try_corsets | (no subject)

(no subject)

A pirate steals into the kitchen, stops in the shadows and looks around.

The Milliways kitchens are never fully asleep, but when it's so late it's actually early one can sneak in relatively undetected and snoop around. The refrigerators are large and fully-stocked, the aromas as appealing as during the busiest dinner hour. All a pirate has to do is ignore the rats and the rest is a veritable feast for the taking.

This particular pirate isn't after rum and something edible to chase it with, however.

Captain Elizabeth Turner, Pirate King and soon to be mother, simply wants some milk to ease the persistent burning sensation near her heart. It is one of many indignities she's been forced to endure lately, and she's not about to sit around and suffer on the Empress when relief can be had here.

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Yeah, he's noticing that she's not relinquishing the Nutella in favor of the Tums. And really, it's not something he'd blame her for.

"They're not so bad, as meds go. I mean, they're fun to chew, do the job, and even if you don't have burning they're a great source of calcium. Which beats cuttlebone any day of the week.

...

Wow I sound like a commercial."
Mike plops the spoon into an open pocket, and begins to open the roll of Tums.

"I don't know that I'm the best person to ask for advice, I mean...aside from just following doctor's orders as close as you can."
She has a doctor, right?

Licking her spoon, Elizabeth closely watches his progress with the roll. If she's not vigilant, he might try to trick her and drop one in the jar. Fun to chew isn't enough to do away with her wariness.

"I don't have any to follow. Books were provided," she drawls.

Provided by Bar.

Elizabeth had nightmares for a week after reading the first.

"I'm perfectly healthy," she insists.

"Hence the heartburn." It's now that he offers her one of the white minty disks. White minty disks that look an awful lot like chalk.

Not to mention how they feel. Elizabeth takes it between thumb and forefinger, then slips it into her palm. She might eat it later. For the moment, the Nutella seems to be doing the trick.

"Attempting to hide a pregnancy from a crew of potentially mutinous pirates is a singular form of stress," she asserts, "and has no bearing on my general constitution."

Hide a pregnancy? Why would she have to...oh. OH!
Several pieces of the puzzle that is Elizabeth click into place in Mike's head. Why she's so thin, for instance. Why she's wearing several layers of clothing. Why she doesn't seem all that pleased to be with child in the first place.

In that instance Mike finds his already over-sized heart growing three sizes larger, and a decision is made.

Mike will personally take care of Liz and her baby. No matter what it takes. Overbearing empathy aside, it's really the only polite thing to do, given that she's carrying the half-sibling of Mike's own sproglet.

Surely nothing bad could come from this, right?

"Well you don't have to hide here. Not anymore. Anything you want, is yours. I can even help make you some better duds for when you go home."

If it's one thing Mike's really good at, it's making outfits that will conceal just about anything. Like...say...a shell.

At first, Elizabeth looks suspicious.

(Pirate.)

A generous offer like that usually comes with strings attached. Bit by bit, however, she lowers her guard and unbends enough to offer a stilted, "Thank you."

Her chin goes up a notch.

"A few have undoubtedly figured it out. I cannot fathom how they wouldn't. My disguise grows distracting at best, and there have been rumblings of dissent." Mostly identified and reported by Gibbs. "The only thing keeping us from outright mutiny, I suspect, is my connection to the captain of the Flying Dutchman. Stories still circulate amongst the crew."

Again, thanks to Gibbs.

Mike snags himself a jar of Nutella, then beckons Elizabeth over to one of the tables.

"So what you're telling me is that in addition to a new, less conspicuous wardrobe, that you could also be in the market for some muscle, maybe?"

Curiosity has her follow him without argument.

"Perhaps you had better explain."

That's not a no.

Mike rests his left elbow on one of the taller prep tables while his right hand rubs at his lower back. It doesn't matter how good a shape you're in, pregnancy is a full contact sport that will kick your ass.

"It's wicked easy. You have a problem. I have a solution.

...

Or you know, at very least ideas for possible solutions, anyway."

That's almost the same thing!

Unconsciously, Elizabeth starts rubbing her own back. Only for a moment, because soon she's making a gesture for him to get on with it.

"Do tell."

Yeah, Mike sees what you did there.

"This, right here?" he gestures towards his belly. "Isn't easy. I mean, I've got unlimited resources at my disposal and some of the best minds the multiverse has to offer and it still isn't easy.

You're hiding from your crew on a boat in the middle of the ocean. That...is like...as opposite my situation as possible. So let me help you. Let me get you the food you want, the clothes you need, and if push comes to shove...someone or ones who can shove back just as hard."

His mind instantly goes to Raph.

"Or harder, you know...if need be. What you're going through now is hard enough already without all the other stuff getting in the way."

"Ship," Elizabeth corrects, absently.

The suspicion is still there in her narrowed eyes.

"Are you suggesting I hire someone to intimidate the other pirates?"

She's a little insulted, but also a little intrigued.

"No, of course not," he says with a dismissive chuckle. "I'll do it."

Elizabeth laughs sharply.

There's no way anyone will be boarding her ship without the Captain's say so.

"Why?" she says at last. "Why help me?"

Even as she asks, her mind is racing ahead to the possibilities. If it was someone secret, someone who worked in darkness and was back through the door before first light... it might work.

He shrugs. "Why not?"

Mike slowly flexes his shoulder backward, the resulting crackle of joints and tendons prompts a happy sigh.

"I mean, we ladies don't look out for each other, who will?"

"Right."

Nothing about this makes sense. Luckily, Elizabeth had learned long ago to stop seeking reason in this place and instead take advantage of what it offers. And what it -- or Mike -- is presently offering is very advantageous indeed.

"Very well, I accept. Do you have someone in mind?"

She can't deny that Mike looks about as lady-like as Elizabeth feels on a daily basis!

"I do in fact. Battle tested, discreet but lethal, and better still: I trust him with my life. My brother Raphael."

What? Raph can be discreet when he needs to be.
...
No really.
Stop laughing!

As Elizabeth has not had the pleasure of meeting his brother Raphael, she fails to see any humor in this suggestion.

"Discrete, you say. But could he move about a ship undetected?"

Though her hand settles on her stomach in a way that might be considered protective, there's a distinct calculating look in her eyes.

"As a master of both Ninjitsu and Shang, there isn't a doubt in my mind what so ever. If we phrase it right I bet we could even get him to leave little mints on everyone's pillows."

Damn it, now Mike's craving mint. His eyes start to dart around the kitchen for where the fresh herbs are stored.

Elizabeth is craving anything that isn't a dry biscuit, but that's neither here nor there.

She watches him, rather than follow his eyes towards where he's looking.

"Would he be willing?"

Judging by the expression on his face, Mike has spied what he's looking for on the opposite side of the room.

"Willing? To rattle some cages and possibly bust a head or two? Raph? Trust me when I say that that's like asking a fish if he likes water."

He turns towards her and smirks.

"Or a if a pirate likes rum."

"Vile stuff," she says, and cracks a smile. "Not everyone is so generous to people they've only just met."

And by that she really means nobody in her experience, which is perhaps why the words carry a hint of warning.

"See if you can find some sort of meat over there, will you?"

Elizabeth is already digging into the jar again as she asks.

Mike smiles and offers her a salute before he's off and rummaging through the kitchen.

"Yeah, but I'm not everyone, and because of that I can afford to be generous."

Mmm. Handful of freshmint. Yes, with the stems included. Actually...mostly stems. Damn cravings.

"Back where I'm from we're not...well, we're not really in circulation. Don't have many friends, but the few we do have are family. Do you want this meat of yours hot or cold?"

Slow down for change in topics? Not our Mike.

Elizabeth considers for all of two seconds before replying, "Hot. Definitely."

Another spoonful of Nutella disappears as she ponders his statement.

"I don't have many myself. Tonks, Plourr and of course Will. Mr. Gibbs, yes, but-" She purses her lips. "Truly a captain can not also be a friend."

"They kind of say the same thing about Ninjas. It's one of the reasons why I retired."

Mike's first thought was how badly Elizabeth needed a cheeseburger, but then he realized that while it would be satisfying to watch her eat it...the chances of her actually gleaning any nutrition from that grease laden meal is pretty slim to none.

A big whopping fillet, on the other hand, simply seared and seasoned with just a touch of kosher salt? That'd do her much nicer.

"How do you feel about mashed potatoes and maybe some green beans?"