Child's Play

~Amelia Jones~

Tipping the brim of my hat as two men left the saloon and I entered, my sky blue, cerulean eyes scanned the area for any potential problems. As I sat at the bar, the doors of the establishment parted once again, the large swaths of brightly colored fabric and large white feather proceeded the figure beneath them as it swept in. A genuine pirate. The Devil himself cloaked with evergreen eyes, revealed in a wicked smirk and the hungry gleam of his personage emerging darkly in the same immensely deep, foreboding eyes, the same shadow hovering above them, projected from the wide brim of the Captain's hat on his head, accented with the jewel hanging from his ear.
His dark leather boots carried him to the stool next to me, on which he sat. A gargled Englishman's English left his mouth, and due to the misdirection of his eyes, it took a moment for me to recognize the demand's direction towards me. "Oi, you. Wench. Bes a good lass an' gets me a rum."
"I'm not a wench."
"Oi, bitch. Gets me a rum."
"I have a name, pirate."
"Oh, pray tell."
"Sheriff Jones."
"Nay, tha' won' does. Wha' be your name, bird?"
"Sheriff."
"You look mo'e akins to... A Challenge. I very much likes a goo' challenge, miss."
"And you look like trouble. And I ain't too fond of trouble. So I guess you're dumb out of luck, Captain."
His eyes took then to looking me over, grazing over me in a way that put me quite in a discomfort. When they finally came to rest on my face, a possession had hold of them, predatory, ravenous, fierce, as held by such rabid beasts of the highest terrors. It nearly put me in a shock, or a sweat, but I held my ground, as not to be shaken.
"Let's you I makes a deal."
"And what deal is that?"
"Your name in exchange for a drink."
"How about my name in exchange for your leaving my town?"
"Oh, where's be the fun in that, Bonnie?"
"The part where I don't have to arrest you."
"Arrest me? But what for? Because I bes a pirate?"
The egotistical smirk widening on his face led me to affirm the same conclusion as he had. My claim,  however grandiose  and threatening," held no ground. "You hold no charge against me." He rose to the same standing position as I had taken, hands clasped at the small of his back as he leaned towards me. Thin lips parted in a wicked, self assured, prideful smile as he whispered the words slipping like poison into my veins, bringing my blood to a rolling boil. "And no matter what I does, me little chick, you'll never catch me."
The tingle that slunk, snake like, down my spine succeeded only in feeding the arrogant shine of the man's eyes.
"Now, if you doesn't mind learning some maturity, tells me, what be your name?"
A potent venom laced itself into my speech as the hiss left me, reflected in the vast pools of my eyes. "Amelia. My name is Amelia."
He rolled it on his tongue, before extending a gloved hand. "Captain Arthur Kirkland ofs me good ship The Empirical."
I hesitated, taking his hand with a tentative grip, my hand seeming much smaller whilst clasped in his. The animalistic nature of his serpentine green eyes as he looked into mine then, bore into me, leaving a permanent brand, it felt, burning the flesh to leave a mark on my life, that would never be rubbed clean.
"I was promised a drink?"
He laughed, a sinister, dark thing, dropping a single golden piece on the table, the coin's solid thunk, the gentle vibration felt in the grain of the wood was distinctive. Two dirty mugs of rum were presented to us, my sheriffs badge reflected softly against the gently dirty glass. From the corner of our eyes we observed each other as we drank, watching, committing to memory the mannerisms of our decided prey.  For me, my sole intention was his imminent arrest, though the way his greedy eyes followed my movements, the luster they held as he smirked at me gave me the impression escaping me alone was not his goal. As badly as I wanted him in jail, he wanted me for another reason completely. Which scared me to a point I can't seem to very well iterate, as the strangeness of his being put me off in such ways, numbering more than one.
"Wha' says you to comin' to me ship?"
"No way in hell. I don't really do ships. I get seasick. Bad memories."
"Come now-"
"Back off."
Before he protests, a scoff is heard. One of the troublemakers I dealt with before. "Trust me, you won't take her. The closest thing to a sexual experience you'll ever get with The sheriff is getting arrested."
"Seems pretty close though."
The two snicker, agreeing and whispering something to each other. In the time they do this, Captain Kirkland has looked me over again, studying my face, now. "What the Hell do you want?"
"Actually, what I be wanting, chickadee, is you."
"No! You can't have that!"
"Bu, me beauty, I ge' anything, or one I wa'."
"Yer fixin ta ma' a strumpet o' er, cap'n?"
"Aye! She's a boxom lass, ain' she?"
"How's you be goin' to acquire a booty such as it?"
"I be thinkin to collect the bi' by a sligh' crimp."
The way they spoke about something in such a way that I can't comprehend. "What are you saying?"
"Aw, the lass is addled."
"I'm not addled!" My anger fuelled the words, and though I didn't really know what addled meant, I was in the state of mind to disagree with anything coming out of the pirate's mouth.
"Now, don't you be going an' hangin' the jib, Amelia."
"And what the hell  does that mean? Unless you think I'm going to hang you? Which, at this point, I very well might do."
"Oi, calm yer-"
My fiery gaze met his as I swept closer, noting the money he'd pocketed. The barrel of my pistol was held under his jaw, and immediately, likewise, blunderbusses are pointed my way. "Put it back."
"What back, scrumpet?"
"The second you shoot, we'll blow ye down, lassie."
"But your captain'll be dead by then, wouldn't he?"
He laughed then, smiling down at me with the same amusedly hungry eyes.
"Aye, and more's the pity."
"But no one dies if you just put. It. Back."
"Oh, button down yer hatches, poppet."
"And stay yer claws!"
"Shut yer gob, dog."
"Aye Aye."
"Be you easy, now."
"Put it back, and maybe I will."
"Mm." He seemed to deliberate,  trying to figure the importance.
"Perhaps if you'll come away with me."
"I'm not going to do that! Be stuck on a ship with you for company? No thanks."
"Oh, not just I. Me crew too. They needs companionship, aye?"
"Aye!"
"A nice li' bi' o daintiness su' as yourself woulds do nicely."
"I'm not a harlet!"
"Nay, but you' ma' a pretty one."
With a low growl, I removed the barrel from his gullet. "Get out of town." My words were a demand, cold as I retrieved the gold he'd snatched from his pocket and handed it to the bar keep, taking my leave of him.
"Ah, catch me a hold o' the sli' and bring 'er up alongside, and sharp, too."
I ducked below the arms trying to grab me, squatting close to the ground. Standing behind his arm, I jabbed my elbow into his back between his shoulder blades, jerking him forwards and taking the twin firearms from their holsters at my hips, swirling them upon my fingers and pointing them assuredly at two of the crew mates, a grin on my lips. /Here we go./ "Do I need to restore order, boys? Or will ya settle down?"
"You akin to tame us, pigeon?"
"Nay. Just rid my town of the likes of you. Dead or alive, I don't really hold a preference."
A ball flew from one of the pirates, and I slipped into a splits, saving myself and firing back as the inhabitants of the town in the saloon took cover.

~Arthur Kirkland~

"Mind yerself, men.
"Oh, whats tha'? Cap'n don wan us hur'n his pearl o' woman ware."
"Aye, tha's righ'."
One of my ship mates was busy wrapping an arm around a nearby woman, romancing her with whispers in her ear.
"Is been a mighty while since last we's taken us a missy."
"Aye, I think it be nice to get me tha' armful."
"Why you be so keen on 'er, cap'n?"
"The vixen told me no."
"Di' she?"
"Arrgh."
"So what of whe' you ge' her?"
"I'll figure it when it comes. Lets you I speak no more of it now. Leave me be."
"Fair winds, cap'n."
"Aye."  A pain exploded in my shoulder, grazed by a bullet straight from the lass's pistol. "Bleeding hell! Ye shrew! You shot me!" My blunderbuss was quickly in my hand, rage sparking in my eyes.
"I told you to leave."
With a curt nod, my men grabbed her wrists, confiscating her weapons, and holding them against her.
"I figure yous be mo' keen to drop anchor at me ship? Is that not the truths of it, me little harem girl?"
Amelia struggled, an exemplary curse leaving her lips,  and the two holding the guns against her sides cocked the pistols threateningly.
“Run and twist as ye like, bu' mind yer tongue, an mew not, li' claw cat.”
“I'll mew if I damn want to!”
“I reckon you wont. Now, stands away with me, Amelia Jones.”
“I won't do that. No way in hell. I'm needed here. To protect this town from people like you.”
The strong splinter of anger in her eyes blazed as she glared dangerously at me. So of course, I stepped closer, setting a finger under her chin. “You'll learn, me dear, fluttering dove, that one can not protect something from me. You can only gives me what I wants before I goes to drastic measures to get it.”
"And you'll learn, pirate, that I ain't gonna give up until your gone or buried."
A grin spread on my lips, as I evaluated my prey carefully. "I will, will I?" My crew laughed, a hearty bellow.
"Yeah."
"That'd bes quite the feat, bird."
"Then it's a good thing I'm quite the sheriff, ain't it?"
My smirk grew, and I found myself holding her chin tighter as she struggled, albeit fruitlessly.
"Aye. Ye've perked me interest, Amelia."
In an intense whirlwind of movement and motion, the two holding my bitty hostage crumpled in on themselves in pain while the rough twine of rope chafed the equally harsh skin of my wrists, the lady "Sheriff"'s warm and sweetly scented breath on the nape of my neck. With hands then bound behind my back, I drew them upwards in a rapid motion, hitting her squarely under the jaw and regaining control for a moment. But a measly moment before the victorious smirk was wiped off my personage as my legs were swept out from under me and my body collided with an obtrusive thud on the hard floor of the pub, the petite figure of my most recent prey crouched over my back, her voice, breathless, found my ears easily and with a cruel sting, though by some Godly, (or more likely, wholly ungodly) device, a grin maintained it's post on my lips.