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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Especially the type of sails the Empress uses.

"A baby what?"

Just when she thinks it's safe to relax...

"Baby shower," he repeats. "It's like...a party where people give you stuff to help with the baby. Then there's games and cake."

Still struggling with the term 'shower,' Elizabeth eyes Mike.

"People... give you things?" Beat. "Voluntarily?"

The cake sounds quite nice, however.

"Only if you're there."

She will not participate alone.

"And miss out on the only baby shower I'll ever truly be qualified to go to? Wild horses couldn't tear me away."

Mike takes the plate, and brings it back over to the resting steak.

"You really don't think to highly of people, do you?"

She starts to say something, then swallows it.

Hard.

"You're mistaken," she says, even though he's not, not really. "I'm a pirate. In order to survive, a pirate learns quickly to look for ulterior motives."

Up go his eyebrows. "And here I thought it was pirates who dealt in ulterior motives."

The fillet is, itself, filleted. Silverware is accumulated and a placemat is set up.

"It's okay, I'm not offended."

There's a giant glass of milk to be fetched.

"Precisely."

Elizabeth just smiles.

"Good Lord, that smells delicious," slips out moments later.

"Not everyone's a pirate," he says simply.

Taaa daaa! Crisp and bright green beans. Creamy mashed potatoes, with extra cream. And...well, then there's the steak. Mike doesn't supply her with a knife, because there's just no need.

"Well, I do aim to please."

"Yes, but when you are king of them and must..."

Whatever argument she'd been about to make is lost when she gets a glimpse of her finished plate. She makes a face like a fish for a few moments, then turns and says, very primly, "Thank you."

The food starts to disappear at a rapid rate, though for a pirate Elizabeth really has excellent table manners.

"Very well. Tell me more about baby showers."

Mike can talk. Her mouth is going to be busy for a while.

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