a coward, James thought savagely, a coward for not admitting the truth, and a coward for not conquering your fear.

He felt the change in the air a brief second before the lightning flash and closed his eyes, winding his sight down fast.

"James. James, are you still with me?"

Damn! When did Blair get so close? James opened his eyes and turned to face his captain. "Yes." His voice came out hoarse and dry and he cleared his throat. "Just a bit bright... the lightning... that's all." He smiled to reassure Blair and his lover squeezed James' shoulder. As usual when his captain was in physical contact, the sentinel found his senses settling to a comfortable level. Blair was like a soothing balm and James opened up a little, reaching out to just drink in the sight, smell, touch and sound of his lover, and then he noticed something he'd been subconsciously listening to since they'd left port a day ago.

He leaned over to speak in Blair's ear, to be heard above the storm-tossed sea, "We have a passenger. I can hear someone moving about in the hold. Too big to be a rat."

Blair frowned. "One of the crew?" He scanned the deck of the ship, trying to see where each man was despite the heavy rain.

"No," James replied. "Whoever it is must be hiding down there. Not one of ours, and they've been ill."

Blair stared at him for a moment, then started back down the steps. "Rafe! You and Brown, come with me." The Wolf grabbed a lantern and pulled back the cover from the hatchway. He took his dagger from the sash he wore at his waist. The three men disappeared down inside the ship, pulling the hatch back over them.

James took a deep breath and reached out, allowing his sight to ride on his hearing, something he and Blair had experimented with before, through the crossboards of the hatch.

The captain was quietly explaining to the two men what they were looking for. James heard Rafe lift a cudgel from its hook on the wall, while a long rasping sound meant that Brown had drawn a knife from its sheath at his belt. James heard the lantern being lit, then the door to the hold unlatched and opened. Blair stepped just inside and called out, "'Hoy in there! Show yourself!" A pause. "We know you're in here. Come out before I send my men in to drag you out!"

There were sounds of shuffling and then Blair's voice rang out in surprise. "Maya!"

James closed his eyes. No, not again! The wind seemed to drop and the rain just fell straight down, bouncing on the decks. James stopped listening and turned his focus back to the compass, and the ship.

A rain-drenched figure, blurred to James' stinging eyes, came up the steps. Joel paused in front of him. "Mister Ellison? Sir? The captain requests that you join him in his cabin."

James nodded and handed over control of the helm to his former first mate, now the Sea Wolf's gunner.

Down in the cabin, Rafe had brought a blanket to wrap around the shivering girl. Blair had toweled off his hair and was perched with one hip on the table. "So, Señorita Carasco, would you mind telling us what you were doing hiding in the bowels of my ship?"

"I heard my father say you were going to the island where my mother was born. I wish to see it... to see my uncle, Gustavo." She lowered her eyes. "And I thought if I spent more time with you, I could persuade you that I would make a good wife." She gazed at Blair with shy coyness. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Blair dropped down in front of her, took both of her cold hands in his, and sighed. "Maya, you don't have to be sorry. I'm flattered that you feel that way about me, but I already told you I..."

James chose this as an opportune moment to open the door, and he stepped in. "You sent for me, Captain?"

Blair stood slowly. "Yes, Mister Ellison. As you will have noted, we have an unexpected guest. Do you think Mister McKay could find room for her in his infirmary?"

"I don't want to put anyone out of their bed," Maya said quickly. "I could sleep here, in your hammock."

James' face couldn't hide what he thought of that idea. "I'm sure our good doctor can find room in the infirmary. He has his own cabin next door to it," he added for Maya's benefit. "There have been no serious injuries nor illness recently amongst the men. Señorita Carasco would be much more comfortable there."

Blair hid a smile at James' eagerness. "You would have a measure of privacy there, Maya, privacy my men would respect."

She nodded reluctantly.

"Good. Now, have you eaten? Can we get you anything?"

Maya shook her head. "No, with the storm..." she gestured with her hands. "I didn't feel so good. I just feel tired now."

"Then you should rest. Mister Ellison will show you to the cabin and see that you are comfortable. I would ask that you stay there, at least until the storm is well past." Indeed, while they had been talking it had grown considerably quieter outside.

James offered Maya his hand. "Señorita Carasco."

She draped the blanket around her body and stood, placing her small hand in James' larger one. For a moment the captain thought he saw a change in Maya's expression as she looked up at his first mate, but her face was controlled when she looked back to thank Blair.

By the time the storm had blown itself out, the sky was full of stars, and the crew exhausted. The Wolf kept just a skeleton crew on duty and sent the rest to their bunks. James, now in dry clothes and feeling more human, found his life mate on deck.

"You should turn in, get some rest," James whispered as he wrapped his arms around Blair and nuzzled.

Blair relaxed into the embrace. "Why? You're still up yourself, and that bunk is so lonely."

"Oh, I am up, all right." James pushed his groin up against Blair's buttocks to give weight to his point. "I thought I would keep you company. Unless you want to be alone up here?"

"Hell, no!" Blair squeezed the hands that were clasped around his waist, then slid his hands down to pull James' body against his own, pushing his arse against the solid hardness there behind him.

"This is neither the time nor the place, Captain," whispered his mate.

Blair sighed. "I know. Can I help it if the proximity of your body excites a passion in my own?"

"It's a passion I enjoy, Blair."

Blair shivered. "Later, my own." He disentangled himself. "When we have more time and energy to devote to this."

James let go reluctantly and stood off to one side. "Whatever my captain orders."

Blair immediately missed the warmth of his lover pressed up against him and cursed his own tongue. Later, he told his wayward body. Later, I will have him naked under me -- naked, willing and able. He smiled. A naked, able James, a thing of beauty. His cock throbbed hard, encased by the tight breeches he wore. Think of something else, Blair, before you do yourself an injury. Think of... what on all the seas we are going to do with Maya Carasco....

When their shift was finally over, both men returned to their cabin, cast off their shoes and breeches, and more or less tumbled into the bunk, falling asleep almost as soon as their heads hit the pillow.

James woke first. Blair was spooned up behind him, his back to the wall, arm draped over James' body. James lay in front, facing the cabin, protecting Blair with his own muscular form. Not that his captain would allow the first mate to do any protecting, but James needed to at least have the illusion that Blair was safe behind him.

He eyed the small locked chest that lay on the floor against the other side of the cabin. It contained the handful of gold doubloons and pieces of eight that were his and Blair's share from Hector Carasco's payment. The Wolf had agreed to deliver a package for the Spaniard to an English nobleman, Lord Crawford, despite knowing it could well be a trap. Blair had powerful enemies who would love to see him swing at the end of a rope.

He had demanded a very high price, which Carasco had beaten down. Still, the amount agreed was over and above what James considered the commission warranted. They had received half of the full amount; Crawford would give them the rest on delivery.

The chest also contained the maps and detailed drawings of their destination, plus the package itself. As soon as they were under way, Blair had broken the seal and examined the wrapped bundle. Inside were pages of names, names of men opposed to the powerful Admiral Garrett Kincaid, the man who had forced himself on Blair's mother, leaving her carrying his child, the son who he denied, and disregarded -- until Blair made his name as a pirate. Kincaid seemed to have taken it personally that the child he sired was both successful at something and that he succeeded by piracy, though James had it on good authority that Kincaid was not above using thieves and cutthroats in order to gain an advantage. His lordship had moved his own favorites into strong positions within the navy, and, James heard, had siphoned off monies meant for supplies in order to fund his own private army.

All in all, James would like to rid the world of Garrett Kincaid, and he was gratified to see his own brother, Stephen Ellison, listed amongst the names of Kincaid's opponents.

There were other names on the pages, names of men in high places in foreign governments, men who could be bought for a fair amount.

The parcel was a political powder keg, and certainly very valuable to the right people, but....

"Hello, beautiful."

James felt Blair's mouth plant a soft kiss between his shoulder blades. "Are you talking to me?" He smiled and turned slightly.

"Well, I don't see anyone else in this cabin, do you?" Blair's voice sounded amused.

"No, but 'beautiful'? Me?"

"Oh yes. Turn over and let me show you...."

James turned in his lover's arms and all thoughts of the chest and its contents flew out of the window.

Blair kissed him long and deep, then lowered his head to run his tongue over James' collarbone. "You taste so good."

"And what do I taste like, Blair?" James' voice sounded deep and husky.

"Tangy, a mixture of salt... sweat... that warm bed taste.... It's hard to define, but it all tastes like my James." Blair took another long lick that had James's skin breaking out into goose bumps, and then he laid back. "Take off that slop shirt, James. I want to explore."

James sat up and practically tore off his shirt causing Blair to laugh.

Once the shirt was gone, Blair pushed James back down and climbed on top of his mate and James shivered at the heat he saw in Blair's eyes. Blair bent to turn his attention to James' nipples, licking one, then sucking it, before grazing over it with his teeth.

"Blair...." James breathed.

Blair lifted his head. "Yes, James?"

"Just... Blair."

Blair grinned. James loved rendering him incoherent. As far as The Wolf was concerned, turn about was fair play. He shifted his attention to the other hardening nub. "Sometimes I try to compare them," he said between his savoring. "Does this one taste different to the other? Is it more salty, or sweeter?"

"And?" James' voice sounded raw.

"They're both perfect."

James laughed and then moaned as Blair worked his way lower, following a path down James' breastbone to his navel.

He sat up and gazed down at his mate. "I wish we had a mirror over the bed so you could see yourself now. Your skin, flushed with blood and glowing with sweat, your eyes half closed and so dark... and to know that it's the desire for me that brought you to this."

James looked up at Blair. His lover was breathing heavy, his own face flushed and his eyes dilated -- the blue almost hidden by black. His hair, like that on his chest, was matted with sweat. Tiny droplets glistened and shone. He was making slight rocking movements, back and forth, obviously enjoying the way James' cock was rubbing against his arse, and Blair's cock rising out of that nest of curly hair, bobbing, oozing precum, rubbing against James' skin. Blair looked primal and wild.

James' hands held Blair's hips. "Blair...." His voice was full of love and desire. "'Beautiful' doesn't even begin to describe you. You are... amazing." And he pulled his mate down, swallowing the gasp that started from Blair's mouth and hearing it change into a deep moan.

Blair's hands went to James' hair, stroking it, clutching at the short length, all the while grinding his cock against his lover's as they kissed. James could feel the rough stitching on Blair's shirt rubbing against his skin, exciting him even more. They weren't going to last long at this rate.

Blair squirmed a little, breaking away to breathe before returning again to ravage James' mouth. He slid one hand between their bodies to take hold of both of their cocks, feeling the sweat and precum help lubricate his action. James released one hand from its nest in Blair's hair and placed it over his lover's, moving their hands in a steady rhythm. Blair groaned as James squeezed and twisted their hands slightly, and he bent his head to nip at the nipple that was nearest his mouth. James arched and held Blair's head in place with his free hand.

It was quick; it was frenzied. James came with a sudden stillness that left him boneless, but Blair was still shifting against him, trying to find the right friction to push him over the edge. James moved his free hand from the back of Blair's head and pushed a dry finger into Blair's hole. Blair almost came off the bunk and his cum erupted from his cock. He relaxed, totally, on top of James.

For a moment they lay still, then James felt Blair begin to laugh against his chest. "What's so funny?"

"Here am I, master of this ship... we wouldn't get disturbed unless there was an emergency, and we rushed...." Blair's hands gestured over their bodies.

"Sometimes fast and furious is good, my captain. Unless...." James angled his head so he could see more of Blair's face. "Unless you didn't like that?"

Blair turned to look James in the eye. "I think we are sticky enough to prove that we both enjoyed that."

"Well then, 'tis enough." He eased Blair's head back onto his chest and patted it. He began to squirm around, trying to get more comfortable. "One day, I'd like to lie with you in a large feathered bed, with room to avoid any wet patches."

"A bed fit for a king, with silk sheets and enough room to stretch out," Blair agreed as he shifted to give James more space.

James wriggled around a little more. "I'd settle for a queen-sized one, but no silk sheets. In the tropics they would be a mixed blessing." He relaxed again, pulling his willing lover back on top his body.

"Ah, but just think of that smooth silk against your skin, James. You love the feel of velvet, and fur, and silk; imagine a whole sheet to slide about on."

"I have silk here to slide about on." James stroked Blair's arse. "Smooth as silk."

Blair laughed. "You are a seriously strange man, but you are mine, all mine." He kissed James' mouth softly and sweetly and James decided not to feel offended by the remark.

The storm had taken with it the oppressive heat that had smothered the ship. The wind that now filled the sails was fresher and sweeter, and it blew away any lethargy that had crept over the crew. The ship moved at a fair rate of knots through the deep water, white caps of foam racing alongside with the porpoises. The sky was the palest powder blue, with not even a dusting of white cloud, and for a few days, the ship returned to its normal routine. Yet James still had a sense of foreboding, of dread that spread even to his marrow.

He assigned himself the task of guarding Maya to prevent any ill coming to her. Though he'd never admit it, he also wanted to keep her away from Blair.

What James failed to notice was how jealous it left Blair feeling to see his man dogging Maya. Blair could see the looks the young woman was giving James, and he didn't like it. Oh, he trusted James, really he trusted him, but Maya, she was another basket of fish. It seemed to The Wolf that she was after his mate. She would smile and giggle at things James said. She touched his arm, fluttered her eyelashes. It was all Blair could do not to drag James down to their cabin and make his lover remember just to whom he belonged. It made for nights of passionate, possessive, but ultimately exhausting, claiming.

James, though, was uncomfortable -- to say the least. Maya seemed to have lost any romantic notion about Blair, which was a good thing. However, she now seemed to have focused her attentions on James himself. He'd tried to convince her that he wasn't interested, tried to be both polite and aloof, but the more he tried to dissuade her, the more the senorita seemed to chase him. That, he didn't really understand. And, to crown it all, Blair kept giving him dark, fiery looks that made James desperate to get his lover down into the cabin.

"When will we be in sight of land?" Maya asked, breaking into his thoughts.

"Within a few hours, but by then it will be too dark to navigate into shore, so we will wait until morning. We have a small package to deliver for your father, and we must see that it's safely in the right hands. Then we will hunt down this uncle of yours and decide what to tell your father. Until then, you must stay on board the ship."

Maya hung her head. "I have made things difficult for you and the captain."

James was torn between being polite and telling the truth. "Yes... No." He settled for, "It's complicated. We'll work things out."

A call from his captain interrupted whatever Maya had to say next. "Mister Ellison, would you return the senorita to her quarters? We need to draw up some plans."

Blair spread his map of the island over the table. Most of the senior members of the crew were gathered around. "Here we have the town. This is the fort, and this the shore battery. The island is owned by the Spanish. Until recently, when some nefarious pirates made things unpleasant for the ships that visited the place --" his men laughed -- "the island had a busy port. Now, with trade moved away, the fort is more or less redundant. We can expect a small garrison to be kept there, but I don't anticipate any trouble from them. However, I want to be moored as far away from their cannons as possible. This should be the first and easiest part of the plan. We meet up here --" His fingers tapped on the map -- "with his lordship. The English and the Spanish have recently brokered an uneasy alliance, and there's always the chance that they may harass us instead. So, just in case they don't want us to leave as easily as we arrive..." his remark drew some wry smiles, "...we need at least one contingency plan...."

The meeting broke up with Simon going to put the plan to the vote. Pirate ships were run as a democracy -- each man could vote on a course of action. The captain could lose his position by the majority voting against him. Blair stood by the doorway... watching. Finally he turned back to James. "How would you feel about putting on a little... performance, James?" Blair took from the hidden space beneath their bunk a long, carved box, that he had 'liberated' from a merchantman. Inside were two beautifully made dueling swords.

James pulled one out and tried its balance with a few sweeps in the air. He nodded appreciatively. "A show of skill and power, Captain?"

"Yes, just to remind the men who they put in charge of the ship."

"Why not?" James smiled. "It's been a while since you and I crossed swords."

Blair laughed. "Have you already forgotten last night? My sword crossed yours quite a bit."

"'Til mine sheathed itself within your body, my captain." James' voice seemed to drop an octave and took on a velvety tone.

Blair shivered. "You..." He cleared his throat. "You are just trying to distract me, before we even begin."

James laughed. "And has it worked?"

Blair shook his head. "I'll show you, Mister. On deck with you!" And he whacked the sword, lightly, against James' backside as the first mate walked in front of him.

Once the men realized what the captain and first officer were planning on doing, they quickly cleared a space. The two men made practice swings, and then took up fighting stances facing each other. James heard bets being taken and his face broke out into a grin as he realized how high he rated in their wagers. Still, it wouldn't do to be overconfident, not fighting The Wolf. He could sense Blair's excitement from across the deck and knew his own matched it. This spar was almost a form of foreplay and it would certainly have an enjoyable outcome, if James had any say in the matter.

Blair saw the smile and echoed it with one of his own. This will be fun.

They began to circle each other. Cutlasses were too clumsy for this type of swordplay; they lacked the finesse of dueling swords, and James was a great one for a touch of finesse.

James lunged and Blair dodged; Blair, in turn, lunged and James parried, both men still circling. Suddenly James moved in and the action became too fast for the audience to note each move, each sharp ring, each bright sweep of light as it caught the edge of a sword. Then Blair gasped, and pulled away. James stood still, but was breathing heavily as his captain examined the small tear the first mate had made in his sleeve. It was a mark of James' skill that he'd drawn no blood, only cut the cloth.

Blair smiled grimly, and then launched his own attack. Before James knew it, he was on the defensive, unable to make ground against his lover's skill... but then Blair stumbled and James went to catch him... and found himself flat on his back as Blair kicked his legs from under him.

"That was a dirty trick," James grumbled quietly.

Blair stood, panting, and turned to his men. "If your opponent is bigger than you, remember, gentlemen, you can still bring him down. And the bigger they are..." He bent to offer James a hand up, but found his own trick played against him as his legs were kicked out from under him. James now lay on top, a knife at Blair's throat.

"...the harder they are, Captain?" whispered James, blatantly rubbing himself against Blair, before moving off Blair's body and allowing him to gain his own feet.

The men were laughing and cheering. Simon patted James on the back.

Blair grinned ruefully and took a moment to get his wayward libido under control. He felt a little flustered and more than a little hard. "I guess the lesson there is never to underestimate your opponent," he said as he stood. "So, Simon, how about we have the men line up for a little mock fighting. See what they may have picked up?" He turned to say something to James, but the words died in his mouth as he saw Maya with her hand on James' arm and adoration in her eyes for his first mate.

Dinner was particularly uncomfortable for both men. Maya appeared to flirt with each of them in turn and it was a relief when she excused herself -- until she asked James to escort her back to the infirmary.

On his return, Blair grabbed him by his shirtfront and pushed James hard back against the door, kissing his mate with a passion that left both of them breathless.

"Sorry," whispered Blair when he broke away. "I really needed to do that."

"No apology necessary, Captain. But can it -- can you -- wait until I have done a check of the ship?"

Blair smiled. "Oh, I think I can hold off, Mister Ellison. Can you?" And he not-so-gently stroked James' covered erection before stepping away and putting on his sword belt. Evidently the captain meant to join his first mate on deck.

"You are a cock tease," James hissed as he moved away from the door.

Blair smirked. "Takes one to know one, Mister Ellison."

"Just what are we going to do with Señorita Carasco?" Blair asked as they took a turn around the deck.

"Throw her overboard?" James was joking, mostly, and Blair gave him a mock glare.

He stared out over the stern of the ship. "I'm surprised we haven't seen a ship with her angry father on board yet."

James followed the line of his captain's eyesight. "Apparently the senorita is supposed to be staying with a female acquaintance on the far side of the island from her father's house. As her friend is female, her bodyguard returned home. Maya wouldn't have been missed for at least a day, and then with the storm...."

"Hmmm, we don't know what damage could have been done to any ships left in the harbor."

"Exactly."

"And so far, no one's noticed any sails...."

"I'll go up there tomorrow," James said.

Blair turned to him. "Good. I was hoping you would offer."

James' eyebrow climbed. "You weren't going to order me?"

"The idea hadn't even begun to cross my mind," Blair lied.

James scoffed and gave Blair's tied-back hair a playful tug.

"Hey!" Blair carefully pulled his hair from James' hand. "Stay your hand, Mister, or I'll give you a broadside with my big gun that'll make you scream like the damned."

James laughed. "Your threats need some work, Captain."

Blair trailed a hand down James' back and squeezed one arse cheek. "It's more of a promise than a threat, my able seaman."

James shifted a little, without losing contact with Blair's hand. "In that case..." he began.

"...shall we adjourn to the cabin?" Blair finished, with a cocky grin.

"Aye, aye, Captain."

Trying not to appear to rush, the two men walked, rather stiffly, to their own private harbor.

With the door of their cabin closed, Blair pulled James to him for a kiss. A gentle press of the lips at first, then he flicked his tongue against James' mouth, making the bottom lip wet, before sucking it, gently. He pulled away a little and then leaned back in for a deeper kiss that James returned whole-heartedly.

"Dear God, why do I love kissing you so much?" Blair's face was flushed, his lips red and swollen, and he was breathing hard.

James smiled and untied the ribbon from Blair's hair. Blair shook it loose, allowing his lover to run his fingers through it. "The feeling is mutual, Captain mine."

For a moment Blair stood silent, studying his mate. Then The Wolf closed his eyes and ran the tips of his fingers over his mate's face.

"What are you doing?" James asked softly.

"Hush. I'm... mapping you. Hmmmm," Blair murmured appreciatively. "You shaved this evening."

"Just before dinner."

"I do like that you have such good manners, James. Or did you just think it would get you bedded that bit quicker?" Blair's fingers had reached James' lips and were tracing them, his eyes still closed and an expression of bliss on his face.

James took both hands into his own and kissed them, his eyes never leaving Blair's face. "You are one of the few clean-shaven pirates I've meet, Captain." James could hear his lover's heart racing, feel the heat between them. He released Blair's hands and stroked his fingers over Blair's chin.

Blair opened his eyes and leaned into the touch, smiling. "I did grow a beard once. I woke up one morning and found that a pair of spiders had made their nest in it. I've been clean-shaven ever since."

James' eyes narrowed as he studied his lover to see if he was serious. Blair's eyes twinkled and James burst out laughing. "You are so full of horse dung, Blair."

Blair grinned, taking delight in his ability to make James laugh. "I'd rather be full of you," he said, soft and low. He watched as James' eyes darkened with desire. He placed his hand over James' growing erection and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Or would you prefer to be filled by me, James? Your choice." He felt the cock under his hand throb and he grinned -- he knew only too well what excited his lover.

"I think I prefer it slow tonight, Blair. I don't mind who takes whom," James whispered, before pulling his mate close and kissing him again. Blair's hands went to James' neck, pulling him close, trying to devour his lover.

Using a variety of kisses, Blair began to work his way down James' body. A bite here, a lick there, sucking just here, grazing his teeth over that area, as he unbuttoned James' shirt. Each new area of skin exposed was subjected to an oral inspection. Blair was slowly driving James insane.

Finally Blair knelt in front of his lover, James' breeches unfastened and his cock standing firm with a pearl of precum sitting at the top. Blair sat back to examine it. "Such a beautiful member. I could write sonnets to it... the length, the girth, the color..."

James was watching Blair on his knees. He laughed huskily. "I would prefer, Blair, that you didn't."

Blair grinned. "No, perhaps not. Not when I have better things to do with my hands and mouth." And his mouth engulfed James' cock.

James closed his eyes and bit down on his tongue in an effort to not thrust deep and hard into that wet warmth. His hands fastened on Blair's shoulders, though whether to pull him closer, hold him away or just to help James' balance, he couldn't say.

Blair's right hand reached up to hold James' balls, caressing them, giving them a light squeeze. He pulled away and sucked just the cock head, flicking his tongue over the slit. Then he shifted around, licking, sucking the side of James' cock, and James' hand moved to caress the back of Blair's neck.

James shuddered. "Yes. Like that. 'So good. Mmmm. God, you're good at this."

Blair let the cock slip from his mouth long enough to say, "You inspire me, James."

"Yes?" James took hold of Blair's shoulders and pulled him up. "Then how about we inspire each other?" His hands went into Blair's hair and he lowered his head to kiss his lover. Blair automatically pulled James closer, deepening the kiss, their tongues dueling, neither man surrendering.

Finally breaking away, Blair grabbed hold of a pillow and a blanket from the bunk and threw them on the floor. "The bunk's too small for what I want," he said, before pushing James back.

James pulled his lover back into his arms to kiss him once more and they tumbled, clumsily, to the floor.

Blair pulled away, and, with increasing urgency, unfastened his breeches. James waited, taking short, uneven breaths. Finally, Blair's bare cock was exposed and he went on all fours over James' body, his cock hovering over his mate's face. James drew Blair's cock between his lips, sucking slowly. Blair whimpered helplessly and then bent his head to take James in again. James shuddered, his cock swelling, but he'd be damned if he'd come first! His hands went around Blair's arse, and he tugged, relaxing his throat and swallowing around Blair's cock.

Blair cried out and James quickly pushed him away just enough so that as Blair came, James could taste the bitter liquid in his mouth. His hand stroked Blair's stomach as his lover's body shook in the aftershocks.

Blair lay full out on top of James, breathing heavily... then James felt Blair's mouth again and he readied himself for the same heady experience, but Blair began to hum, sending incredible vibrations through his lover's body. Then he felt those strong hands gently squeeze and caress his sac... and James came explosively, Blair swallowing every drop.

The Wolf turned to share tastes with his mate, but it was a long moment before James could fully appreciate what Blair offered. Then the rest of his body began to notice just how hard the floor was.

"That feather mattress is beginning to sound even more attractive," he said, smiling as he caressed Blair's hair.

Blair looked puzzled for a second, then returned James' smile. "I'll get the men to start saving feathers every time we have chicken for dinner." He patted James' chest, "but for now, what say we climb onto the bunk?"

"I seem to remember you offering to fill me up."

"I just did!" Blair's reply was indignant.

James pouted and Blair laughed. "All right," he relented, "after we've rested, you can mount my big gun. Will that satisfy you?"

James grinned, "Doable, Captain, doable," and he leaned in for another kiss.

The next day, Blair insisted that James wait until they were both able to stay on deck before the first mate climbed the rigging to the look out. James concentrated on the feel of the rigging beneath his fingers and his feet, not on the water that surrounded the ship, but once he got to the top, he knew he would have nothing else to focus on for some time. If he couldn't conquer his irrational fear, then he would just have to face it.

Once he reached the crow's-nest, he stood and looked around. From down below he heard Blair begin to sing a sea-shanty, loudly, badly, adding his own words, which would have made Maya blush if she'd been on deck at the time, and making the men laugh, then encouraging them to join in with the chorus. James smiled. Trust his lover to find something like that to enable James to concentrate without losing himself. Using Blair's voice as an anchor, James cast out his sight to the far horizon. No sail, no pennant or flag as far as he could see.

Why hasn't Señor Carasco come after them? It just doesn't make sense.

The two eight-man canoes were light and maneuverable enough to be paddled over the shingle and through the shallow water into the bay. The rendezvous was about two miles in, on a stretch of open land. However, to get there, The Wolf's men would have to walk through a narrow gorge, a good place, if ever James had seen one, for an ambush. So the men were armed to the teeth. Each man wore at least two fully-charged pistols, plus extra shot and powder, plus their own choice of blade, be it cutlass, axe or knife.

"It's good to be prepared," Joel noted as he and James tucked a spare knife into their boots before they left the ship.

"Actually, that's an interesting subject," Blair added. "This band of fearsome warrior women, known as the Amazons, had specially designed knives that they tucked into various... hidden areas beneath their skimpy clothes."

"Really?" Rafe suddenly became very interested.

Blair smiled as he warmed to his subject. "They had this one dagger that they hid..."

James led the men down to the boats, all of them paying attention to their captain's continuing story while they climbed down off the ship. In his own way, Blair was getting the men ready in case they needed to fight. Too fired up and accidents could happen. Better for them to be relaxed but still focused. A tale of beautiful, exciting, warrior-women... it held no interest for James, not when he had his own beautiful, exciting man, but it was a good tale and it helped ease some of the tension until they hit the shore, beached the canoes and started the hike inland.

The ambush was as sudden as it was expected. Dangerously outnumbered and outgunned, Blair ordered his men to retreat. It still meant that they had to fight their way back, but they fought with a desperation, their attackers didn't share. Firing their pistols at the Spanish soldiers, they fled back to the shore.

James looked around, briefly, to check that all the men were with him. Then his heart stopped. Somehow Blair had been separated from his men and James watched in horror as his captain was surrounded. He started back.

"NO!" Blair shouted. "GO!" he ordered, and began to disarm himself, laying his weapons on the ground at his feet, a deliberate act of surrender.

His men grabbed James' arms and he was pulled back into the canoe, instinctively fighting to get free until he heard Simon whisper, "They had the chance to kill him and they haven't. That leaves us with a chance to rescue him." And James finally heard the wisdom in that, even though every part of him ached to reach his mate.

James' last sight of the man was of Blair's hands being bound and Blair's eyes locked with his, even though the sentinel knew his lover would soon lose sight of him as they paddled away. He watched until Blair was marched away from the beach.

They'd planned for this contingency, discussed and argued about it, but watching James being pulled back into the boat -- even though Blair himself had told Simon to do just that -- was the hardest thing Blair had ever had to do. He'd kept his eyes on James until the man was just a small black dot, trying to convey his love, his resolve, his faith in the future. It wasn't easy. Blair wanted to see this through. Wanted to know who was behind the trap, though he and James had a good idea. Carasco was working for someone with plenty of money to share around -- someone who wanted Blair Sandburg badly enough to go to all this trouble. The same someone who had sent James Ellison to capture The Wolf, perhaps?

Blair was half marched, half dragged up the path towards the fort. He seemed defeated, all the fight gone out of him, and the soldiers began to relax a little. He heard a cannon fire at his ship and flinched. Surreptitiously, he pulled out the concealed stiletto knife that he'd had up his sleeve and began to work on his bindings. It wouldn't do to make his capture look too undemanding. He should at least make an attempt at escape.

The path was still climbing and moving ever closer to the edge of the cliff. Blair saw his chance as the bindings gave and he broke away, heading for the cliff. One of the Spaniards ran after him with his sword, Blair dodged in time and the sword came down on his right, just missing him. He feigned a move to the left, but it was anticipated and blocked. He jabbed with his stiletto and... his foot slipped. He began to fall, only realizing at the last moment that below him lay jagged rocks. To avoid them, he would have had to dive out... and now it was too late. He frantically reached out for a handhold... and someone reached down and grabbed hold of his wrist, and he was pulled up by one strong hand into the arms of a well-dressed stranger.

The man grinned and Blair felt a chill go up his spine. It was a cold, calculating grin that reminded Blair of tales of jackals in Egypt.

The stranger handed him over to the soldiers. "Tie him up and take him to the fort. And this time, make sure Captain Sandburg here doesn't escape."

"Si, Kincaid."

The Englishman grabbed hold of the soldier's coat. "That's Lord Kincaid to you," he said in a barely-controlled voice.

The man shivered and swallowed. "Si, Señor Kincaid," he amended.

Blair watched this man, his father, walk away, in shock. Despite himself, he tried to absorb as much information about this person as he could. How he looked -- how he smelt --how he sounded -- the way he walked. How much of this man would Blair be able to see when he next looked in the mirror? Were there any similarities between them? This... Garrett Kincaid was the other half of the equation that formed Blair Sandburg, and the son wanted to know everything about the man who did no more than beget him onto Naomi.

The Englishman was assisted into the saddle of a tall, black horse and he rode off towards the fort on the hill, never once looking back.

"Mi casa es su casa," the captain of the guard said, indicating the dungeon around Blair.

It had been carved out of the rock the fort was built upon. In the center stood a rack, obviously well used at one time, judging by the marks of wear and the stains that covered its surface. To one side of it sat a table with various whips, iron instruments and thumbscrews on it. A brazier stood near, with hot coals glowing inside. Around the walls of the chamber were fixed heavy rings and chains.

"Though I do not think you will enjoy my hospitality for long, my pretty friend." The captain grinned and ran one dirty fingernail across Blair's throat. Blair pulled away as much as he could, and the Spaniard laughed. "Oh no, it is not your body I am interested in, well, not at the moment... it is the gold and jewels I am told you have. The 'treasure worth a king's ransom' I believe you have hidden. That is what I and my men want from you. But perhaps later we can have some fun, si? After 'Lord Kincaid' finishes with you. There are few women on the island, and I've heard that you pirates are free with your affections." He laughed out loud and his men joined in.

Blair almost groaned out loud. 'Treasure worth a king's ransom'... those were, more or less, the words he'd used when speaking to Hector Carasco. Somehow the slave trader had passed them on to Kincaid, perhaps hidden inside the package. A secret coded message that both Blair and James had missed when they examined it. Kincaid must have passed on those words to persuade the garrison to help him. The Wolf had no treasure, save a few old books and his most precious treasure trove, James. The words had been nothing more than a jest, a boast, a way of forcing up the prize money. Only he'd not explained that little fact to Carasco, and now here Blair was 'bilged by his own anchor'.

James climbed up on board the deck of the Sea Wolf. Once he was sure that all the men in the canoe had joined him, he addressed the crew. "They've taken the captain," he said in a voice that carried around the ship. "They'll expect a rescue. And I'm going to give it to them, only not quite as they expect. Are you with me?"

There was a rousing 'Aye' from the decks, and James breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Simon, I want you, Joel, Rafe, oh, and Brown, down in the captain's cabin. We have some plans to form. And someone fetch Miss Carasco and Delgado. They could be useful."

Delgado, the cook, walked into the captain's cabin to find it crowded. His senior shipmates were gathered around a table with a map spread out over it. Sitting in the corner, looking scared but very alert, was their guest, Maya Carasco.

"How's your Spanish?" the first mate asked Delgado.

The young cook smiled, "Donde esta el poto de piss? Cuanto por in puta?" (Where is the piss-pot? How much for the whore?)

James grinned. He understood enough of the language to have a fair idea of what Delgado had said. "Good. This should work." Turning, he asked the wide-eyed young woman, "Will you help us, Señorita?"

She stood, slowly. "Captain Sandburg has been good to me. He is... a kind man." She straightened as she arrived at a decision. "I will help you in whatever way I can."

James nodded. "Thank you. I appreciate that." He turned back to the table. "Right. This is what we will do...."

Blair had only a short time to wait before Kincaid sent for him. As he was dragged up the stone stairs, he stumbled and slipped, cutting his lip open. The soldiers didn't stop, just pulled him up and along.

Kincaid was waiting in a large, airy hall, the parcel Blair had brought open and its contents spread over a long table amongst the remains of a meal. "Thank you for bringing these to me - they will be very useful," he said, indicating the pages.

Blair lifted his hands with some effort because of the heavy chain that had been locked onto his wrists, and wiped the blood from his lip with one of his thumbs.

"So these Spaniards have already had some fun with you, boy? Well, once I'm gone from here, they can do whatever they want." Kincaid paused. "What, you have nothing to say to your father? By God, I would teach you some manners, if I had the time."

"Lord Crawford - was he even going to meet me here?"

Kincaid laughed. "I'd have thought a bright young man like you would have worked that out." He strolled down the length of the table to pick up a knife that he toyed with as he sat back down. "The silly old buzzard was on his way back to England with important information, information that could damage my ambitions, when, by some fortuitous fate, shall we say, his ship was attacked by pirates. It went down with almost all hands, though the young slave girl who was with him fetched a handsome price on the open market, I'm told. And as for all the information, well, sadly, that went down with his lordship."

"What do you want from me?" Blair asked, though he knew the answer.

"Just that you die, nothing else, boy." Kincaid stood and walked round to Blair. He grabbed the pirate by his shirtfront and pulled Blair right up to him. "I warned you to keep quiet, to disappear. But no, you had to go and make a name for yourself, didn't you? Well, I'm a man who keeps his promises; now your name will die along with you, and with it any connection to my family or me. Do... you... hear... me?"

Blair just looked back at him with barely-hidden disgust.

Kincaid pushed him backwards. "Get him out of my sight," he ordered the waiting guard. "Make sure he doesn't leave this island alive."

"Si, senor."

James had moved the ship, taking it beyond the range of the fort and the shore battery -- which had fired a warning shot towards the bow of the vessel -- making it appear that the pirates had run, leaving their captain to his fate. Not that that would deceive anyone who had heard of the legendary loyalty Blair invoked in his men. Whoever had planned his capture would doubtless be prepared for a rescue.

He put Maya and Delgado ashore on an unoccupied area of the island, with some flagons of drugged wine. They were to convince the soldiers at the shore battery that the wine was a gift from the captain of the guards to celebrate the capture of a notorious pirate.

For James, the hours between leaving them and putting the rest of the plan into action had been the longest time. He paced the ship; his eyes hardly ever leaving the shoreline. He was determined not to lose himself in the sensory darkness of a void, but his mind was working on what Blair could be experiencing and filling his imagination with vivid, nightmarish scenes.

They dragged Blair back down into the dungeon and up against the wall. Fear overtook him and he began to struggle, but a swift backhand from a Goliath of a man sent him sprawling on the floor, opening the cut on his lip and making his head spin. When his brain became less rattled, he found that he was chained up, his feet bare, his legs spread wide, his arms chained high above his body. His small silver cross and chain had been ripped from his neck, his earrings removed with a little more care because one of the guards had taken a fancy to them and wanted them more or less intact.

One man approached him with a knife, and, with due precision, began to slice and cut through Blair's clothes, gradually exposing his skin to his tormentors, drawing tiny trickles of blood and leaving the Sea Wolf's captain naked and vulnerable. Then the 'interrogation' began....

A small landing party from the Sea Wolf beached the canoes at 3am on the sandbank and silently made their way to the shore. The gun battery facing the sea had just five men guarding it, and they were asleep, thanks to the drugged wine Maya and Delgado had slipped them. She let James and his men into the building, and Joel made fast work of disabling the guns.

The young woman had been manhandled a little, but nothing she couldn't cope with, she told James, and she and Delgado had moved down to the tiny kitchen, out of the way of the soldiers, until the drug had taken effect. She informed James of the Spanish guards' gossip, about the English pig who tried to 'lord' it over them, a man by the name of Kincaid. Then Maya was sent back to the canoes and relative safety, her task done.

Leaving the battery and heading up the hill, James tried not to think what Blair might be going through, tried instead to think what he would do to Kincaid if he laid one hand on Blair.

The men all had their weapons concealed and wrapped so that no noise, or reflected light from the setting moon, gave them away. For the most part, they were able to keep to the undergrowth, but as they got nearer to the fort, the ground cover became scarcer and they moved close to the ground on their bellies, ignoring the sharp stones that littered the area. James signaled them to stop and he and Simon crawled on alone.

"Are there any guards on the wall?" Simon's voice was so low, James could only just pick it up.

"Just one. Wait for a minute." James listened until he knew that the guard had walked past the spot where they hid. He threw the grappling iron up and heard it connect with the other side of the wall. They both flattened against the wall for a moment, in case the guard had heard it too. No, he'd carried on walking. James grabbed hold of the rope and began to climb. Once at the top, he spied the guard about to turn and he threw his knife. It shone briefly, and then buried itself in the man's neck. He went down with barely a gasp. Quickly, James swung himself over the battlements and then turned to help Simon climb over. They ran down the stairs beside the wall to the large barred gate.

"Thank God for complacent guards!" Simon had a big, relieved grin on his face.

"Amen to that." James smiled back.

Just then another guard came out of the latrine, on the wall adjacent to the gate, fastening up his breeches. He looked up just as Simon threw his knife... and missed. The Spaniard ran for the bell hanging by the kitchen and pulled, yelling and screaming, as James' second knife hit him in the chest.

"Damn! James, here, help me." The two men lifted away the heavy board that barred the gate and opened the large wooden doors to allow the men to flood in as the sound of the bell echoed around and the guards came running out of the buildings surrounding the courtyard.

James grabbed Delgado out of the way of the fighting and pulled him along into the main building. "We need to know just where they're holding the captain. For that we need to capture someone alive, and I need you to translate."

A likely specimen came rushing around the corner as James spoke, a young guard fastening his sword belt and mumbling to himself as he rushed to join the fight, but he never had time to even draw his sword as James pounced upon him and held his pistol to the man's throat. "Delgado, ask him if he knows where the pirate captive is being held. Tell him... tell him that if he speaks the truth, I'll spare his life."

The guard's heart was racing, but he still answered with defiance, that it would make no difference if he died here or outside taking a few pirate scum to hell with him.

James admired his courage but said, "Then I will kill you now, and find someone else. Outside you may have more of a chance to fight and live. Here and now, however, you will die." He cocked his pistol against the man's temple and the guard cried out "NO! I will show you." James released his hold a little, and drew back his gun. The Spaniard pointed to a door in the wall.

"There," Delgado translated. "He is down in the dungeon being questioned."

James pushed the guard out of the door and shut it quickly.

"You let him go!" Delgado stared at the first mate.

"I kept my word. Now let's see if he did the same."

It was late, that much Blair knew. His face was swollen and his body ached. He didn't think that there was much damage to his innards, but that was due more to luck than anything else. He'd thought of creating a nice little story for his captors, but he just couldn't concentrate long enough to fabricate something convincing.

The guards had stopped torturing him when food and drink arrived, and were now lightly snoozing before the next round. Their captain awoke and stretched. He scratched his belly and wiped his sleeve over his mouth. He looked at Blair, pushed back away from the table and walked over to examine the prisoner.

He kicked the legs of the man sitting nearest Blair and gave an order in Spanish. Blair's feet were released and his body turned to face the wall. He grunted at the pull on his arms, then he felt the Spaniard squeeze his buttocks. Blair stilled. He felt a shiver of fear travel through his body.

The Spaniard chose to interpret his stillness as an invitation, a surrender. "You have a nice arse, pretty one. A nice tight hole, too? Si?" One finger invaded his back passage and Blair groaned, his head falling forward to rest against the cold, clammy wall.

"You like? Well, there's more."

Blair heard the Spaniard spit on his hand, and he tensed up, but instead of the cock he expected, he felt two fingers push in. Well, at least he's good enough to try and use a little lubricant, Blair thought. I must relax somehow. It'll hurt more if I can't. I just hope he's just got a smaller cock than James, and no clap, otherwise when James ... if James even wants me after...

Blair began to laugh. It emerged as a gurgling sound and his rapist halted his actions.

What am I talking about? Blair, my friend, you are drifting into madness. If James doesn't get here soon, there'll be no 'after'.... He realized the Spaniard had stopped and Blair grew, for some strange reason, angry. Why's he stopped? What doesn't he just DO IT?

"For pity's sake, man! Get on with it!" And he used the last of his strength to push back onto the invading fingers. The captain of the guards grunted, withdrew his digits and Blair heard fumbling behind him.

Please let it be small. Please let it be small. Please let... He dimly heard some shouting, but the chanting in his head overwhelmed everything else. There were noises, faint compared to the sound of his blood rushing through his veins; benches being overturned, metal against metal, feet shuffling, and then silence.

He finally risked turning his head as much as he dared and saw the one sight he longed to see. "James."

The word was faint, but it broke the void into which James felt himself heading due to the overwhelming smell of blood, sweat, fear and, yes, arousal, and he realized Blair was chained up against the wall. Quickly, he sheathed his sword and stepped over the dead bodies of the two Spaniards who hadn't managed to escape his bloody vengeance.

Blair hung his head against the wall... he wanted to weep with relief... he wanted to scream... but mainly he just wanted to get the hell out of there.

James shot the lock on the chains with the pistol from his belt, and reached to catch his captain as his body sagged. Blair gave out a cry as blood suddenly began to flow though his arms again, now that the chains were no longer there to bear his weight.

"Good Lord, Blair, what did they do to you?" James whispered as he began to run his hands lightly over his lover's form, trying to chronicle the multiple wounds and bruises that he found.

"Shhh," Blair's voice caught, "I'll be fine." He tried to smile, but his face was too swollen. "I was beginning to think you were leaving it a bit late there, my friend."

James looked sickened.

"No. Not your fault. Letting this play out was my own idea." Blair lifted his hand as best he could to stroke James' arm. "Let's get out of here."

James wrapped a coat he'd found around Blair and half-carried, half-dragged the wounded man from the dungeon, all the while looking around for the guards, but the crew of the Sea Wolf was doing a fine job of keeping them busy. Delgado helped James get Blair through the doorway and up the stairs. The first mate thought for a moment that they would get safely away, but at the top of the stairs they found the way blocked. Someone had set fire to the tapestries on the wall -- the heat forced them back, and they had to find another way out.

"This way!" shouted the ship's cook, and he ran up some stairs hidden in an alcove in the corner of the wall.

James looked at his lover. "Blair, do you think you can manage..."

"Doesn't look like I have any choice, does it?" Blair said, grimly.

They arrived at the top of the stairs in time to see Kincaid run his sword through the torso of the Sea Wolf's cook, pulling it back and out with a satisfied grunt. Delgado cried out, his sword falling from his fingers, and he looked down in disbelief at the blood that was fast soaking through his clothes. His hands clutched at his middle, and he collapsed onto the floor. James alone heard his final words calling for his mother.

Blair pushed James away and tried to take a few tentative steps forward, but he was still too weak. He was forced to lean against the wall, breathing heavily, inwardly cursing his own feebleness. James took out his own sword and stepped forward to face their nemesis.

"Ah, the redoubtable Commander James Ellison. Who'd have guessed that that popinjay Ellison's eldest son would be a sodomite! Do you enjoy being a pirate's whore? Did he have to coax you or did you just roll over, pull your legs up and beg?" Kincaid gloated. "Carasco passed on some really interesting pieces of information about you and that bastard son of mine."

James scowled but then heard Blair's whispered, "He's just trying to goad you. Don't let him make you angry, James. Keep your head in the game."

"Is that the best you can come up with, Kincaid? Sodomite? Whore? Believe me, I've heard worse." James took up a fighting stance, and not a second too soon as Kincaid launched an attack.

The man was skilled -- he fought with shrewdness and speed, but he was no match for James. The blades flashed and sang, echoing around the walls. Kincaid tried to force James back but James refused to give an inch. They came face-to-face, so close they could breathe the same air. James forced him away and lunged, his breath coming faster, his arm growing heavy, hearing, knowing that Kincaid was struggling too. Finally, James caught Kincaid's blade on his own, twisted his wrist and the other man's sword flew out of his hand, landing with a ringing clang on the floor. Kincaid searched frantically for something he could use as a weapon. On the table lay the condiments for breakfast. His groping hand encountered a bowl of pepper. He pushed the glass lid away and threw the bowl and ground pepper straight into James' face.

The bowl hit James on the chin, but the pepper flew up into his eyes. It stung, filling his eyes with water, blurring his vision and causing him to stumble. Kincaid smirked and, watching James all the while, stepped crab-like to one side. His feet encountered his sword and he bent to pick it up. He didn't notice Blair going for Delgado's sword until the tip was pressed against his throat.

Kincaid laughed. "By God's green earth, do you really think you can take me, boy? In your condition? Look at you!"

It was true that Blair had no strength, but he'd be damned if he'd let his father kill the man he loved. Kincaid was tired himself, worn out by at least two sword fights, but then he hadn't been tortured for God knows how many hours. He elbowed Blair in the ribs and forced him away. The Wolf almost doubled over. He tried valiantly to fight, but was quickly forced onto the defensive, backing up as Kincaid pushed forward.

James kept blinking, trying to clear his eyes, but it just made them sting all the more. He focused on his hearing, listening to Blair's labored breathing. He felt for his own sword, but he'd dropped it when the pepper blinded him. He had to find it, had to. He slipped to the floor and felt around.

Kincaid was toying with The Wolf, knocking his sword away with every step. "If I had the strength," Blair breathed, "you'd be dead by now."

"You've got iron ones, son, I'll say that. But it's you who will be the dead man."

"How are you getting off this rock, Kincaid?" James tried to draw his attention away from Blair. "Whose ship are you using so I can hunt you down and kill you?"

"Oh, don't you worry your head about that, Commander. Señor Carasco has been very helpful." Kincaid forced Blair back until he was up against the wall.

James went for his dagger -- could he throw it with any accuracy? His eyes were still watering but he could make out colors and shapes more. He listened carefully, one wrong move left or right and he could hit Blair. A single shot rang out... and he saw Kincaid's body drop to the floor, a red bud blossoming and growing from his side across his white calico shirt.

Simon stood in the doorway, his skin lit by the rising sun, a smoking trail from his gun rising in the air. James offered up a prayer of thanks and willed his feet over to where Blair was sliding down the wall, his legs no longer able to hold him up.

James stumbled and half-fell to Blair's side. "Captain? Blair? Are you all right?"

Blair smiled weakly, "You always ask the right questions, James. Yes, I think so. Is he dead?" He looked at the body of his father, and swallowed the bile that rose in his throat.

James put his hand over the fallen man's heart, feeling for the rise of his chest. Nothing. He gently turned the body to examine the exit hole. "Yes, the shot went right through." Just to be sure, he moved his hand over Kincaid's mouth, but Blair's father had breathed his last.

"Your eyes.... There's a vase of flowers on the table. Bathe your eyes. Here... let me." Blair pulled himself upright and half-leaning, half-pulling on James, he reached the edge of the table. He grabbed James' kerchief and used the water from the vase to thoroughly wet the cloth. "It's the best we can do for now," he said, gently wiping James' eyes.

James blinked several times and looked down into Blair's concerned face. "You are a sight for sore eyes, Captain," he said, with a smile.

Simon coughed, loudly. With a start, the two men realized where they were.

"Oh, God... Simon. Thank you. If you hadn't arrived when you did...." Blair didn't need to say any more.

"I came to tell you that a ship's been sighted, Captain. It looks like the Black Dog."

"Almondo's ship? Damn! I guess Kincaid wasn't lying, and what's the wager that Carasco's on board? We need to get up on the battlements."

Between the two men, his modesty covered with the borrowed coat, Blair managed the steps up to gaze once more on the ocean. Sure enough, there was a ship sailing towards the island, and flying from its top mast was Almondo's flag; beside it hung Carasco's colors.

"Is he on board, James?"

The sentinel focused his sore eyes on the deck of the distant ship. Hector Carasco stood with an eyeglass pointed towards the island. He was speaking to the Black Dog's captain who stood beside him. Suddenly it seemed whatever Almondo had said did not sit well with Carasco. He lowered the eyeglass, turned and hit the pirate captain hard with his fist. The man fell, and James turned to listen in... and shook his head as Carasco pulled out his pistol and fired a single shot, killing the fallen man and making James' ears ring.

"What is it, James?" Blair's hand rested on his first mate's shoulder and James focused on the deck of the ship again. Either Almondo's men were terrified of Carasco, or they were glad to see the back of their tyrannical captain. Not one of them had lifted a finger against the man who killed him. James heard Carasco order the guns to be made ready -- there had been no sign of the agreed signal from the fort. He would send out a warning shot. James relayed all that he heard back to his captain.

Blair looked around. There was nothing on the battlements to say what the correct signal could be. A shot from the cannon? Two shots? A particular flag? Group of flags? With no way of knowing what the prearranged signal was, they needed to be ready to fight.

"Pull that cannon around. Get it ready," he ordered.

Just then Joel emerged from the stairwell. "Captain, the garrison has all but surrendered. We have the fort!"

"Perfect timing, Joel. Can you sight that ship? James, how far would you say it is from us?"

Between them, Joel and James maneuvered the cannon so it faced towards the Black Dog. Joel looked at the gun critically. "I don't like this, Commander. Except for this one, these beasts have been neglected for months. With the island just off the new trade routes, it seems they've just been allowed to rust and rot where they stand."

"Let's hope we can get a few good shots off, Joel. If we can't... well, we go to plan b."

"Which would be...?"

"Damned if I know!" James grinned at his former first mate, and Joel laughed.

Simon rolled a powder keg over. "It seems dry," he observed. "Maybe someone's smiling down on us after all."

By the time they had the first gun loaded, other members of the Sea Wolf's crew had joined them and helped to shift the other cannons and make them ready.

When Carasco's shot was fired and no signal returned, his men set their cannons roaring towards the fort, but The Wolf's men were faster and more accurate. The fort's cannons took out the top of the main mast, but it was too far away to do more damage, and the Black Dog's guns roared again, hitting the fort and causing it to tremble.

Joel reloaded and fired as fast as he was able, but the first cannon was old and poorly made; it cracked, sending out billows of smoke and causing the men to scramble out of the way quickly. "That's all we're going to get out of this one, Captain," he said in disgust, "and there's no more powder up here."

More of the Sea Wolf's crew had arrived on top and they watched as Carasco's men began to lower their boats.

Just when it seemed that the tired men would have to fight again at close quarters, the Sea Wolf sailed around the tip of the island, her own guns blazing. The Black Dog's crew left the boats where they were and tried to return fire, but it was too little, too late, and the men on the battlements cheered as the enemy ship began to sink in the water.

For Blair it seemed to finally sap his last reserves of strength and he fell in a dead faint.

Blair felt vaguely uncomfortable. The feeling was just enough to stop him from falling back into the sweet sleep he'd been in. As he reluctantly paid more attention to the sensation, it grew and spread until he moaned out loud in pain.

"Well, if I'm in pain, then I must still be alive."

His voice sounded very rough and quiet, but someone heard him because a face swam into his vision.

"Captain?"

"Mister McKay?"

"Yes, sir. Do you know where you are?"

Good question. Blair raised his head just a little, but dropped it back with a groan. "It seems I'm not on shore any more."

The ship's surgeon smiled. "That would be correct, sir."

"Where's Mister Elli..."

"I'm here, Captain." James took Blair's hand and squeezed.

"Did we lose many men?"

James shook his head, "We lost two, but Jacob's had to stitch up a fair few more and some lost a deal of blood. We don't know if they'll pull through yet."

Blair closed his eyes, then opened them to fix on James. "I remember Delgado, who else?"

"Tyler."

"Damn!" Blair closed his eyes again.

"You need to rest, Captain." Jacob McKay's voice drifted over him. It was true, he was still very tired.

"James?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"Stay with me, please?"

"Always, Blair."

When he next regained consciousness, it was to hear the two men talking.

"What the guards lacked in finesse," Jacob was saying, "they more than made up for in brutality. He has masses of cuts and bruises, you've seen them yourself, and I believe a couple of his ribs have been damaged -- anything else, I can only guess at. I've given him some Peruvian bark; it's what the natives say helps prevent shaking and chills. I've used my own potion of egg yolk, oil of roses and turpentine on his wounds. Thankfully, they wanted him alive, so the damage may look worse than it is. The best he can do for the moment is rest."

"That would explain the smell. Peruvian bark? Is that one of the herbs you picked up at our last port?"

"Yes, a number of seamen swear by it, but I don't want him to have too much... I've heard it can lead to deafness."

There was a silence in the room, as if James was absorbing the information... Then Blair heard Jacob's voice again. "Did they really think that the Captain had some great treasure?"

"Just sailor talk," James answered. "The Wolf would no more hide any treasure from his men, than you would refuse to treat someone."

Blair decided he'd played being asleep long enough. He stirred from the pallet he lay on and tried to sit up, causing both James and Jacob to rush to steady him. "Apparently," he said quietly, "I'm credited with quite a bit since I started seducing naval officers. The garrison believed all the stories that have been told about us."

Blair caught James' eyes and the first mate had to shake his head. He could see the twinkle in the blue eyes. Even in his weakened condition, the captain could excite his lover. "Don't start something you can't finish," he cautioned.

Blair laughed and then moaned in pain. "Maybe not now, but soon," he vowed.

Jacob McKay looked from one man to the other and blushed as he saw the intensity of their gaze on each other. "I'll, em, go and check on my other patients."

James and Blair watched the young doctor leave, with a little amusement. "We have to get him bedded," said Blair.

"As long as you're not volunteering your services. He may prefer females."

"No, one man is enough for me. But I think our young doctor is just waiting for the right person to come along."

James elected to ignore that comment. "You know you scared the hell out of me."

"Yes... well, I was kind of scared myself there for a while."

James stroked Blair's hair. "Thank God you're still alive." He kissed Blair's forehead and slowly released him.

Blair moved his hand over his sore ribs. "This means I won't be able to get around much."

"No, you'll have to give the bones time to knit." James put his hand out to help Blair lie back down, but the captain gently put him off.

"No, first I'll need to go on deck for a while, to convince the men that I'm at least fit enough to captain. Tell me about the condition of the ship and her crew."

James sighed but helped him up. "Jacob's doing his best, but it's a case of 'waiting and seeing' how well some of our men recover. As for the Sea Wolf herself, she took some knocks, but they're all superficial and she is otherwise in good condition. When the Black Dog sank, it took Hector Carasco with it. The survivors from his ship are down below. Jacob's treating some."

"Does Maya know about her father?"

"Yes. A small group rowed out from the town when things quieted down and asked us to leave. They even offered us a fair price to go and not return."

"How much?"

"What?"

"How much did they offer to ask us to leave?"

"Blair... these are not rich people. The soil here is poor and...."

Blair put his hand to James' mouth. "I am jesting. Though I wish I could lay my hands on the dog who took my cross and earrings."

James smiled and moved one of the cloth bandages on the table. Under it sat Blair's trinkets.

"How? When?" Blair looked at James in surprise.

"I saw them on the table in the dungeon. I don't even remember picking them up, but they were tucked away in my jerkin when we got back."

"I love you, you know that?" Blair stroked James' face with his hand.

James kissed the palm. "We'll get them repaired as soon as possible. Now to return to Miss Carasco...."

"Ah, yes."

"On board the boat from the town was Maya's uncle, Gustavo Alcante. She elected to go with him." James reached into his jerkin. "She left you a letter."

Blair leaned up against the window to read it in the light.

Señor Sandburg,

I regret that I cannot say farewell in person, but I dare not tarry. My uncle has offered me a place with him as his daughter, so I will go. I am sorry my family has caused you so much suffering.

I love you, but you and your crew have robbed me of my father, so I have to say that I hate you too.

I believe it is better for us both that we never meet again.

I remain, sir, your servant, Maya Carasco

James squeezed Blair's shoulder. He'd read the letter and knew that Maya's words would upset his lover. "She's still young. Just give her time."

Blair sighed. "It just seems a waste, James. She's a bright young woman. If her father had only...." He sighed again and straightened a little -- it was no use dwelling on the past. "Let's show the men I'm still in the land of the living, and then I'll take a look at the maps to find us a safe harbor for a while and then..." he smiled, "... you can put me to bed."

James laughed, "You are both incorrigible and unstoppable, you know that. All right, I'll help you up on deck, and then get the maps out, but then you rest."

"And then I rest, if you will join me."

"Blair...."

"I'm joking. I know when to capitulate, and as much as I'd like to, I couldn't rise to the occasion right now. The spirit is willing.... But I will, you have my word on that."

"Oh, yes," James said and smiled.

The sun was hot, the breeze from the sea only slightly cooler. James sat on the warm golden sand with his shirt open and his legs stretched out in front of him, being pampered by two young native women. They fed him fruit, ran their hands over his chest, giggled and whispered in his ear but James didn't really hear them. His attention was focused on a figure cutting through the waves back to the shore. The man's movements were sure and strong. As he stepped out of the water, James leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Captain Sandburg stood up straight in the sunlight. He looked tanned and the picture of health, fully recovered from his near brush with death.

James still felt the chill when he remembered how he'd found Blair, cut, bleeding and bruised, shackled to the wall in the dungeon. For several nights afterwards, James suffered from night terrors where he'd arrived to find his lover raped, tortured and dying, too late for James to save him. He awoke shaking and sweating and Blair would hold him, rocking him till the dreams faded. Then Jim would carefully fill his senses with his lover, avoiding the worst of the wounds and driving Blair into ecstasy with his mouth and hands.

This island was just what the doctor ordered, a safe place, one that offered the crew a chance to enjoy some rest and relaxation while the ship was beached and careened, the hull cleaned of weed and shellfish. The young captain had established a good relationship with the natives and made sure his crew didn't break any tribal customs. If some of the crew had grown a little too friendly with the native women, neither they nor their men folk seemed to care. In fact, the Sea Wolf's crew treated the women well, and some had even taken part in tribal marriages. Both sides had benefited and the seamen were welcomed on the island.

Blair now stood at the edge of the water, dripping wet, clad only in his short breeches that clung to his limbs and were made almost transparent by the sea. To James' eyes, he looked thoroughly edible. The captain bent forward and shook his head, droplets of water flying away in all directions, causing tiny rainbows to shine and then disappear. He straightened and looked at James. In a moment, his first mate was on his feet and walking over to join his lover.

They strolled along the beach together. "Were you having fun?" Blair asked.

James laughed. "They wanted to know about you and me, how we..." He made a gesture with his hands.

"Oh. And you told them...?"

James smiled. "That love conquers all."

Blair laughed. "Sweet talker! You seem to have picked up the language very quickly."

James shrugged. "It's similar to one I encountered before."

Blair looked up at the taller man, but James didn't seem willing to give out any more information, so he turned towards the ocean. "There's a small cove just round that headland, secluded and quiet. Care to join me?" Without waiting for an answer, Blair ran back into the water and began to swim.

James looked back just once to the two women watching on the beach and then dived in to follow his mate.

He caught up with him just at the headland and pulled Blair's willing body to his own, both men treading water. "You knew I'd come after you," James said as the water buoyed them up.

Blair smiled, and slipped his hands around James' neck. "I knew if I just hung on, you would come for me. I hope you always will."

The older man grew serious. "I really thought I would lose you," he whispered, his forehead touching that of his lover.

Blair sighed. He knew recent events still haunted the other man. "But you didn't," he replied just as quietly.

"I could have."

"But you didn't!" Blair stopped all further discussion by pulling James' head to his own and kissing the man senseless.

They were finally forced to separate or risk drowning. "Shall we take this to the shore?" Blair was breathless with the intensity of the kiss. They swam together at a more leisurely pace.

Once on the beach, Blair flopped down, panting, while James climbed to reach some of the long yellow fruit hanging from a tree, which he then carefully dropped down on to his captain's supine body.

"Ah, my love woos me with bananas! What do you have in mind, man o' mine?" Blair's eyes twinkled. He slowly peeled one of the fruit and began to run his tongue along it before taking just the tip into his mouth and sucking.

James watched, mesmerized. He felt his cock fill and he groaned. "By God, Blair, what you do to me." He knelt beside his lover.

Blair lost interest in tormenting the banana, put it to one side and pulled his mate to him. "Show me. I want you in me," he said breathlessly, before taking James' mouth in a demanding kiss.

James pulled away, stood and looked around, searching for something. He saw a plant he recognized. "The sap from this bush, it has healing properties. When I was shipwrecked, the tribe that found me, they used it." He could barely string a sentence together. "It's also used as a lubricant... " His voice faltered as he turned back to his lover.

Blair had shrugged off his breeches and was lying on them, naked. He was biting his lower lip, staring at James and all the while stroking his cock. The first mate could see the droplets of sweat glistening amongst Blair's chest hairs, see the pearl of pre-come on the tip of that proud cock, smell it all, almost taste it.

Blair lifted his hand, now wet with sweat and come, and held it towards his lover. "James," he called, his voice thick with need and desire.

James was beside his captain before he was conscious of moving.

"Taste me," Blair ordered, offering his hand. James slowly sucked at the fingers, drawing them into his mouth one by one. "Can you smell how much I want you?"

James released Blair's hand but placed a kiss on the palm. "Yes."

"Do you want me?"

"Do you need to ask?"

"Then, please, James, don't make me beg. Touch me, take me."

James groaned and closed his eyes. He tried to gain a measure of control. The plant, almost forgotten in his hand, was squeezed tight, its juice flowed through his fingers. He opened his eyes to see Blair waiting, his eyes nearly black with desire, and James couldn't, wouldn't, make him wait any longer.

Soon the air was filled with groans and moans of pleasure. A long drawn out howl caused the birds in nearby trees to erupt into the air, only to return to their nests as they realized there was no danger and their world returned to peace.

"I could give it all up, you know." Blair was stroking James' hair as the taller man lay beside him, running his fingers through Blair's chest hair.

"And do what exactly?"

"Build a house here with you. The natives accept us, would welcome your talents as watchman. Here there's no talk of sorcery or witchcraft. Here they would respect you."

"You're my sorcerer." James lifted his head to press his lips to Blair's. "You could educate the natives here."

Blair frowned. "It's been a long time since I turned my back on any idea of an academic life."

"Of course, you may get bored, stuck on one small island." James played with the sand, allowing it to run through his fingers as he watched.

"I doubt it, not with you here!"

"The ship..."

"You're just playing 'devil's advocate'!" Blair hit James' chest with the flat of his hand. "Simon can take over as captain. He's more than competent, and the crew respect him."

"You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"That last time," Blair replied slowly, "the nightmares we both suffered.... Pirates do not live long lives, James. You could have been seriously hurt coming after me. I could still lose you in a battle. I don't want to risk you... us."

James looked around. "A life here could be good. We could keep these people safe from slavers and keep a safe harbor for our men, when they need it."

Blair kissed him. "So, we're decided?" James nodded. "I love you, James Ellison."

"And I you, Blair Sandburg."

Blair leaned back. Sometimes he needed something to fill his brain other than reports of death and crime. He needed a distraction from the real life violence that filled his and Jim's lives, and his dream had inspired him. He smiled ruefully; now this WAS a work of fiction.

The program asked if he wanted to save the document. He hesitated. Why would he want to save a piece of fiction when he had the real deal waiting for him upstairs? On the other hand, he might feel a need to revisit the world of the Sea Wolf one day. He placed a disc in the drive and clicked 'save'. He watched as the laptop did its own thing, and then he removed the disc and finished shutting down the computer.

He stood and stretched, his joints popping.

"You finally coming up, Chief?" Jim called from upstairs.

Blair grinned. "Oh I'm coming, man, I'm coming." And he climbed the stairs to the arms of his own man o' love... his soul-mate, his Jim.