Child's Play- Chapter Eleven- Trading Game

Trading Game

~Amelia Jones~

Feli's pasta was amazing. For food made on a ship, it quarreled with Sally's burgers for the title of the best thing I'd ever eaten.

"Ve~ Bella~ Did you like it?"

"Yeah. It's awesome."

"Ve~ Grazi Amelia~"

I laughed softly at the gentle roll that he put on my name. It took a moment for me to notice the steady forest green gaze set on me, it's origin being set under an all too familiar pair of bushy eyebrows.

"What?"

"Nothin'." He looked to his plate, obviously distracted by some thought whirling about his probably largely empty mind.

"What are you, eight?"

"Yer the one who's too afraid to kiss someone."

"I'm not afraid. I don't want to."

"Nay, I don't believe ye."

"Your loss." There was something about the way he smiled then, gentle and soft. His eyes searched mine in an intense, personal but not invasive manner. And it caused an uncomfortable chill to slink up my spine that I'd rather forget I felt. The awkward silence grew around us, tense and thick.

"Bella~ Why are you afraid of kisses~? Kisses aren't scary~! Are you scared of doing it wrong?"

"No! I don't care if I do it right or not. After all, I don't have anybody to impress." Arthur's ass hole smirk only made me loath him more.

"I can teach you and it won't be scary~!"

"I'm not scared of messing up!"

"She be's scared o' feelin's, Feli."

"But feelings aren't scary~! What kind~?"

"Ye'll have to ask."

"I'm not hungry anymore." I stood, exiting the room and ascending the stairs to the deck. At that point, even a salt infested breath was better than one coated in the rum scented body odor of multiple sweaty unwashed men.

However, I didn't escape them for long. Arthur stood beside me, glancing over at me with a horribly knowing grin.

"Shut up."

"How? I hasn't said anythin'."

"You're face is stupid enough to get the message across."

"Feli's not tryin' ta call ye out on anythin'. He jus' doesn' understan' yer complicated feminine feelin's."

"Ha! Are you sure he's not a girl himself?"
I couldn't read the smile on his face. It wasn't any of the sort I'd seen on his-or any other man's- before.

"Fairly. He's damn naïve though, that boy."

"I can tell."

"His sister's on another ship. Lover's the captain."

"I didn't think pirate's collected women."

"New tren'?"

~Arthur Kirkland~

The way she laughed softly made me smile again. Damn Feli. Our little agreement really had payed off. Kid did good.

"Victoria be's slippin' us by if ye don' make up her min'."
She sighed. She turned her incredibly blue, I assume one could call them cerulean, eyes towards me.

"What kind of kiss?"

"Wou' ye like me ta show ye firs'?"

"No!"

"Hmm... Ten seconds 'least."

"Ten? No way."

I smirked, knowing full well that eventually, I'd get my way. "Aye. Ten. Go 'head. Think on it if ye must. Though it sho-" I wasn't allowed to finish. She stood slightly on her tip toes, one arm around my neck to stabilize her, the wrist of her other hand on my shoulder, counting off the miraculous seconds that elapsed when her lips met mine. My own arms instinctively fell about her waist, holding her closer to me than she'd intended. Her lips crashed against my own, and I let my mouth gently meld to hers, showing her a tenderness that I was not keen to adopt. She had a taste similar to that of apple pie, the cinnamon and softness that it held. By the sixth second, I could tell Amelia was beginning to melt, her body fitting against mine in a beautiful, perfect manner. Her hand balled up, forgetting to count as her arm tightened around my neck. I tilted my head at a gentle angle, increasing the contact between our lips. There was nothing like that kiss in the entire universe of human experience that could potentially make the reality of that moment more clear to you. It stood, and stands, a solitary masterpiece of creation, in and of itself perfect and alone. Because for twelve glorious seconds, I was not alone.

There was a tender silence after she pulled away, blue eyes wide in surprise at the way that kiss had made her feel. "I'll be's turnin' the wheel."

As my fingers grasped the wooden wheel, I smiled at the golden hue of the back of her head, the afternoon sun glinting off it.  She swallowed softly, failing to hide the way she rested the tips of her fingers against her plump lips.

The men filtered upstairs not long after, and with Peter swabbing the deck as I'd instructed him, Amelia was ushered to stand beside me, the weather getting colder steadily as we climbed northward.

By the time the sun had dipped below the ocean's multi-hued surface, she was wearing my coat and my hat. They were both hugely over sized on her small body, the way her fingers could only sometimes be seen peeping over the edge of the coat sleeves, and how the hat continually fell in her face. I tilted it upwards as the sun set to better see the small visage dwarfed by the hat atop her head.


"Hungry, 'Melia?"

She nodded softly, eyes large as she held her arms to her chest. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, in a truly merciful action, offering the warmth our bodies together generated. And for once, she didn't push me away.

~Amelia Jones~

I didn't say much that night. I couldn't think of anything to say that I was certain I agreed to. My whole world had been flipped upon it's head, at the notion that the kiss I'd shared with the pirate had seemed, actually, /enjoyable/. The very thought scared me to a point that if Arthur hadn't been pulling me around, I wouldn't have been able to move. After dinner, Arthur took me back to his quarters.

He cupped my cheek with his hand and kissed me softly before crawling into bed. Leaving me with the startling realization that I didn't hate it. Or, quite possibly, the captain himself.