Hi This is chapter one of a new AU. I know! I know! The Fresh Start boys are supposed to be on their way to the island again and you want to know what happens there. And I know that Spirit of Fun was a cliffhanger - I've gotten the death threats not to take so long this time - and I also know that I promised a couple of you a new Vince story. . . But you see, it's Easter Sunday and I'm the Mama so that means I have to do the cooking. Now, my children think I like nothing better than having them all gathered in our house for a big family meal. They think I love to cook. They think I don't mind in the least the big mess that it all makes. THEY ARE DELUSIONAL. Wonderful, bright, and completely lovable---but nonetheless, delusional. I do love them with all my heart, and I do love seeing them but...I don't want to cook and clean all day, I want to write smut. So while the ham is baking, I wrote this story. I't for you but it's also for me. I love AU stories. And . . . I suggest you like it, too. Trust me, you don't want to mess with a Mama who's been forced to cook. DiAnn The Cabin Boy Chapter 1 Rating: NC17 - SLASH/ language Category: Pure Trash /Discipline / m/m Slash/ AU Warning: Mulder / Skinner Slash. If you don't like this kind of thing, or you are underage, go somewhere else . . . Please! I don't want to hear from you and I don't want to hear from your Mama. Spoiler: Not in this chapter. Summary: An AU - Handome but possessive pirate captains, lost treasure, and pretty, hazel-eyed cabin boys. Something for everyone! Disclaimer: I do not, nor ever will, own Mulder, Skinner or anyone else from the X-Files. I am borrowing them without permission and am obviously not receiving money for this stuff. We all know who they really belong to, CC, Fox and lots of other people but again, not me. The Cabin Boy By: DiAnn Fox Mulder rubbed at his tired eyes, then quickly lowered his head back to the ledgers he had to finish before he could crawl into the tiny cot that served as his bed. He looked forlornly around the dreary counting house. It was a truly dismal place, lacking either warmth or charm. He supposed he should be appreciative to have even so much as the lumpy cot, many an indentured servant spent their nights on nothing more than a blanket lying in a cold corner. He rubbed at his eyes once more, then dipped his quill back into the inkwell, hoping that the tiny stub of a candle he had been allowed would not gut itself out before he completed his work. Mr. Blevins would be most unhappy should be arrive tomorrow morning to find the ledgers unfinished. As Fox marked the last number into the last column, and carefully blew out the sputtering candle. He looked up through the only tiny window in the small dockside counting house and saw that the moon was well over the yardarm. He would have but a few hours rest before he would once again be expected to take his place on this uncomfortable stool and apply his skills to Mr. Blevins' account books. He had been existing in this cheerless life for three long years now, and each day was a misery unto itself. He shivered in the cold night air. Without the candle's meager light, it seemed colder still. The counting house was unheated and there was an icy wind blowing in off the sea tonight, there would be a storm before morning no doubt. Fox wished he had a thicker blanket or perhaps even a warm coat, but those were only dreams for a an indentured servant to the likes of Mr. Blevins. Fox rose from his high, wooden stool, stretching his back until he felt a few satisfying pops. He then climbed upon some stacked wooden barrels until he could look out the tiny window so high above the floor. He would have loved to go out to stand by the ocean, cold night or not, but he knew the door was locked. It would not be unlocked again until morning. Yet another reason Fox was always so careful with his lighted candle. Should there be a fire, he would be trapped inside the old building. He leaned his elbows on the window ledge and pretended he could smell the ocean instead of the dust and grime of the counting house. He closed his eyes and smiled as he thought of his sweet, little sister back in England. Once he had worked off his seven years for Mr. Blevins, he would find a good job and then he would be able to save enough money to bring Samantha here to America. Then the two of them would be together once again, free to enjoy their mutual love of the sea. It was a dream he held tight to his sorrowful heart, it was all that helped him survive the brutality of his life and his master. Fox left his perch and felt his way through the dark and into the small back room that served as his quarters. His master had given him almost half a loaf of bread and a bit of cheese yesterday, but he had been so hungry after several days of being without rations, that now little remained of the previous day's bounty. He sighed as he ate his small meal. Mr. Blevins had pointed out many times the importance of discipline, of making the food last until more was given, it just never seemed to happen. Part of the problem was that Fox was never sure exactly how many days there would be between each distribution of food, therefore he ended up spending most of his days hungry. He stretched out on his cot and pulled the thin blanket up over his shoulders. He smiled again as he thought of his sister. He hoped she was surviving in the orphanage in which her brother had been forced to leave her. It had seemed a clean enough place and that nice Mrs. Scully, a good-hearted, if poor woman. Fox startled as he heard the rattle of keys as the door to the counting house opened. He sat up on his cot and looked around himself. It was still several hours until dawn. Mr. Blevins never arrived at the counting house this early. Fox quickly rose from his bed, chipped the ice from the top of the bowl of water he used for bathing and splashed the weariness from his face. As he rounded the door that led to the counting house main room, he stopped short. Mr. Blevins and two other well-dressed men were busy lighting the lamps as they swayed on their feet, laughing and slurring out bawdy songs. Apparently his employer had not made it to his bed yet this night. "May I be of assistance, sir?" "May I be of assistance, sir?" Blevins repeated in a high, mocking tone. "You could be of assistance, Fox, but I truly doubt that you will be. My associates wish to see yesterday's ledger. Where is it?" "It on my desk, sir." Fox walked across the room to his desk but the ledger was no longer lying on top. Fox felt absolute panic as quickly searched all around and under the desk for the missing paperwork. It was gone. He had left it lying there just a few hours ago and now it was gone. He looked up into his master's angry eyes. "You didn't finish your work, did you Fox?" "Yes, sir! I did, sir! It was right there. I swear to you that it was." "Don't lie to me, boy. You should have no doubts that I know exactly how to deal with laziness and disobedience. Remove your trousers and lay across my desk, Fox. I'm sure you remember the position quite well. And you might as well take off your shirt as well, it will only be in my way." Fox did indeed remember his last trip across that desk quite well. He glanced nervously at the other two men who stood smirking at him in the glare of the many lamps that had been lit in the tiny counting house. Fox couldn't remember the last time it had been so bright in the small building. "Please sir, I beg you. Just give me a few minutes and I'm certain I can find the missing ledgers." "Do not play me for a fool, boy!" Blevins screeched. "I know you type. Shiftless and lazy the lot of you. Well I won't have it from someone I feed and cloth with my own hard-earned gold coin. I bought you to work, and work you will or pay the consequences. Now bare your impudent backside and bend across my desk. I intend you show my good colleagues just what a well-whipped boy looks like." His stomach heaving, Fox reached for the button on his thin, worn trousers with shaking fingers. He watched his Master take the dreaded cane down from the wall behind Fox's desk. It was a thick, heavy instrument meant to inflict the maximum sting to unprotected skin. Removing his clothing, Fox stretched out across the desk, his face flaming in shame that the men should see him naked and about to be beaten. He grabbed the edges of the desk and held on tightly. It would not do to try to protect himself form his master's punishment. He had learned quickly that would just earn him more of the devastating strokes. He could hear the other two men in the room snicker as he presented himself for chastisement. It was obvious that they were going to enjoy his undeserved punishment immensely. Suddenly Fox knew what had happened to the ledger. He also knew that he would never find the missing documents. This has all been arranged so that Blevins could strip and whip him in front of his friends. "He's a pretty thing, Scott." One of the men slurred lustfully, making Fox flinch with anxiety. He hoped these men didn't have further plans for him after his caning. He had never done that with a man and he didn't want to start now. "Yes, pretty but worthless. Well, all that's all going to change now, boy. By the time I'm done with you tonight, you'll finish every chore I give you without a word of complaint or a thought of disobedience. Feet further apart, Fox." Fox swallowed hard. His master was out to impress his friends. This was going to be very bad. The switch whistled in the air behind him and Fox clenched the muscles in his buttocks in anticipation of the first cut of the cane. The flexible switch continued to whistle as it cut the air behind him but no blow fell on his exposed and waiting bottom. He relaxed. Without warning a streak of pure fire was painted across his exposed bottom. Fox, who had planned to take the punishment silently, found himself screaming out his distress for all to hear. Blevins paused for a moment as Fox lay squirming across the desk, the scarlet welt across his butt throbbing in time to every beat of his heart, fat tears rolling unencumbered down his smooth cheeks. One stripe and he had forgotten his vow of silence, his shameful nudity, and the other two men who were witnessing his childish reaction to the chastisement. All he was aware of was the sound of the cane cutting the air behind him and his own agonized flesh waiting high in the air for the next lick to fall. Blevins took his time with the tanning of his servant. Had he possessed a conscience, he would have felt badly about the ledger sheets that now resided in his inside coat pocket. He did not, however, suffer from such moral pangs. He cared little for the pretty young man who was suffering so terribly under his hand. The cane rose and fell steadily, each stoke eliciting a cry of agony from Fox and a red, raised welt across his once smooth skin. After a good dozen hard strokes, Fox had stopped screaming, reduced to hysterical and desperate sobbing as his bottom danced wildly to the tune of his master's biting switch. At the strokes of the horrid switch continued, Fox was all but unconscious, his body jerking involuntarily at each new lash, his bottom and thighs nothing more than a mass of red, raw welts. "Perhaps that is enough, Master Blevins," One of the watching men said worriedly. "After all, you did promise us that we could sample his considerable charms. That won't be as enjoyable if the pretty has been beaten senseless and doesn't even know what is happening to him." "That's right," the other man chuckled evilly. "Every boy should have the opportunity to remember the first time he takes a big, hard cock up his tight ass." "I'll be the judge of when he has been punished enough," Blevins panted as he brought the cane down yet again on the tortured flesh upturned to him. "Perhaps you should reconsider that decision, merchant." The three men turned to see a tall, broad-chested man, dressed in black standing in the now open door. From the plumed hat atop his head to the shine of his well-polished boots, to the mask that covered his face – all were black. The man looked lethally dangerous and made no attempt to hide that fact from the stunned men who now faced his raised sword. The newcomer's angry eyes fell to the dazed boy who now lay all but unmoving across the desk. "Do you enjoy whipping and raping children, merchant?" "He's hardly a child," Blevins sputtered. "He was well past his twentieth year when his papers were sold to me these three years past." "Do you dare to lie to me, merchant." The man raised his sword until it resting just a few inches from Blevins' throat. "He looks not much past his sixteenth year." "No! I'm not lying! He was an overly young face but he is well into his manhood. He is my indentured servant, sir, and in desperate need of my guidance. You need not concern yourself. I have things well in hand here." The black-clad man glanced once again at the sleeping face of the tortured young man. "So you do, it would seem." Without warning, the man whisked off his black hat with such a theatrical flare that the very act caused the other three men to recoil in terror. "It seems I have forgotten my manners, merchant. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Captain Walter Skinner. Perhaps you have heard of me or my ship, La Chauve Terreur?" He stopped as the three men gaped at him in undisguised horror. "Ah, I see that my reputation has indeed preceded me. Good. That will make what must happen next easier for you to understand and accept." The man replaced his hat and let out an ear-shattering whistle. Before the three captive men could blink, the room was filled with the most scruffy and blood-thirsty band of pirates they had ever had the misfortune to lay their eyes upon. When they were well and truly surrounded with at lest two dozen swords pointed at their throats, Skinner finally lowered his own weapon. "My good men, these fat merchants have been so kind as to open their counting house for us this fine morning. Relieve it of all of value." Blevins opened his mouth to protest, but then wisely thought better of it. "Blackson," the captain ordered, gaining the attention of a tall man with a red scarf tied rakishly across one eye. "Yes, captain." "Wrap the injured boy in a blanket and hand him to me. He will be accompanying us on our voyage. I feel assured he will fare better with our little band of pirates than with these esteemed civic leaders." "I can have the men carry him aboard for you, Captain Skinner." "No," Skinner looked once more at the handsome young man. "I will take him to my cabin personally. I think it has already been a long day for this particular young man. I don't want him to awaken and find himself being hauled onto a ship by a band of motley pirates." "You can't have him," Blevins screamed. "I paid good money for him. He belongs to me for four more years." Skinner raised his sword once more, the sharp point pricking a small cut on Blevins' fat chin. "Have you been beating and raping him for three years already?" ‘No. No, I . . .I . . .well, of course I must discipline him but I haven't . . ." "You haven't raped him? Why?" "The business belongs to my wife's father. If he had found out about any dalliance with the boy, he would have relieved me of my position. He died yesterday." "How convenient for you." Skinner turned to his men. Strip them, and bloody their backsides, waist to knees, with that cane." He looked at the three men, whose faces were now drained of all color. "When they have been properly whipped, tie them to the stocks at the center of town, naked and marked. Let the good people see just what happens to men who take advantage of their wealth and power over those younger and less fortunate than themselves." The pirates made quick work of their task, the three rich merchants struggling uselessly as they were stripped of their fine clothing. "You can't do this!" Blevins shrieked as he was being dragged across the room to take his place bent across his own desk. His clothing now lying in rags at his feet. The pirate captain held out his massive arms as the still unconscious young man was placed gently in his arms. Skinner frowned when he saw how little his burden weighted. "Have you been starving him as well as whipping him, merchant?" "I was but thrifty with my investment. A boy like that can eat his weight in costly food if but given the chance. I made sure that I got my money's worth with the least amount of expense. Surely you understand that is only good business?" "I understand the most vile cruelty when I see it. Whip them!" He watched as the three men screamed and withered in agony as the cane came down in lightening-quick strikes on their exposed and rapidly scorching flesh. They barely had time to shriek their distress between each excruciating stroke of the deadly switch. "Don't spare that rod, men. I'll see you back on board. We set sail before the dawn breaks." The captain turned on his heel and carried his beautiful new cabin boy aboard his well-armed pirate ship. Fox awakened some time later to the gentle, soothing rock of a ship at sea, and the most amazing pair of deep, brown eyes he had ever seen. "How do you feel, little one?" Mulder was lying face down on a soft, clean bed. He squirmed a little, and his backside exploded in pain. "Ouch!" The pirate captain laughed, causing fine lines to appear around his eyes. Surprisingly, they made him look years younger. He rubbed gentle circles on the young man's bare back. "You belong to me now, my beauty. From now on, no one will punish you except me." Mulder swallowed hard, wondering just what belonging to this man would entail. Then wondering if he really cared. "All . . .all right." "You are my new cabin boy. You will sleep here with me, and you will follow my orders without question. I have grown quite infatuated with as I watched you sleeping but you must not let that effect your performance of duties. I can be a hard task master and the penalty for disobedience will be swift and painful, and delivered to a part of your body that is feeling most ill-used at the moment. Do you understand, my boy?" Fox nodded his head, his throat too dry to form words. "Have you ever had sex with a man?" This time a shake of the dark head, and a fearful widening of hazel eyes. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I won't hurt you more than is necessary, and in time, I'm sure you will even come to crave servicing my needs in such a way. There are worse lives than that of a pirate captain's cherished cabin boy. Tell me, boy, how old are you?" "Tw . . .twenty-three, sir." "Well, so he wasn't lying. I wouldn't have believed it." "I hear that quite often, sir." "I'm sure you do. I want you to rest now, Fox. I've put some healing ointment on your backside and it should be feeling much better by the time you awaken from your nap. I've had some food brought in for you." The captain felt another wave of anger as he saw Fox's expressive eyes fly to the tray and eye the food hungrily. He thought about going back ashore to further deal with that fat merchant himself. "After you have eaten and rested, I expect you are to stay in this cabin unless I give you my permission to come above. In time, you will be given more freedom on the ship, but for now I want you to become accustomed to the crew, and them to you, before you go roaming around by yourself." Fox gave the captain a long slow blink, not really sure why the crew needed to become accustomed to him, but then nodded his head in acceptance. After all, what could be worse than another four years of that bleak counting house and Master Blevins? At least now he was out to sea. The End - Chapter One Chapter Two "You're very beautiful, cabin boy." Mulder blinked to clear the sleep from his eyes. This was his fourth day aboard the Chauve Terreur and the first that he had awakened feeling no pain. Actually he felt really good. The captain was not only smiling down at him, and his big hand was under the blankets and . . .well, leave it to say, at the moment Mulder was feeling very good indeed. Captain Skinner's mouth came down and covered his cabin boy's in a hot, wet kiss. Mulder's whole body tensed, his eyes wide at the strange sensation of another man kissing him. But then, it just felt so good, and it had been so long since anyone had kissed him, and the captain had been so nice to him and was so captivating. The captain pulled the blankets away from Mulder's naked body, his hands and lips moving over every inch of smooth, exposed skin. "You belong to me now, Fox. I well and truly claim you as my own. When we again rise from this bed you will know that you can belong to no one but me." "Are . . .are you . . .is it going to hurt?" "No, my beautiful boy, I am going to love you. Trust me, my sweet, and I will make you feel things you've never felt before." Mulder's senses became overwhelmed with all that was happening with his body. The heady delight of hot wet kisses falling on his lips. The foreign but intoxicating sensation of big, slick fingers invading his body. And then the feeling of fullness as he was taken for the first time. The burn that he hardly had time to acknowledge before the few tears that escaped down his cheeks were being kissed away and he was once more swept up in a sea of incredible passion. He was vaguely aware of his own screams as he found release, and the echo of the captain's cries as he found his own pleasure. Then he was being held. Being held like some precious treasure that the captain valued above all other. Being held, and kissed, and gently caressed until he fell into a sound and satiated sleep. When he woke alone in the bed a few hours later, he was still smiling. * * * Mulder raised his face up toward the sun, rejoicing to the feel of its heat and the wind whipping through his hair. It was difficult to put into thought, much less words, just how wonderful it was to be at sea instead in that dreary, dusty counting house. after Captain Skinner had left the cabin this morning, Mulder had fallen back into a restful sleep. He had risen from his bed to find a meal waiting for him in the cabin. He had just finished eating, when one of the crewmen had come to inform him that he was allowed to go on deck this afternoon, if he chose to do so. He didn't have to be told twice, and nearly knocked the tall, bearded man over as he scrambled to leave the cabin. * * * Captain Skinner strolled down the immaculate deck of the Chauve Terreur. Most pirate ships were dirty, ill-maintained affairs but not the ship of Captain Skinner. Any man who signed on with him knew that he was expected to work just like any other seaman. He would just be paid better. "Mr. Byers," Skinner said as he approached his first mate. "Would you have one of the men locate Fox for me. I would have his company for the a while." To Skinner's surprise, Byers just grimaced sickly and pointed one finger in a skyward direction. Skinner frowned at the man. "My hat?" He raised his hand to check on the black, tricorn that rested securely on his head. Another rueful grimace as John Byers again pointed upward. "What is it, Mr. Byers? Gulls? Have you spotted gulls? Have we drifted off course and are now nearing hostile shores?" "Uh, no sir . . .it's uh, Fox." "Fox? What are you trying to say, man. I don't understand sign language. Speak up!" "Your cabin boy, sir. He's . . .he's up there." Again Byers pointed to the sky but this time Captain Skinner followed the direction of his first mate's finger. His heart nearly stopped when he saw Fox standing in the crow's nest at the very top of the mast. "Merciful heavens! How did he get up there?" "It's only a guess, captain, but I would venture to say he climbed the main sail." "What? Well, get him down!" John rubbed a calloused hand over his bearded chin thoughtfully. "Well, sir, we've been discussing that very thing for the past hour, and truth be told, we're not really sure how to go about that without putting the boy in mortal danger." "He's in mortal danger now! I want him down here and I want him down here this instant!" Skinner shaded his eyes with his right hand as he looked back up the towering heights to where his new cabin boy stood. As he did so, Fox caught sight of him, waved cheerfully, and threw one leg over the edge of the crow's nest preparing to climb back down. "Sweet Mary and Joseph! Fox, no!" Skinner ran to the bottom of the mainsail and began to climb up. "Stay where you are!" "What?" Fox called back down, the whistle of the wind cutting off the captain's words before they got to him. He looked down, somewhat bewildered to see Captain Skinner rapidly climbing the rigging. He shrugged his shoulders and continued downward, perhaps the captain had work to do up here. Best to get out of his way as quickly as possible. "I said stay where you are!" Skinner yelled at the top of his lungs, his heart missing yet another few beats as he saw the young man get one of his feet tangled in the ropes and nearly lose his balance. Mulder finally righted himself, his natural agility and coordination all that saved his life. Skinner allowed himself to breath again as he nimbly climbed the last few feet to where Fox had stopped his descent and was happily standing in the rigging letting the wind blow through his hair. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Skinner growled as he carefully took hold of his cabin boy. "Sorry, sir. I know there must be work for me to do but this is the first time I've been on a ship, and I just had to see what it was like to . . ." "First . . .first . . .first time! You've never climbed a rigging before?" "Well no. I've watched from the little window in the counting house many times as the seamen would repair the sail while in dock. I've always wanted to climb around in those ropes myself." Fox smiled happily at the captain until he realized the big man did not appear to be quite so pleased that Fox had accomplished such an enormous life-long dream. The captain growled as he wrapped one well-muscled arm around Fox's waist and proceeded to back step down the rest of the rigging., his perplexed cabin boy well in tow. Once they had reached the deck, Fox was somewhat surprised to see that most of the crew had stopped work to watch their descent. He looked back at the captain uncertainly. "Go wait for me in my cabin." Skinner said from between gritted teeth, his jaw twitching madly. "But I want to stay on deck, sir. I've been in that cabin for days." Skinner placed a big hand on each of Fox's upper arms and shook him soundly. "You will go to my cabin. Once there, you will lower your pants and stand with your nose in a corner until I have calmed down sufficiently to come deal with you." Mulder's eyes widened as he gave his captain a couple of slow, confused blinks. "Did I do something wrong, sir." He looked up to where the huge sails were flapping in the wind. "I didn't break any of the ropes did I?" "Break the ropes! Of course not! You also didn't break your fool neck, which is unto itself enough of a miracle for one day. Now go to my cabin. Now!" Mulder nearly jumped out of his skin at the sheer volume of Captain Skinner's last order. He heard several of the crewmen snickering behind his back as he bolted for the stairs that led below deck. Mulder was sure he had been standing in this humiliating position for hours. The only corner of the cabin that was free of furniture was the one that was directly across from the door. Anyone who ventured through that portal right now was going to get an eyeful. Mulder squirmed again, feeling a cool draft waft around his bare butt. He still wasn't completely sure what he had done wrong, but there wasn't much doubt in his mind about how he was going to pay for his sins. He tensed as he heard the door open behind him. He didn't dare look around to see what the captain was doing. He just hoped it was the captain. "Tell me the truth, how old are you, Fox?" Mulder rolled his eyes. "I told you I'm twenty-three. I turned twenty-three last month." "Hum, well you look a good five years younger, and get into mischief like a five-year-old. Mind telling me why you climbed up to that crow's nest?" "I wanted to see a mermaid." "Excuse me?" "A mermaid, sir. It's been recorded by countless sailors that they have spotted the strange and erotic creatures. I've heard a hundred such stories, and I wanted to see one for myself. And besides, I like the feel of the wind in my hair." "Well you're not going to like the feel my hand on your butt." "But I can just today sit down again," Fox whined pathetically. "You should have thought about that before you carelessly risked your life." "I didn't think it was dangerous," Fox protested. "I just wanted to see the mermaids, and that seemed like the best place to do it. And I assumed I had duties to perform as your cabin boy so I wasn't going to stay up there very long." "Well you were right on several points, Fox. You do have duties to perform on this ship. I will train you in those responsibilities when I am ready to do so, and not until. Secondly, you are correct in that you won't be able to sit down again any time soon. And, last, but not least, I agree that you need fresh air and sunshine. You're far too pale. Now come over here and get across my knee, I'm going to warm your bottom for you." Mulder turned from the corner to face the captain, his mouth agape. "Over your knee! Like a little kid?" "Act like a five-year-old, get treated like one. Come on, I don't have all day, the captain has duties aboard a ship as well you know." Bottom lip out in a glorious pout, Mulder moved across the room and awkwardly positioned himself across the captain's lap. He shivered as the man ran a big, calloused hand over his exposed backside. This man had seen every inch of his body, and most intimately, just this morning but this was still highly embarrassing. Mulder felt the hand leave his bottom only seconds before it came crashing back down onto his tender skin. ‘Ye-ouch!" Mulder squirmed as the hand landed again and then again. He did manage not to cry out after the shock of the first smack but that big, work-hardened hand stung so badly he felt tears come to his eyes. Skinner looked down at the vivid hand prints that now overlaid the faint marks still visible from the caning that Fox had received from that bastard, Blevins. He really wished the boy had waited a day or two more before getting into trouble. Before this was over, Fox would be wishing the same thing. "Don't you ever," Smack! "Do anything like that again," Smack! "There is danger aboard a ship, Fox," Smack! "You have to be trained in the craft of sailing," Smack! "I promise," Smack! "I'll teach you all you need to know," Smack! "But it isn't going to happen," Smack! "In one day." Smack! Mulder had been trying desperately not to cry out during this punishment. He had taken so much guff for years about how young he looked, and now to be likened to a five-year-old had wounded his male pride mightily. He wiggled and squirmed on the captain's lap, trying without success to move his butt out of path of that blistering hand. Finally, he could take it no more. It felt like someone had doused his butt in oil and set a flame to it. "Ouch! Oh! Please captain, please no more! Ow-w-w-w! I won't do it again, I promise." Captain Skinner ignored his pleas, as well as his tears, as he went about evening up the flaming color he had achieved on the bare bottom turned so up invitingly for his attention. The tortured butt now glowed a fiery red from the top of the rounded buttocks to middle of the long, muscular thighs. The captain finished up by delivering six more solid smacks to the spot where Fox would feel it the most when he sat down, should he be so foolish as to try to sit any time soon. Finally satisfied that his kicking, crying cabin boy had been well and truly punished, Skinner gently patted the scorched skin of Fox's hot bottom. "Sh-h-h-h, don't cry, it's all over now, little boy." "Ow! Don't touch it!" He felt the hand leave his scalded bottom to move down and gently rub through his hair, the other hand resting possessively on the back of his thigh. "The same goes for you, Fox. I want you to go stand in your corner with you hands on top of your head, and think about how to avoid your present predicament in the future. I have something I must check on immediately, but when I return, I'll take you on back on deck with me." Mulder rose without looking at his chastiser, and shuffled miserably over to his corner, his bottom so hot he was sure it was smoldering. Sometime later he noticed that Skinner had left the cabin door wide open, but didn't have the courage to go shut it himself. Better a little public display than another spanking like the one he had just gotten. "Whew! Would you look at that! I don't think I've ever seen an ass that red. Now that's gotta' be hurting something awful. Did you make the big, mean captain mad at you, little cabin boy?" Mulder chanced a look over his shoulder, seeing three men standing in the doorway smirking at him. He sighed and turned back to face his corner. "Leave me alone." "Now why would I want to do that? Name's Tom Colton and these are my friends, Willie and Carter. You should know, I had my eye on sharing the captain's cabin myself. And I will too, as soon as I get rid of you." Considering the present condition of his backside, Mulder had to wonder why anyone would have aspirations to take his place with the captain. "You better go away," Mulder warned. "The captain will be back any minute, and I don't think he'd like to find you talking to me." The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the unmistakable sound of the captain returning could be heard. Colton and his two minions faded into the shadows like the rats they undoubtedly would prove to be. Mulder was surprised to find himself turned and held tightly against the captain's muscular chest. "I don't like doing that to you, Fox, please try to behave in the future like the adult you claim to be." Mulder was mortified to find his eyes filling with fresh tears, ‘I'm sorry I disappointed you, Captain Skinner. I'll do better in the future, I promise." Skinner gently rubbed the back of his cabin boy's soft hair, "I'm sure you will, Fox. You're a smart boy, you've just been locked up in that God-forsaken counting house far too long. You'll soon learn your way around this ship, and know how to avoid the kind of trouble you found for yourself today." "Yes, sir." "All right, pull up your pants, and come with me. You're going to spend the rest of the day on deck as I promised." Not anxious to face the crew, who could have little doubt about what had just transpired in the captain's cabin, Mulder reluctantly followed the captain up the galley stairs and onto the ship's forward deck. The captain escorted Mulder over to the railing, then taking two short pieces of rope from his pocket proceeded to tie his cabin boy's wrists to the ship railing. He looked into a pair of shocked hazel eyes. "At least this way, I'll damned well know where to find you when I want you. Enjoy the wind in your hair, Fox." Skinner delivered one more stinging smack to Fox's sore butt, then walked away to attend to his duties. At first Mulder enjoyed the quiet of the foredeck, the gentle sway of the ship and the beauty of the ocean. But as the afternoon wore on, the sun turned from a warm, gentle companion to a cruel adversary, beating down on his sweating body relentlessly. He soon became light-headed from a combination of thirst and heat. By the time the sun finally dipped below the horizon of the ocean, Mulder was swaying on his feet. When the captain arrived to take him below, he found the young man leaning heavily on the rail, his head lolling on his chest. "What the hell happened to you?" "Wa . . .water." Mulder pleaded. Skinner frowned. "What the hell? Are you thirsty?" Mulder nodded, the world spinning around him. He heard the captain yelling at someone. He hoped it wasn't him because his ears were ringing so loudly he couldn't hear anything except his own heart beat. When the cup of cool water finally touched his lips, Mulder tried to drink it all down in one swallow, whimpering when it was pulled away. "Slow down, you're going to make yourself sick. Drink it slowly. When was the last time you had a drink, Fox." Mulder tried to pull himself together enough to think. He was distracted by the sharp blade of the captain's knife as it cut away the sweaty ropes that help Mulder to the railing all the long afternoon. He felt strong hands wrap around his upper arms. He was glad because he felt his knees go weak, and didn't want to end up flat on his ass in front of the rest of the crew. "Answer me! When was the last time Mr. Colton brought you water?" "Colton?" "Dammit! Colton is a good man, there must have been some kind of misunderstanding about my orders. I'm sorry, Fox. It wasn't my intention to leave you here all these hours without water. Can you walk?" Mulder nodded, taking a step forward just as his knees buckled and he fell heavily into the captain's solid body. Skinner easily swung the younger man up into his arms, and stalked off in the direction of his cabin. "You know, brat, this is becoming a habit with you." Mulder just lay his head against the captain's shoulder and closed his eyes. * * * The days passed pleasantly for the new Cabin Boy of the Chauve Terreur. Captain Skinner taught him the duties of his position aboard ship. When he wasn't busy taking care of the captain's personal needs, he was assigned to help the cook in the galley or assist with the endless mopping and scrubbing that needed to done to keep the ship in good order. He didn't mind the work, most of it was up on deck and as the days went by, Fox's golden skin began to glow with health and vitality. He avoided most of the crew, who either appeared to resent his place in the captain's cabin, or looked at him as if they would like to find out first hand just what the captain found so pleasurable, that he left his cabin whistling each morning. He did, however, manage to make friends with one of the men. Melvin Frohike had risked talking to him one night when he had brought Fox his evening meal. The cabin boy was alone at the time, reattaching missing buttons to the captain's shirts, Skinner having not yet returned for the night. The two had become fast friends. Frohike had started life as a street urchin who had learned the tricks of survival before signing on for the life of a pirate. Fox was sure that some of Frohike's lessons would prove to be invaluable to him sometime in the future. Mulder also became very adept at avoiding Tom Colton and his friends. When the cabin door opened, Mulder looked up from his task of shining the captain's boots. "Good evening, sir, will you be dining in the galley or would you like me to fetch a tray for you?" "Have you already eaten, Fox?" Mulder shrugged his shoulders as he looked back down at the boots he had been attending. The truth of it was that he had gone to the gallery earlier but Colton had been there, and started in on Fox the minute he walked through the door. Although Mulder was not ashamed of his relationship with the captain, it was still new enough to him to cause considerable bouts of heavy blushing. He had quickly decided that a full belly was not worth the price he would have to pay for staying in the galley. "I'm not really hungry, sir." "I don't want you missing meals, brat. You've put on some weight and it looks good on you but it could easily fall away if you stop taking regular meals." "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." Mulder refused to look at the captain, instead opting to appear consumed with his polishing. "Put those boots away, Fox, you've nearly rubbed the very color from the leather. Go to the galley and get a tray, enough for two. You'll be joining my for dinner." Mulder hurried to the galley, suffering the cooks wrath at having to prepare a tray so late in the evening, just managing to avoid a sound box to the ears from the irate little man. Skinner had shed most of his clothing and lay relaxing on his bed, thinking about his pretty cabin boy. He was becoming quite fond of the bright and energetic young man. He now found himself looking forward to taking Fox home for a while. It had been a hard month for both of them, and though he thought Fox was adjusting well, it would still be nice for them to have some time alone together without the responsibilities of the ship with which the captain must contend. "Here you are, sir." Mulder shouldered his way through the heavy door. "I'm afraid it's mutton again tonight but it does smell quite good." "Does it smell better to you now than it did earlier in the galley?" "I . . .uh, no sir." "Want to tell me what was bothering you earlier?" "It was nothing, Captain Skinner, really." Skinner pointed to the floor in front of him. "Take off your clothes and kneel in front of me, Fox." Mulder swallowed hard but did as he was told, his naked body shivering slightly in the cool night air. Skinner reached down and took his chin in his hand, raising his face until their eyes met. "If anyone on this ship touches you, and you don't report it to me immediately, you will share in their punishment. I wouldn't like to see a cat-o-nine-tails laid across your pretty back, Fox, but if there's a good enough reason, I'll do it. Do you understand me, brat?" "Yes . . .yes, sir." Mulder nodded his head adamantly, wanting there to be no doubt in the captain's mind that he wished to avoid any contact with that nasty looking black whip that the first mate wielded so expertly. "Of course I'd have to do the job myself, as Mr. Byers seems to have become quite protective of you." "I don't think so, sir. He seems as formidable as ever, if you ask me." "Hum, well we shall see. Now open you mouth. Since you don't have the sense to feed yourself, I'll do it for you. Hands behind your back and spread your knees further apart. I might as well have a nice view will I partake of my own meal." "This really isn't necessary, sir." Mulder assured, his face flushing to a bright crimson. "It's necessary because I say it's necessary, boy, now open your mouth or I may decide to carry out this little task up on deck. Would you like to dine by moonlight, brat?" "No! I mean, no thank you, this is fine, sir." "I thought you might come to that conclusion." Mulder opened his lips as Skinner pushed a piece of mutton into his waiting mouth. Besides the mutton, there were boiled turnips, which made Mulder grimace with every bite, and even a sweet, ripe orange. Mulder couldn't even imagine from where the captain had gotten that priceless treat. It was delicious, and doubly so when the captain painstakingly licked every drop of spilled juice from his cabin boy's chin. It was no surprise when the captain was once again whistling as he left his cabin the next morning. * * * Mulder awoke to the sound of an explosion. He sat straight up in bed, his eyes nervously tracking around the deserted cabin. Another blast, louder than the first, rocked the ship. Mulder was sure he smelled smoke! Jumping from the bed and dressing in record time, Fox threw open the cabin door just as another explosion erupted. He could hear shouting coming from on deck. He had to go protect the captain! Stumbling his way up the rocking galley stairs, he stuck his head above deck to see men firing the heavy cannons that were mounted on the deck, as the captain stood at the front shouting orders to his crew. Mulder pulled himself onto the shuttering deck, slipping and sliding on the wet wood under his feet as he made his way to his captain. "Who are they, sir? Why are they attacking us?" Skinner turned angry eyes to his troublesome but precious cabin boy. "What the hell are you doing up here? Get below immediately!" "I can help you fight! I can protect you! Are they a band of dastardly pirates, sir?" Even in the heat of battle, Skinner couldn't stop the incredulous expression that came over his face. "No, Fox. We are." "What?" Mulder gave him another one of those slow, befuddled blinks. "We're the pirates, Fox, and we're getting ready to board that rich merchant ship. Now go below before you get hurt." "You can't do that!" One eyebrow rose high over Skinner's right eye. "Can't do what?" "You can't just . . .just attack another ship like this. It isn't right!" "We're pirates, Fox." Skinner said slowly and carefully as he signaled for Byers to take his place. He grabbed Mulder's arm and began to pull him toward the galley stairs. "This is what I do. This is how I obtain gold and treasure so I can pay the crew. This is how I get the wealth I need to feed and clothe pretty little cabin boys." Mulder skidded to an abrupt halt, causing even the stronger Skinner to be forced to stop in his tracks. "You have other cabin boys?" Skinner rolled his eyes heavenward, "Of course not! Just how crazy do you think I am?" He shook Mulder sharply when it looked as if the man was actually thinking about the question. "Don't you dare say a word! Now come on, I don't have time for your foolish questions right now, I have work to do here." "You steal from people?" Skinner shook his head in total exasperation as he pulled the boy down the stairs and pushed him back into his cabin. "Fox, just exactly what did you think when I told you I was a pirate? Just what did you expect we would do while we were at sea?" "Uh, I don't know. Look for buried treasure, rescue damsels in distress maybe." Now both eyebrows were raised above the captain's eyes. "What?" Fox asked defensively, "I've read books, I know all about pirates." "Is that so?" Skinner closed his eyes, and rubbed hard at the bridge of his nose. But when he looked up once more, his cabin boy was till standing in front of him, accusation and disappointment in his wide, hazel eyes. "If you know all about pirates, then you won't be too surprised when this one locks you in his cabin until he's finished plundering that nice, fat merchant ship up there?" "Are . . .are you going to kill them?" "No Fox, I'm going to invite them for tea!" Mulder sighed in relief. "Oh, that's fine then. For a minute there I thought you were . . ." The door slammed so hard that several books fell from the captain's desk. Mulder could hear the man muttering loudly as he made his way back up on deck. Mulder walked over to try the knob, but the door was indeed locked. He lay back down on the bed, listening as the sounds of cannon fire and shouting died down above him. He wondered if Captain Skinner would allow him to join the merchants for tea. Not only was Fox not invited for tea, dinner was delivered by a surly seaman, who advised him to eat every bite as the captain thought Mulder needed to gain some weight and was not in the mood to brook any disobedience on the part of, as the man so kindly put it, his ‘useless' cabin boy. Mulder was already sound asleep before the captain returned to his quarters that night. The cabin boy awoke the next morning with the captain's big body wrapped tightly around him and the feel of a collar around his neck. He tucked at the offending adornment but accomplished little except waking his bed partner, who glared at him menacingly. "Problem, boy?" "I don't like this thing around my neck." "Well I do. There was quite a lot of Turkish treasure on that ship, and I thought this piece was just right for you. It's solid gold, Fox." "It's a dog collar." Skinner laughed, making his cabin boy scowl at him even harder. "I would say it's a slave collar. A harem-boy collar to be precise. I did a lot of thinking about you last night, Fox. I've come to the conclusion that I'll never make a pirate out of you. You have too much damnable conscience to become really blood-thirsty, therefore I'll have to content myself in training you to be my beautiful and willing captive slave." "I thought I was your cabin boy," Mulder pouted, earning himself a big, wet kiss right on the little mole on his right cheek. "Oh you can be that too. I think you've come to like what I do to my cabin boy in this bed every night, don't you, brat?" Mulder blushed as he gave the horrid collar another hard tug. "I like it all right." "I think you like it better than all right," Skinner teased, kissing him again. "Now, this time I'm not going to cane you for coming on deck yesterday. . ." Skinner smiled as his cabin boy's eyes flew to his face in alarm. "But the next time we board a merchant ship you will stay in this cabin. Do you understand me?" Mulder nodded his head slowly, his mouth too dry to speak. "Good. Now, as much as I would love nothing more than to loll away the day with you in this bed, I have work to do." Skinner pulled out a long, thin piece of leather, making Mulder's eyes open even wider as it was attached to his collar. "I still don't trust you not to climb to your death or God only know what else. This will keep you safely by my side while you enjoy all the wind through your hair that you could ever desire." "But captain, sir . . .the crew . . ." "Which is another reason I want you by my side. I don't like the way some of the crew has been looking at you while you crawled around this ship like a monkey loose in his first banana tree." "A monkey, sir? You've actually seen a real monkey?" "Many times, and so will you. When we aren't at sea, we'll be staying at my home. It's beautiful, Fox. I own a whole jungle-island, with a magnificent white house right in the middle. And there's a waterfall where the water is always warm and inviting. You're going to love it there, brat." "It does sound nice." "And it's very well equipped too. A woodshed with a specially built spanking stool, and a huge assortment of leather straps and paddles. Oh, and there's wooden stocks out back and a whipping post. I'm afraid the previous owner was rather hard on his native slaves. I haven't had much need of those things myself, but now that I have you . . ." "You're going to wh . . .whip me?" "Never!" Skinner looked horribly offended that Mulder would even entertain such a notion. "But now that I see just what a handful you can be, well it only stands to reason that you'll need a firm hand. Once you've stood in those stocks for an afternoon with your head and wrists secured, your beautiful, naked body on public display while you await your punishment . . ..well, I think that will be a lesson long remembered, don't you?" "You're looking forward to this!" Mulder accused sullenly. "And I haven't even done anything yet!" "You will." Mulder buried his head in his hands. How could he have ever thought this man actually loved him. He had been a fool, and now he was trapped on board ship with a cruel, and nefarious pirate. All this time he had just been enjoying his time abroad ship, and truth be known, in the captain's bed, when he should have been planning his escape. After the captain had bestowed another long, breath-taking kiss, then taken his leave, Mulder busied himself tidying up the cabin. Finally, wiping tears from his eyes, he came to the only conclusion that he could, he must escape at the first opportunity. He was falling in love with the handsome pirate captain, and that could only lead to heartbreak. Better to leave at the first opportunity and save himself the pain of loving a man who didn't love him back. Heaven only knew, there had been enough of those people in Mulder's life already. This opportunity came a scant two days later. Mulder had spent the day rather pleasantly, sitting on the hatch, his leash tied to the mast beside him. He still didn't like being shackled but it was nice to spend the day above deck watching the ocean drift by as the wind gently caressed his face. The captain had even loaned him a book on navigation that he found fascinatefter mid-meal the captain had taken him to his cabin and had slow sweet sex with him, just like the man actually loved him or something. Then he had followed the captain around the ship, enthralled by the sense of unquestionable authority and vigor that was such a natural part of the captain of the Chauve Terreur. Suddenly the crew member assigned to look-out in Mulder's coveted crow's nest, yelled out a warning of an approaching ship. Mulder felt his leash being tugged as the captain began to pull him back toward the stairs that led to the cabins below. "Please, sir, let me stay here and . . .and watch." ‘No, you could get hurt. Don't argue with me, boy." Mulder said nothing more, allowing himself to be locked into the captain's cabin. He waited until he heard the sound of cannon fire and shouting from above, then pulled a piece of misshapen wire from his pocket. One of the many lessons that have been bestowed on the young cabin boy by Melvin Frohike was the ability to pick a lock, any lock. A very useful skill to say the least. As the door opened quickly under his expertly tutored hands, Mulder went flying up the stairs to the deck above. He spotted the ship that was now under attack. A heavily laden merchant craft, just barely holding its own against the more abundant and expertly-manned guns of the pirate ship. Mulder dove for the rail, planning to throw himself overboard and swim to the other ship. How he then planned to rescue the merchant ship from the pirates hadn't really been worked out, but he was sure something would come to mind once he was safely aboard the other ship. As soon as he reached the side of the ship closest to his goal, one of the merchant ship's cannon balls got in a lucky shot, taking out a good portion of the railing directly in front of Mulder with a deafening blast and a deadly hail of splintered wood. A crewman named Ringo Langly, who had long blond hair and a penchant for taking advantage of any opportunity that presented itself, managed to snag Fox's waist just in time to pull him away from his immanent death. He kept the cabin boy pinned safely under his own body until the pieces of burning wood had stopped falling from the sky, thereby earning himself the undying gratitude of his captain and an extra share of the treasure garnered from that day's considerable haul. Ringo thought it all well worth the few burns he had gotten on his back. He had little doubt that someday the debt owed him by Captain Skinner would come in most handy. When Mulder could finally extricate himself from under his self-appointed savior, he painfully opened his smoke-filled eyes to the furious face of Captain Walter Skinner standing above him. "Are you hurt, brat?" "N . . .no." "Langly, take him below and tie him to my bed. I'll deal with him later." The End Chapter 2 Chapter 3 "Langly, take him below and tie him to my bed. I'll deal with him later." * * * Mulder pulled at the ropes that now held him spread-eagled to the captain's bed as fat tears ran down his smooth cheeks. He told himself that it was only the soot and smoke from this afternoon's confrontation with the other ship, he didn't really care that he had disappointed Captain Skinner. So deep in his own misery, he nearly jumped out of his skin when the cabin door opened with a resounding crash against the back wall. Captain Skinner's face was a most unhealthy shade of red as he surveyed his helplessly bound cabin boy. "What the hell were you trying to do up there?" Mulder swallowed hard but didn't let his gaze falter from the captain's eyes. "I was trying to escape." "You were trying to escape by jumping onto a sinking ship? Why in hell would you do a fool thing like that?" "It's my duty to escape?" "Your duty lies with me, brat." The captain's eyes became even more dark and dangerous. "No! I was a fool to think you would treat me kindly. I have to escape from this pirate ship before you decide to kill me." Mulder wanted his voice to sound equally dangerous to the captain's, but even to his own ears, he just sounded heartbroken. Captain Skinner sat down on the edge of the bunk, slowly rubbing a hand up and down Mulder's thigh. "What have I done to you that has been unkind?" "You . . .you put this collar around my neck. And when we get to your island you're going to whip me, and . . ." Mulder hesitated and gasped for breath as the captain's roaming hand moved up to stroke and then squeeze his cock through his trousers. Skinner couldn't help the satisfaction he felt at the boy's immediate response to his touch. "Brat, if I haven't whipped you yet, it's fair to say it's not going to happen. Surly you've shown me the worst side of yourself while you've been aboard my ship." "I wouldn't count on that, sir." Mulder assured as he sighed in either relief or disappointment as the captain released his swelling cock and rose from the bed. "I see." Skinner turned his back on Fox, lest the boy see the smile that was playing at his lips. "I suppose it will do little good to tell you that I have no intention of marring that beautiful skin of yours with my whip. It seems that we shall just have to let events take their course. Only time will prove to you the truth of my words." Skinner turned back to look at his nettlesome charge, splayed out on his bed like some beautiful and willing trollop, his pants bulging with the impressive erection that the captain's slight touch had produced. "Of course, I cannot allow your actions this afternoon to go unpunished. Mr. Langly is at this very moment having his injuries attended by, Dr. Pendril, our ship's surgeon. Wounds that he would not have gotten had it not been for your foolhardy and ill-planned little escape attempt. An attempt which will heretofore cost you a great deal of your previous freedom, I might add. I have no desire to lose you just yet, cabin boy." "What . . .what are you going to . . .to do to me?" Skinner turned away, once again pretending to study the many maps lying on top of his desk, not wanting the boy's beauty and current wanton display to distract him from his duty. "I haven't decided you fate as of yet, but you may rest assured that it shall be carried out before the sun sets today." Skinner walked swiftly to the cabin door, leaving without another word or even a backward glance at his trembling cabin boy. As the afternoon wore on, Mulder was certain that the captain would return to find nothing left but his rotting corpse. He tried to shift his weight to alleviate some of the stiffness and cramping in the muscles of his widely stretched arms and legs, but he was tied to the bed too securely to find any relief. When he was sure that any minute he was going to just start screaming, the door to the cabin opened slowly and Frohike entered the cabin. "The captain has asked me to bring you on deck, Fox." Frohike said. The little man refused to look at his young friend's face as he began to loosen the ropes that held Mulder to the bed. "What's wrong, Frohike? Why does he want me above?" "Just come with me, Fox. I'm already in trouble. I think the captain suspects that I let you out of the cabin during that first attack. He hasn't said as much, but I can tell by the way he looks at me, and now he's sent me down here to fetch you. I can't take any chances, so just keep your questions to yourself and come with me quickly. It will all be over soon." "What will all be over quickly?" Mulder pleaded in a near panicked voice, but Frohike said nothing more, increasing Mulder's unease a thousand fold. Mulder found himself unable to draw a deep breath as he allowed his friend to lead him up the steps and onto the deck. He stopped abruptly as he saw that a large wooden barrel was lying on it's side and had been lashed to the deck with sturdy ropes. The entire crew was standing around this barrel, the captain in the forefront, looking grim and determined. "Cabin Boy Mulder, you are accused of insubordination to your captain and causing injury to a fellow crewman. Do you have anything to say for yourself before your sentence is delivered?" Mulder tried to speak but all that came out was a dry croak, he opted instead to just shake his head. He saw several of the crewmen, including Tom Colton, smirking at him gleefully. "You are hereby sentenced to twelve lashes for your crimes against this ship and it's crew. Sentence to be carried out immediately." Mulder felt his knees go weak as Frohike's hand settled on his arm, propelling him towards where his captain stood. "In view of your tender age and inexperience at sea, you will receive all twelve lashes, not on your naked back as is customary in instances such as this, but on your bare rump. Mr. Frohike, you will prepare Fox for his punishment." Mulder's mind had gone completely numb as he saw the group of seamen part to allow Frohike to lead him to the waiting barrel. His hands were tied in front of him, he was then bent across the wooden cylinder until his feet left the deck on one side and his hair brushed the rough flooring on the other. His legs were spread and tied to the ropes securing the barrel to the deck. Mulder closed his eyes tightly as he felt hands at the waist of his trousers which were quickly pulled down to his knees, his shirt pushed up high on his back. Thus leaving him upended, fully exposed to the entire crew. His face flaming with humiliation, Mulder couldn't help but look up over his shoulder to see his own bare bottom high in the air, the crew gathered closely around to better watch his chastisement. He quickly lowered his head and again closed his eyes as he saw the captain move behind his defenseless backside. Mr. Byers moved forward, reluctantly handing the cat-o-nine-tails to his captain. "Sir?" "No, Mr. Byers, I shan't need that." Skinner hands went to be own pants, swiftly removing the thick, black leather belt that he always wore. "Twelve of the best, Fox, prepare yourself." The muscles of Mulder's bare backside clenched tightly in anticipation of the first blow. It came without hesitation, slamming down on the tightly stretched, tender skin with a loud crack, leaving a wide, red stripe of pure fire across the once pristine globes. "Ah-h-h-h-h!" Mulder screamed as he heard a detached voice call from somewhere behind him. "One." Again the heavy belt descended on its hapless target. Once again the cabin boy cried out his distress, only to be met with that same emotionless voice announcing, "Two." He realized sadly that it was his friend, Frohike, who was being forced to count his strokes. Mulder was sure he had never felt such pain as was being imparted by the captain's belt. Well, actually Mr. Blevin's cane had hurt more but the public humiliation of this strapping certainly added to the total effect of the punishment. In the farthest recesses of his mind, Fox knew that his bottom was putting on quite a performance, dancing merrily over the barrel, as Frohike called out the number of each blistering stripe. "Ouch-h-h-h-h!" "Four." "No-o-o-o-o!" "Six." "Ah-h-h-h-h-h! Oh! Oh!" "Nine." The barrel rattled against the deck as it's rider wriggled and squirmed in anguish, pulling madly at his restraints, desperate to protect his bare, burning bottom from the relentless leather belt. "No-o-o-o-o! Oh! Ouch-h-h-h-h!" "Ten." "Ah-h-h-h-h!" "Eleven." Mulder's entire backside and the very top of his thighs were alight with white, hot pain. He was sure there was not an inch of his shamefully exhibited butt that was not now nothing but bleeding, flayed flesh. "Oh-h-h-h-h No-o-o-o-o! Owh-h-h-h!" "Twelve." Mulder screamed once more, his voice seeming to echo in the quite afternoon air. Skinner looked down at his handy-work. His precious cabin boy's once white bottom now glowed a bright, crimson red as his buttocks spontaneously flexed and relaxed with the burning sting the strap had so deftly imparted. Captain Skinner knew it would be some time before the sobbing young man's blistered backside ceased its desperate dance of pain over the barrel. "Fox will remain in his present disgraceful condition until sundown. I want everyone on this ship to have adequate time to see exactly what happens to members of this crew who disregard my orders, no matter what their status aboard this ship." The men quickly went back to work, most of them finding something pressing to do on deck, giving them ample opportunity to enjoy the view of the beautiful young man who lay with his bare, red bottom helplessly turned up to the sky. His bound hands rubbing angrily at his incessant tears. Tom Colton found more than one opportunity to sneak close enough to the well-punished man to add a few well-placed jabs to his misery. "You really know how to piss the captain off, don't you, little cabin boy?" "Leave me ‘lone." Mulder mumbled, his nose pressed against the deck. "How long do you think it will be before Captain Skinner grows tried of your antics, and just throws you to the sharks?" Mulder said nothing, but Colton smiled as he saw the pretty, young man's body flinch at his words. "Have you ever seen a man torn apart by sharks, Fox? It's enough to turn a man's blood to ice. It'll be a horrible way to die, little boy." Mulder could not stop the shivers that continued to run through his body long after Colton had grown tired of his verbal attacks. The lanterns were just being lit as Skinner came back to claim his repentant young cabin boy. "Are you ready to be released, Fox?" "Yes, sir. Please, sir." "Have you had time to adequately consider your actions of earlier today?" "Yes, sir." "Do you now understand that you belong to me, and any attempts on your part to escape will be met with a swift and very painful response on my part?" Mulder's shoulders hitched as he swallowed a sob, "I understand, sir. I won't try to escape again." Skinner untied his cabin boy, pulling him to his feet and pulling his trousers gently over his abused backside. Mulder hissed even at this most careful of touches. He yelped again as he was abruptly lifted into the captain's strong arms. "I can walk, sir!" "Like I said, this has become a habit." Skinner smiled as he moved swiftly to the stairs with his precious burden. He lay Mulder face down on his bed, carefully removing the cabin boy's shirt and pants. He shook his head sadly at the still glowing and obviously painful butt that now met his gaze. Mulder, lost in his own world of exhaustion and pain, yelped as a big, gentle hand began smoothing ointment over the blistered skin of his abused backside. "Sh-h-h-h, I know its sore but this will help take some of the sting out. I think you've suffered enough for your sins for one day." Mulder berated himself as he felt his eyes again fill with hot tears. Twenty-three years old and still crying like a baby over a sorely spanked bottom. Skinner rubbed one hand in slow, soothing circles between Mulder's tensed shoulder blades. "It's all right to cry, Fox. I won't think less of you for it. Get it all out and then we can get on with our life together. "It . . .it just hurts so much." Mulder sobbed, earning himself a kiss to his tear-stained cheek. "I know. And I know it was embarrassing to you that the crew was allowed to watch as you received your strapping, but discipline must be maintained on a ship while out to sea, Fox, even for you. I had little choice in the matter without seriously risking my authority as the captain of the Chauve Terreur." "What does it mean?" "What does what mean, Fox? Surely you understand the term 'maintaining discipline' even if you don't subscribe to it." "No, what does Chauve Terreur mean?" Skinner chuckled, surprising the young man being soothed under his big, rough hands. "It means ‘The Bald Terror'. I once had a very good friend who thought it the greatest of jokes. I miss him still." "Who was he?" Skinner patted Mulder's sore bottom just a little too hard for the cabin boy's liking and rose from the bed, "You are a nosy thing, aren't you, brat? Well, you'll get no more information from me tonight. Now rest a little while and I'll bring you some dinner," The captain raised a quelling hand as Mulder opened his mouth to protest. "And I don't want to hear one about your not being hungry. I can see I've been too soft on your thus far. It's time I got a little tougher with you." Mulder's eyes opened wide in astonished horror. "Too . . .too soft?" Skinner chuckled again, "You are adorable, cabin boy, it's no wonder I let you get away with so much. Now rest." * * * Skinner watched as his cabin boy sat on the forward hatch, reading a book about mermaids that he had borrowed from Frohike, of all people. The captain was worried about his pretty brat. It had been over a week since he had been strapped while lying over that barrel on the deck, and since that fateful day Fox had been the perfect cabin boy. Attentive to his captain's needs, obedient to his every command, never speaking unless spoken to. Skinner hated it. He wanted his other Fox back. The bright, amusing one who was always getting into trouble, and bringing a smile to his captain's face. Oh this Fox still melted in his arms every night, although the captain sensed his cabin boy berated himself soundly for his own body's weakness later, but there was a distance between them now that could not be breeched. And also, for some unknown reason, Fox had become obsessed with sharks. He was certain that Skinner was going to throw him the side of the ship and that he would be eaten by sharks. No matter how much the captain tried to reassure him, Fox remained convinced that his destiny lie as shark bait instead of bed warmer. It was most exasperating. The captain's attention turned to where Tom Colton sat mending some sail, his eyes more on Fox than on his work. Skinner remembered a brief conversation he'd had with Fox two days after the strapping incident on deck. Skinner had been trying desperately to give his wounded cabin boy as much attention and affection as possible. He knew the public punishment had not only hurt Fox's body but his tender heart as well. "Tom Colton was telling me some things that . . ." "Good! I'm glad to see you making friends with Tom. He's a fine young man, you'd do well to listen carefully to whatever Tom has to say. He's been with me for two years now, and knows the ways of this ship and it's crew inside and out. He's seldom wrong in his observations." Skinner frowned at Fox as the color drained from the young man's face. "Does he know you so well?" Skinner had chuckled, "Yes, I'd say Tom knows me well enough to predict just how I'll react in certain situations. It's a valuable trait for a seaman." He placed an arm around Fox's trembling shoulders as he pulled him in into his chest for a hug. "Of course, he doesn't know me in the biblical sense that you do, brat." Looking back on the conversation, he realized that Fox had looked decidedly unsettled afterward, and had drawn even more into himself, becoming quieter as the days passed. And now Tom Colton was watching the cabin boy much like Old Henry, the tomcat Skinner's mother had kept in their barn, had watched a mouse just before he pounced with deadly intent. Surely Fox hadn't given the clever, reliable Tom any reason for reprisal against him. The captain had just about decided to go have a talk with Tom when his thoughts were interrupted by his first mate. "Sir, it would appear we're in for some bad weather. The man in the crow's nest reports that the clouds we have been watching all morning have darkened and are now moving quickly in our direction." "Very well, Mr. Byers. Batten down and prepare the crew for bad weather. I'm going to take Fox down below to ride out this one. There'll plenty of time for him to get his storm legs some other day, this is too soon." "Are you worried about him too, captain." John said with a note of compassion in his voice. "Also? Have you found reason to be concerned about Fox, John?" "Well he isn't the overly-excited young man that we rescued just a few weeks ago, sir. I fear there have been some gross misunderstandings that need to be cleared up between the two of you." Skinner glanced over to where Fox had risen and was staring with undisguised curiosity at the gathering storm. "I think you're right as usual, Mr. Byers. Once we pass through this storm, I'd like you to set a course for home." Byers smiled happily as he all but saluted his captain. He was most anxious to get back to the island and home to his wife, Suzanne. It had been far too long. Mulder looked over at the captain as he approached, "I want you to go to my cabin now, Fox. You don't have enough experience to be of any help to us and I don't want you hurt." Mulder started to protest that if he had to stay in the cabin for every incident that happened, he would never gain any experience but then he just closed his mouth, a resigned look on his face. He untied his own leash from the mast, and moved down to where Skinner was standing. They walked together across the deck, which was already beginning to heave with the rougher waters caused by the impending storm, and made their way below deck. When they reached the cabin, the captain turned Mulder and gently removed the collar from around his neck. The cabin boy rubbed at his now barren throat as if the collar had been made of the iron instead of the lightest gold. He found himself turned again, this time to face the captain. "It isn't my wish to make you unhappy, Fox. I hope you'll believe that enough to tell what's bothering you some day soon." "Thank you, sir." Mulder said still rubbing at this throat, his eyes glued to his own feet. "Fox, it's very important that you stay here in the cabin until the storm has passed. Many a good and well-seasoned sailor has lost his life to a storm at sea. There's nothing more dangerous. Do I have your promise that you'll stay here, so I can keep my mind on my responsibilities?" Mulder glanced up into the captain's deep brown eyes. He had never considered that his own actions could distract the captain and perhaps endanger his own life. "Yes sir. I'll wait here until you return." Skinner smiled warmly, bestowing a quick but loving kiss on Fox's lush lips. "In that case, I look forward to my return with a joyful heart. You are most pleasant to come home to, beautiful Fox." Mulder blushed as the captain turned to hurry out of the cabin. They could both hear the sounds of the storm as it battered the ship from all sides. Mulder had never been on a ship during a storm. It was at one and the same time the most exciting and the most horrifying experience of his entire life. He could feel the ship shudder as if it would come apart at the seams, while the ocean roared around them, pounding the deck above. Suddenly the door was flung open. Mulder look in alarm as a wild-eyed Tom Colton stood dripping on the floor. "The captain wants to come up on deck right now!" Mulder shook his head at this man that he didn't trust. "But Captain Skinner told me to stay here until he came back. I'm not leaving." "Listen you fool, the ship is going down. Skinner wants you up on deck with him so that he can save your worthless hide. As far as I'm concerned you can stay down here and drown with the rats." As Colton turned to leave, Mulder made a quick decision. "I'm coming with you." "How generous of you, cabin boy. Well come on, we haven't got all day you know." Mulder ran from the cabin and up on deck. He could hear Colton's footsteps as he came pounding up after him. The minute Mulder stepped on the slick, sea-swept deck he spotted the captain, struggling with the wheel as he fought the storm for control of his ship. Mulder started toward the captain, when he felt a sharp shove to the center of his back. As he lost his balance on the slippery deck, his head hit the ship's railing with a loud crack, he felt himself falling for an ridiculously long distance, and then everything went black. Skinner looked up just in time to see Fox go over the side of the ship, Tom Colton with his arms stretched outward appearing to be trying desperately to catch the young cabin boy before he fell. Like all experienced seamen, Skinner had taken a long coil of heavy rope and lashed himself to his wheel. He quickly untied the end of the rope from the ship and sprinted to where he had seen Fox go overboard. Without further thought, he threw himself into the raging ocean, determined to rescue his beloved cabin boy. John Byers, always quick of thought and action, grabbed the end of the rope, the rough hemp flaying the skin from the palms of his hands as he desperately held on to the only lifeline to his captain. Several other crewmen joined the first mate in pulling on the rope, finally succeeding in their attempts to tie it off to the heavy main mast. In the meantime, Langly had quickly manned the wheel, keeping the ship pointed bow-first into the blustering storm. Skinner had no thought as to how he would survive the deadly swell of the ocean, or how he would ever get back to his ship. He cared only about finding Fox. He dove under the waves again and again, his chest aching as his breath came in harsh gasps, his eyes stinging from the churning salt water that filled them. He felt panic begin rise up in him just as his foot touched something just under the surface of the water. He dove once more, this time coming up with his coveted prize. The lifeless body of Fox Mulder. Skinner wrapped one massive arm around Fox's throat, pulling him back against his own chest, determined to keep his cabin boy's head well above water. His eyes burned as he frantically looked around, he couldn't locate the ship in the heavy swells of the waves that surrounded him on all sides. "Please God, don't take him away from me." As if in answer to his prayers, Skinner felt a mighty tug on the rope that was still tied around his waist. He kept his own mouth tightly closed as he held on for dear life to his cabin boy's limp body. He felt himself being dragged through the water and what he vehemently hoped was back to his ship. It seemed he had been in the water for hours, when his eyes finally cleared enough to see that he was within sight of The Chauve Terreur. It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. He readjusted his grip on his precious burden, then closed his eyes, knowing he too exhausted to be of much help to his crew in hauling the two of them up to safety. Once on deck, Skinner fell to his knees, Mulder falling hard to the deck in front of him. The captain immediately leaned over, placing his head on Mulder's chest, relieved beyond words to hear the steady beat of the young man's heart. He may look like a well-drowned rat, but he was alive! "Take him to my cabin, and get Dr. Pendrel to look him over. I'll be there shortly." As Mulder was swiftly carried below, Skinner grabbed Byers in a fierce hug, unaware of the man's wince of pain. "Thank you, John." The first mate nodded his understanding, then turned back to where Ringo Langly still battled the wheel as the ship continued to plow it's way through the stormy seas. Dr. Pendrel had pronounced Mulder to be little more than waterlogged and suffering from cold and shock. The doctor covered the young man with a large pile of warm blankets, telling Skinner he would probably sleep for several hours. After checking over his protesting captain, Pendrel told the man he could return to his command, should he desire to do so. Much to the ship surgeon's surprise, Skinner refused to leave Mulder's side. Saying only that he trusted Mr. Byers and his crew to see them through their peril. Many hours later, when they were again sailing in calm seas, Skinner emerged from his cabin. He thanked each member of his exhausted crew, and ordered a tankard of rum to be served to each man with the evening's meal. He then set a slow steady course that would need little more than his own attention for the night. He turned to where Tom Colton stood. "Tom, I saw what you did." "Wh . . .what?" "I saw you try to catch Fox before he fell overboard. I have no idea what he was doing on deck, but I want you to know that I appreciate your efforts to save him, even if they didn't succeed." "Oh, well . . .it was nothing, sir. It's my pleasure to be of service to you." Tom said, smiling broadly. His smile quickly faded as he looked up to see Byers, Langly and Frohike watching him with unmistakably suspicious expressions on their grim faces. The End Part Three END 1/3The Cabin Boy - Part 2/4 By: DiAnn Mulder resurfaced to the feeling of a gentle hand running lovingly through his hair. He slowly opened his eyes. "Welcome back," Captain Skinner whispered, a look of such sheer relief across his face that it almost took Mulder's breath away. "Where . . .we?" Mulder croaked. "Sh-h-h-h-h, don't try to talk. You swallowed some salt water. Your voice will be better in a day or two." "Y . . .you too?" "Yes, I swallowed a little myself," the captain rasped as he continued to run his hand through Fox's soft hair. "Boat . . .sink?" Skinner chuckled. "No, we're still afloat. Is that why you came above during the storm? Did you think we were in danger of going down?" Mulder nodded, "Wanted . . .save you." A confused look came over his face, "There was someone here . . . he said . . ." Mulder rubbed a hand over his eyes, hoping it would help clear his mind as well as his vision. "I just can't seem to remember." The captain kissed him tenderly, "It's all right, don't worry about it right now. We didn't sink and we're both safe, that's all that matters. Go back to sleep, cabin boy." The next time Fox awakened it was to the feel of the captain's warm body wrapped securely around his own, and the heavenly smell of food drifting from a tray by the bed. Mulder inhaled again, sighing contentedly. Food had always been a driving force with him. There had never been enough of it, even before his father was murdered and his family destroyed. And after three years of Mr. Blevins' lessons in frugality, well it was enough to say that Mulder appreciated his every meal. Being strong and in the best health of his young life, thanks to adequate food and an abundance of fresh air, it took only two days for Mulder to recover enough from his ordeal to wheedle an afternoon on deck out of his overly-protective captain. Mulder never felt more alive than when he was on the deck of the ship, the wind and sun caressing his body and soothing his mind. He was sitting with Frohike, both of them leaning comfortably back against some crates, while the man told the cabin boy a tall tale about a petty thief he had once known who could stretch his body to slip through the smallest of openings. It was a totally outrageous story, and Mulder loved every word of it. Suddenly a shadow fell across the two men. They both looked up to see their captain staring down at them. "You know," Skinner stared pointedly at older pirate. "I do make it a rule that the members of my crew at least contribute enough work to earn the bread I put in their mouths." "Ye . . .yes, sir!" Frohike scrambled to his feet, now more than eager to get back to his assignment. Skinner's face softened somewhat as he looked down at his cabin boy. Fox was staring back at him as if the captain had just solved all the mysteries of the universe. "And how about you, brat, are you well rested?" Mulder attempted to jump to his feet, cursing his own weakness as a shocked Skinner had to help him to stand. "I . . .I really should be down below polishing you boots, sir." "Fox . . ." "And I know you like fresh linen on the bed, and . . ." "That really won't be . . ." Skinner watched as Fox backed away from him fearfully. "And the cabin could use a good airing, and . . ." "Fox?" Skinner could only stand bewildered as his cabin boy all but bolted for the stairs that led below. "A most ususal young man," he muttered to himself before turning back to his own duties. Fox sat propped against the bed as he polished diligently on his captain's high, black boots. He had once more played the fool. Of course the captain would be concerned about the amount of food that was consumed on his ship. Food cost money. Mulder knew that. Had always known that. Tears stung his eyes. Captain Skinner must think him the most glutenous of men, not to mention lazy and thick-headed. It was a wonder he hadn't been thrown to those sharks already. Well, never let it be said that Christeena Mulder raised a fool. From now on Fox would remember his station in life and act accordingly. A few days later, Skinner lay in his bed, a lazy hand running over the smooth, satiny skin of his enchantingly beautiful cabin boy. He was totally satisfied, both carnally and with his life in general, and it was all because of the luscious boy who now lay next to him. He couldn't resist stealing another kiss from those soft, sweet lips. He smiled as he pulled away, sighing contentedly as he snuggled closer to his most cherished possession. As he lay drowsily listening to the strong, rhythmical beat of Fox's heart, he remember something he had been meaning to ask. "Fox?" "Yes, sir." "The galley cook has informed me that you are eating one meal a day." Skinner felt every muscle in the boy's body go rigid as he lay like stone in the captain's arms. "Yes. I'm sorry, sir." "Why, Fox?" "I didn't think you'd mind, sir." Skinner bent his elbow, resting his head in his hand so he could look down into the face of his trembling cabin boy. He began to rub slow, soothing circles on Mulder's flat, muscular stomach. "Well, I do mind. I mind a great deal. Are you telling me that a healthy young man of twenty-three requires one meal a day." Mulder swallowed hard, his face the picture of misery as he turned to face his captain. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to take improper advantage. I can cut back. I feel I must warn you however that three days seems to be my limit." Skinner shook his head slightly as he attempted to clear his thoughts. He just wasn't following this. "You limit, Fox?" "I know it should be longer. Mr. Blevins tried to impress that on me time and again, but after three days I tend to get a little wobbly. I passed out once in the counting house. Mr. Blevins beat me severely for it, but I have to tell you, I don't think I could have done anything to change the outcome, even to avoid that cane." "Blevins caned you for fainting? Why did you faint? What are you talking about Fox?" "I'm talking about the food, sir. If I go longer than three days without food, I pass out. I want you to know that so you aren't too disappointed in me." "Disapp . . ." Suddenly the captain's face cleared as realization hit, then a dark cloud of rage obscured the perplexed expression. "That son-of-a-bitch! I'm turning this ship around , I'm . . .I'm going to go back there and kill that bastard! Slowly! Very, very slowly!" Skinner's roar was barely comprehensible, and he immediately regretted his outburst as he saw the look of total terror come over Fox's face. Mulder tried to draw back, to put some distance between himself and the angry captain, but the man had one iron-like arm wrapped around the smaller man's waist. He wasn't going anywhere. "I'm sorry," Mulder pleaded as he wrapped both arms around his head protectively. "I'll . . .I can go longer without eating. I promise I'll try harder." "Fox," Skinner said, fighting to keep his voice soft and calm as he tried to peel Mulder's arms away from his face. "Have I ever hit you?" One wide hazel eye peeked out at him in astonishment. "Okay," Skinner chuckled, let me put that a different way. "Have I ever hit you anywhere but on your well-deserving butt?" "N . . .no." "And I don't plan to start now. You're safe with me, cabin boy, come out from under there." Mulder warily lowered his arms and stared at the captain with huge, anxious eyes. Skinner took a deep breath. "Fox, is this about what I said to Frohike up on deck?" "You were right, sir. A good crew member should earn his keep. I don't think the duties I perform warrant three meals a day. You were kind to allow me that at first but now that I'm more experienced, it only stands to reason that . . ." "Yes, you are more experienced," the captain leered, causing his delectable bed-mate to blush a lovely shade of scarlet. "And if I were to feed you in accordance with what those newly learned skills are worth to me, you would do nothing but sit in the galley with a plate and fork before you." "But, sir . . ." "Just listen a minute, brat. Frohike knew that I didn't mean what I said literally. I don't begrudge my crew their sustenance. Hard working men have to eat their fill, I know that. I was just . . ." The captain looked away as if unable to meet the cabin boy's eyes. "To be absolutely honest, I was jealous. Frohike has such a way of keeping your attention with his outrageous stories. And it isn't just Melvin, it's the whole damned crew. You're like a sponge, Fox. So quick and bright, you soak up whatever they tell you whether it be how to mend a main sail, or the best way to overpower a vampire. I . . .I just don't feel I can compete with them, Fox." Mulder spent several long moments just blinking at his captain, then a breath-taking smile spread across his face, right before he threw his arms around Skinner's neck, hugging the big man for all he was worth. "No one can compete with you, sir." Mulder mumbled, refusing to relinquish his hold, his face buried in Skinner's neck. "They would be foolish to try." Mulder pulled back, swallowed hard, but looked straight into his captain's eyes. "I . . .I love you." The crewman sitting in the crow's nest on night watch, half asleep and bored to distraction, almost fell from his perilous perch when the captain's joyous shout tore through the quiet night. "Sir?" "Yes, brat?" Skinner nuzzled his cabin boy's neck happily. "Do you have any food around here. I'm starving." * * * Mulder smiled happily, the sun beating down on his upturned face and the wind whipping through his thick, dark hair. From where he stood in the crow's nest at the top of the tallest mast, Mulder was sure he could see at least a hundred miles of glassy, calm ocean in all directions. He glanced down to the deck to see the captain, head down, hands clasped behind his back, still anxiously pacing in a tight circle at the base of the main mast. For the past two weeks, Mulder and Langly had been spending two hours a day climbing in the rigging. This morning his erstwhile teacher had assured the nervous captain that the cabin boy had attained the skill needed to safely climb the ropes and take a tour as lookout in this, his favorite of all places on the ship. Mulder waved at the captain, hoping to reassure him, but the man had his head down, and was busy mumbling to the planks of the wooden deck. The cabin boy shrugged, looking back out to his beloved sea. His breath caught in his throat as his heart almost stopped. Mulder leaned far over the side of the wooden platform, waving his arms wildly and screaming at the top of his lungs, desperate to alert the captain, before it was too late, of what lay just ahead. Captain Skinner looked up to see his cabin boy practically dancing in the crows nest, his arms waving frantically above his head. "Langly, something's wrong with Fox. What is he signaling?" "I have no idea, sir. I've never seen those particular gestures before." "Did you not teach him the proper hand-signals for a look-out?" "Uh, no," Ringo said sheepishly. "I didn't think he'd actually see anything up there. He just likes to be places where the wind can blow in his face." "What's that thing dangling from his arm?" "Spyglass, sir. He kept dropping it, so I tied it to his wrist." "Merciful heavens! He's climbing over the side. Do something!" "He knows how to climb the rigging, sir." Ringo said with more confidence than he actually felt. Both Langly and the captain gasped as Mulder lost his balance, hung on to a rope with one hand, kicking wildly until he finally righted himself and continued his reckless descent. "Did you teach him to come down that fast?" "No. I told him to take his time until he gained more skill. There must be something wrong." "Shit!" Skinner gasped as Mulder once again lost his grip, finding another hold just in the nick of time. "Blasted boy is going to be the death of me yet. You mark my words. I have never . . ." Langly breathed a little easier as the captain hurried away from him and began to expertly climb the main mast rigging. Ringo found something urgent to do on the other side of the ship. He didn't want to be too close when the two were back on deck. It took only a few seconds for the captain to reach Fox, hooking a big arm around the jabbering man's waist and hauling him safely back down onto the deck. "What the hell do you think you were doing?" Skinner shook the agitated cabin boy soundly. "I swear you are the most . . ." Mulder managed to draw in a deep breath through his rattling teeth. "Captain, there's . . . there's a ma . . .man on a ra . . .raft out there!" "And if you don't start . . . What?" Skinner caught just enough of what he was saying to stop shaking him. "A raft?" "Yes! Yes, there's a man floating on a raft out there. We have to help him!" Skinner groaned in exasperation, "How many times do I have to explain this to you, brat. We're pi-rat-es. We're not out here to help people! We're supposed to strike fear into the hearts of men, not run about doing good deeds. At this rate, you're going to make us the laughing stock on every ship at sea." Mulder bottom lip came out in an adorable pout causing the captain to groan again. "Don't do that," he pleaded. "I know you have a kind heart, and you want to rescue that man, but it just isn't done, Fox. What if Blue Beard or Captain Claw found out about it? We'd never be able to show our faces again." The lip came out a little farther, while thick, dark lashes did a slow, disillusioned blink over sad, hazel eyes. The captain suddenly felt about two-inches tall. "Shit! Oh all right, but when we can't get a pint of ale in any pirate-owned port in the Caribbean, it will be all your fault." A disgruntled captain released his hold on his cabin boy and turned to his curious crew. "Well, what the hell are you all looking at? Prepare to come about to engage an unidentified . . .vessel." "That raft?" Mr. Byers eyebrow rose above his left eye. "Are you saying you're going to stop and pick up a stranger who has somehow gotten himself cast out onto a raft in the middle of the ocean?" "That's exactly what I mean, Mr. Byers." "But sir, he could be a thief, or even worse, a royal spy caught on one of the other pirate ships. He's out there for a reason. This just isn't prudent, sir." Skinner glanced back at Mulder who was now hanging over the side of the ship, biting worriedly at his pretty bottom lip as he watched the raft drift a little further away. "Shit! Just do it, Mr. Byers. It won't hurt to just talk to the man for a moment. There's nothing to say we have to let him stay on board." Byers glanced over to where Mulder stood, "I'm not so sure about that, sir." Skinner rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He couldn't remember ever having his head hurt like this before he had taken his cabin boy aboard his ship. "Frohike!" The little man came scrambling, his expression alarmed. "Yes, sir?' "Take Fox to my cabin and tie him to the bed." He glared at his nervous crewman, "And I swear if he shows back up on this deck, I am going to hold you personally responsible. I know you've been teaching him your street tricks. You'd be wise to make certain he doesn't use any of them to escape my cabin today!" Frohike paled at the mention of his dubious teachings to Fox. "Ye . . .yes, sir." Frohike had Mulder hustled down below and secured to the captains bed before the young man knew what happened to him. "Melvin! I can't believe you're doing this to me. I want to go back on deck. I want to see if that man is all right. And I don't want to be tied to this damned bed again!" "And I don't want to spend the afternoon showing off my bare, strapped ass as it hangs over a barrel on deck." Frohike smiled evilly as the cabin boy's face flushed crimson. "Now be quiet or I'll gag you." "But I'm the one who found the raft. This isn't fair!" "What isn't fair," Frohike snapped. "is that I keep getting in trouble because of you." Mulder stuck his bottom lip out, glaring at his traitorous friend. "And that won't work with me, save it for the captain. You are staying in this cabin, and that's that." "All right, fine. You don't have to get all cranky about it." Mulder pulled at the ropes holding his wrists to the bed. "These really hurt, Melvin. Do you think you could loosen them just a little. The captain doesn't like it when my wrists bleed too much." "Bleed? Shit! The captain'll kill me!" Frohike jumped up to attend to the ropes holding Fox captive. The captain rolled his eyes heavenward as he saw his cabin boy's head pop up through the hatch. "Damned kid!" Mulder moved his head slowly from left to right, as if searching the deck for something before coming fully above. He slowly turned, then his eyes widened in alarm as he saw the captain looking straight at him. "Did you kill him?" "No, of course not! I just tied him to your bed." Skinner grimaced, wondering just how long it had been since the scraggly little Frohike had last bathed. "Oh for heaven's sake, just get over here." the captain grumbled. "And I swear if you say one word or move from behind me, I'll blister your butt before I ever bother to ask that man what he's doing adrift in the Atlantic. Got it?" "Yes, sir!" Mulder beamed, feeling only a little guilty about tricking Frohike. "And I'm telling you right now, Fox. If I sense that the man is in any way a hazard to this ship or my crew, he stays in the water and I don't want to hear one word from you about it." "But, sir . . ." "Not one word, Fox. I've never made it a practice to rescue men at sea, and with good reason. He could be dangerous." Mulder snorted, "Yeah like this big, cut-throat crew of pirates are gonna' pee their pants over one lone man on a raft. What? You afraid he might fire his cannon at you?" "Fox, I swear . . ." Mulder watched as Skinner's face turned the most remarkable shade of purple. "Uh . . .sir, they're bringing him abroad now." Mulder smiled charmingly at his sputtering captain, hoping desperately to distract the man from the mayhem he saw glistening in his eyes. Two of the most huge, hideous-looking of Skinner's crew held the man securely between them. The rescued man smiled arrogantly, moving his eyes up and down as he quickly and appreciatively accessed the beautiful boy who stood straining to see around the big, broad-shouldered captain who stood so protectively in front of him. "Tell me who you are, and why you were set adrift before I toss you back in the sea, English." Skinner snarled , not having missed the look in the man's eyes when he saw Fox. "My name is Robert Modell and you throw me back in the ocean. In fact, you are most pleased to have me aboard your ship." Skinner blinked at the man, "I'm . . .I'm most pleased to have you aboard my ship," He muttered, while his crew looked on in shock. "Of course you are. Oh, and I'll be needing private accommodations." "Yes, of course." Skinner nodded slowly. "Tom, show Mr. Modell to a cabin." "Yes, sir." Colton smiled to himself as he approached this strange man who he hoped would turn out to be his new best ally. * * * Once Fox had released Frohike, and the man had scurried out the door, Skinner placed one foot upon a wooden bench and crooked his finger at his cabin boy's. "Come here, brat?" "I promised the cook I'd help with the evening meal." Mulder hedged his way toward the door. "He has enough help. Take down your pants, you won't be needing them for the next few minutes." "But sir, I . . ." "If you don't get your trousers down around your ankles within the next ten seconds you will not be wearing them again today, and I warn you, I plan for us to eat in the galley with the men tonight." The horrific mental picture of himself, half naked, sitting on a sore butt in the galley spurred the cabin boy to immediate action. He had no sooner let his trousers hit the floor, than he was upended over the captain's bent knee, his feet dangling off the floor behind him. Six quick, hard smacks landed on his unprotected bottom. "Ouch-h-h!" Fox squirmed over the big man's knee, his feet unable to touch the floor beneath him. "If you don't," Smack! "Learn to control that blasted curiosity of yours," Smack! Smack! "And start obeying my orders," Smack! Smack! Smack! "You won't be sitting down until we reach the island." Smack! Smack! Smack! "Do you understand me?" "Yes, ouch! I'll obey you! Ah! You have my promise!" "That's not exactly worth its weight in gold, now is it?" Smack! Smack! Smack! "But I suppose it'll have to do." Skinner released his hold on his vexatious cabin boy, standing him on his feet once more. Fox immediately put a hand back to rub his stinging backside, his bottom lip out and quivering slightly. "Save the pout for a day when I'm not quite so exasperated with you. Now, I want you to get clean linens from my sea-chest and change the bed." "Why?" Skinner gave Fox his best long-suffering look, "Well for one because I told you to do so, but since I doubt that alone will convince you to follow my orders, I don't like to sleep on linens that have been lain on by others." "You sure are prissy for a pirate captain." "I am prissy! And you would do well, young man, to remember that it is within my power to drop you at the next port we happen upon, and sell you to the first man who shows even the slightest interest in your pretty face. Of course, I'll have to set sail immediately before he finds out how I've duped him." The lip came back out, causing the captain to roll his eyes heavenward. "Don't even start with the lip, brat." Showing no mercy, Mulder threw in his best kicked-puppy look. "Look, I'm sorry I said that. I have no intention of selling you, I spoke out of exasperation. What say, we start over. You do as you're told and change the bed linens, and I'll try to quell my urge to take my belt to you again. How does that sound." "You certainly are prone to abrupt temperament changes, sir. I once read a book about demon possession and it said that . . ." "Stop! Don't even say it! Just change the bed linen. I'm going up on deck. Don't leave this cabin until I come get you, Fox." Mulder sighed, his expression leaving little doubt that he considered himself well and truly misused. "Yes, sir. Whatever you say, sir. I am here but to serve." "Right." Skinner muttered as he started to walk out the door. He abruptly turned back. "And when I return, I expect to find you lying naked and ready for me upon the clean sheets. It's the only service I can expect from you that doesn't come with a sullen attitude and a million questions." As he turned to leave, Skinner didn't miss the delighted smile that spread across his cabin boy's beautiful face. * * * A few of the crewmen smiled knowingly as the captain entered the galley whistling under his breath, his pretty cabin boy a few steps behind him. "You'll be dining with us, captain." The captain stopped so suddenly that Mulder bumped into his broad back. They now stood at a table where Tom Colton and Robert Modell had been deep in conversation. Skinner blinked at the new man, his eyes glazed. "Yes, of course we will. Fox, go get our plates." Mulder frowned as his captain seated himself with Colton and Modell. "I think Mr. Byers is expecting you at the front table, Captain Skinner." Modell turned lazy eyes toward Mulder but continued to address the captain, "He's terribly brash for a cabin boy. What he needs is a good dose of your whip across his back, captain? You will do that now." The man turned back to see what effect his words had on the captain and was unnerved to see the man now scowling at him. That was interesting. "The whip is never to be used on Fox." "I see. Well I'm sure you have other ways to discipline him. Mr. Colton was just telling me that you are on your way home. I am looking forward to seeing your beautiful island." "I thought we were dropping him at the next port?" Fox eyed the newcomer with distaste. "No," Modell stared intently at the captain. "I'm going to the island with you." "He's going to the island with us." Skinner repeated. "Whatever," Mulder groused as he left to get their food. "And naturally," Modell continued to look deeply into the captain's eyes. "I'll need someone to warm my bed. I think that cabin boy will do nicely." Skinner blinked, then narrowed his eyes. "No one touches Fox." "Of course, I was only jesting. Please, let's get off on a better foot, shall we." Modell used his most charming smile as the captain seated himself across from him. Modell studied the man closely. So he really couldn't push the captain where the pretty cabin boy was concerned. Modell had run into something like this once before, where a man was so totally enamored that he couldn't be manipulated out of his prized possession. Of course that time it had been only a thoroughbred horse. Robert had just shot the man and taken the horse anyway. Perhaps he would have to do the same with the captain. Mulder came back, sitting the captain's plate in front of him and taking his own seat to Skinner's right. Just as they began to eat, the captain was called away by the seaman on watch. "Can't it wait?" Skinner snarled at the nervous seaman. "N . . .no, sir. Mr. Byers asked that I have you come on deck at once." Skinner rose from his bench. "Fox, stay here, and finish your meal. Take my plate to my cabin, I'll return there as quickly as possible." Mulder looked longingly after the captain, then began to quickly eat his own meal. "Fox," Modell smiled at the young man disarmingly, "you're really very beautiful." "Go to hell," Mulder hissed. "I don't know what the hell you do, or how you do it, but it's not going to work on me. And you'd be wise to take care with my captain as well." Fox spared another glare for Colton. "And you should be more careful of the company you keep, Tom." "And you'd best watch your mouth, little cabin boy." Colton sneered. "Or I'll arrange for you to spend another afternoon over a barrel on the deck. The captain trusts me. If I tell him you've been risking your life, he'll not hesitate to take the strap to you again." "Trust takes a long time to earn and only minutes to destroy. You'd best remember that Colton." Mulder gave the men one more menacing glare before stalking out of the galley. Colton watched Mulder leave the galley then turned back to his new friend, "Why don't you just use your power to force Mulder into your bed?" "Now where would be the fun in that?" Modell chuckled, "Besides when Skinner willingly gives the cabin boy to me, there will be nothing standing between you and the big man's bed." "Captain Skinner will never hand Fox over to you." Colton assured him, defeat heavy in his voice. "Well, we'll just have to see about that." * * * "What was so blasted important that you had to interrupt my dinner, Mr. Byers?" "We reach the island in two days, sir. We have to decide immediately if we are to change course for Talisman Port to drop off that worthless piece of flotsam we picked up before going home." "No, John, I've . . .I've invited him to stay on the island with me." "What! Are you daft, man?" Byers grimaced as he saw the scowl that came across his captain's face. "Oh, sorry, sir. But . . .why would you do that? We know nothing about him, and quite frankly, I don't like the way he looks at Fox." "I . . .I'm not certain, Mr. Byers, but the decision has been made. Continue our course for Sauve L'ile. I look forward to seeing our home again." "As do I, captain." Byers was still worried, but could think of nothing to say that would change the captain's mind about Modell. * * * Skinner woke to the unfamiliar feeling of an empty bed. He quickly lit the candle on the table beside him, looking around for his missing cabin boy. The door was standing open but Fox was no where is sight. The captain rose, dressing quickly, heading up on deck, fear knotting his stomach. He ran over to the man on night watch. "Pearly Pete, is Fox up here with you?" Skinner asked as he looked up to the crows nest. He could see by moonlight that it was unmanned on this night. "No sir, I haven't seen him. Only men been on deck tonight, except the night crew, was Tom Colton and that new guy we picked up today. Man said he needed a little air before going to his quarters." Captain Skinner spent the next two hours searching the ship from bow to stern, finally exasperated, frightened and ready to call out every man to help in the search, he went below to the very bowels of the ship. There, standing half naked and in brackish water up to his ankles was his cabin boy, just staring at one wall of the ship's murky underbelly. "Fox!" When Mulder didn't move a muscle, Skinner moved closer, "Fox." He gently touched the man's bare shoulder, finally eliciting a flinch and a loud gasp as Fox clutched at his chest. "Sir! You scared me!" "You should be scared! What the hell are you doing down here? I specifically told you that you were never to come down here. The rats in this stinking place are bigger than you are. You haven't already been bitten by those disease-ridden vermin have you?" Mulder shook his head, turning to smile at his captain. "I saw him, sir." In the light of the lantern he carried, Skinner could see that Mulder's eyes were slightly unfocused, but still shining with some wonderment known only to himself. "You saw who, Fox." "The ghost." Skinner's chin dropped, "Excuse me?" "The ship's ghost. He came to your cabin and told me that if I followed him down here he would tell me all about the mysteries of the sea. I really wanted to know about the mermaids, sir, but I've been waiting and waiting, and he still isn't here." "No, I suspect he isn't." Skinner took his cabin boy's arm in a firm grip, brooking no argument. "You have to come back to the cabin now, Fox. This is no place for you to spend the night." Mulder pulled his arm away with more strength than Skinner would have thought he possessed. "No! I can't leave! I . . .I have to stay down here! " "You have to do what I say, brat! Now move your butt back to our cabin or else!" "No . . .I can't . . .he . . .he said . . ." Mulder rubbed a hand over his face. "Someone . . .told me that I . . ." Skinner grabbed his arm once more, even more firmly than before. "You're already in trouble for leaving the cabin without telling me, brat, don't make this any worse on yourself." That got Mulder's attention. "Tr . . .trouble?" "Oh yes, big trouble." Skinner led his dazed cabin boy out of the filthy ship's hole and back to his cabin. "You smell, Fox." Skinner pointed to the bowl and pitcher that sat on a small table. "I want you to wash up, then you're going to spend a little time over my knee before we go back to bed." When Mulder had finished cleaning himself, stashing his reeking pants in a far corner of the room, he turned to face his fuming captain. "A ghost, Fox? It's quite clear to me that I am going to have to be very careful about who talks to you. If you persist in making up stories like this, someone is likely to declare you insane and lock you away from me. We can't have that now, can we?" "But sir, I didn't make it up. There is a ghost. His name is Stubby and he used to be the . . ." "Enough! I put up with most of your antics, Fox. Truth be known, you quite entertain me at times, but I will not put up with lying. I don't know why you got up in the middle of the night to continue your constant exploration of this ship but it certainly had nothing to do with a ghost. There are no such things as ghosts." Skinner took a seat on the side of the bed, "Come here. Let's get this over with so we can both get some sleep." Justice, or injustice, depending on whose point of view you favored, was swift and painful. Mulder's bare bottom had no sooner come to rest over the captain's massive knees than he found himself kicking and yelping under a barrage of hard, precisely placed smacks. "I will not tolerate lying, Fox." "Ah-h-h! But I didn't . . .Ouch-h-h-h!" The captain's hand came down relentlessly on the upturned butt over his lap, bringing every inch of unprotected skin to a bright scarlet before he finally stopped, satisfied with a job well done. "Will you lie to me again, brat?" "I never lie, sir." Mulder choked out around tears that he was trying to angrily wipe from his streaked face before the captain could see them. Another hard smack right where the boy would have to sit to eat breakfast in the morning. "Well then, don't be making up stories either. I'm a simple man and not prone to enjoy flights of fancy." "I'd have to agree with the ‘simple' part. Ouch! Ouch! Ah-h-h!" The captain had to hold on tightly to his squirming cabin boy as he laid on these last few well-deserved smacks on already soundly-paddled skin. "You can get up and go to bed, brat. We have another full day at sea before we reach my island." Mulder settled in bed, face down, still rubbing his stinging backside. He thought that the burning pain in his rear would keep him awake but he had no sooner rested his head on his captain's shoulder, than he was deeply asleep. A smile on his lips as he felt the soft kisses that were deposited in his hair. * * * "Where the hell is Fox?" Skinner bellowed, making each and every man of his crew cringe. "Um, I saw him talking to the man at the wheel just a few minutes ago," Frohike offered nervously. The captain had taken only three steps in that direction, when the ship did a high roll, turning sharply to port, her sails flapping uselessly in the wind. The main sail suddenly caught and a large boom came swinging across the deck with deadly force, the captain and crew ducking only seconds before they would have been knocked into the ocean. "What the hell?" Captain Skinner ran for the aft of the ship to see what had happened to cause the helm to be out of control. When he got there, he and his crew were all shocked to see the pirate sailor assigned to steer, whipping the wheel around frantically while Fox shouted directions, pointing frantically out to sea. "What is the meaning of this?" Skinner shouted, grabbing the wheel from the man's hands and fighting to put his ship back on a course enabling the wind to once again catch the sails. "A sea monster, sir!" Skinner momentarily lost his concentration as his mouth dropped open yet again, his head whirling around to look at his cabin boy. A sharp tilt of the deck beneath his feet focused his attention back on the task at hand, as he expertly brought his ship to heel. He glanced up to see four seamen hanging in the rigging, the main sail once again secured and billowing nicely in the afternoon breeze. He exhaled a huge sigh of relief. He then turned to Fox. "Start talking!" He held up a hand when Mulder opened his mouth to speak. "No wait! We discussed this last night. Let's go over here where you can tell me in private." Mulder was fidgeting, literally jumping up and down with excitement as Skinner led him over to the railing. "Now what is this all about, Fox? And I warn you, it had better be damned good." "I saw a sea serpent, sir. It was right out there, plain as the nose on your face." He took a moment to inspect the captain's inadequate little proboscis, "Well, perhaps as clear as the nose on face would be more accurate." Skinner put a hand to Fox's forehead, "Just how long have you been out in this sun, brat?" Mulder batted the hand away, "No really, it's a sea serpent. Big, ugly monster with green scales and a long neck. Came up out of the water and smacked its great tail at me. I saw it right out there!" "And just why were you trying to turn my ship around . . .oh wait, I know, you were planning to rescue the thing, bring it on board with us. I do think we still have one empty cabin left." Mulder rolled his eyes, "This is no time for your first attempt at levity, sir. You have to . . ." "I'll have you know, young man, that I've been known to be quite zany at times." "Yeah right! As I was saying, you have to come see this thing for yourself. It's coming right for us!" Skinner raised his eyes, searching for his first mate. "Mr. Byers!" John came swiftly, his face a mask of concern. "Yes, sir?" "Did the look-out in the crow's nest report anything . . .unusual today?" "No sir. It's been clear for several days now." "Are you sure?" John looked at him strangely, "Yes captain, I'm very sure." "Thank you, Mr. Byers. Fox, you are to report to my cabin and wait for me there." "But . . ." "Would you prefer to spend the afternoon belly-down over a barrel, Fox?" Skinner hissed, his mouth so close to Mulder's ear he could feel the angry man's breath singe his skin. "No sir!" Mulder turned quickly, only to realize he would be forced to pass by a smirking Tom Colton and Robert Modell. "When's the last time you were able to sit down for a meal, little cabin boy?" Modell said around his shark smile. "Yeah," Colton added. "I heard the captain's about the wear out his strong right arm blistering your butt for you." "Get away from me, Colton." "Not much longer now, Fox," Modell's smile broadened maliciously. "You'll be mine to do with as I wish." "And the captain will be all mine." Colton added spitefully. Mulder spared one final glare for the odious men before dejectedly making his way below decks. * * * Tom Colton stood listening outside the captain's cabin, smiling smugly. The unmistakable sound of a hand slapping bare skin coming to him clearly through the closed door. He had to give a little credit to the cabin boy, he had taken at least five minutes of resounding punishment before he had finally given voice to his distress. Since that time, the wholly satisfying sounds of the rigorous slaps had been punctuated by the even more gratifying sounds of Fox's wretched sobs and desperate pleas for mercy. Colton could just picture the pretty Fox. Bare bottom up, red and stinging from the application of the captain's expert hand. Unable to control the writhing of his butt or the kicking of his legs as he bucked childishly across the big man's lap. Humiliated, humbled and in sizzling, red-hot pain. How perfect! At long last the slaps slowed down. He could only hear mumbling, but it appeared the captain was eliciting promises from his newly chastised cabin boy between each new flurry of highly effective smacks. It was not surprising to Colton that Fox's replies were both eager and emphatic. He supposed a person would be willing to promise almost anything to end the kind of punishment he had just heard delivered to the cabin boy's bare bottom. Colton heard shuffling sounds coming from inside. He assumed Fox was being sent to shamefully display his injured bottom in a corner of the cabin. The scheming crewman moved back into the shadows of the corridor, waiting for Captain Skinner to exit the cabin. He planned to take the opportunity to console the captain on his wretched luck in acquiring such an appalling excuse for a cabin boy. Perhaps now would be a good time to hint that his own services could be made available. If the captain looked too surly to confront, Colton would turn his attention to the punished, sulking man in the corner. Baiting Fox was always such fun. The door remained closed. Colton frowned, risked moving back to plaster his ear against the rough wood. Inside he could hear more soft murmuring, and what could only be the sound of muffled sobbing. He gritted his teeth as he pictured Skinner actually trying to comfort his irksome cabin boy. Shit! This is not the way it was supposed to go at all. To Colton's disappointed ears, the sounds of the consoling went on far too long. Then the bed began to squeak in a way that made his blood run cold. And Fox was yelling again, but this time Colton was under no illusions that it had anything to do with pain. Tom turned away in disgust. He needed to talk to Modell! * * * Mulder lay on the bed still trying to catch his breath. Skinner had worked him over with his hot, wet tongue and big rough hands from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. By the time the captain had finally taken him, Mulder had been shaking so hard he hadn't even cared that he was lying on a pair of very soundly-spanked butt cheeks. But now . . .he squirmed just a little and was rewarded by a chuckle and another big, wet kiss on his cheek. "Does my brat need to lay on his stomach for a while?" Mulder gave him a withering look, but turned all the same, draping himself face down on the bigger man's hard body. "That's nice," Skinner rubbed a hand soothingly up and down the cabin boy's long back. "Since you turn into such a nice blanket, maybe I should keep that pretty bottom of yours sore all the time." "I'd say you've done a pretty good job of that this last week," Mulder sulked, earning himself a sharp smack on his red butt. "You have been especially adventurous lately. Is there some reason why you .. . ." Skinner never got to finish his question, interrupted by the robust and jubilant cry from above. "Land ho!" Skinner gave Mulder another quick hug, placing yet another big, wet kiss on his smooth cheek.. "Home, sweet boy! We're home!" They dressed quickly, Skinner practically dragging his cabin boy up on deck for his first look at his new home. As Mulder leaned as far over the rail as possible, he sucked in a deep, awed breath. Slowly coming into view was the most beautiful island Fox could ever have imagined. All emerald green trees, white sparkling sands and clear blue waters. It was a true paradise. "Home." The cabin boy whispered, looking up into his captain's delighted face. "I've never had a real home before." Captain Skinner wrapped his arms more tightly around that which he prized above all else. "Well you do now, Fox. You do now." It was a close to dinnertime before they finally made their way back to the plantation house. Skinner found himself practically doubling over with laughter as he watched Fox make a mad dash up the steps of the house, his bare bottom shining in the sun. "Tear his pants, did he?" Skinner turned around, wiping tears from his eyes, to face his first mate. "He does tend to find trouble easily. And are you enjoying your time at home, Mr. Byers?" "With a wife like Suzanne waiting for me, how could I not?" "I do hope you'll join us for dinner tonight. I miss your company, John." Byers looked down at the ground. It was very unusual for he and his wife not to dine at the main house frequently while they were on the island. "Suzanne doesn't feel comfortable around Modell. You know how she relies on her instincts." "They're good ones, John. They saved her many a time when she sailed with her father." "Yes, few could boast so many merchant ships plundered and with so little struggle. Captain Modesky lays all the credit for their remarkable success at Suzanne's feet. He says she knows instinctively when to strike and when to lay low." "It's a talent worth having, John." "Yes, if only all of us were so blessed. But I didn't come here to yet again harp on my misgivings regarding Modell. I came to tell you that the look-outs have spotted a ship laying anchor off our shores." "Friend or foe, John?" "It's the Severed Heart." "Gentleman John? Are they sure?" "Yes. Blackson used to sail with the man, that's why he has that hook instead of a hand. He would know the ship without a doubt." "Do you think he followed us?" "No captain, I think he's been waiting here for us to arrive. He knew we would come home eventually." "Will he dare come ashore?" "I don't know. I think there's something he wants. What he'll do to get that something or . . ." Byers shrugged as he looked meaningfully at the steps that had taken Fox into the house. "Fox? Why would a cold-blooded killer like Gentleman John care about a cabin boy?" "We know he has a particular fondness for children, captain." Both men shuddered as the truth of that statement sent cold chills down their spines. "And yes, I know Fox is far from the age of childhood but he just tends to look so young and innocent, I have to wonder if he caught Gentleman John's eye at some point." "I find this whole thing hard to believe, Mr. Byers." Skinner shook his head adamantly but John Byers got the impression it was more to convince himself than his first mate that Fox was in no danger. "You need to take extra precautions, captain. Fox is the only thing that is on this island now that wasn't here six months ago. Gentleman John would never confront you without a good reason. You've bested him too many times for the old pervert to take you lightly. He wants something, I'm sure of it." "Thanks for the warning, John. I'll keep Fox close to my side for a while." "Uh . . .of course you will." Byers bite his bottom lip as the toe of his boot scuffed at the sandy ground. "What?" Skinner eyed his skeptical friend. "Spit it out, Mr. Byers." "It's just that I've seen how curious Fox can be. By the end of the week he will have touched, tasted, sniffed or questioned everything on this island. He'll need careful watching." "I can handle Fox. You need not concern yourself about that." "Of course not, sir." "He'll obey me." "Well, . . ." "He'll not get out of my sight." "Yes, sir." Skinner noticed that his first mate still seemed less than convinced. "Surely you believe I can control one cabin boy?" "Absolutely, sir, an ordinary cabin boy would be no problem at all." "But you think Fox is different? Do you doubt my abilities, John?" "No, of course not, sir." John Byers looked up hopefully, "But do you happen to still have that harem-boy collar, captain." * * * In the weeks that followed, there was no further sightings of the Severed Heart and its evil captain, and gradually the captain began to relax his guard. Mulder managed to explore every inch of his new island home. Occasionally he escaped to prowl on his own, but more often he was accompanied by his enamored captain. Nothing amused Captain Skinner more than when Mulder would be rattling on about something new that had caught his inquisitive eye, only to blush furiously when it was pointed out to him that he had seen whatever it was on his first tour of the island. The two men became a common sight as they road double on Skinner's magnificent, white horse. While the captain continued to insist that the cabin boy was not a skilled enough rider for his own mount, Mulder just made sure he gave his captain no excuse to punish him while they were riding together. One of their favorite spots was the waterfall. They would spend long afternoons swimming and frolicking in the clear, cool waters. Stopping only to eat or make love before returning to the soothing respite of the tranquil pond to refresh themselves before starting all over again. On one such occasion, they lay exhausted in each other's arms on the soft, lush grass that surrounded the pool. They had been at the waterfall most of the day, alternating making love and swimming. It had been a wonderful afternoon. Mulder smiled as he felt soft lips lightly graze the little mole on the side of his face. "Are you happy here on my island, cabin boy." Captain Skinner gasped as he was unexpectedly rolled to find himself flat on his back with Fox straddling his hips and looking down at him with a wide grin and sparkling hazel eyes. "Yes, my handsome pirate captain, I am most happy here with you." Just as Mulder dropped his upper body to devour Skinner's mouth, he felt something hot whiz by his ear, then the crack of the musket fire as the molten-hot lead ball lodged itself in a nearby tree. The next instant, the captain had locked both arms around him and they were rolling across the grass and into the pond as more lead slammed into the ground where Mulder had just been lying. Skinner kicked his powerful legs, one arm wrapped around Mulder's throat as he pulled the cabin boy through the water. "Fox! Have you been shot? Have you been hit?" The captain queried frantically over and over as he made for the relative safety of some overhanging shrubs at the far end of the once tranquil pool. Mulder gasped and sputtered, thinking a better question might well have been ‘Fox, am I drowning you?', but he couldn't voice that observation as he was too busy trying to keep his head above water. After a while, Skinner left his cabin boy in their makeshift shelter to have a look around for their attackers. After several long, tense minutes, he came back to pull a waterlogged Fox onto the bank. He had found no trace of anyone. Skinner alerted John Byers of the incident, and extra guards were posted around the island. The captain became even more protective of Fox, seldom letting him out of his sight. It would have been intolerable for the restless, freedom-loving cabin boy if not for the evenings. Evenings were spent consuming delicious dinners, then retiring to sit on the wide verandas, watching the stars come out of hiding and talking for long companionable hours. The captain found Mulder's wide range of knowledge on so many topics fascinating, especially since he had spent the last three years locked away in that hellish counting house. It seemed the cabin boy had been very ingenious in his lifelong search for knowledge. Reading any book that came within his reach, and making friends of anyone who happened into the counting house when Blevins was elsewhere instead of managing his business. Which, according to Fox, was quite often, since Blevins seemed to have a special delectation for the local pub. Many of the old seaman who spent their time spinning tall tales on benches during the day, would make their way back to the counting house at night to tell Fox their stories as he looked down upon them from the only window high on the counting house wall. Both men came to love the nights spent together on the verandas. Captain Skinner taught his cabin boy how to navigate by the stars, while Mulder taught his captain how to laugh again. Or sometimes, they would sit in front of a small fire in Skinner's study, Mulder's head resting on his captain's lap as the older man read from one of his many books. Occasionally it was a book that Mulder had somehow managed to get in his hands in years past, but it always seemed new and exciting when the words were read to him in Skinner's deep, velvet voice. The only detriment, in Mulder's opinion, was the constant presence of Robert Modell, his smirking eyes always seeming to rest on Mulder. That is, of course, when they weren't staring intently at the captain, somehow forcing him to Modell's will. Mulder's only salvation lie in the fact that when it came to the cabin boy, Skinner could not be swayed by Modell. The insidious cast-away always pretended to have been jesting when Skinner took offense to his unending demands that Fox be punished in his presence or worse, sent to Modell's chambers for the evening. But Mulder saw the fury in the man's eyes each time his wishes were denied. Mulder feared that someday, Robert Modell would not be willing to take ‘no' for an answer. And then there was Tom Colton. Somehow always worming his way into the main house. A curiously often-invited guest for dinner, thanks, Fox believed, to the unusual abilities of Modell. Colton liked nothing more than to wheedle a few moments alone with Mulder, baiting him unmercifully. Telling him in great detail how he planned to take the cabin boy's place with Captain Skinner. Fox, for his part, tried to ignore his boasting, but the cabin boy's innate feelings of unworthiness combined with his deep seeded fear of rejection often caused him to lie awake long after his captain had slipped into peaceful sleep. The island itself was for all intents and purposes divided into four parts. The west beach contained the main house and grounds. The north side was where the barracks and establishments of entertainment for the single men of the crew were located. To the east was the native village. And on the south beach, tidy little bungalows had been built for the married pirates and their families. The interior of the island contained sugar cane fields, orchards, and untamed jungle vegetation. And a few other less ordinary inhabitants. A population that was unequivocally dismissed by the ever-skeptical Skinner and hotly pursued by his reckless, inquisitive cabin boy. One evening it was only Skinner, Purdue and Mulder at the dinner table. This was a true rarity with Robert Modell in residence, as he was never one to miss a meal or a chance to taunt the captain and his cabin boy. Tonight's quiet, relaxed dinner was an novel treat for the three men. Captain Skinner smiled across the table at his beautiful dinner companion. "So how did you spend you day, Fox?" Mulder swallowed hard as he looked up to meet the eyes of his captain. "I spent most of the day with Mother Maggie and her Order of Evangelical Sanctimonious Sisters over at the missionary. She's a great lady. She bakes banana cookies for me." "You know you're not supposed to leave the house when I can't go with you. I don't know how many times we have to go over this before you finally understand . . ." "Frohike went with me, sir." "How reassuring," Skinner growled as he went back to his meal. "He kept me company on the way there but then he had to leave so Langly came by to ride back home with me." Skinner smiled at Fox's use of the word ‘home'. Mulder turned from his captain to give a wide smile to Reggie as he refilled his soup bowl, taking full advantage of the distraction to avoid further conversation on the subject of Mother Maggie with his captain. "I can get my own soup, Captain Purdue." Reggie patted him on the head. "You don't eat enough. And besides, would you deny an old man his honest labor?" "Honest labor?" Skinner snorted. "One of the most blood-thirsty pirates to ever sail the seven seas, and now you want to dip soup. In that case, you can refill my bowl as well." "Get your own!" Reggie snapped as he took his seat across from Fox once more. Mulder looked back to see his captain glowering at from across the table. "Uh . . .would you like me to get you some more soup, sir?" "No, Fox, but I would like you to tell me why you were visiting with Mother Maggie when I specifically told you to stay away from her and the mission. I don't want you around that . . .that bunch of self-righteous, bible-thumping, disapproving old biddies." "You shouldn't say such things about Mother Maggie, sir!" Mulder gasped, appalled that Skinner would say such things about the saintly woman. "She does good work on the island." "She disapproves of pirates, Fox. She's trying to redeem my soul!" "Well, that's certainly a lofty goal. I should think you'd give her some credit for the sheer magnitude of an undertaking such as that. Mother Maggie says that the path to salvation is a difficult road for the weak of mind and obstinate of spirit." "Obstinate? She said I was obstinate and weak-minded as well?" "Yes, sir. She was quite specific." "Reggie," Skinner glowered at the snickering older man. "I really don't think you are helping matters very much." "That boy is just a sight," Reggie chuckled. "This has got to be the funniest conversation I've ever heard." "I'm so glad we can amuse you, Captain Purdue." "Oh so am, I, Walter. Is everyone ready for the main course now?" Reggie wiped the tears from his eyes as he rose from his chair. "If it means you're going to leave the table for a while," Skinner growled, "Then yes, I am more than ready." "Sir!" Mulder's eyes were huge in his face. "You shouldn't talk to him like that. He's your captain." " my captain." Skinner spared one more parting frown for the still snickering older man before turning back to Mulder. "And you should think twice before telling me what I should and should not do. So am I to understand that you spent all day with that Mother Maggie woman?" "No," Mulder glanced up at Skinner from under thick, lowered lashes. "I found some gold," he mumbled. "What did you say?" The captain carefully set his spoon down, picking up his wine glass, his eyes never leaving Fox. "Uh, the leprechauns showed me where this cave was down by where the ship is docked. It was full of gold!" Skinner sprayed wine all over the snow-white tablecloth. "A cave with gold?" "Yeah. It was really something. There's lots of other treasure there, too. I've never seen anything like it in my life." "I wouldn't doubt that! You know, Fox, you really shouldn't tell anyone else about this cave, they might not be as honest as you are. They could steal the, uh . . .leprechaun's gold." "Oh, I already took care of that." Another mouthful of wine hit the table. Mulder jumped up to pound his choking captain on his back. "Are you all right, sir? Perhaps you should just drink water tonight." "What do you mean you ‘took care' of the gold?" "I gave it to Mother Maggie and the Sanctimonious Sisters." "YOU WHAT!" The volume of Skinner's voice brought Reggie scurrying back from the kitchen. "What in the hell's bells is going on in here?" Reggie looked over at a wide-eyes, terrified Mulder. "Why are you scarin' that boy, Walter?" "He's not half as scared as he's going to be. Go to my study, Fox, strip, and wait for me with your nose in the corner. Now!" Mulder scrambled out of his chair, casting one quick pleading glance at Reggie, then scurried from the room. "That boy didn't finish his dinner." Reggie growled, making it clear just what he thought of that particular infraction. "He'll eat after I'm finished with him." "He can't eat when he's upset, and I have a feeling you plan to upset him quite a bit." Skinner narrowed his eyes dangerously, infuriated upon seeing it had little or no effect on his former captain. "I don't plan to upset him, I plan to apply my hand to his bare backside. You needn't overly concern yourself, Captain Purdue, he'll live to irritate me another day. And he finish his dinner afterward." Mulder shivered in the cool room as he stood facing the corner, his stomach tied in knots of anticipation. His body tensed as he heard the door open behind him but he kept his nose buried in the corner. He heard the sounds of a fire being laid in the hearth and wondered if a servant had been sent or if the captain was attending to the chore himself. He hated the idea that a servant was seeing him standing naked and shamed in a corner awaiting a spanking. All was quiet for several minutes as the room slowly warmed. Mulder continued to tremble, flinching at every small sound. A drawer opened and then closed. Then there was the unmistakable sound of leather creaking as Captain Skinner sat himself down in one of the big armchairs close to the fire. "You have a beautiful ass, Fox." Mulder let his chin drop down to his chest, hot color washing into his face. "It's unfortunate that something that beautiful is so frequently made to feel the brunt of your poor judgement. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. I've become quite fond of watching it turn rosy under my hand while your gorgeous body writhes and bucks over my knee. It's all quite arousing." Skinner paused but when the cabin boy made no comment, he continued, "Very well, I will assume by your silence that you agree with your forthcoming punishment and are ready to proceed. Come over here, brat, and get into the proper position for a very thorough bottom warming." Mulder reluctantly turned around to face his captain who sat comfortably in his big leather chair, calmly rolling up the shirt sleeve over his massive right forearm. Mulder swallowed hard, "Please sir, couldn't I bend over the back of a chair or something?" "No. As I mentioned, I've become quite fond of the feel of your naked body squirming so temptingly against me. Now get over here before I lose my patience." Mulder quickly complied, wiggling around on the big man's lap trying to make himself as comfortable as possible. "And just what would that be, sir? Ouch!" "Your problem, boy," Smack! "Is that you seem to lack basic self-preservation instincts." Smack! Smack! Smack! "Well, you're going to learn them!" Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! "Don't doubt that for a minute." Smack! Smack! Smack! Skinner watched as the smooth white skin presented up to him turned pink, then red, then scarlet as the cabin boy howled his distress to the four walls. Do you know why you're being punished this time, Fox?" "I gave the leprechaun's gold to Mother Maggie and the sisters?" Fox asked. "That's only one of the reasons, and that cave doesn't belong to leprechauns, brat. Not that there's any such thing to begin with. It's my cave. My treasure. You gave away the gold that belongs to the Chave Terreur, cabin boy." "Are you sure? The leprechauns said . . ." "Stop! There are no such things as leprechauns! I won't tolerate lying, Fox." "I'm not lying! Ah-h-h-h!" Tom Colton once again stood with his ear pressed up against the door. This time the captain wouldn't have the option to stay inside once he had finished with the irritating Fox. The jealous man outside the door delighted in the sound of a hard hand hitting bare flesh, while Fox's pleading cries were music to his ears. He just didn't understand why a handsome, powerful man like Captain Skinner would put up with such an nuisance like Fox. Sure the kid was good-looking, so what? Pretty boys could be had in every port in the Caribbean. After what seemed like a lifetime to Tom, and even longer to Mulder, the yelling stopped and Colton heard the sound of soothing words of comfort coming from inside the study. Tom tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the door to open. Tom began to pace in front of the door, watching closely for any indication that Skinner would appear. He stopped and looked up as a loud burst of what sounded suspiciously like his captain laughing came from the other side of the door. Surely not! The captain never laughed! A few moments passed, then there was a surprised shriek, this time from Mulder. Abruptly the door rattled and then flew open. Tom looked on in amazement as a still chuckling Captain Skinner walked into the hall, carrying a disheveled Fox in his massive arms. "I can't believe you said that, Brat." Skinner chuckled, bouncing the cabin boy in his arms. Mulder struggled half-heartedly in his captain's embrace, the tears on his face now due to laughter instead of his spanking. "I didn't say the leprechaun looked exactly like you. Your ears aren't as pointed and he had more hair. Ah-h-h-h-h! Stop that!" Mulder squirmed, trying to escape Skinner's tickling fingers. "This is ridiculous, I'm a grown man! Put me down!" "No. Every time I put you down, you run off and get yourself into trouble. I may just carry you around like this for the rest of our stay on the island." "Mother Maggie isn't going to approve of . . .Ah-h-h-h, stop! Stop! I didn't mean it! Stop! I won't mention her name again!" Mulder promised as Skinner managed to hold him and tickle him at the same time. Captain Skinner stopped abruptly as he came face to face with a very disconcerted Tom Colton. "What is it Tom?" "Uh . . .I was . . .that is . . ." "Put me down!" Mulder hissed as he tried to get out of this embarrassing position as his enemy stared at him spitefully. "Be still, Fox." Skinner bounced his cabin boy in his arms once more. "It's all right, Tom, what did you need to discuss with me? Has Gentleman John's pirate ship been spotted again?" "No, sir, it isn't about Gentleman John. It's uh . . ." Colton glanced back at Mulder who had settled down in Skinner's arms as ordered, and was now eying Colton as curiously as was the captain. "Well I needed your advice on some ideas I have for our next voyage, Captain Skinner, and I was wondering if you would come have a mug of rum with me down at the Boar & Ale tonight?" Mulder's eyes narrowed in what he hoped was the same dangerous manner he had seen his captain use so successfully. Colton didn't seem overly impressed, keeping his eyes on the captain hopefully. "I thank you for the kind offer, Tom, but perhaps some other night. I have plans for this evening." He bounced Mulder again, this time taking him by surprise. The cabin boy, sure he was about to be dropped on his butt, instinctively threw both arms around the captain's neck. Skinner chuckled. "Thanks again for the offer, Tom. I'll try to find a few minutes to talk with you tomorrow." Colton watched angrily as Skinner walked lightly away as if the grown man in his arms weighed less than a feather. Tom stomach burned with fury. He had to get rid of Fox. It was the only way he would ever have a chance with the captain. When Skinner reached his chambers with his squirming bundle, he kicked the door closed behind him, walking straight to the bed, tossing Fox right into the middle, laughing hard as the cabin boy drowned in the duck-down mattress. "Hey!" "Hey, yourself. Get those clothes off! I warned you that spanking your butt made me primed to bed you." "Then I may have to be bad all the time." "How will I tell the difference?" "Very funny." Mulder rolled off the high bed, already pulling at his clothing before his feet even hit the floor. He had just stepped out of his trousers and given them a hit or miss pitch toward a nearby chair, when he was once again lifted in the air and thrown onto the massive bed. This time he wasn't alone when he landed. "You are so beautiful, you almost take my breath away." Skinner hissed as his hot mouth roamed down Mulder's throat. "And here I thought you were breathing hard from all the work it took to beat me." "I beat you! I correct you. I guide you. I offer deterrents to your penchant for risky behavior." "Well my backside hurts like hell from your latest deterrent." Skinner nipped at the soft skin at the base of Mulder's neck, skin that he had been up till then, kissing sweetly. "Ouch!" "You'd best not bring up the current state of your backside. It makes me think of my gold, and when I think of my gold I think of that holier-than-thou Mother Maggie. And when I think about her I think about you giving my hard-won treasure to that . . .that . . .woman, and I want to blister your bottom all over again." Mulder swallowed hard. "Consider the subject dropped, sir." "Wise choice, brat. Now where was I? Oh yes." Skinner moved his scorching mouth down to claim one hard little nipple. Mulder gasped loudly, beginning to tremble all over. "I love the way you respond to my touch, my precious little cabin boy. I should go back and thank Mr. Blevins for bestowing me with such an exquisite gift." "I'm sure . . .Oh! . . .that Mr. Blevins doesn't see it, Oh! . . .quite that way . . .Um-m-m-m! I think he thinks of me more as stolen property than as a gift." "Well," Skinner licked on sucked on every available inch of smooth, cool skin available to him. "This is one piece of property he will never reclaim." Tom Colton stood outside the bedroom door, his face red with rage. He couldn't take this any more. He turned on his heel only to be confronted by Reggie Purdue, one eyebrow raised high above one dark eye. "You lost, boy?" Colton swallowed hard, "I uh. . .just wanted a word with the captain, that's all." "Is that so? It would appear that any words you want with Captain Skinner will have to wait for the morning. He seems to be otherwise engaged at the moment. Or didn't you notice?" "I noticed." Tom snarled before he thought better of it. "I'd watch myself, boy," Purdue warned. "I wouldn't want to be the man who caused any harm to come to Fox Mulder. That would make Captain Skinner one deadly mean son-of-a-bitch, if you get my drift." "I get it." Colton's eyes narrowed as another deep, rich laugh erupted from behind the closed bedroom door. "I'm glad to hear it. That cabin boy makes the captain happier than I've ever seen him. I wouldn't take kindly to anyone ruining that for him. So why don't you get your worthless carcass out of here now. You may have the captain fooled with your consummate pandering but I'm an old, battered sea-dog and I've got my eye on you, boy." Tom Colton left the house, not bothering to make any promises he had no intention of keeping. * * * Captain Skinner pulled his cabin boy a little tighter against his chest, as the big white stallion made its way over a fallen tree that was blocking the path to the southern most banana groves. The captain had been alerted to a problem there that needed his immediate attention. When delivering the message, Tom Colton had mentioned that the bananas were almost ready for harvest, and perhaps Fox would enjoy seeing the grove. Skinner, never wanting to be separated from Fox for any length of time, gladly took Tom's advice. Hence, the pretty cabin boy now occupied his usual spot on the saddle in front of him. They were riding along a steep ridge that had a magnificent view of the ocean hundreds of feet below. It was one of the captain's favorite spots. "Isn't it beautiful, Fox. You can see almost the whole southern half of the island from this spot." "It's incredible," Mulder breathed in that awe-struck tone of voice that Skinner had come to cherish. "Couldn't we go just a little closer to the edge? I want to see all of it." "No. This is close enough. The ground of the ledge is sandstone and a bit unstable. You'll have to contend yourself with the view from here. And if you ever sneak away from me and come to this place, don't you dare go any closer than this, brat." Mulder twisted in the saddle to give his captain an innocent look, "Me? Sneak away from you? Never!" "Right!" Skinner smiled as he playfully boxed Fox's ears. "Don't use those big eyes on me. You heard what I said. If I ever find out you went closer to the edge, you won't sit down for . . ." The captain's threat was interrupted by the sound of musket fire just beyond the next corpse of trees. Skinner quickly lifted the cabin boy down from his saddle. "Stay here, Fox. I'm going to investigate, and I don't want you in the line of fire. Don't move from this spot!" "Yes, sir." Mulder watched worriedly as his captain rode off in the direction of the disturbance. He bit on his bottom lip, wishing there were some way that he could protect his captain. "Hello, Fox." Mulder quickly turned to see Robert Modell standing a few yards behind him, smiling wolfishly. "What do you want, Modell?" "You need to learn some manners, boy. When you belong to me, we'll have to address that little character flaw." "I'll never belong to you, Modell." "So you say." Modell graced Mulder with another of his shark smiles. "You know, if I were you, I think I'd move over towards me a little closer. That snake at your feet looks mighty hungry." Mulder glanced down, his breath catching in his chest, to see a huge snake staring up at him only inches from his toes. Mulder started slowly backing away, but not wanting to put himself any closer to Modell, he went the other way, towards the edge of the cliff. "Come this way, Fox!" Modell urged, holding his hand out towards the spooked cabin boy. Mulder took a few more steps away, his eyes never leaving the deadly snake still so close to him. "Fox," Modell commanded. "Come this . . ." Suddenly, Tom Colton appeared out of the nearby trees, hurling himself at Fox. Mulder didn't even have time to look up before he went hurling over the side of the deadly drop-off. "I wanted him alive, Colton," Robert Modell seethed. "Well I didn't!" Tom snarled back. "We'd better get out of here. The captain is on his way back. And I for one, have no intention of letting him know who killed his troublesome little cabin boy." * * * "Fox?" Skinner stood up in his stirrups, looking around the area for his wayward charge. "Where the hell did that damned kid get off to now?" Skinner muttered in irritation as he dismounted, still visually searching the immediate area. "Fox! Where the hell are you, brat?" The captain placed both hands on his hips as he looked down at the soft ground. Then he saw the sand had been disturbed all the way up to the edge of the cliff. "No!" Skinner ran for the edge, remembering to stop a few feet away to drop to his belly and crawl over to the brink. He took a deep breath before gathering his courage to look below, fully expecting to see Fox lying broken and bloody on the perilous rocks below. He slowly opened his eyes to peer down at the sharp, deadly rocks and roaring surf that lay at the foot of the high cliff. He could see no sign of his beloved cabin boy. Then a sob of pure relief tore from his lips as he spied Fox lying on an overhang only a few yards below the lip of the ledge. The outcropping of rock was only wide enough to support the slender cabin boy but it had been enough to save his life. Now Skinner had to find a way to retrieve him. "What's happened, captain?" Skinner felt another wave of relief surge through his body as he recognized the voice of his first mate. Turning carefully on the unstable ledge, he saw Byers, Langly and Frohike looking back at him fearfully. "Fox has somehow fallen over the edge of the cliff but landed on a ledge. He's hurt but I can see his chest moving, so I know he's still alive. We have to find a way to bring him back up here as quickly as possible." The three men dismounted their horses, walking forward, careful not to get too close to the edge where their captain was so precariously perched. "We can use the horses to lower someone down to the overhang," Byers said, with his usual instant appraisal of a situation and its possible solution. "Then he can tie a second rope on Fox, allowing both to be pulled easily to the top. And please, Captain Skinner, do come away from that ledge." Skinner resisted the urge to just lay his head down in his arms and sob with joy. He had often times wondered what he would do without his sensible, intelligent, always-in-control first mate. Now, he owed the man his very life. The captain reluctantly took one last look at the unconscious cabin boy before slowly crawling backward away from the edge. The three seamen were already rigging ropes and tying knots, forming a two harnesses and tow ropes. "I'll go," Langly offered, anxious to once again have an opportuity to garner his captain's gratitude. He envisioned his future life abroad the Chauve Terreur to be one of ease and immense profit. "No," Skinner laid a hand on Langly's shoulder. "I appreiciate the offer, Ringo, but I have to go myself." "Mr. Langly is far lighter than you, captain." Byers pointed out in his most logical manner. "Perhaps you should consider . . ." "We have four horses, John. That should be sufficient to handle even my larger frame. Should Fox awaken, I don't want him to be more frightened than necessary. I have to be the one to go." "Yes, sir." Byers nodded at his captain, as he turned to his crewmen. "Ready gentlemen?" The four horses were hitched to the ropes, as the three men above guided the rope of the descending captain. Skinner slowly made his way down the cliff, trying not to dislodge the soft sand and shall which fell in a shower to cover the still body lying below. Transferring as little of his weight as possible to the narrow, volatile ledge, Skinner ran searching hands over the body of his cabin boy. "His heartbeat is strong. I don't feel any breaks. Must have hit his head when he landed." Skinner shouted back up. The captain swiftly secured the harness around Mulder's lifeless body. "Bring him up." Skinner watched with his heart in his throat as his cabin boy's limp body began its slow ascension to the solid ground a few yards above them. Once Mulder had been dragged over the edge, the captain felt the tug on his own harness and he too began his slow climb to the top. Pulled a few feet away from the lip of the cliff, and on solid ground once more, Skinner quickly shed his harness and ran to his cabin boy. He ran probing fingers over every inch of the boy under his hands, still finding only a few bruises and scrapes. Nothing more. He ran a hand through the thick dark hair, coming away this time with bloody fingers. "He's bleeding! Let's get him back to the house so Reggie can have a look at him." "Mother Maggie knows medicine." Frohike offered. Skinner looked up, a scowl covering his face, making the little man flinch back. Then the captain looked back down at the young man he held in his arms. "You're right, Frohike. Go get her." Mother Maggie Scully was a whirlwind of Irish love, fierce determination and an unwavering belief in her God. With her sweet face, black hair and snapping blue eyes, she took over the household, clucking over Fox until he was so spoiled that Skinner was sure he would be useless from that point on. She also sermonized the pirate captain on his wicked ways until he felt equally sure that he would have to take his saber to his own throat just to escape her pious tirade. But to Skinner's amazement, she showed Reggie Purdue only the upmost respect. Reggie refused to share with Walter his secret for winning over the zealous sister. Mother Maggie stayed at the main house for one full week. It was the longest week of Captain Skinner's life since the good sister had unequivocally forbidden the captain to sleep in his own bedchamber. He missed his cabin boy with an ache in his heart that was almost unbearable. Finally Mother Maggie took her leave, and the whole house breathed a sigh of relief. Not to be rid of the sweet, soft-spoken missionary, but because during her stay the captain had turned into a short-tempered, mean-spirited, intolerant tyrant. * * * Mulder awoke one sunny morning two weeks after his accident feeling almost as good as new. Part of the reason could have been the wholly wonderful feel of the captain's lips on the back of his neck. Mulder smiled up at his captain. "Good morning, sir." "Good morning yourself, brat." Skinner kissed his lips. "Are you feeling better today?" "Yes, sir. I'm feeling like my old self again." "Now I really have cause to worry." Mulder rolled his eyes at the captain, earning a sharp bark of laughter and another kiss. "Yes, I can see you're back to normal, brat. You're a very lucky young man." "Yes I am." Mulder leaned up to place his lips firmly on the captain's, deepening the kiss until he felt Skinner's breath grown rough and ragged in his chest. The captain pulled away with a groan. "We don't have time for that, brat, I have to go with the plantation overseer to inspect some sugar cane fields this morning. I've put it off far too long but now that you're mended, I have little choice but to see to my responsibilities." "I'm sorry that I've kept you from your duties, captain." "I have no regrets, Fox. I know what is most important to my heart." Another soft, loving kiss on Mulder's willing lips. "But, I want you to stay here and rest all day. No running off to investigate anything. I don't care if the Almighty himself comes to impart Commandments eleven through twenty, I want you to tell him that you have to . Am I clear?" Mulder rolled his eyes, "Yes, sir." "I'd watch that attitude, brat, you bottom wasn't injured in the fall. I won't hesitate to take my hand to it." "Yes, sir." Mulder chanced a glance up through his lashes. A look he had learned was almost impossible for his captain to resist. That and a pouting lip could get him almost anything. Almost. "Forget it. You stay here - all day." "Oh, all right!" Mulder snuggled down further into the warm blankets. Skinner chuckled, kissing him yet again. "I'll be back for dinner." He tapped Mulder on the end of his nose, "Be good." Mulder rolled his eyes again. "I'm twenty-three years old, you don't have to remind me to behave like I'm some little kid." "Have you ever noticed, Fox, that you have to remind people quite frequently that you're twenty-three? Do you think there might be a reason for that?' Mulder rolled his eyes once more, earning himself a sharp slap to his blanket-covered bottom and a quick departing kiss. Mulder awoke for the second time knowing that he was not alone in the room. He peaked out from under his blankets, wondering who had come to wake him. "Hello, pretty boy." "Lucius?" Lucius Hartwell stood smiling at him from the end of the bed. Tall, dark, exquisitely handsome and a genuine vampire. One who was willing to talk at length about his blood-sucking existence or non-existence whichever way you chose to look at it. It was the ultimate siren song for Mulder. "None other, beautiful Fox. I have something I want to show you. Get dressed. Or not. Actually I kind of like that look on you." Mulder glanced down to where the blankets had fallen into his lap, leaving most of him bare to the vampire's leering gaze. He quickly pulled them up to cover himself. "I can't leave the house today. I promised the captain." "Oh, I see." Hartwell, long black cape flowing behind him, walked slowly around the room examining the assorted pieces of sculpture that the captain had accumulated on his many travels. Mulder didn't even want to think about how Skinner might have obtained the priceless items. "Too bad," Lucius turned to look at the cabin boy, a knowing smile gracing his beautiful face. "And here I was all ready to show you all the secrets of the vampires. But it you're not interested, well I'll just . . ." Hartwell started to wrap his cloak around his face. An sure sign, Mulder had learned, of his imminent departure. "No wait!" "I thought not." Lucius smiled at him again. "Get dressed, pretty boy." * * * Mulder squirmed in the saddle in front of Lucius. He felt uncomfortable being this close to the vampire. For one thing Lucius' body was cold. Really cold. And for another he wasn't the captain. Mulder just didn't understand why no one would trust him with his own horse. "Why are we riding a horse?" Mulder whined for at least the tenth time in the last hour. "Can't you fly? I thought you couldn't be out in the sunlight? Is it true that you are repelled by garlic? Where are we going? Are we going to get there soon? What do you have to show me?" "Stop!" Luscus Hartwell commanded, causing the cabin boy to flinch and stare back at him with wide, alarmed eyes. The vampire took, what for him, amounted to a deep, calming breath. "Enough already! You're driving me to put a stake through my own heart with your incessant questions. How does the captain put up with you every day?" "He finds my curiosity charming," Mulder pouted. Hartwell shook his head, "There is just no accounting for mortal taste. To answer your questions, we're riding a horse because, yes I can fly," he looked at the cabin boy pointedly. "But you can't." "Oh." Mulder nodded. "Sunlight doesn't bother me but garlic gives me indigestion. I'm taking you up into the mountains, and we should be there in about another hour. And you'll see what I have to show you when we get there. Now be quiet and stop believing all that malarkey you've heard about vampires. For the most part, we're just a bunch of nice, normal people." "You drink blood." Mulder felt compelled to point out, still sulking. "Yes, and your's is beginning to look mighty tasty to me." Mulder swallowed hard as he turned back around in the saddle, his eyes fixed firmly on the trail ahead. They reached the cave in the early afternoon. Although the opening itself was very small, the cave itself was huge, with several tunnels leading off into other directions. Lucius, with unerring night-vision took Mulder's hand, leading him down one of the darker passages. They passed several entrances to large caverns, finally stopping before a hole in the wall only about three feet high and four feet wide. Mulder leaned down to peer inside. "What it this? It's too dark, I can't see anything. Why did you bring me to see a hole in a cave wall?" He felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up and into the glittering blue eyes of the gorgeous vampire. Mulder felt his eyes glaze over as his mind turned to mush. Through a deep fog, he felt Lucius begin to unbutton his shirt. "I just wanted you to show you my bed, pretty Fox." * * * Captain Reggie Purdue entered the high mountain cave cautiously. He had found Fox missing from the captain's bedchamber while the blankets were still warm. Grabbing his trusty old razor strap, he headed out in search of the wayward cabin boy. He did not want Walter to come home and find Fox gone. He heard an all too familiar noise off to the right. He lifted the old lantern that he had found sitting at the mouth of the cavern, and carefully made his way down the stone passage. When the natural corridor ended in a large catacomb, Purdue drew his breath in sharply. Mulder was there with a man who was very familiar to Reggie. A man with super human strength who was holding the unresisting young cabin boy aloft, while his voracious, sucking mouth was firmly attached to Fox's exposed cock. "Put him down, Lucius." Lucius Hartwell reluctantly removed his lips from the gorgeous man's hard shaft. Fox groaned at the loss of the warm heat around his cock. "Ah, Reggie." The vampire whined. "He doesn't belong to you, he's Walter's boy." "But, he's so pretty . . ." "You owe me, Lucius and you know it." "You saved us from one little slaughter. One tiny mass extinction, and I hear about it for the rest of my life." "Gentleman John was going to burn you all to dust if I hadn't stopped him. I invited you to this island. I've kept Walter from knowing about you. You owe me. Now put him down." "Shit! How can you deny a man his very sustenance, Reggie?" "Don't even try that on me, Lucius. First of all, you don't drink blood because you have to, you drink it because you like to. And secondly, it didn't look like blood you were after this time." The vampire shrugged, "Potato - Potato. It's all about body fluids, Reggie." "Humph!" Reggie scowled at the handsome vampire. "You heard me, put him down, he's taken." "Jeez! You take all the fun out of being a vampire, Reg." Mulder came to his senses about half way down the mountain. He was once again sharing a horse, but this time he was draped over the saddle like a sack of meal. He looked up at his companion, only to wish he had stayed in his bedazzled state of mind a little while longer. Reggie looked furious. It was something Mulder had hoped to never see directed his way. "Uh . . .Reggie, could I get up now. I'm getting a little dizzy down here." "Shut up, Fox." Oo-ka-a-y. Mulder rode along for another twenty minutes, his stomach beginning to ache from its constant contact with the hard saddle. "Um . . .are you mad at me, Captain Purdue? Ouch!" A sharp smack landed on his upturned butt, stinging fiercely even through his heavy trousers. Well, that answered that question. Fox didn't try to ask anything else. Mulder's face flamed bright red as they rode into the yard of the main house, him still in his humiliating upside-down position over Reggie's lap. As soon as the animal stopped, he found himself unceremoniously flipped off to land on his backside on the hard ground. "Get your butt into the captain's study and wait for me." Reggie snarled as he handed the reins of the horse to a wide-eyed stableboy. Mulder didn't wait to be told again. He was sure any argument on his part would lead to very painful and public consequences he had no desire to face. He entered the all too familiar study, his stomach fluttering like a flock of gulls had somehow gotten inside him. He wasn't sure what to do. Reggie had never ordered him here before. He sat down in one of the leather chairs, his leg twitching nervously. His apprehension got the best of him, so he jumped to his feet to pace in front of the fireplace. The fireplace where he and the captain had shared such wonderful moments on so many occasions. He didn't want to think about that right now. He was not looking forward to facing Captain Skinner this evening. That was, of course, if he survived his upcoming meeting with Reggie Purdue. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the door finally opened. Reggie stepped into the room, the angry scowl still firmly on his face. He nailed Mulder with a quelling look. "Reg . . .Reggie?" Mulder swallowed hard, his face losing all color, as he saw the razor strap dangling from the big man's right hand. "You just couldn't do it, could you, boy? You just had to go and get yourself into trouble on my watch. Well, I don't take kindly to having to go traipsing all over this damned island looking for some aggravating, little brat-boy, that the captain, for some reason known only to himself, happens to value above everything else. Now you get your sweet, white ass bared. I've known since the minute I laid eyes on you that you were destined for a taste of my old razor strop." ‘Please, I can explain . . ." "You can explain it to the captain. You're going to still be standing over there in that corner showing off your sore backside when he gets home. I don't have a doubt in my mind he'll expect a full account of your actions then. Now get those pants down and lean up against the fireplace, boy." Seeing no way out, Mulder did as he was told. Feet apart for balance, placing his hands firmly on the mantel and leaning forward, his bared bottom presented itself up and out, ready for Reggie's unwanted attention. "It's been a while since I had to use this on anyone but I think you'll find I haven't lost my touch, little boy." And the strop slammed down on its intended target like a bolt of lightening from above. The bright, red welt that painted itself across Mulder's bottom burned like fire, and he felt tears spring to his eyes from that first stripe. The next eleven didn't get any better. In fact they got worse. That strap was so old and subtle that it wrapped itself around Mulder's butt like it had been made to fit him perfectly. Touching flame to all his most tender areas. He yelled, he pleaded, he begged Reggie to at least slow down a little but Captain Purdue was a man with a mission. A mission to turn one vexing little cabin boy into a very sorry young man. He accomplished his task long before he lay the old strop aside and helped the weeping cabin boy to his assigned corner, pants still around his ankles. It was well over two hours before Mulder heard the captain enter the main hall. He was exhausted from his stay in the corner but still not anxious to face Skinner. His whole body stiffened as he heard the door open behind him. He didn't dare turn around to look. He waited for whomever had come in to say something to him. Finally after several long, agonizing minutes he felt the captain's hand on his shoulder, turning him to face the disappointed brown eyes. Fox would have much preferred to see anger in those dark chocolate depths. "Reggie told me what happened." Mulder stared down at the floor but when he encountered the sight of his pants lying so shamefully around his ankles, he quickly looked back up. "I'm really sorry, sir." "I'm sure you are. Reggie can be hell with that old stop of his. I want you to come into dinner now, Fox. We'll address your disobedience after we've eaten." "I'm not hun. . ." "Don't even say it. You know I don't approve of you skipping meals. It's my guess that you haven't eaten all day. Am I correct?" Mulder nodded miserably. "Just as I thought. You will dress and go to the dining room immediately, Fox." Dinner was a disaster for Fox. Modell and Colton were there of course. Both smirking and trying every way possible to find out why their other three dinner companions were so unusually quiet and tense. Even baiting Captain Skinner about his cute little cabin boy had little or no effect this evening. In fact, the only words to leave the captain's mouth was a blatant threat that if Fox didn't stop pushing the food around his plate and eat, the captain would take care of the chore himself. Fox ate his dinner. The meal finally ended, and finding no information forthcoming from Skinner, Mulder or Purdue, the other two men were forced to retire to their respective quarters. Once they had left the dining room, the axe fell for Mulder. "Fox, you are to go to my chambers and put on your nightshirt. Then you are to walk down to the stables . . ." "In my nightshirt, sir?" Mulder asked, aghast. "Yes, in nothing but your nightshirt. When you get there you are to tell the stable master to prepare a sturdy birchrod for my use." "Birchrod, sir?" Mulder asked, swallowing hard. He didn't know exactly what that was but by the look on Captain Purdue's face it couldn't bode well for himself. "Tell him it's to be used on your bare bottom, brat! He'll know just what to do. I want you to watch while he makes it, then I want you to bring it back here to me." "Yes, sir." Mulder walked quickly out of the room, lest he incite his captain's anger any further. "Surely you aren't going to birch that boy, Walter." Purdue glowered at Skinner. "You're the one who started oiling that razor strap the minute you laid eyes on him, and now you're defending him?" "I'm not defending him. I was mad at hell at him when I found him in that cave today, but I still think the birchrod is too much. He's a good boy, a bit wild, but still a good boy." "He'll be a better boy after he's danced to the tune of the birch. And," Skinner pointed out. "I can't see how you have any room to complain about it, you certainly laid into me enough times with one of those things." "That's different. He's sensitive." "He's a brat." Skinner corrected. Mulder watched miserably as the stable master, Carl Peterson tightly tied a piece of heavy hemp twine around the end of a bouquet of about a dozen slim, whippy switches. He had made Mulder pick out each switch himself, and then carefully cut it from a small tree that grew close to the side of the barn. The leaves had been removed but all of the small twigs and buds had been left in place on each of the switches. "Lift your nightshirt and bend over, Fox." Petersen commanded. "Wh . . .why?" "I have to make sure this fits your bottom correctly." Mulder squeezed his eyes shut as he turned to bend at the waist, raising his nightshirt to his waist. He shivered as the cool night air caressed his exposed skin. He flinched as he felt the birchrod touch him, its branches spreading out across his unprotected flesh. He looked over his shoulder to see Peterson added two more switches to one side of the bundle, then again measuring the revised implement against his condemned bottom. When Carl seemed satisfied with the ‘fit' he allowed Mulder to stand up again, the hem of his nightshirt falling to mid- calf. Peterson handed the finished birchrod to the hapless cabin boy. "Whoo-ee, this's gonna hurt like the devil, boy. You ever been birched before?" Mulder tried to take the bundle of switches, but Peterson wasn't ready to relinquish his hold just yet. "No, sir." Mulder tugged on the end of the bundle, but the stable master only smirked at him, not letting go. "Well let me tell you, it's a hundred times worse than a regular switching. See all those whippy little twigs, they're going to fan out over your bare rump and sting every inch of it with every stroke. You'll feel like a whole hive of jungle bees is stinging your defenseless butt. Yep, I sure wouldn't want to be you tonight. You'll be lucky if you can sit down this time next month, kid." Mulder gave a yank on the hated birchrod, finally successful in his efforts to take possession of the ghastly thing. He turned quickly on his heel, the stable master's laughter following him out of the barn. When he arrived back at the house, he handed the birchrod to the captain, who examined it carefully while Reggie glared at him from across the table. Skinner handed it back to Mulder. "That should do the job very nicely. You will go to my study, Fox. I want to find you bent over my desk, butt high in the air. This birchrod should be lying right in front of your nose. I want your eyes on it and nothing else until I come in to deliver your punishment. I think it will help you concentrate on why you find yourself in this unfortunate situation yet again." Mulder trudged to the study, his heart downcast. He quickly leaned across the big gleaming desk, the wood cool against his chest even through the heavy cotton of his nightshirt. He moved his legs apart to better support his weight, then leaned on his elbows, his eyes on the birch-rod lying on the desk in front of him. It certainly was a vicious looking thing. Long, springy switches with tiny buds and twigs sticking out in every direction. He was sure he could almost feel how they would bite into his unprotected and so recently strapped flesh. His buttocks contracted spasmodically at the very thought. He felt like he had been lying here for hours, studiously examining every inch of the hated birch as the cool night air wafted ominously up under his bed clothing to tickle his naked backside. He felt gooseflesh prickle his exposed skin but felt assured that by the time this night was over the least of his worries would be a cold butt. He swallowed hard as he heard the study door open behind him. Big blunt fingers wrapped themselves around the tail of his nightshirt, then his flesh was slowly exposed as his only garment was folded up and over until it rested midway up his back. He shivered as his bared, already sore bottom now lie exposed and completely vulnerable to his captain's discretion There was no sound for quite some time as Mulder felt his captain's eyes inspecting his humiliating display. He felt a big calloused hand caress his red butt. "Do you know why you're being punished, Fox?" "I went with Lucius Hartwell to the vampire cave?" Fox asked. "There are no such things as vampires, Fox." "Yes, there are. Lucius is a . . ." "Are we going to go through this again? I won't tolerate you making up stories, brat. Now spread you legs further apart. I want these switches to be able to bite every inch of this deserving backside of yours. Lay your head in your arms and stick you butt right out where I can get to it. I want a nice open field for my work." Mulder heard a menacing swish behind him and then his entire bottom was simultaneously stung by the pliant little switches. Skinner watched as Mulder shifted his weight from foot to foot, his bottom wiggling frantically, already well covered with stinging welts. He raised the birch high above his left shoulder, keeping his eye on his quivering target. The birch exploded once more across the hapless bottom. Each of the many switches fanning out to bite it's own small portion of unprotected skin. "What else did you do, cabin boy?" "That . . .that's all I did, sir, honestly." Mulder gasped, gripping the edge of the desk harder, closing his eyes. His bottom felt like a huge, defenseless target, high in the air, wiggling frantically, all but begging for another visit from the terrible birch. The third lash landed just a little lower, the supple switches reaching down to sting Fox's tender upper thighs. This stroke forced a cry of tortured distress from the wretched cabin boy. "You risked your life, Fox. You aren't to go blundering around this island by yourself. It's too dangerous. Don't do it again." "I won't! I won't! Oh please, sir," Mulder sobbed. "That hurts so much!" "Yes, I'm sure it does. Perhaps next time you will think about the consequences before lying to me. And just maybe, before taking off on some ill-conceived adventure, you'll remember just how much your backside is hurting right now." "I will, sir. I promise." The cabin boy sobbed contritely. He raised the bundle of switches high above the doomed bottom. Mulder let loose with a heart-wrenching sob as the angry little twigs found their way into the deep, open crevice that separated his now throbbing bottom cheeks. Skinner studied the withering bottom so helplessly presented for further chastisement. What had once been smooth skin was now mottled scarlet, overlaid with thin welts and tiny blisters formed by the birchrod's buds and twigs, most of which now lay on the floor around Fox's feet. He had planned to give Fox six but perhaps one more would be enough. "Hold on tight, brat. Last stroke." Skinner waited a few minutes for the dancing bottom to settle, the long legs to resume their overstretched placement. The captain brought the instrument of torture back, putting all his considerable weight behind this final stroke. The effect was instantaneous and wholly predictable. Fox's back arched as his hips jumped up off the desk, butt muscles flexing and releasing in a most dramatic way. There was not an inch of skin on the furiously bouncing butt that had not been turned an angry, blazing red. It was an impressively punished bottom. Fox's scream of pure torment brought Reggie Purdue racing into the study. His eyes searching for the young man who had screamed so agonizingly. He stopped short at the sight of the tortured bottom still dancing wildly across the desk. It's unfortunate owner sobbing between hitching breathes. "Why did you whip him so hard? I heard him yelling clear out in the kitchen!" Reggie hissed angrily. "You know why! He risked his life again today! What if you hadn't found him in time? And besides he lied to me to escape punishment." "Well, I did find him in time, didn't I? And I find it hard to believe that Fox lied to you. What did he say?" "He said that a vampire took him to that cave!" "So?" "There are no such things as vampires!" Skinner declared stubbornly, throwing down the birch, suddenly not liking the feel of the thing in his hand. "Why? Because the all-wise Walter Skinner says there are no such creatures, so that just makes it so. I've never seen this boy lie about anything. You're a fool, just like Mother Maggie said you were. I'm beginning to wonder if you even deserve someone like Fox." Reggie helped Fox to his feet, cooing over him shamelessly while his former first mate looked on in shock. Who would have ever thought that Reggie Purdue, Black Scourge of the South Seas, would go soft over an exasperating, doe-eyed cabin boy. Skinner still stood looking at the door after the two had left. He suddenly felt lost and very empty inside. * * * Mulder lay forlornly on his stomach on the bunk in the captain's cabin abroad the Chauve Terreur. He had rejected the comfort that Captain Skinner had tried to offer to him once Reggie had carefully tucked him face-down into his bed. Captain Purdue had all but pushed Skinner out of his own bedchamber, the older man's face a mask of indignant rage. For a moment, Fox was fearful that Purdue was angry with him again, but then had relaxed as he realized those black eyes were spitting fire only at Captain Skinner Mulder had waited until the older man had gone to get some salve before sneaking out of the house and painfully making his way to the anchored ship to hide "Feeling a might sorry for yourself there, boy-o?" Mulder lifted a tear-streaked face to see Stubby sitting on the end of his bed, smoking an intricately carved teakwood pipe. He was a small man, his skin weathered and wrinkled from too many days spent in the wind and weather. But he had the brightest, bluest eyes Mulder had ever seen on a man, living or dead. "Maybe I have good reason." Mulder told the ghost sullenly, burying his face back into the comfort of the tear stained pillow. "Because of that red butt. Don't look like much to me." Stubby stared intently at the punished bottom that Fox had bared because he couldn't stand the feel of his trousers against his raw skin. "Well it is! And I didn't deserve it, either." "Funny, I been sailin' on this ship with Captain Skinner for five years now, and I ain't never seen him do the first thing that I considered to be unfair or dishonorable. And now here you are telling me that the man just turned you upside down and whipped your tail for no good reason. Imagine that?" He thought I lied to him. I told him about the vampire and he didn't believe me so . . .so he whipped me with . . .a bunch of sticks." "With huh? More than one, you say? He must have been right angry with you. And just because you saw a vampire that he didn't see?" "Well yeah, and I think he's still angry about his gold, too." "Gold is it? Well now, some men can lose themselves to the thought of gold. I take it you have gold and your captain wants it for himself then?" "No, he wouldn't do that!" Mulder shook his head adamantly. "And besides I don't have any gold. I was an indentured servant working in a counting house. I won't have any money for four more years and then I have to save enough to send for my sister," Mulder's head shot up from the pillow. "Oh shit! I hadn't even thought of Samantha. I have to escape from Captain Skinner. If I don't get a job, I'll never have enough money to get Sam out of that orphanage!" "I thought you said you found some gold?" "Well I did," Mulder was beginning to wonder if Stubby was just a little slow. "I found a whole bunch of treasure but it wasn't mine or anything. It belonged to the leprechauns, or so they said. I gave it to Mother Maggie and the Sanctimonious Sisters." "And . . .?" "Well, I think the leprechauns lied to me. The gold belonged to Captain Skinner. It was his ill-gotten gains. It was an honest mistake on my part." "You gave away the man's gold, boy-o?" Stubby gave a low whistle. "Just where do the vampires come into this story." "Oh that was today. I followed one to his lair. Turned out he didn't have anything interesting to show me. He just wanted to get in my pants. At least that's what Reggie said." "That Purdue is a smart one. I'd listen to him if I were you. So you've been a busy boy, what with vampires and giving away your captain's gold and all. Why in my day you wouldn't have been able to walk after a trick like that, much less run off to hide from your captain. What's your plan on that anyway?" "Plan?" Mulder peaked up at the man as he patiently sat puffing on his pipe. "You know – plan? Here you are hiding out in a deserted ship, no food, no fresh water. You gonna' just lay here until you die or are you hopin' Captain Skinner will come looking for you?" "Shit no! He doesn't like it when I try to escape. I'd get another whipping for sure!" "So what are you going to do?" "Well," Mulder bit his bottom lip thoughtfully. "I suppose I could wait for nightfall and then work my way over to the other side of the island where the single crewmen live. I have friends there. Maybe Frohike would hide me until I could flag down a passing ship." "Good plan! Course there's nothing between here and there but dense jungle. You've done a lot of hiking in the jungle, have you, boy-o?" "Well no," Mulder admitted reluctantly. "The only jungle I've ever seen, outside of a book, has been this one, and the captain always takes me sightseeing on his horse. He won't even let me get down much. He says he's protecting the snakes from my big feet." Stubby chuckled, "So maybe you should come up with another plan. In the mean time, why don't you tell me what ever happened to that low-down, bottom-dwelling scoundrel you had Captain Skinner pull off that raft?" Mulder sighed forlornly, "I wish I'd known just what a useless piece of scum he was before we picked him up. I would have just pretended I never saw that raft." Stubby looked skeptical of that arguable statement but nodded anyway. "Giving you trouble, is he?" "He people." "Good way to get the wind knocked out of your sails, if you ask me. Not a pirate worth his salt who won't fight back when he's been provoked. Come to think of it, a lot of them do the provoking themselves. Saves time." "No," Mulder shook his head, trying to find the right words to convey Modell's unnatural talent. "He doesn't really shove people physically. He does it with his mind. He can make most men do things or see things that aren't really there. It's very strange. I'm just glad his powers don't seem to work on the captain when it comes to me." "Do you think he might be responsible for you seeing leprechauns and such, boy-o?" Mulder slowly raised his head, his eyes opening wide as realization stuck for the first time. "I don't know. Maybe. I'm fairly certain the vampires are real but now that you mention it, and . . .he could have been responsible for that sea serpent, too! The thing never came out again after I almost sunk our ship." Stubby grimaced, "Was that you who almost sunk our ship? I thought it was an rival pirate ship. Gentleman John or someone like him." "No, it was just me." Mulder sighed heavily. "And now that I think about it, he probably made me see the big snake so I'd fall over the edge of that cliff, too. That really upset the captain." "Blimey, boy-o! You're a pack of trouble!" "Yeah." Mulder suddenly eyed his companion suspiciously. "And what about you? Are you . . .?" Stubby waved his hands in a dismissive manner, "Not me, boy-o! I'm as real as you are. Most people just don't want to see me. It's that way with your captain. I'm thinking it's the reason he punished you for seeing the leprechauns. You're not afraid to look beyond the commonplace and it scares the man who loves you near to death." "I don't see why? You're not going to hurt me," Mulder narrowed his eyes at the ghost. "Are you?" Stubby cackled, "Course not! But there are things out there that will hurt you, and this Modell might just be one of them. You need to get your guard up, cabin boy. It's going to be up to you to protect yourself and your captain. Speaking of which, if I were you, I'd be getting that bare bottom of yours under wraps as quick as possible. He's here." Mulder scrambled off the bed, pulling up his pants, as his horrified eyes flew to the doorway where Captain Skinner stood, arms crossed over his chest, eyes snapping black with worry turned to pure anger. * * * Skinner sat in the most shadowed corner of the garden watching as his cabin boy spent his afternoon in the stocks. Fox had been too shocked and embarrassed to speak as his head and wrists had been incased between the two heavy pieces of wood, his naked body on full and glorious display for anyone interested in the view. And there had been a lot of interest. Skinner had discretely shooed away those who would have done more than gently caress the expanse of beautiful, bronzed skin that was made available by the cabin boy's unfortunate predicament. At first Fox had squirmed under their groping hands, but now he seemed to have lost the energy to care. For his part, the captain had taken no chances this time. He had never left his cool, shaded corner as he stood diligent watch over his suffering charge, approaching the brat frequently, forcing him to drink dipper after dipper of water from the bucket that sat at the captain's feet. Even with that precaution, Fox now stood swaying with exhaustion and heat. It would appear the lesson had been learned. Time to go inside for some rest and a much needed washing. The captain was looking forward most anxiously to giving his pretty Fox that bath. As Skinner started to rise from his chair, he saw Tom Colton enter the garden, his attention completely on the chastened cabin boy. The crewman stopped less than two feet from where Fox stood oblivious. Unaware of anything but his own misery. "Did you need something, Tom?" Skinner's eyed him as the man flinched guiltily when his captain suddenly appeared from his well-hidden guard post. "Uh . . .no, I just wanted to make sure he was all right, that's all. Maybe give him some water or something." Skinner relaxed, smiling at one of his most reliable men. "I'm sorry, Tom. The way you were creeping up on him and the expression I thought I saw on your face . . ." Skinner chuckled self-consciously. "I guess I've been out here too long myself." "Are you going to whip him?" Had Skinner been looking at the man's face he would have seen, not concern, but spite there. "You needn't worry about him, Tom. I had to punish him for running away and hiding on the ship like that. I was nearly out of my mind with worry, and I was sure poor Reggie was going to have heart failure when we found him missing from my room. But he's had enough I think. I'm going to take him up for a bath and a nap before dinner." "Oh." Tom hid his disappointment from his captain by staring at the wilting man in the stocks. "He seems more trouble than he's worth, Captain Skinner. There are those who would serve you willingly." Colton looked over to meet Skinner's eyes. "Men who would consider it an honor." Skinner chuckled as he released his cabin boy, scooping the exhausted young man up into his protective arms. "The trouble's half the fun, Tom. But he has to learn that I'm not going to tolerate him running away from me. There's too much danger in that. I'll not tolerate him risking his life. Now if you'll excuse us." Colton watched jealously as Skinner easily carried the cabin boy back into the house, Fox's arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Mulder was aware that he was finally being taken out of the hot, tropical sun. He was also aware that his savior was the man who had punished him to begin with. He didn't care. His ears were still ringing and his bones felt like they had turned to melted wax, unable to support his weight even if he had been threatened with death to make it otherwise. His eyes opened wide as his hot skin was immersed in cool bath water. Gentle hands began to sponge the soothing liquid up over his chest and shoulders. "Sh-h-h-h, my beauty, you're hot and tired. Let me take care of you now." "But you're angry with me." "No, I angry with you. My island is beautiful but can also be deadly, Fox. Even if you discount all the wild animals that make their home in the jungle, most of the human inhabitants are pirates or former pirates. Living here either because they became too old for the vigorous life at sea or because the bounty on their heads became too high to risk showing their faces anywhere else. They might not know who you belong to, Fox. They would see only a beautiful boy just ripe for the picking. I can't allow you to be hurt." Skinner lifted the cabin boy's chin until he could pin him with his gaze. "If you leave this house without my permission again, I'll make you rue the day you were born. Don't doubt me on this, my love, I'm deadly serious." "Yes, sir." After Skinner had meticulously washed every inch of his cabin boy's soft wet skin - several times - he helped the drowsing man out of the tub, toweled him dry and tucked him between cool, clean sheets. "Now, sweetheart, I'm going down to the kitchen to get you something to drink. Maybe some nice cold lemonade, how does that sound? I'll be back in a few minutes. Try to stay awake, you need some fluids in you." "Yes, sir." Mulder mumbled even as his eyes began to slide closed. He was startled only a few seconds later by a rough hand shaking him awake. Before he could turn to see why the captain was angry with him again, two pairs of coarse hands bound and gagged him. He was flipped over in the bed to face a tall, ordinary looking man, dressed in the garb of a pirate. Two other men held Mulder firmly to the bed. "Hello, Fox." The man's smooth, gentle voice washed over the cabin boy sending chills up his spine. The pirate was so soft-spoken Mulder could hardly hear him, but his gut response to the deceptively beguiling voice was pure terror. "My name is John Lee Roche, Gentleman John to my friends, and you and I are going to become very close friends. You aren't as young as I usually prefer. What are you sixteen, seventeen at the most?" Mulder struggled in his bonds, shaking his head at the monster who stood in front of him, his angry denials coming out as nothing more than incoherent grunts from behind his gag. "It doesn't matter, little boy. Your beauty should more than make up for your advanced years. Bring him along, men, the Severed Heart sails with the tide." END 2/4 The Cabin Boy - Part 3/4 By: DiAnn As the pirates approached to do their evil captain's bidding, Gentleman John raised his hand to halt them. "One last thing before you take him to the ship," the evil pirate captain stood staring down at his bound and gagged prey for a long moment before taking a small, wickedly sharp dagger from his belt. Mulder's breath caught in his throat as he saw the look of pure insanity in the man's cold eyes. The sharp blade hesitated over Fox's throat, the cabin boy gasped, never letting the dagger out of his sight. He closed his eyes tightly when the deadly weapon moved down to touch his chest above his wildly-beating heart. Mulder could feel the sudden sting as the razor-sharp blade pricked his skin through his nightshirt, he could smell the coppery tang of his own blood as it stained the fabric. Mulder heard Roche laugh softly and quickly opened his eyes, more afraid of what he couldn't see than what he might. The cold-blooded smile stayed on Roche's face as he turned back to his crewmen, "Now my precious cargo is ready to go back to the ship. I want to leave a little message in blood for Captain Skinner. After all, he should know who now owns his most priceless treasure." One of the filthy pirates threw Mulder over his broad shoulder, following his equally unwashed cohort out the bedroom window. He skittered easily down the rope to the ground like the bilge rat he was. The two pirates risked one quick look back up at the window before slinking off into the underbrush. Gentleman John turned back to the bed so recently occupied by his new cabin boy. The pirate reached into his pocket extracting a several items and let them flutter onto the bed. He once more removed his dagger, stabbing it viciously through the contents that awaited Captain Skinner on Fox's pillow. * * * "Captain Skinner! Captain Skinner!" Skinner turned from where he was overseeing the cook as he prepared a tray for Mulder, to see Langly running in through the front door, followed closely by Frohike and First Mate Byers. "What? What's happened?" The captain asked, alarm beginning to churn like bilge in his belly. "Is everything all right in here?" Frohike asked as he placed his hands on his knees, bending as he gasped for breath. "Why? What's going on?" "All the men posted to look-out duty have disappeared," Byers stated gravely. "Where's Fox?" "No!" Skinner ran for the stairs, the other three men hot on his heels. They entered the room to find the sheer, white curtains fluttering in the cool evening breeze, the bed empty. "No-o-o-o-o!" Skinner fell to his knees beside the bed, tears streaming unheeded down his face as he tore the dagger from his cabin boy's pillow and hurled it across the room. His fist closed around the three bloody items left there for him. The captain recognized the rough-cut heart as being a part of Fox's nightshirt. It had traces of wet, sticky blood still clinging to the edges. "I've heard Gentleman John cuts a heart like that from the shirts of the people he kills," Frohike offered, gaining himself a glare from both Langly and Byers. "Sir?" Byers lay a gentle hand on the captain's quaking shoulder. "I've got men searching the island. Maybe Gentleman John hasn't had time to get Fox aboard his ship yet." Skinner struggled to his feet. "You're right, I have to go look for him. I have to stop that madman from taking Fox from the island." "Well let's get going," Langly shouted, already half way out the door, the other men right behind him. * * * "I'm tellin' ya', Clyde, I'm thinkin' I hear somethin'." "It's just yer imagination again, Henry. You'd best be keepin' yer mind on hauling that pretty piece o' tail you got slung over yer shoulder back to the ship for the cap'n, and let me do the thinkin' fer the both of us." "Well, you just be watchin' my back, matey. I don't want to have to be explainin' to the cap'n how we lost this here boy for 'em. Think he'll be willin' to share this beauty with the rest o' us?" Henry snickered lustfully, waiting for an equally lurid remark from his friend. "Clyde? Clyde you still with me, matey?" Henry slowly turned around, his shipmate nowhere to be seen. "Clyde?" Henry whispered fiercely. "This ain't no time to be playin' one of yer little jokes." Mulder struggled over the big man's shoulder, grunting through his gag. "You jest shut yer mouth, boy. I got to get you back to the ship afore somethin' else happens!" Henry turned to flee, only to have his face crushed up against a solid brick wall. He yelped, stepping back to look up into one of the most handsome faces he'd ever seen. "Going somewhere?" The beautiful man asked as Henry stared into startling green eyes. The pirate felt the world slip away as he stood mesmerized, frozen in place. Lucius Hartwell stood waiting for Captain Skinner to show up. He had brought the missing Clyde to join his friend. Now they both stood dazed, waiting for their next command from the vampire. "Come on, Skinner. I don't have all night you know." Lucius tapped his foot impatiently, peering off into the underbrush. Mulder abruptly shifted his weight from left to right, all but toppling poor Henry, the cabin boy growling angrily from behind his gag. "Fox, by all that's holy, will you just shut up! It has to be this way." Mulder growled again, fighting to break free from the spellbound pirate's death grip on his thighs. "Henry, give him a good smack. I swear that boy could drive a saint to the rum barrel." Henry, ever the compliant minion, reached up to deliver two hard swats to the nightshirt covered bottom that lay so conveniently over his shoulder. Mulder yelped from behind his gag. Luscus walked around, taking Mulder's face between his hands, locking their eyes together. "Just calm down, Fox. I'm not going to hurt Captain Skinner. Believe me, I have a very different plan. Now you're going to be very quiet. No sound, no struggles, completely calm. Do you understand?" Mulder nodded his head at the vampire, his eyes wide and glazed. "Good, my beauty. I swear, without my special powers, I'd have to kill you just to keep my sanity. I gain more respect for Captain Skinner's remarkable tolerance every time I kidnap you." Luscus paced in small circles as he listened with heightened senses for the approaching search party. The vampire's head snapped us as the first sound of Skinner's commanding voice reached their little glade. Luscus took off his long black, silk cape, folding it neatly and hiding it in some nearby shrubbery. He waited until the searching pirates were almost upon them before springing into action. "Sorry about this, Fox, but it's all for a good cause." The vampire leaped from the ground with an astounding show of agility to deliver a devastating kick to Henry's brutish face. The surprised pirate went down with a loud grunt, the burden he had draped over his shoulder flying through the air to land in a heap at the foot of a giant palm. Lucius pivoted on one foot, coming around to deliver an equally stunning blow to Clyde's oft-broken snout. The man screamed as blood poured from his nose, falling to his knees at the vampire's feet. "Sorry about this boys, but you really should have left your hands off the cabin boy. It's not like Captain Skinner would have let you live anyway." The two pirates never knew what hit them as the vampire made a quick, bloody end to their worthless lives. Skinner and his search party came upon the scene just as Lucius finished up with the unfortunate Clyde. The relieved captain quickly took in that the man who had rescued Fox didn't need any assistance, and ran to scoop his unconscious cabin boy up into his arms. "We have to get Fox inside." Skinner said as he turned to Lucius, "I don't know who you are, friend, but would you be so kind as to accompany me back to the main house. I insist on an opportunity to thank you properly after I've seen to Fox." "It would be my pleasure, sir." * * * Captain Skinner sat by his cabin boy's bedside throughout the night. Reggie found him there the next morning, shooing him away to rest and have some breakfast. Skinner stumbled downstairs to find Byers, Langly, Frohike and Lucius Hartwell all sitting at the big table. Only Lucius rose respectfully to his feet as the captain approached. Walter shook the vampire's hand forcefully, "I can't thank you enough. Please tell me what you desire as your reward for saving Fox? Whatever it is, it's yours." "There's no reward needed, sir. It was my pleasure." Lucius managed to simulate a shy blush as he sat back down to further push the food around his untouched plate. "Nonsense, you must think of something. In the meantime, tell me how you came to be on my island. You weren't being held captive on the Severed Heart were you?" "No, sir," Lucius assured. "I've been on your beautiful island for quite some time. I arrived while you were at sea." "Humph!" Reggie came into the room, bearing a tray to take up to Fox. He glowered at Lucius, who gave him an innocent smile in return. Skinner rose from his chair, "Is that for Fox, Reggie? I'll take it up to him." "No you won't! You'll sit right down there and eat your breakfast." Skinner quickly sat back down, picking up his fork. "By the way, Reggie, did you notice those little, black pellets laying all over the white rugs in the front hall? What is that?" "My guess, Captain Skinner, is that those would be bat droppings." Reggie spared another chiding look for Lucius, who had suddenly become fascinated by the kiwi fruit resting on his plate. "Did we let a bat in the house last night?" Skinner inquired, confusion over Reggie's attitude evident on his face. "No Walter, didn't. It was more a matter of someone inviting it in." The captain's other eyebrow shot up onto his forehead. "Invited a bat into the house?" "I would my life on it," Reggie answered pointedly, gaining some satisfaction as he watched Lucius cringe. "Something else that's quite odd," Byers interjected. "We found all the watch guards packed in the outhouse together. Just standing there, shoulder to shoulder, staring at each other. It took us over an hour to convince them to come out. They kept saying they had to wait for permission. Quite odd indeed." Skinner's face became even more perplexed, "Did you question them?" "Yes," Byers frowned remembering the conversations. "They said they were to go into the outhouse and wait, but none of them could identify the person who had put this supposed," Byers ran a finger around his collar, noticeably uncomfortable with telling the captain what the guards had said. "This . . .uh, on them." "Now why do you think they would say that?" Frohike asked as he looked around the table wondering what the heck he was missing here. "Why indeed?" Reggie stared long and hard at Lucius, who had suddenly become enthralled with his sausage patties. "Uh, so captain," Lucius hurried to change the subject. "How is Fox this morning." "He's fine. He awakened soon after we arrived home last night. He's been sleeping since then. Mr. Hartwell, I don't have the words to thank you for what you did for me last night. If that evil old monster had gotten Fox aboard his ship I might not have ever seen him alive again." "It was nothing, Captain Skinner, really. I've grown very fond of Fox over the last few weeks." "You know my cabin boy?" "Everyone on the island knows him, sir. He's, uh, well a little nosey. It's hard to avoid him, even when one tries to do so." Skinner chuckled, "Yes, that's true I suppose. I find his curiosity and bizarre ideas quite charming." "Hum-m-m, so I've heard," Lucius mumbled as he examined the eggs on his plate, watching out of the corner of his eye as Reggie settled into a chair beside him. Just a little too close for comfort. "So where do you live, Lucius? You're not part of Mother Maggie's Holy Order are you." Reggie sprayed the sip of coffee he had just taken out of his nose as he sputtered and gagged dramatically. "No," Lucius glared at the older man. "Mother Maggie and I are not on speaking terms. In fact, she finds me quite repugnant." Skinner studied the snickering Reggie with interest. Perhaps the older man was finally reaching his senility. "She feels the same way about me, Mr. Hartwell. Since you don't seem to have found a permanent place on the island, would you consider staying here in the main house as my quest." Skinner held up his hand as it appeared that Reggie had something to say about that suggestion. "I insist." "And I accept, Captain Skinner, but just until I make some firm decisions about the future. I have some powerful longings that I plan to satisfy before I die." "Like that's some big worry," Reggie grumbled as he sipped as his coffee, his narrowed eyes never leaving the smiling vampire. "Well, unlike my grumpy former captain," Skinner shot Reggie another questioning look. "I think it's admirable for a young man to wish to pursue his deepest desires." "Just as long as the in question doesn't to suck the blood out of everyone else." Reggie growled. "Good morning, all." Modell strolled into the room, his usual smug smile firmly in place, "I'm surrounded by a bunch of early risers, I see." "That's it," Reggie threw down his napkin as his chair scrapped against the hardwood floor. "This gathering have turned into just a little more than I can take." "I'm here to stay," Hartwell hissed as Reggie rose. "What did you say to me?" Reggie leaned down to glower at the deceptively gorgeous vampire. "I'm sorry, Captain Purdue, I didn't realize I had to speak so loudly for you to hear. I'll keep your advanced age in mind the next time we converse. What I said was, 'Have a good day." Hartwell batted his long lashes at the irritated captain. "Humph!" Reggie huffed as he walked off in a snit. "I just don't know what's gotten into him today," Captain Skinner said as he watched his former mentor stomp out of the room. "I would think he's be grateful to you for saving Fox." "It's quite all right, captain. You've more than repaid me with your kind offer of hospitality until I get some other more permanent connections in place." "So you'll be staying with us? How wonderful," Modell leaned across the table, locking his eyes with those of the sublimely handsome young man. "You come to my room later tonight. You can't refuse my invitation." Lucius smiled, "And will you be offering refreshments, Mr. Modell? I often find myself quite famished during the evening hours." "Of course," Modell assured, his eyes running lustfully over the other man's body. "I'm sure I can satisfy all your hungers." "Yes," Lucius smiled broadly, "I do believe you can." Skinner shook his head, puzzling over this strange conversation taking place at his table, when he heard a sound at the doorway. He looked up to see Fox leaning heavily against the wood frame, something clutched in his hand. The captain rushed over, gathering the weakened man in his arms, helping him to sit at the table. "What is it, sweetheart? What are you doing out of bed?" "I found this on the table when I awakened. He has her." "Has who?" Skinner asked gently, as he petted Fox's thick, dark hair. Mulder raised his head as he opened his white-knuckled fist to reveal a sheet of paper. "It's . . ." Mulder swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. "He left a message for you." The captain took the offered scrap of paper with anxious hands. Skinner, I have your precious little boy and his baby sister, too. To the victor goes the spoils, old friend. Catch me if you can. Gentleman John Skinner's head snapped up. "You have a sister?" Mulder nodded his head sadly, "I left her in an orphanage in England until I could earn enough money to send for her." "Why didn't you tell me, Fox?" Mulder turned away from the hurt he saw in his captain's eyes, "You were being so nice to me, it wouldn't have been fair to further burden you with my problems. I was . . .I was planning to run away so I could earn enough for her passage. Then," Mulder looked up at Skinner through wet, spiky lashes. "After she was safely with me, I was hoping you would take me back." As Mulder broke down in heart-wrenching sobs, Skinner drew him into his arms, holding him tightly against his chest. "It wouldn't have worked, cabin boy. If you had escaped, I would have come after you with everything at my disposal. I could never let you go. And as for your sister, you had only to ask, and we would have gone to get her." "Now it's too late!" Mulder mourned into his captain's tear- soaked shoulder. "That devil has her, and I'll never see her again." "Gentleman John could be lying, Fox. We have no way to know if he really has your sister." "Ye . . .yes, we do." He opened his left fist to reveal a second cloth heart. This one had been carved from soft flannel covered in little pink roses. Skinner stared down at the cloth lying in his cabin boy's trembling hand, his eyes rising to meet Fox's. "It's hers," his cabin boy whispered as fresh tears filled his eyes. "It's Samantha's. I recognize it." Skinner pulled Fox back into his sheltering embrace, then raised his chin from where it rested on soft brown hair, "Mr. Byers, gather the crew, we sail with the tide." "I'm coming too." Reggie declared from his spot near the kitchen door. "Reggie . . ." Skinner began, his hand stroking Mulder's head soothingly. "Don't you 'Reggie' me, boy. I can still take you down a peg or two if I set my mind to it. I'm going with you, and that's final." "I'd like to sign on, as well." Lucius added, his eyes angry slits. Angry golden slits. A small fact Reggie realized that no one else seemed to notice. "Well, I won't be left behind." Reggie turned furious black eyes on Robert Modell causing the man to instinctively take a step back. "I don't think so," the older captain snarled through gritted teeth. "No," Lucius spoke up quickly. "I think we should allow Mr. Modell to accompany us on this voyage." The vampire smiled, his eyes riveted on the pulsing vein in Modell's neck. "I do believe Mr. Modell will prove to be most useful while we're at sea." * * * Skinner lay on his bed gently caressing his agitated cabin boy 's dark hair. Mulder was snuggled up as tightly against the bigger man's side as was physically possible, his head resting on the big man's chest. "You need to go to sleep now, sweetheart, the ship sails at first light." "Do you think he's . . .he's hurt her?" "Truth be known, I don't even think he has her, Fox. That man would lie to his own mother on her death bed. It's time you learned that not every one is to be trusted, my beauty." "I know that, it's just that . . ." Mulder was interrupted by a soft knock on the bed chamber door. Skinner quickly pulled the blanket up to cover his cabin boy's naked body. "Who is it?" The door opened to allow Lucius Hartwell to enter the room. Skinner felt his breath catch in his throat as the flickering candlelight caught the handsome plains of the man's face. "What is it, Mr. Hartwell? Has something happened?" "No," the vampire spoke softly as he moved closer, his eyes locking with Skinner's gaze. "But I think it's about to." "Lucius . . ." The vampire smiled as he shifted his gaze momentarily to the pretty cabin boy. As usual Fox fell under his spell almost immediately, his eyes taking on a unfocused glaze. "Just relax, my beauty. I won't hurt you or your handsome captain." "Mr. Hartwell, I . . ." "Lucius, captain," The vampire said in his black-satin voice. "You can call me Lucius. After all, we're about to become very close friends, you and I. Move over, Fox." Mulder scooted over, forcing Skinner to move closer to the edge of the bed. Lucius quickly stripped off his clothing, sliding into the bed beside the two men. The vampire immediately brought his hot, wet mouth to bear on Mulder's long, smooth throat. The cabin boy gasped as the world began to spin away. The vampire looked up at Skinner through thick, dark lashes, "Touch him, Walter. Let us make the pretty cabin boy wither with pleasure, and beg us for his release." Recognizing a truly inspired suggestion when he heard one, Skinner wrapped his big hand around Mulder's shaft, sending the cabin boy's hips arching up off the soft mattress. Moving his other hand down, he began to tease and stretch Fox's most sensitive opening. A hidden treasure that belonged to him alone. Mulder couldn't believe what was happening to him. He had never felt this much pleasure. Hands and lips on every part of his body. He would thrill to one sensation, only to have another, more intense touch wrench his attention to some other part of his overly- sensitized body. He opened his eyes to see his captain and Lucius Hartwell leaning across him devouring each other's mouths. And that seemed perfectly normal to his addled brain. They were both so beautiful. "Take him, my handsome captain. Show me how you make your cabin boy scream for you." Skinner quickly moved between Fox's legs, pulling at his hips until the ripe, round mounds of his bottom lay in the captain's lap. Wasting no further time, Walter slowly and carefully penetrated the cabin boy until he was fully seated inside his beautiful body. He watched as Lucius bent to take Fox's hard cock into his own mouth. These were the two most singularly gorgeous men Walter had ever seen - together they were breath-taking. The captain couldn't remember ever being this aroused, his head swimming with the sheer pleasure of it. Within moments Fox screamed, his eyes rolling back in his head as he collapsed onto his pillows. The contractions of his body, along with the incredible sight of the cabin boy's lustful face sent Skinner over the edge and into his own world of darkness. He awoke the next morning to find Reggie roughly shaking his shoulder. "Get up, Walter. Your ship is about to leave without its captain." "Wh . . .what happened?" Skinner looked down, relieved to see Fox's dark head resting comfortably on his chest. He kissed the younger man's temple, then gently disentangled himself from the still sleeping cabin boy to roll out of bed, standing stiffly. "I feel like I've been beaten. I ache all over." "Humph!" Reggie growled, as he bent to gently shake Mulder awake. "What's wrong with you?" Skinner asked. It seemed Reggie had spent most of his time in a fowl mood the last few days. "What's wrong with me? I'll tell you what's wrong with me, boy. There's bat dropping on the hearth rug. How do you explain that one, Walter Skinner?" The captain raised both eyebrows at the older man. He was at a complete loss as to why Reggie expected him to explain the sudden infestation of bats in the house. "Uh, I don't know, maybe there's a hole in the attic roof?" Skinner finally offered lamely. "If there's a hole anywhere, it's in your head, boy. Fox deserves better than you." "What?" Skinner was now completely baffled. What did Fox have to do with bats? "Reggie, I didn't purposely let a bat in here?" "Humph!" Reggie had finally gotten a sleepy-eyed Fox sitting upright in the bed. He turned to leave, not bothering to look at the captain. "You'd just best watch yourself, Walter, bats can weasel into places where no one else would dare to even try. Take care of your boy, the ship leaves in an hour." "No ?" Skinner muttered as he watched the older man stomp out of the room. * * * Get him the hell down from there! I swear we haven't been a sea an hour yet, and already I have to drag his ass down off that crow's nest." "He's looking for the Severed Heart," Frohike offered in Mulder's defense. "He's looking for another trip over that barrel," Skinner shaded his eyes as he looked up to the highest point of the main mast and his troublesome cabin boy. "I'll go talk to him," Lucius volunteered. Lucius put one foot into the rigging and then slithered up the ropes like a spider in a web. Skinner turned to his first mate awestruck. "Yes it's quite amazing," Byers offered. "I've never seen anyone who can climb a rigging like that boy, and he's amazingly strong, too." "Yeah, he's just a wonder to behold." Reggie grumbled sarcastically. "Jealous, old man?" Modell sneered from behind them. Reggie turned, placing a finger in the startled man's chest, jabbing harshly, "You stay away from me, and you stay away from the people I care about. I don't know what you are, but I've been around enough to recognize evil when I see it. Nothing would give me more pleasure than to chuck you back into the sea you came from, Modell." Robert Modell glared at the old captain with pure hatred. He just couldn't understand why this old sea-dog was immune to his powers. Seeing that he wasn't intimidating Purdue in the least, he turned sharply and headed for the other side of the ship. "Got a match on ya', boy?" Modell looked up to see a weather-beaten, old man standing at the railing beside him. The man looked to have been at sea for at least a hundred years, his skin brown as a berry, his face as wrinkled as a dried prune. He stood smirking at Modell, a carved teakwood pipe hanging lazily out of one corner of his mouth. "No, I don't." "Too bad, nothing like a good pipe full of tobacco to calm the nerves, sonny. My name's Stubby, by the way." "I don't care what your name is, get away from me." "You're in a right sour mood there, boy. Could it be that Captain Purdue has done figured you out?" Modell's head snapped up, "What do you mean by that, old man?" The ghost turned his head to look Modell in the eye. The younger man felt his blood turn to ice. "It's time you understood a thing or two, sonny boy. I don't want Fox to be seein' anything that ain't really there this trip. And that includes monsters, leprechauns, and anything else you might conjure up." "I . . .I don't know what you're talking about," Modell stuttered. The long-dead pirate suddenly disengaged his jaw to display a huge, gapping mall full of sharp, slimy teeth, his breath freezing the fear sweat on Modell's skin. Modell screamed in panic, turning to flee as he heard the old seaman cackling behind him. "Now what the hell got into him?" Skinner asked. "Has everyone on this ship gone crazy?" "Maybe he saw a sea serpent." Reggie suggested, his mouth turned up on one side. Skinner's left brow rose above his eye. "It might be best, Reggie, if you didn't spent quite so much time with Fox. I know he can be wonderful company but one needs to keep their wits about them while talking to him. That boy just doesn't see the world in quite the right way." "Like you do, you mean?" Reggie questioned. "Exactly." "I see. Well, I'll keep that in mind, Walter. Thank you for yet another of your written-in-stone pronouncements. I don't know what we would all do without you to give us the true as handed down by Walter Skinner." Skinner watched in utter bewilderment as Purdue stalked away, shaking his head in disgust. What the hell had gotten in to everyone today? Everyone knew that the things Fox talked about were just stories. A sign of an enchantingly overactive imagination. Didn't they? * * * "It's too soon to spot the Severed Heart, Fox." Lucius said softly as he clung to the ropes surrounding the crow's nest. "I've got to find her," Mulder looked into Lucius' stunning blue eyes, immediately feeling the world fall away around him. "I know you do, pretty boy, but right now you're scaring your captain and that won't bode well for you. Climb out of there, it's time to go back down." Mulder nodded, climbing out of his perch and into Lucius' waiting arms. The seamen below watched in stunned silence as Lucius wrapped one arm around Mulder's waist, and shimmied back down the rope, if anything even faster than he had gone up. "How does he do that?" Frohike whispered. "Do you mean how does he haul a man weighing at least seventeen stone down a rope with seemingly no effort, or how did he get Fox to willingly come out of that nest in less than two minutes?" Skinner asked, as he watched his unresisting cabin boy being carried down to the deck. "How come you're so strong?" Frohike demanded of Lucius the minute the man touched foot on deck. "Uh, it's a family trait." Lucius refused to meet the little man's inquisitive eyes as he handed Fox over to the captain. Captain Skinner immediately grabbed Fox's arm, turning him around to deliver several hard swats to his backside, as the cabin boy danced on the deck struggling in vain to maneuver his bottom out of harm's way. Smack! "I told you," Smack! Smack! Smack! "not to be," Smack! Smack! "climbing in that," Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! "rigging!" Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! The captain then pulled the thoroughly mortified cabin boy into a firm, secure hug. Mulder buried his flaming face against Skinner shoulder, unwilling to look into all the eyes that had just witnessed his public rebuke. Skinner held Fox away from him, staring into his red, embarrassed face. "Go to my cabin and take your usual position." "But . . ." The captain leaned in until his lips were touching Mulder's ear, his breath hot on the cabin boy's skin, "Or would you prefer to have your bare-bottomed spanking right here on deck where everyone can watch?" Mulder shook his head, turning to practically run below. "He just wanted to find his sister," Frohike reminded the captain sullenly. "And would you like a taste of my lash for insubordination as well?" Frohike swallowed hard as he also shook his head in the negative. "I thought not. This is a pirate vessel and I'm its captain. I will have my orders obeyed. BY EVERYONE!" "Yes, sir!" Frohike choked out between suddenly dry lips. When Skinner came down to his cabin about a half hour later he opened the door to find Fox standing with is nose in the corner. "Why are you still dressed?" Mulder didn't bother turning around, "I was hoping you would listen to reason. I need to be up on deck, looking for my sister." "So am I to understand that you plan to spend this entire voyage standing up on deck looking out to sea?" "The look-outs might miss sighting Gentleman John's ship." "And you think you won't miss seeing what experienced seamen cannot?" "Samantha's my responsibility." "As you are mine. And right now that means I'm going to warm your bottom for disobeying my direct order." Mulder bit down hard on his bottom lip. "I'm sorry, that wasn't my intention." "I know, sweetheart, but we're going into a very dangerous situation. Gentleman John is one of the most cold-blooded pirates I've ever known. I have to count on you and every man on this ship to follow my command without question. I can't allow you to disobey my orders in front of the other men, Fox." "I'm sorry, I did . . .didn't think." Fox said in a voice that was almost a sob. "Usually this type of disciplinary action would take place in full view of the crew as a deterrent to similar behavior, but considering your present state of anxiety, I won't do that." Skinner smiled as he saw Mulder's shoulders relax just a little. "We are, however, going to leave the cabin door open so that the men can hear each stroke to your bare backside, as well as your cries of repentance. And believe me, Fox, you will be crying before I'm finished with you." "Do you," Mulder took a deep shaky breath. "Do you have to leave the door open, sir?" "It's that or over the barrel, Fox. The men expect it. I may play favorites where you're concerned but I can't risk the respect of my men. That would be too dangerous for both of us. Remove your pants, sweetheart." Mulder felt sweat forming on his bottom lip as he carefully undid his pants, his heart sinking as he watched the captain swing the door fully open. He could hear the men talking up on deck. Soon they would hear much more than that from this cabin. Skinner sat down on a wooden stool, picking up a piece of smooth flat wood that he used to draw straight lines on his navigational maps. He smacked it against his hand making the cabin boy flinch at each loud swat. "Come here, boy, I don't have all day." Skinner barked, putting on a show for the men above. Mulder trudged over to his captain, getting there much to quickly to suit him. He felt himself being quickly pulled over hard, muscular knees, his bottom turned so conveniently upward. "I would suggest, brat," Skinner whispered so only he could hear. "That you allow the men to hear exactly how thoroughly I'm punishing you. I won't stop until you've convinced the crew that you are one very well-chastened young man." The captain rocked Mulder's body forward, raising his bottom another inch into the air. He rubbed an appreciative hand over the smooth, unmarked globes, causing a shudder to pass through Fox's waiting bottom. "For insubordination, Fox!' Skinner shouted as the piece of heavy wood came down with a resounding crack on the cabin boy's bare, defenseless bottom. "Ye-ouch!" Mulder screamed as a stripe of pure pain was painted across his butt. And Skinner was worried about him not making enough noise? This was worse than Reggie's strop. Well, almost. The wood fell again and again, as the squirming bottom over Skinner's lap turned from pale pink, to red, to a blistered scarlet. Mulder was able to take the first twenty whacks in a manner he considered to be manly enough, but then his resolved vanished in a haze of pain as a dozen quickly delivered smacks landed on one inflamed spot low on his bottom. From that moment on he cried, he kicked, he pleaded for mercy and he promised the world, all to no avail, as the improvised paddle inflicted his ravished bottom with stripe after burning stripe. Skinner stopped to inspect the frantically wiggling bottom over his lap. It was absolutely glowing, every inch covered with red, burning welts. He moved the wood down to visit the tender backs of the boy's writhing thighs. The kicking increased as Fox's howls echoed off the walls. Four more solid smacks right on the tender area where bottom met the now tortured thighs, and Skinner stopped. For his part, Mulder seemed unaware of the reprieve as he continued to sob pitifully, wiggling his red, blistered bottom over his captain's lap. Skinner rubbed his cabin boy's back soothingly until he felt his breathing begin to even out. He then gently turned the distressed man over in his arms, taking little pity on him as his scorched bottom came in painful contact with his captain's trouser-covered lap. "Just sit still a minute, I want to talk to you while this lesson is still fresh in your mind." "It's not my mind where your lesson was felt." Mulder pouted, that beautiful lip making a clear statement as to its owner's unhappiness with his present sore-bottomed predicament. Skinner picked up the length of wood again, "Your bottom may be well-blistered, brat, but if you persist with your smart mouth I could still do some damage to those thighs of yours. Will that be necessary, Fox?" "No, sir." Mulder presented his captain with his best wide-eyed, innocent look. "Humph!" Skinner growled and then rubbed a disbelieving hand over his face. Now Reggie had him making that irritating sound. "Don't pull any more of your tricks, sweetheart, or I'll go very hard on you. This is serious business, and I'm deadly serious about your safety. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir." "Will you promise to obey my every order from here on out?" "I'll . . .uh . . .maybe. Uh . . .what I mean is, I'll try." Mulder offered, batting his lashes as he looked up at his captain unable to muster even a hint of optimism in his honest, hazel eyes. "Dammit Fox, can't you ever lie a little? Just give me a little hope?" "Mother Maggie says that false hope is the devil's device. Stop! Stop! Please stop! I won't mention her name again! I promise!" * * * "Fox, please. You have to eat. It's been three days and I haven't seen you actually put anything in your mouth." Skinner pleaded as he sat across from the cabin boy, watching him push the food around his plate yet again. "I'm just not hungry," Mulder lamented, not even bothering to look up. "And what good do you think you'll be in a fight to regain your sister if you're so weak from hunger you pass out, and I have to rescue you instead." "No!" Mulder looked up in alarm, "You have to promise you'll do whatever it takes to get Samantha back." "I can't do that, Fox. I won't sacrifice you, even for your sister. I think you'd better eat and maintain your own strength." Mulder contemplated his captain for a moment, seeing not only compassion in those brown eyes but determination as well, he nodded and forced himself to pick up a piece of bread and a bit of cheese. The cheese had a small spot of mold on it. An outcome of their hasty departure from the island. The foodstuffs had set out in the hot tropical sun just a little longer than ususal. Mulder stared at the mold. Captain Skinner would be most unhappy, he demanded only the freshest food for his crew whenever possible. This early into the voyage there should not be mold on the cheese. Mulder remembered his time in the counting house. He hadn't even thought about the mold back then. He'd been so hungry he had scraped off only the most offensive patches, saving as much of the cheese as possible. He abruptly looked up, catching the captain's eyes with his sudden movement. "I know where he's taking her." "What? How?" "I don't know how? Sometimes things just come together in my mind. I don't know how it happens, but I'm always right. Gentleman John was hired to kidnap Samantha and me to take us back to Blevins. I'm sure of it." "But how, Fox? How can you be so sure?" "It only makes sense. Blevins used to question me incessantly about my sister. He even offered to pay her passage, if I would sign her over to him for seven years like myself. He wanted me and he wanted her. Now he's taken steps to have both." "It does make some sense," Skinner rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It makes complete sense," Mulder assured. "Gentleman John will have to come after me. He can't go back to Blevins with only half of his ransom." "Maybe he'll try to drop Samantha off at port before he comes after you. We might be able to catch him there." "Maybe," Mulder said doubtfully. "Tell me, sweetheart, what's your sister like?" "Samantha?" Fox smiled, "She's very bright and sweet. And such a docile and proper young lady. She never gives anyone a spot of trouble. She's always been the good one." * * * "Not up in that crow's nest again!" The captain shook his fist at the sky in complete exasperation. His crewmen, hapless enough to be standing on deck at that particular moment, took a weary step back. "Get that irritating creature down from there! Who let her out of her cabin anyway?" Gentleman John shaded his eyes to better see up into the far heights of the main mast where long, dark hair was blowing in the wind. "No one her out, sir. She seems to have picked up a few very unladylike skills while in that orphanage." "And just what would those be?" Gentleman John leveled his trembling crewman with a cold stare. "She can pick locks among other things. She keeps letting her nanny, or whoever that other woman is, out of her cabin, too. And that one's driving the crew crazy with her endless preachin' about the wages of sin." "Well go up and get that girl down. Tell her that if she doesn't behave I'll lock her nurse in the ship's hole. Blevins has promised a very substantial bonus for delivering the girl untouched but he made no mention of a chaperon. I should have run that old biddy through where she stood when she demanded to accompany the girl on board." Seventeen year old Samantha Mulder looked down to where the evil, old captain was shouting orders to his crew. She shivered. She didn't like the way the man looked at her. If it hadn't been for the protection of Mary Scully, she thought the man might actually have ravaged her by now. She wanted her brother. She had overheard the pirates talking about their attempt to kidnap Fox. From what they said, it appeared that Gentleman John would be far more interested in her handsome brother than in herself. She found that even more frightening than her own dire predicament. Fox was such a sweet innocent. Always worried about doing the right thing. Samantha was much more pragmatic. She would do what needed to be done and confess her sins afterward. Mary Scully always said that God was forgiving, and Samantha was the best proof of that fact. "The captain wants to speak with you, miss." Samantha looked down with distaste on the smelly pirate who seemed afraid to get too close to her. "If you touch me, I shall jump to my death." Samantha warned, having quickly ascertained that the evil captain needed her alive. "Ah-h-h-h, miss, don't do this to me. Gentleman John is a short- tempered sort. He's as soon cut out my gullet than look at me. Please come down." "Oh very well. Move away, you shan't be looking up my skirts, sir." The pirate nearly broke his neck as he quickly descended the rope, leaving Samantha to gather her skirts and demurely make her way back down the rigging. She was now glad of all the times she had snuck away from the orphanage to climb the orchard trees. Miss Scully had been outraged, of course, but it was serving Samantha well while abroad this loathsome ship. Samantha stood unflinching in front of the glowering captain. The pirates all stood back, fearful for their lives, while the young girl seemed unconcerned that she faced the most blood-thirsty pirate to ever sail the seas. "I do not understand," Gentleman John began in that deceptively soft voice of his. "I was told by Blevins that your brother assured him that you were the most gentle of woman. In fact, he said that Fox believes you to be the very essence of femininity. While you are in truth, A HOLY TERROR!" The captain's voice got alarmingly louder with each word he uttered. "And are completely disrupting my ship!" "There's no need to shout, captain." Samantha chided, showing no concern whatsoever for the captain's ill temper. "And as for my brother - He wants to believe." "Cap'n! Cap'n!" Gentleman John rolled his eyes heavenward. What now? "YES, WHAT IS IT?" The pirate bearing bad news stopped several yards away from his volatile captain. "That Mary Scully woman is preachin' to the crew, she's already brung two of 'em to the Lord. Wicked Willie and One-Eyed Dan are a' cryin' and washin' each other's feet. You gotta' stop her, cap'n!" "I'm beginning to wish I'd never heard the name Mulder. Take this one to her cabin, and make sure she stays there." Gentleman John leveled his crewman with a look. "And don't be touching her. If I can't have her, no one can." "Ye . . .yes, sir." Gentleman John hurried to the galley where indeed Mary Scully had set up a makeshift mission. "And just what do you think you're doing, Madame?" "Why, I'm merely passing on the word of the Lord, captain. Surely you can't object to that." "Well I do object," the pirate captain fisted his hands, desperately trying to maintain control. Blevins had promised him a fortune in ransom. More money that he could garner from a year of looting merchant ships. The man just hadn't mentioned what a trial it would be to earn the prize. "You object to the word of our one True God? Surly not even you could be that crass, sir." "These are pirates, Madame. They are supposed to be evil and blood-thirsty." He glanced over at the two motley pirates who were now sobbing with the joy at their new found redemption. "You're turning them into a bunch of sniveling . . . do-gooders!" "I'm turning them into righteous men, captain. My twin sister, Margaret, came to these islands over twenty years ago to dedicate her life to bringing lost sheep into the fold. How can I do less?" "You have a sister?" John's interest was suddenly perked, "Here in the Caribbean? Close by?" "Yes. Maggie has a mission on Sauve L'ile." John's face fell. He really wanted rid of this woman but could he risk a trip back to Skinner's island to dump her off? "Have heard the word of the Lord, captain?" "Henderson!" Roche shouted at his first mate, panic heavy in his usual flat tones. "Change course! We're going to Sauve L'ile." * * * "Fox, so help me, if you don't stay right by my side, you won't see the outside of my cabin until we return home." They had slipped into port under cover of darkness and an impending storm. Mulder now stood at the ship's railing, looking at the counting house in which he had spent so much of his last few years. A shudder ran through his body as he could almost smell the odor of dust and decay that permeated the old building. "I still think we need to lure him out," Mulder pouted, not bothering to look at his captain. The argument was an old one. "You turn yourself into bait, and I'll make you rue the day you were ever born, brat." "Captain Skinner?" The captain turned to his first officer. "What is it, Mr. Byers." "The scouting parties are back, sir. Blevins is ashore, but there is no sign of Samantha at either his residence or the counting house. And the Severed Heart appears to not be in port." "Dammit! I should have known it wouldn't be this easy." "He'll be here," Fox assured. "I just know Blevins is the man behind this." "Give the men shore leave, Mr. Byers. Tell them to ask around, see if anyone knows anything about Gentleman John or Blevins' dealing with the man." "Yes, sir." "I want to go ashore." "No." "You can't just say like that. You have to give me a good reason." Mulder sulked. "No I don't, but I will tell you this. You aren't going ashore because I can't trust you not to offer yourself up in exchange for a sister you don't even know isn't still safely back on English soil." "I wouldn't run away from you." "Yes you would, brat. Oh it wouldn't be deliberate. You'd feel guilty about it both during and after. You'd beat yourself up the whole time about your betrayal but you'd still do it. You'd run right into that vile merchant's arms, even knowing you couldn't trust him to keep his word to release your sister." "You make me sound like a fool." "Far from it, my beauty, you're brilliant and brave, but you don't stop to think of your own safety when someone you love is concerned. You'd gladly sacrifice yourself, and that's something I won't allow to happen. You mean the world to me, brat." Mulder looked down at his boots, deeply touched by his captain's words but still wanting to go ashore. A small group of departing seamen walked up to their captain. "We'll be leaving now, Captain Skinner." Frohike looked over at Mulder. "You gonna' be all right, kid?" Lucius Hartwell threw an arm around Mulder. "Don't fret so, cabin boy, Reggie and I are going ashore. We'll find out what we need to know. I have my ways." Mulder nodded, for once glad that the vampire was a little long on charm and a little short on scruples. "Just what do you hope to gain by this, vampire?" Reggie hissed as they walked away. Lucius looked back to where Skinner had pulled Mulder against his chest, rubbing slow circles on his back. "Them." "Seems to me you already tried that trick. I saw your calling card on the rug." "Normal body function," Lucius gave Reggie one of his most innocent smiles. "And besides they don't remember that night. Someday, in the not too distant future, those two beautiful mortals are going to find themselves in bed with one very talented and incredibly sensual vampire." "Anyone I know?" "Very funny," Lucius hissed sarcastically. "The next time, I'll not only let them remember their night with me, I'll make them long for more." "Humph!" Modell came staggering up behind them, pale and sickly. "Lucius, you said I'd feel better, but every night I wake up weaker than I was before I went to bed." Reggie glanced over at Lucius, his eyebrows raised high on his head. The vampire shrugged, "Hey a guy's gotta' eat." Lucius caught Modell's eyes with his own, "Just go back down below. I'll come to your cabin later, just like always." "Yes, Master." Modell shuffled off to find his way back to his cabin. "Master?" Reggie asked. "Well, if it weren't for me, he wouldn't be here. I think that deserves a little respect." "I'm the one who allowed him on board," Reggie reminded. "You want him to call Master?" Lucius inquired, his mouth turning up in a grin. "No, I want the worthless son-of-a-bitch to stay away from me and from Fox." "Done! And he isn't totally worthless, he makes a great midnight snack. Now come on, let's go have a little talk with Mr. Blevins." * * * Skinner was right. Mulder did feel guilty as he slipped over the side of the ship and swam silently to shore. He also felt scared spitless. He didn't even want to think about what the captain would do to him when he found out that his cabin boy had blatantly disregarded his orders not to go ashore. It was just too horrible to contemplate. Mulder's plan was to go to Blevins' house and offer himself in exchange for Samantha. It was a simple scheme, one that Captain Skinner would kill him over, but one he was sure would work. From what he had seen of the greedy merchant, married or not, the man would much rather cozy up to Fox than to his little sister. Mulder shivered at the loathsome thought, but there was nothing to be done for it. Just as he pulled himself up on the dock, the skies opened up and a cold rain began to fall. He shivered hard as he made his way toward one of the lesser used warehouses on the wharf, huddling miserably in a doorway while he waited for the rain to let up so he could continue on with his ill-fated mission. * * * Reggie squatted in the bushes outside the Blevins' house, waiting most impatiently for the vampire to return. He was soaked to the bone and becoming more irritable by the moment. He nearly jumped out of his skin as Lucius suddenly appeared in front of him. "Will you stop doing that! I'm an old man. You're going to startle me into an early grave." "You're too crotchety to die," Lucius squatted down beside the older captain. "He isn't in there, only his wife was at home. She was delicious." Lucius licked his lips as he waggled his eyebrows at Reggie. "You didn't!" "Just a little taste. She quite enjoyed it. I think she would have asked for my hand in marriage if I'd stayed just a few minutes longer." "Humph! Well your dubious allure aside, what do we do now?" "Let's just roam around town for a while. See if we can find someone who knows where Blevins has gotten himself off to." "Why the hell did it have to start raining," Reggie groused as he rose stiffly to his feet. "Need some help there, old man?" "You just watch your mouth, blood sucker. I'm not too old to . . ." Suddenly a ruckus started a few streets over. The sound of men running and shouting could be easily heard all over town. Lucius cocked a sharp ear toward the raised voices. "Someone told the town constable about the pirate vessel off their shore," Lucius whispered. "We have to get back to the Chauve Terreur before that mob does." "Great. Just great! What else can go wrong?" * * * "He's gone!" "What? How could that happen? I thought you were watching him." Reggie wrapped a strong arm around the distraught Walter's trembling shoulders. "He . . .and then we . . .and afterward I was just so sleepy . . ." "You just had to go and find yourself a pretty package of pure trouble didn't you, Walter. And one you can't resist to boot!" Reggie shook his head sadly. "I'm taking over command for a while. And don't give me that look, I promise we won't leave without your brat." "Mr. Byers," Reggie snapped, "are all the men back on board?" "All except for Fox, Captain Purdue." "Prepare to sail. We have to get further from shore before that mob arrives. They'll burn the ship if we let them. Pull the Chauve Terreur to a safe distance, then weigh anchor. We'll take a rescue party on shore tonight." "You're going to leave Fox there by himself for a whole day?" Skinner shouted, butting up against his former captain, trying to wrench the wheel out of Byers' hands. "You stand easy, cabin boy!" Captain Purdue roared. Skinner immediately responded to the tone of that command, stepping back, his eyes wide. "You will go to my cabin and wait for me there, Walter." "But . . ." "DON'T ARGUE WITH ME!" Skinner's face flamed red as he looked around at his crew. But none of them were laughing at him, instead he saw nothing but compassion and a deep regret that they were pulling away from shore without the captain's precious cabin boy. Skinner turned, stumbling numbly toward the below deck stairs. "And Walter?" The captain turned back to look at Purdue. "It will be all right. We won't let anything happen to your cabin boy. I promise." Skinner stared at the man he had trusted with his life for almost twenty years, nodded, and went below. They could see the torches on shore from where they moored in safe waters a few miles out. The civilians wouldn't dare take a ship out against the heavily armed pirate vessel or the storm chopped seas. The Chauve Terreur would go unchallenged. "Mr. Byers," Reggie turned to the first mate. "I'm going below to try to calm Walter. He's no good to anyone like this. I want you to sit down with your best men and come up with a plan to rescue that troublesome boy of his." Reggie shook his head. "And to think he has a sister. Let's just hope she didn't inherit his wilder genes or we're all in trouble." "The female is often the more docile of the species, sir." Reggie raised an brow high above his left eye. "And just how long have you been married, Mr. Byers? And to Black Jack Modesky's daughter at that. Surely you jest." Byers made a sour face, "I think I spoke in error, captain." "Yes, I think you did. Carry on, Mr. Byers." Skinner looked up miserably from where he sat on the end of the bunk, as his former captain came into the cabin. He let his head drop back down to study the floor between his spread knees. "I've lost him." "That boy needs you to get your head out of your ass, Walter." Skinner looked up startled. It wasn't like Captain Purdue to be quite so blunt or so crude. "You don't understand. I . . .I can't." "Yes you can and you will . . .because I'm going to help you. Get your pants down and lean across the bed, Walter." "What? You can't mean . . ." "Oh but I do. There's nothing like a good taste of leather on a man's bare butt to get him back on track and thinking straight. You'd best get moving before I really get angry with you." "You haven't whipped me since I was a kid. You can't . . ." "You're wrong, boy, I can and I will. You were mine to correct then, and you're mine still. Fox needs you and I mean to see that he gets just what he needs. Both now and when he's back on board this ship." "I don't see how whipping me with that blasted strop of yours is going to . . ." "Walter, why do you punish Fox? He's twenty-three years old. A strong, smart, fully-grown man. Why do you bother to discipline him?" "He needs a firm hand. I give him direction, I . . ." Skinner stopped, staring at his captain. Sighing in resignation, he undid the laces holding his pants in place and let them fall to his ankles. He turned, leaning over the bed, bare butt to the ceiling. "Hold on, Walter. It's been a while so this won't be easy for you." Reggie brought the old, well-oiled strop back behind his shoulder, swinging it down across his former cabin boy's waiting posterior. Skinner gasped loudly as a streak of white-hot fire settled into his hindquarters. He forgotten just how much this hurt. Reggie Purdue wasted no time laying lash after stinging lash on the squirming backside presented up for his attention. Skinner gasped and squirmed, trying desperately not to cry out his agony. He didn't want his crew to know what was happening down here. It all came rushing back to him, the long forgotten feel of subtle leather on bare skin. He found himself being transported back in time. A time when he often found himself in this all too familiar position while Reggie Purdue pounded away at his errant ass. The old strop was merciless, landing again and again. Covering every inch of exposed flesh until Skinner was sure he didn't have any skin left. Finally Walter couldn't take the onslaught any more. "Ah-h-h-h-h! Captain! Please sir, no more. Ouch! I'll behave, I promise." "I'll decide when you've had enough, boy." Reggie's strong right arm didn't even slow as he delivered stripe after burning stripe on Skinner's flaming buns. Walter was now sobbing pitifully, his legs kicking wildly behind him. By this point, Walter was beyond conscious thought, his total focus on the two burning mounds of flesh being so thoroughly attended to by his captain. He felt his thoughts churn, his fear and panic falling away as the intense pain in his backside brought a new clarity to his mind. "Reggie! Please stop! Ouch-h-h-h! I'm okay now! Oh-h-h-h! I'm okay!" Reggie paused, looking down on the captain of the Chauve Terreur as he squirmed miserably. "You ready to go find that boy?" The well-used leather flashed down on the sore bottom still turned up for further chastisement. "Ouch! Yes! Yes, I . . .I don't know what got into me. I'm fine now, really." "You," Smack! "better," Smack! "be." Smack! Smack! "That," Smack! "boy," Smack! "needs you!" Smack! Smack! Smack! "Yes, sir! I know! Oouhh-h-h-h! Really I do!" Reggie pulled the captain up to lean against him, a firm arm around the shivering man. "It's been a while, huh Walter?' "Not nearly long enough. I'll have to remember just how this felt the next time I punish Fox." "Now don't you be letting up on that brat! You best remember how this brought you back in line, that's what's important. The sting soon passes but the lesson remains. That's what the boy needs from you, not more coddling. Save that for afterward. Now, you get yourself put together while I go up and see what strategy John Byers has come up with to save your little boy's butt. Speaking of which, I gotta' warn you, Walter, that boy's backside is going to suffer mightily when I get my hand on him again." Skinner nodded, feeling a good deal of sympathy for Fox when he did see Reggie the next time. * * * Fox was feeling a good deal of sympathy for himself at the moment. He was huddled back in his doorway as far as possible as he wanted an angry mob of towns' folk shaking their fists and screaming at the Chauve Terreur where it lay anchored outside their reach. Mulder took a shaky breath, trying to pull back as the light from their torches intermittently touched his shadowed corner. If they found him here, they'd surely kill him. He gasped as one of the men turned, casting Mulder in complete light. Just as the man started to call out, the door behind the cabin boy opened and he was pulled down a short flight of stairs. He stumbled, grabbing onto the grimy brick walls of the warehouse as a furious knocking sounded at the heavy door. He flinched as strong fingers closed around his arm, "Sh-h-h-h. Don't make a sound. Chester Bonaparte knows how to get you out of here. Chester Bonaparte knows everything." Mulder looked down. It was hard to see in the dim light but from all appearances his rescuer was a young boy, probably not more than nine or ten. Mulder took a step back as more hands joined those pounding on the warehouse door. He turned quickly to follow the child to promised safety. They traveled down several long, dusty corridors before coming to another door. The boy lay his ear against the cold wood, then smiled as he carefully opened the portal onto a dark alley. "We be safe here." The young man announced, white teeth gleaming in his handsome face. "See, I told you Chester Bonaparte would save you." Mulder couldn't help but smile at the enchanting child, "And you, I presume, are this Chester Bonaparte?" The boy smiled even broader, bowing at the waist, one arm extended in a mockery of courtly manners. "The one and only. You are a very lucky man that Chester Bonaparte happened on you tonight. That mob, they would have killed you for sure." "Why? Do I look like a real pirate?" Mulder asked proudly. The boy leaned over hugging his stomach as he laughed. "You are just too funny! No, you do not look like a pirate. You look more like a drowned rat to me. But that mob, they wouldn't have cared. They have blood in their eye tonight. They would have killed you for no other reason than you were the only one around." "Oh," Mulder pouted. "Well, I am a pirate you know?" "You?" Chester laughed again. "You are the boy who used to be locked in old man Blevins' counting house." Mulder stared at the boy in wide-eyed confusion, his wide, hazel eyes blinking slowly. "You knew me?" "Not me, but you helped my grandfather once." "I doubt that," Mulder shook his head. "I never left that counting house. I couldn't have helped anyone from inside there." "Do you remember an old sailor with one eye and a peg leg? He would sit on the docks and beg for coins. At night he sat under your window while you told him stories?" Mulder ran his tongue over his bottom lip, thinking about all the old, forgotten seamen who used to visit him at night. "You know I do remember him. Always wore that funny blue hat. He would stay long after the others had gone home to find their beds." "You gave him your food. You would throw it down to him from that little window high in the wall." Mulder blushed, "I gave him very little. I hardly had any for myself." "All the more reason for my grandfather's gratitude. He would bring the stale bread home to me, and talk about the beautiful angel that was being held prisoner in the counting house." Mulder blushed more fiercely, "Really Chester, I don't deserve any thanks for sharing a few crumbs of stale bread. Anyone would have done the same." Chester laughed again, "My grandfather was right, you are an innocent. It's a good thing you have Chester Bonaparte to look out for you until your captain can find you." "How do you know about my captain?" "I saw him take you from the counting house. My grandfather was most pleased to hear about it. He died that night. I think it gave him peace to know his angel had finally been rescued." "I'm sorry, Chester. So who takes care of you now?" "Chester Bonaparte, he takes care of himself. And now, he takes care of you to. Come, angel, we go home now." Mulder shook his head, "I'm no angel, Chester." Another flash of perfect, white teeth. "Maybe we are all someone's angel. Come now, it's time to leave this place. Your captain will not come for you until tomorrow night." "How do you know that?" "I hear talk. Besides like I told you, Chester Bonaparte, he knows everything. Now come." Mulder stood in the shelter of the warehouse, staring at the door that Chester had just vanished through. If the boy was right and the captain was coming for him tomorrow, then he had to find Samantha quickly. He didn't really have time to be by the intriguing young Mr. Bonaparte. A small dark head suddenly peeked around the corner of the door. "Don't even think about it, Fox. Your captain would be most unhappy if you turned yourself over to old man Blevins. And besides, your sister isn't here. I already looked for her." Chester's 'home' turned out to be another rat infested warehouse a few blocks away. Mulder looked around at the dirty pile of rags the small boy obviously called a bed. There was also an overturned crate that served as a table for a small assortment of treasures. He was surprised to see a small gold cross lying amount the odds and ends that Chester called his sole possessions. Mulder carefully lifted the delicate gold chain, holding the cross up to catch the little light that could enter Chester's home. "It's very beautiful, is it not?" Chester beamed at his guest as he searched through another pile of what looked like trash in one corner. "Yes, it's very pretty." "It was a special gift from another angel. This one was all mine. She had the most beautiful hair, it was dark like mine but in the light, it danced with fire. Red like the sun!" "Where is she now?" "She sailed on a ship. Before we parted for the last time, she promised I would see her again some day. I don't think she would lie to Chester Bonaparte," The boy looked at Mulder with naked hope in his eyes. "Do you think she would lie to me?" "No," Mulder shook his head. "I don't think angels ever lie." The boy grinned from ear to ear, "That's what I think, too. Now, I'm going to share my food with you. It is only fair." The boy held out a moldy piece of bread and a dirty cup of water. Mulder tried not to show any reaction as he took the offering. "When my captain comes to get me, why don't we ask him if you can come with us, Chester. You'd like sailing on a pirate ship, and there's always plenty of food." "Yes, Chester Bonaparte would like that. Maybe if I am sailing the seas, I can find my angel." "It wouldn't surprise me at all," Mulder whispered as he leaned his head back against the wall, almost instantly falling into a deep sleep. Chester carefully removed the bread and water from Mulder's hands. "You sleep, angel, Chester Bonaparte will watch over you for your captain." The next morning Mulder hustled Chester out of his home early. He had a few coins in his pocket, and planned to buy the boy a decent breakfast before they did anything else. The rain had let up during the night, and a bright sun shown in a clear blue sky. Chester had not been boasting. He did know every nook and cranny of the village. At a homey little pub, they gorged themselves on fresh bread, cheese and sliced mutton, all washed down with the sweetest wine Mulder had ever tasted. Then the ever-cheerful boy took Mulder on a tour of a town he had lived in for three long years but had never seen. "Are you sure Samantha isn't here?" Chester sighed in exasperation. It seemed even he could have his lighthearted mood altered if driven far enough. "Yes, for the one hundred and one time, she is not here. You must look elsewhere. Chester Bonaparte," the boy thumped his own chest proudly, "he will help you." They were very careful to avoid the areas of the town that Scott Blevins inhabited. Mulder had never realized what a beautiful area he had lived in. It made him sad to think of his wasted time in that dreary counting house. They enjoyed another meal, Mulder having not realized just how much the gold that Captain Skinner insisted he carry on his person would buy. They were both well-fed and exhausted as they made their way back to Chester's little hide-away. Despite their precautions, they walked into a trap. Mulder had no sooner set foot inside the dingy room than he was lifted off his feet and slammed against a wall. His vision swam in front of his eyes as his head made hard contact with the solid bricks at his back. He heard Chester laughing. "You're early. I knew you could not wait." Mulder groaned from deep in his chest. Chester had betrayed him. It had all been a ruse from the beginning. The cabin boy shook his head, trying to clear it, as he looked up at the big man who held him so easily in place. Just as his eyes began to focus, he felt himself being shaken yet again. "I told you to stay on the ship!" "Cap . . .captain?" "Don't you me, you little brat. You'll be lucky if I don't take every bit of the hide off your butt for this little stunt." Chester was laughing again. "Unless you wish to end up with a dullard for a cabin boy, captain, I think you need to stop pounding his head against that wall." Chester's words seemed to get through to the irate captain. The shaking stopped, and Mulder felt himself set back on his feet, only to be crushed against a hard, muscular chest. "You scared ten years off my life, brat." Mulder used the last of his strength to pull back from his captain, his vision swimming in and out as he tried to focus on the beloved face in front of him. He managed two words, "Take Chester" before he passed out in his captain's arms. * * * Mulder was swimming up from the very bottom of the pond on their island home. The water was very warm and very dark but he wasn't afraid, he knew his captain was waiting for him on the surface. "I didn't mean to hurt him." That was Skinner's voice. Who did he hurt? Mulder hoped the captain hadn't thought that Chester was holding his cabin boy against his will. The long, dark lashes batted slowly, opening to reveal dazed hazel eyes. Captain Skinner's smiling face finally came into focus. "How are you feeling, my beauty?" "Are we at the pond?" Skinner chuckled, "No, I think that was a dream. You're on the Chauve Terreur again. And," the captain's face darkened, "you're going to stay here this time." "Chester?" "I'm right here, angel. Chester Bonaparte is a real pirate now." "Don't call me 'angel', Chester." Mulder croaked, thankful when someone lifted his head, a cup of cool water touching his lips. "Chester told me about what you did for his grandfather. You never cease to amaze me, cabin boy." "I never cease to anger you is more like it. I didn't find Samantha, sir." "I know. We'll find her, Fox. You have to believe that." Mulder nodded his head as he let it fall back down on the soft, inviting pillows. "I want to believe." Mulder lay staring at the dark, wood-paneled ceiling of the captain's cabin. He squirmed a little, causing the man snoring softly beside him to mumble in his sleep, pulling the cabin boy even closer against his warm body. It was now the wee hours of the morning, and Mulder had yet to relax enough to go to sleep himself. It had been only two days since his disastrous decision to go ashore without his captain's permission. Now that he was over the physical effects of that little adventure, he knew he was in for some well-earned discipline. Even though he couldn't blame the captain for being upset with him, he didn't want to be punished. And Reggie had hinted more than once that another trip over that barrel would not be unwarranted for, as Reggie so aptly put it, he had pulled. Mulder could almost feel that strap burning across his backside while the whole crew watched his naked shame. He squirmed again. This time, the captain grumbled in sleepy protest, releasing Mulder long enough to turn onto his back. The cabin boy grabbed the opportunity, rolling swiftly out of bed and placing his pillow where his body had been. Sure enough, the captain quickly pulled the pillow close, hugging it possessively against his massive chest. Pulling on his discarded clothing, Mulder silently opened the door, warily looking up and down the corridor before daring to take his leave from the captain's cabin. There was no one about at this early hour except the small crew manning the ship. Most everyone else was asleep in their beds like the good little, cut-throat pirates they were. The cabin boy crept to the top of the stairs leading to the deck. He very cautiously poked his head out just far enough to see just who was on duty. He hoped it was someone he could trust not to tell Captain Skinner that the cabin boy had been prowling around on deck again. The captain had made it painfully clear on more than one occasion that he did not condone about in the middle of the night. Mulder wasn't sure if it was in general that he objected to, or just that which was done by his cabin boy. To Mulder's surprise he couldn't see a thing. A thick, heavy fog had rolled in sometime during the night. Mulder continued up on deck, putting his hand out in front of him to find any unseen obstacles that might cause him to stumble and give away his presence. Once extended, his hand vanished from sight. He nearly jumped out of his skin when something landed heavily on his shoulder. "Calm down, Fox." Tom Colton's voice drifted to him out of the fog. "What are you doing up here without your big watchdog?" Mulder shrugged the offending hand off his shoulder, "Get away from me, Colton, I don't want any trouble from you. I just needed a little fresh air, that's all." "I've got something better than fresh air." A brown jug suddenly appeared in front of the cabin boy's nose. "Demon rum!" Mulder screeched, only to have a hand slapped over his mouth. "Sh-h-h-h! Yes, and be quiet or they'll all want some. Have you ever even tasted rum before?" "Well, no. Indentured servants aren't given a lot of hard spirits, and the captain prefers wine." "Well the captain in a man of sophisticated tastes. You, on the other hand, need to broaden your horizons, cabin boy, come with me." Mulder soon found himself tucked away in a snug little corner of the deck formed by the stacked dinghies, several wooden barrels and a discarded canvas tarp. He had sputtered and choked as the first sip of the had hit his throat. Since then, it had started going down a whole lot smoother. " . . .and then the captain takes off that big black, plumed hat of his and just sweeps it through the air, bowing real low like . . ." "No!" Mulder giggled as he took another long swallow from the jug. He would have to remember to tell Mother Maggie that she was completely mistaken about the evils of drinking. This stuff was good! "Yeah," Colton assured. "And then he just barely nods at the men who were holding Gentleman John, and they chucked the Severed Heart's Captain right over the side of the ship. Splash! It was great," Colton snickered from somewhere out of the fog that shrouded them. "Why didn't the captain just kill him while he had the chance?" "Well you see, cabin boy," Colton burped loudly, sending both men into fits of drunken tittering. "You see, Captain Skinner is an honorable man. He'd defeated Gentleman John, humiliated him in front of his crew, he didn't see the need to shed his blood. But," Colton added solemnly, "I'd a'done it, had it'd been me." Mulder swallowed hard as he leaned back against the side of the ship, his head swimming from the effects of the unfamiliar rum. He wished he could see Colton's face, but even from just a few feet away, the man was lost in the white mist. "You would? You'd have killed him in cold blood?" "I get rid of what gets in my way." Colton assured. Mulder frowned at the odd note that had crept into his drinking companion's voice. He set the jug down on the deck beside him. "Um-m-m, I think I'd better be getting back down below. I don't want the captain to wake up and find me gone. He worries." "Oh does he now?" Colton sneered, sending another wave of alarm up Mulder's spine. "Um-m-m yeah, I'd better . . ." The cabin boy didn't get to finish his sentence as something hurdled out of the fog, hitting his temple with a resounding crack. He crumpled into Tom Colton's waiting arms. * * * "Find him!" Captain Skinner bellowed frantically as he watched his crew scurrying around the ship looking for the missing cabin boy. "Calm down, Walter," Reggie put a hand on the captain's trembling shoulder. "Or do we need to have another discussion in my cabin regarding your attitude?" Skinner's head spun around to look at his former captain. "I'm okay, Reggie. I just can't believe I've lost him again." "I don't think it's so much that you lose him, Walter, as he just wanders off. That boy's infernal curiosity is going to be the death of both of you unless you find a way to curb it and quickly." "Don't worry, Reggie, if I find him this time, I'll teach him a lesson he won't soon forget." "I'll make sure of it, Walter. And we going to find him." "Captain!" Skinner turned at the sound of Langly's voice. "One of the dinghies is missing!" "WHAT!" The captain looked out to sea. The fog had lifted a little, but visibility was still limited to only a few feet beyond the ship. He looked up to where the crow's nest was hidden completely from view. "Frohike!" He called out frantically, "Can you see anything from up there? One of the dinghies is missing!" "No captain," came a detached voice out of the mist. "Thick as pea soup up here." "And I found this over by where the dinghies are stowed." Colton said smugly as he held up an empty rum jug. "Fox doesn't drink," Reggie eyed Colton suspiciously. "He was upset," Skinner began to pace nervously on the smooth, worn deck. "I had kind of threatened him before we went to bed. I never should have scared him like that." "Humph!" Reggie snorted, "Nothing scares that boy. That's the problem." * * * Mulder groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. Damn, his head hurt again. Why was he always getting thumped in the head anyway? He lay a hand on his throbbing temple, and slowly sat up. "What the . . ." He carefully turned, looking in all directions. He was in one of the dinghies adrift at sea. He remembered all the talk about Modell, and how noone but his witless self would have fished a lone man out of the ocean. He was doomed.! Shark food! He would never see his captain again! Mulder pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them as he buried his face. His head throbbed. He carefully lay down in the bottom of the boat, rolling to his side and curling into a tight little ball as he waited for the sharks to find him. * * * Skinner sat in his cabin, frantically going over his navigational maps. He was desperate to determine which direction a lone dinghy would have drifted during the night. He threw his compass down in frustration, lowering his head into his hands, hot tears filling his eyes. His head jerked up as he heard his first mate calling to him from the deck, his usually droll voice filled with excitement. Skinner raced up to find all the men gathered at the stern of the ship. The fog had lifted enough that a thin, taught, hemp line was now visible coming off the back of the ship, obviously attached to something on the other end. Two of the more husky pirates were carefully heaving on the end of the line. Byers turned, as the captain slid to a stop at his side. "The cook had put out a baited fish line last night, and it looks like it caught something a little larger than he anticipated." "Do you think it might be . . .," Skinner looked over to where the two men were gingerly pulling on the line. "Can't they go any faster?" "It's just a fishing line, sir," Byers looked at his captain with sympathetic eyes. "If it breaks, we lose whatever's on the other end." Slowly and painfully, the thin rope was pulled in until the bow of a small boat could be seen. Skinner felt his stomach come up to lodge somewhere in his throat. *Fox!* The captain's stomach dropped back down, this time landing in the general vicinity of his boots. As it was pulled closer, he could clearly that there was no one in the dinghy. Leaning over the railing as far as possible, he peered despondently into the mist. His stomach did another perfect somersault, this time settling in his heart, as he suddenly saw a long, familiar body curled up in the bottom of the tiny boat. Ropes were thrown over the side of the ship as several of the pirates swiftly shimmied down toward the water. All the yelling and commotion caused Mulder to wake, sitting up, looking around in amazement as several pirates hung in mid-air swarming around the small dinghy. They were all busy attaching grappling hooks to its sides. He raised his head higher, wide, hazel eyes filling with relief as he saw his captain smiling down at him. The small boat was laboriously pulled on board, the band of brawny pirates grunting as they toiled. The second the dinghy was safely on deck, Mulder found himself scooped up into sturdy, secure arms and carried below. * * * The cabin boys peeked out from between the barrels of the little hidey-hole that Colton had shown him last night. He was watching as Reggie Purdue supervised the lashing of a large, wooden barrel securely to the deck. The captain had been so relieved to have the cabin boy back that Mulder had spent the first several minutes after they reached the cabin being intermittently kissed breathless and swatted on his backside. Then he was pulled to arm's length for a very thorough examination. "How did you get in that dinghy?" "I don't really know, sir." "Were you drinking rum?" Mulder looked down, grinding his toe into the rug, "Yes, sir." "Who's responsible for this, Fox?" Mulder looked up, surprise in his eyes as he squared his shoulders. "I'm responsible of course. It was all my fault, sir. I'm twenty- three years old, and . . ." Skinner held up a hand to halt this all too familiar rhetoric, "Yes, so you've told me on numerous occasions. Well, you and I are going to have a long discussion about this matter later this afternoon. Stay in this cabin until I come for you." But of course Mulder hadn't stayed in the cabin. He'd been too frightened. He knew exactly how the captain planned to the matter with him. So he had snuck up on deck to see what was going on, and sure enough the dreaded barrel was being readied for use. Once the barrel was in place, and the crew gathered to witness the punishment, Captain Skinner took his place, shaking out the long leather strips that formed the business end of the cat-o-nine-tails. John Byers nodded once at the captain before turning to go below. Mulder's breath caught in his throat, his stomach churning. He took a long, deep breath trying desperately to calm down before he humiliated himself by passing out. He knew he had to come forward before Byers came up to tell the captain his errant cabin boy had absconded yet again. Mulder profoundly regretted his hasty decision to sneak up on deck, as it was now obvious that his blatant act of rebellion would only make things go worse for him. He took another shaky breath, having almost gathered enough nerve to climb out of his hiding place, when a large hand locked itself around his arm. He looked up into the peeved eyes of Captain Reggie Purdue. "Time to come out of there, little boy." Mulder hastily obeyed. Reggie keeping a bruising hold on his arm the whole time as if fearful the cabin boy would bolt at the first opportunity. "I'm not going to run, Reggie. How did you know I was here?" "I don't think you'll be doing too much of anything in the future that Walter Skinner doesn't know about, little boy. Now move, you're wanted over here at the barrel." "Yes, sir." Mulder straightened his shoulders, swallowing hard but determined to face his punishment with some degree of dignity. He looked around at the assembled crew. The last time he'd been whipped on deck, he had seen some compassion on the faces of the men. That wasn't true now. Today they looked excited, eager to see justice served in the form of burning leather on bare, unprotected flesh. Mulder felt dizzy with shame and regret. Reggie gave Mulder's arm a hard jerk. "Stand still, little boy. You're shaking worse than a main sail in a Nor-Easter." Mulder closed his eyes, taking another deep, hitching breath as he tried to calm himself. He wondered what they were waiting for? He opened his eyes to see Captain Skinner staring at him. His gaze was caught and held by those fathomless brown eyes. "Let go of me! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Mulder tore his eyes away from his captain to see Mr. Byers coming back on deck followed closely by two huge, grinning pirates dragging a struggling Tom Colton between them. The cabin boy turned his gaze back to where his captain still stood watching him intently. Fox blinked slowly at the older man, his face a mask of bewilderment. He watched as the corners of Skinner's mouth turned up ever so slightly. The expression was there and gone so quickly that the cabin boy wasn't certain he had actually seen that small, reassuring smile before the captain had turned his solemn attention to the approaching men. Captain Skinner addressed the indignantly protesting Colton, "You're accused of stealing rum from the galley, and intentionally putting the life of one of your crewmen in jeopardy. Have you anything to say in your own defense?" "I didn't do anything! I can't be held responsible for some stupid, worthless cabin boy who can't hold his rum and ends up falling overboard!" "With a knot on the side of his head as big as a goose egg." Reggie said. "We found that dagger over by where you so conveniently located the empty rum jug, Colton." "It's yours," the captain held up the condemning knife. "It has fresh blood on the handle. We also have a witness who saw you take the rum from the galley last night." All of Colton's anger and frustration suddenly came rushing to the surface, "He doesn't deserve you! It's me who should be sharing your bed, not a some little pretty-boy that you picked up in a rat- hole of a counting house. He doesn't know the first thing about being a pirate. Always running around trying to do the thing. Nothing but a baby-faced, little do-gooder. You deserve someone who understands your needs." Spittle flew from Colton's mouth as he blustered at his captain, "You deserve ME!" One fat tear escaped to run down the cabin boy's smooth cheek. *Colton was right, Mulder didn't deserve . . .* The cabin boy's head snapped up, hazel eyes wide with alarm, as the captain pointed a finger at him, bellowing loudly. "And you . . .so help me if you agree with one idiotic word he just said, I'll have you over this barrel with him. Got it?" Mulder nodded anxiously, his eyes widening even further. He shifted his panic-stricken gaze over to Reggie who was chuckling from behind his hand. "Tom Colton," Skinner's voice boomed across the deck of the ship. "You are found guilty on all charges and sentenced to thirty lashed with the cat-o-nine-tails, to be carried out immediately. Strip him!" The two pirates holding Colton smiled evilly as they quickly tore the clothing from the struggling man's body. Colton cursed the cabin boy, the captain and everyone else he could think of as his naked body was roughly tied across the wooden barrel, his feet dangling from where they were bound to the barrel's mooring ropes. The empty wooden barrel rattled against the deck as its unwilling occupant fought to free himself. The captain stood patiently watching until the condemned man had exhausted himself with his futile resistance. He lifted the whip high above his right shoulder, the nine leather tails seeming to stir with a life of their own. There was a flash and a blur as the whip snaked through the air, landing with a deafening crack on Colton's naked shoulders. The hapless man screamed as nine long, livid welts appeared across his skin. "One." Called John Byers, his a flat, dry monotone exhibiting none of the remorse that had been present in Frohike's unwilling count of Fox's strokes. Colton barely had time to get his breath back before the vicious whip was descending again, this time marking his bare, upturned butt with bright stripes of sheer agony. "Ah-h-h-h-h!" It appeared that Colton felt no manly need to hide his discomfort, screaming and cursing loudly at each stroke. "Two." Captain Skinner set to work with single-minded determination. He whipped the ill-fated man from shoulders to knees, paying particular attention to the tender, white buttocks, now the highest point of the man's shuddering body. All the while, the first mate coldly called out each stroke as it fell. Mulder closed his eyes. He wanted to put his hands over his ears so he couldn't hear the agonized screams that were coming from the well-beaten man lying over the barrel. The cabin boy now realized how easy his captain had gone on him during his own punishment. He had gotten little more than an embarrassing public spanking. This, on the other hand, was real punishment. Reggie wrapped an arm around Fox's trembling body, hugging him close to his chest. "Open you eyes, little boy. Don't waste your compassion on that one. He's a snake in the grass, and it's about time Walter caught on to his tricks." The cabin boy looked up to see Lucius Hartwell as he stood mesmerized, staring at the few drops of blood that had appeared as the tip of one of the cat-tails had caught a particularly soft spot on the outside of Colton's bare hip. There weren't many such spots; one on the base of the left buttock, another on the inside of a thigh. Captain Skinner, it seemed, was very skilled with his whip. Mulder shivered at the implications of that unpleasant thought. Fox had become convinced that this whipping would never end. His ears rang from the sound of leather on bare flesh, and the horrible screams coming from the suffering recipient. He wasn't sure Colton would survive such a harsh chastisement. "He'll live," Reggie hissed in his ear as if reading his mind. "Most of that screaming is for show. It won't stop Walter from doing what must be done. And it might even turn the boy around, though I doubt it." "Twenty-eight." "Ah-h-h-h-h! You bastard! No-o-o-o-o! Ouch-h-h-h-h!" "Twenty-nine." "Sto-o-o-op! Ah-h-h-h-h! I'll kill that damned cabin boy for this! You mark my words! Oh-h-h-h-h!" "Thirty." "Ah-h-h-h-h! I'll kill all of you! Ouch-h-h-h-h! Ah-h-h-h-h!" The captain let the cat fall to his side, looking down at the blubbering man as he lay helplessly over the barrel, his backside a mass of raw, flaming welts. "Leave him here until second watch." Skinner handed the whip back to his first mate. "I suggest, Colton, that you spend the time contemplating how to better serve this ship and its crew. But, more importantly," Skinner's voice took on a lower, immensely dangerous pitch. "Don't ever touch my cabin boy again." Skinner turned, grabbing Mulder by the back of the neck out of the protection of Purdue's arms, and marched him below deck. "Come with me, Reggie, we have one more bottom to warm this afternoon." Mulder blushed bright red as he heard a few of the crew snicker behind his back. * * * Mulder tried to bury his nose even further into his little corner of the cabin. He shivered as a warm breeze blew in the open porthole high above his head. He stood naked, his soon to be punished bottom perfectly displayed for the men who sat behind him calmly discussing his fate. "You're right, Walter, it's a very nice backside but I'd still take the skin right off it, if it were up to me." Reggie smiled as his words caused another shudder to run through Fox's body. "I agree that he deserves to be harshly punished, Reggie, I'm just saying I don't want to scar his pretty bottom. I enjoy looking a it too much for that." "Well, I wouldn't want to deprive you of your fun, Walter, so I suppose that means the riding crop and the cat are out. But something has to be done with this wild-child. Sneaking out of your cabin, disobeying orders, letting himself be thrown overboard by someone he knew he couldn't trust. It's a pure wonder that Colton put him in that boat first." "Don't remind me.' Skinner lamented. "I had Tom all wrong. I would have trusted him with my life." "And well you could have. You just can't trust him with the life of your brat. You know, I cut a nice switch before we left the island. Figured I be needing it for one of my boys before this trip was over." That grabbed Mulder's attention. Who else was on the receiving end of Reggie's strong right arm? He heard the captain break into a fit of coughing as he choked on the coffee he had been calmly sipping. "Uh . . .yes," Skinner sputtered, "That should keep Fox standing up for a day or two. First I need to address his going ashore without permission. When I'm done with him, it's your turn." "Agreed! Would you mind getting my switch from my cabin, Walter." Mulder was shaking again. He felt the muscles in his bare bottom clinch tightly as the men finally settled on what they considered to be an apt punishment for him. He heard the cabin door close as the captain went to fetch the dreaded switch. "You can stop all the quivering, little boy," Reggie scolded. "You deserve everything you're about to get and more. In fact, if you weren't the captain's darling little cabin boy, you'd be laying over a barrel right beside Colton this very minute." "Ye . . .yes, sir." Mulder heard Skinner return, then a long, agonizing moment of silence. "Come over here, Fox. I think a good over-the-knee spanking will suffice for going ashore without permission. Maybe next time you decide to wander off you'll remember how humiliating it was for a grown man, to be kicking and crying while he gets his bare bottom soundly smacked." Mulder slowly turned to find Skinner once again seated on the stool in front of his desk, patting his knee invitingly. Mulder reluctantly forced himself to cross the room, lowering his body over his captain's lap. He glanced up to see Reggie watching him. He was mortified that the older man was going to be a witness to him being spanked like a child. Skinner wasted little time. He trapped Mulder's cock and balls between his strong thighs, forcing the cabin boy to spread his legs, fully exposing every inch of his bottom for the captain's punishing hand. The first smack burned like fire. The cabin boy squeezed his eyes shut, grabbing hold of the captain's leg for support as the big, punishing hand came down again and again on his bare butt. "You will not," Smack! Smack! "disobey," Smack! Smack! Smack! "my orders," Smack! Smack! "again!" Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Mulder's bottom was on fire within a matter of seconds. He gasped as the firm, determined hand visited first one cheek and then the other. The cabin boy barely had time to feel the sting of one hard slap before another was landing on his tormented bottom. Tears began to drip off the end of his nose, forming a dismal little puddle on the floor below, as he fought desperately to keep the sobs from escaping his lips. Skinner moved down to the backs of the tender thighs, turning them as red as the bottom he had just attended. Mulder howled. The captain, unmoved by his cabin boy's dire distress, began to slap the inside of the right thigh. Mulder screamed, moving his legs together to protect the overly-sensitive area. Skinner paused to roughly shove his legs back apart. "Leave them open or I'll make you wish you had." Mulder tried, he really did, but Skinner was still working on the inside of that right thigh and the sting was unbearable. The cabin boy pulled his legs back together. This time, the captain didn't say a word, he just moved his hand up to pull the deep crevice dividing the two scorched buttocks apart, and began slapping the delicate flesh that he found within. Mulder panicked. He threw his head up, howling his anguish to the ceiling. Finally getting his body to respond to his brain's urgent commands, he spread his legs widely apart, surrendering his thighs in rueful exchange for Skinner's newfound target, one that must be protected at all cost. The captain immediately switched his attention back to the inside of that tortured right thigh, pulling the skin taught as he slapped at the soft skin. Once he was satisfied that the area had been thoroughly blistered, he concentrated his efforts on the inside of the left thigh. He gave it the same intensive treatment, deftly ignoring his cabin boy's pleas for mercy as Fox valiantly kept his legs spread wide, unwillingly assisting in his own torture. Mulder sobbed, begged, promised, and pleaded, not caring that the men on deck could hear his suffering. Not caring that Reggie was watching him wiggle and cry like a five year old over his papa's knee. The only thing he cared about was the rise and fall of Skinner's fiery hand. The captain was burning him up! Finally Skinner abandoned the flaming thighs to turn his unwanted attention back to the patiently waiting bottom, applying yet another stinging round of slaps to the red-hot, sore mounds. At long last, Mulder lay limply over his captain's knee, his body jerking with each new slap, his crying a steady declaration of his absolute misery. "Are you ever going to disobey me again?" Smack! Smack! Smack! "No! No, never. Ah-h-h-h! I promise! I promise!" "This is the worst spanking I've ever given you, Fox." Smack! Smack! Smack! "Do you know why that is?" "Ouch! Oh! Please! Life . . .danger!" "That's exactly right!' Skinner applied several more blistering smacks to the fleshiest part of each buttock. "I hope you remember this for a long time!" "Ouch-h-h-h! I will! I will!" Skinner stopped, "And once Reggie has applied his switch to these," Skinner patted the flaming globes causing the cabin boy to hiss in pain. "I really think you'll not want to sit down for quite some time, let alone get into any trouble." "Please, sir, I can't take the switch right now." Skinner rose, pulling the cabin boy with him. He kissed Fox soundly, then carefully deposited him bent over the desk. "You can and you will. It'll all be over soon, brat. I'll let you lay here for a little while and cool down before we proceed." Mulder's face flamed brighter than his butt as the two men took a seat behind him, talking of mundane affairs as they watched his scarlet bottom smoldering in the afternoon sun that filtered in through the open portholes. Mulder sniffed, feeling very sorry for himself. His bottom was too sore to touch, let alone to have a switch applied to it. Then he thought of Tom Colton who would be spending hours lying up on deck, raw and skinned from neck to knees. Reggie was right, the cabin boy was getting off easy. Fox's heart leapt as he heard a knock at the door. He didn't dare turn to see who had been admitted to witness his shame. He heard several voices talking softly, he was sure one of the men was John Byers. "We need to finish this up, Fox." Skinner rubbed his back soothingly. "A ship has been spotted off starboard. It could be the Severed Heart." Mulder started to rise, "My sister!" "No Fox." Skinner pushed him gently back down onto the desk. "You're going to get the rest of your punishment and then you're going to be restricted to this cabin. Gentleman John is a dangerous man and I don't want him anywhere near you. Maybe if your bottom is sore enough, you'll obey my orders for a change. Are you ready, Reggie?" Skinner kept his hand planted firmly in the small of Mulder's back as the older captain came to stand behind the doomed man. The switch he held in his hand was short, only about eighteen inches long, thin and pliable. It would do little more than sting mightily. "I'm going to give you six. Hold on tight and try not to move. You're really going to feel these on that well-roasted butt of yours, little boy. Maybe the next time you decide you need to go ashore, you'll wait for permission." The cabin boy choked back a sob as he heard an ominous swish behind him, then his backside burst into white-hot flames. Nothing had prepared him for such anguish. He cried out, trying desperately to stand up. Anything to get his bottom out of the path of that horrible switch. Skinner's big hand held him tightly pressed against the desk, his burning butt an easy target for the next stroke of the highly effective little switch. The switch sang through the air again to land only an inch below the last fiery welt. Mulder screamed, thrashing on the table. "I swear, Fox," Reggie growled, trying desperately to hide the effect Fox's tears were having on him. "Punishing you is a trial in itself. One more than then I'll quit. I wouldn't want your soft- hearted captain here to all red-eyed and weepy when confronts Gentleman John. Whether or not I give you the other three lashes later will depend on whether you listen to Walter and stay in this cabin like he told you to do. You got that, little boy?" "Ye . . .yes, sir!" The switch flashed again, painting another excruciating stripe across the already red bottom in its path. Mulder screamed once more, sobbing his heart out onto Skinner's polished desk. The captain gently pulled his distraught cabin boy up into his arms, his own eyes glistening as he placed small, loving kisses all over Fox's tear-stained face. "I don't like to punish you like that, brat. Don't make me have to do it again. It hurts me worse than it hurts you." Mulder's head snapped up, wide incredulous eyes staring at the captain as if the other man had suddenly gone mad. "It does hurt me, brat," Skinner said defensively, then smiled evilly. "It's just that my hurt won't keep me from sitting down for the next few days." He gave his cabin boy another quick kiss before leading him over to lie face down on the bed. "Reggie, would you mind staying with him?" "Of course not," the older captain growled. "Why would I mind missing all the fun of a good fight while I stay down here watching over your brat like some damned wet-nurse." "Reggie . . ." "Oh go on with you. I'll take good care of him." The minute the captain had closed the door behind him, Reggie, got out the tin of ointment. He carefully smoothed the vile- smelling stuff over the cabin boy's hot, exposed butt. Mulder whimpered, looking over his shoulder, bottom lip trembling pitifully. "Save that for Walter, little boy." His gentle fingers contradicting the growl in his voice. "You know, part of your problem is that you just look like you need a good smack on the bottom. It wouldn't surprise me to learn that you spent most of your childhood upended over somebody's knee." "Not . . .not really, sir. My dad used to punish me sometimes. He never spanked Sam though. I . . .I used to take the blame for things she did so she wouldn't get in trouble." "And did she appreciate your sacrifice?" Mulder smiled, then grimaced as Reggie hit a particularly sore spot with his probing fingers. "Ye . . .yes, she always scolded me for doing it. She said she could take her own punishment as well as I could, but I couldn't stand to see her cry." Reggie pulled the light blanket up over the cabin boy, earning another hiss of pain as the cloth touched his sorely blistered bottom. "She was right. You're too quick to protect others, little boy, even when they don't deserve it. And how did you end up with Blevins?" "My parents were both killed when I was twelve and Samantha was eight. I finally managed to get Samantha situated in a good orphanage but it took all the money I could get to pay for her keep." Reggie pinched his bottom through the blanket, "And just how did you do that? Picking pockets?" "Ouch! No, sir! I worked in a woolen house." "A sweat-shop!" Reggie was appalled. "Most children die without ever seeing the outside of a place like that." "I was lucky, I guess, plus I'm a lot stronger than I look. After a few years, I had saved enough to pay Mary Scully to keep my sister while I came to America. Well, it wasn't really enough, but she's a kind-hearted woman. I'm going to pay her back once I 've earned enough money." "And just how do you plan to get this money?" "Well," Mulder hesitated, thinking hard. "I had planned to go to a port somewhere and get a job. There's always a call for a man who can read and write. But now Captain Skinner says I can't leave him so I guess I'll have to learn to be a real pirate so I can share in the ill-gotten gains." "Yes," Reggie said, hiding a smile behind his hand. "I can see that you have the perfect combination of evil character and lack of morality to become a genuine terror of the seas." "Do you really think so, sir?" Mulder asked, once again looking over his shoulder, eyes wide and hopeful. Reggie shook his head, still chuckling to himself. "Who taught you to read?" "An old man who was down on his luck. He lived in the same alley that I did. He had . . ." "You lived in a alley?" "I had to. It was the only way I had enough money to take care of Samantha properly. She was forever growing out of her dresses and shoes. Anyway, Mr. Wiggins had been a teacher before his wife and child died of the fever. From then on, he cared more about where he was going to get his next ale than about what his students learned. He was let go from his position and ended up begging on the streets. He was a good man, he'd just not been able to cope with the loss of his family." Mulder reached up to wipe a fresh tear from his eye before he continued with his story. "One day I traded one of the other street boys my coat for a book. I don't know where he got it, I was afraid to ask. Books are precious things, I only hope he didn't steal it." Mulder looked back at Reggie as if about to impart a great secret, "Some of those boys had very light fingers." "Do tell?" Fox nodded gravely, "Anyway, when he wasn't in his cups, Mr. Wiggins taught me to read and figure numbers. One of the local merchants had taken a liking to me for some reason and . . ." He stopped when Reggie started chuckling again. "What? All I did was rescue his dog from some kids who were going to hurt it. I tried to tell him he didn't owe me his gratitude for that, anyone would have done the same." "Of course they would have. Go on." "The merchant was a baker. He would give me a bit of his stale bread whenever he had any left. I shared it with Mr. Wiggins in exchange for his lessons. It was a more than fair trade." "Weren't you hungry yourself?" Mulder laughed, "I was always hungry whether I shared or not. Mr. Mendelson was a good baker so there wasn't ever much bread that didn't sell from his shop, but I knew I needed those lessons. As I said, it was a fair trade." "What happened to him?" Reggie glanced over to where Walter had come back in and stood silently listening to the story, hidden from the cabin boy's view. "Mr. Wiggins?" "Yes, what happened to your Mr. Wiggins?" "He died. It snowed one night, a real blizzard. It was so cold. I don't remember ever being that cold before or after. . ." "Well you given away your coat." Reggie held up his hand to belay the protest. "I know, you needed that book." Mulder nodded again before resuming his story, "I tried to keep him warm but he was already sick and I was so thin I didn't have much heat to share with him. He died before morning." Reggie ran a soothing hand through the trembling cabin boy's dark hair, "It wasn't your fault." "If only I'd had a blanket to give him," Fox lamented as his long lashes came down to rest on his cheeks. He was soon sound asleep. Reggie turned around in time to see the captain wipe an errant tear from his own eye. "How much of that did you hear?" "I came back in while he was telling you how he took spankings for his sister. Reggie, how did he ever survive?" "He survived," Reggie answered sadly, "because he's strong, resourceful and has enough integrity for ten men. Maybe Chester is right, maybe he is an angel." Skinner's eyes widened as both brows shot up his forehead. "Oh all right," Reggie chuckled. "I suppose that is stretching it a bit, but that's still one very special young man you have there." "That's why I plan to curb his reckless behavior once and for all. I'm sending Frohike down here to protect Fox. The sighted ship wasn't the Severed Heart but a merchant ship flying a Spanish flag. I've ordered it boarded and I wouldn't want you to miss the , old man." "Watch your mouth, boy. And speaking of Chester, should we order him in here as well? I wouldn't want him to get in the way should the Spanish ship put up a good defense." "No, that won't be necessary. I restricted him to the galley this morning. He was too young to see Colton suffering his punishment, and he'd throw a fit if he knew we'd spanked his grandfather's angel." Both men chuckled as they happily went above to loot and pillage the Spanish merchants. * * * As it tuned out, the Spanish sailors had been so shocked to see a naked man with a bright, red bottom glowing hotly in the afternoon sun, they hadn't even noticed when the Jolly Roger was raised above the Chauve Terreur. The pirates helped themselves to their cargo, sending the Spaniards peacefully on their way without the spilling of one drop of blood. Fox would have been so proud. Now Reggie and Skinner sat peacefully smoking their pipes as they watched the ocean drift by, moonlight flickering on the caps of the small waves caused by the passing of their ship. The captain was thinking about his cabin boy. Earlier he had held Fox on his lap while he fed him a good meal. Since hearing his story earlier, Skinner was even more determined that his cabin boy would never know hunger or cold again. The cabin boy had protested mightily that he was perfectly capable of feeding himself. But Skinner had insisted that he remain on his lap where he had tickled and teased the sulking Fox until the younger man had finally broken down laughing, his mood lightening immensely. The captain had stayed with him while Fox told him outrageous stories about his perfect, well-behaved sister. Stories that the captain doubted, although truth be known, he couldn't wait to meet Samantha. He was anxious to find out if she was as pretty, bright and generous as her brother. "You spoil him you know?" "How did you know I was thinking about Fox?" "It's the only time you smile like that. In fact, it's the only time you've smiled like that in years. I've missed my mischievous cabin boy." "I was never mischievous!' Skinner objected indignantly. "Oh really?" Reggie smiled. "So just who was it who snuck that damned alley cat on board ship. Damned thing nearly clawed poor old Spooner to death before he finally got hold of it. Then you wouldn't let him chuck the little monster overboard. We had to put up with it until we reached port." "It was catching the mice in the hole," Skinner pointed out in the cat's dubious defense. "You had it too well fed on our pickled herring for the thing to be interested in a mouse. Whole damned ship was infested with fleas before we figured out it was on board." "Well, I remember you turned me over your knee and paddled my bare butt in front of the whole crew for it. I was so embarrassed I thought I'd die, crying like a two year old while my ass turned bright red for everyone to see. Hurt like hell." "It was meant to hurt. And I wouldn't have stopped until you were crying your eyes out. You never had a chance." "Then I had to stand with my nose to the main mast and my pants around my ankles. I just knew everyone was looking at me." "You were a little boy, you didn't have much to see." "Well I did when I got older, and I still had to stand there after I'd been punished." "Yeah, the men enjoyed it more then. Just like they do with Fox now. He's a fine-looking boy." "That he is," Skinner smiled again. "The pretty ones are nothing but trouble. I learned that lesson with you." "I was never as pretty as Fox." "Don't be so sure. That cute little turned up nose and . . ." "Reggie." Skinner warned as he blushed furiously. Reggie chuckled, turning his glance to where Colton still lay, his red bottom illuminated by a glowing lantern. After close to eight hours over the barrel, the well-punished man had finally quieted down. He now lay limp and exhausted. "I was hard on him." "He'll live. I hope you know, Walter, that one trouble. You should throw him off the ship before he tries to hurt Fox again." "I think he's learned his lesson. Which reminds me, I'm a little concerned about Robert Modell. I went in to check on him today and he wouldn't even wake up to talk to me. Pale as death and there are those little pellets all over his floor. Should I send one of the men in to find that bat?" "Leave the bat be, Walter. He and I have come to an agreement." "Excuse me? You know Reggie, sometimes I worry about you, too." "Save it for your brat, Walter. I think that's as much as you can handle for the moment." "I don't know what to do about Fox's sister," the captain confessed. "It would take too long to go to England to check on her. We have no idea where the Severed Heart is at the moment, and we can't just go wandering around the south seas hoping to run into it." "Well the way I see it," Reggie eyed the star-studded skies as he gathered his thoughts, "we can either go back to the island hoping Gentleman John will make another try for Fox, or we can go back and have a little talk with Mr. Blevins. Has your cabin boy said what he thinks we should do?" Skinner looked at his former captain in amazement. "He's just a kid! How would he know what we should do?" Reggie stared at him, one eyebrow raised high. "Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes, boy. I don't have to tell you Fox's a smart kid. Has a way of getting into peoples heads, almost like he knows what they're gonna' do next. So what did he say that you don't want to tell me about?" Skinner sighed heavily, "He thinks Roche is looking for him. He wants to go back to the island and put himself out as bait." The captain sounded so disheartened at that thought, that Reggie couldn't stop the chuckle that rose in his throat. "It's not funny! I couldn't protect him last time. What makes you think I could do it next time?" "You would." "I'm glad you're so damned sure of that, cause I'm sure not. And besides I'd really like to have a little talk with Blevins. Do you know that bastard starved Fox, locked him in that damned counting house day and night, didn't even have the decency to give him a warm blanket or a coat, and then tried to rape him?" "It's the way indentured servants are often treated, Walter. You know that. It's a hard life they choose in exchange for the slim chance of a better one." "Not much of a choice! Fox has fought for everything he's ever gotten, and it's been precious little if you ask me. And it may well be the way penniless, little orphan boys are treated but Blevins is going to regret that he dealt with that Fox in such a way." "It would seem the little orphan boy's luck has taken a turn for the better." "I keep thinking what would have happened to him if the Chauve Terreur hadn't been in that particular port on that particular night, or if I had gone with the men to the pub instead of staying on board, or if . . ." "He was meant to belong to you, Walter, just as we're meant to find his sister." Reggie grinned as he made a sweeping gesture at the night-blackened skies. "It was written in the stars." "Imagine that, a cut-throat, old reprobate of a pirate with the heart of a poet," Skinner teased. Reggie chuckled as he continued to puff contentedly on his pipe, "You'd better go below and cuddle up with your orphan. If he wakes up to find you missing, he'll start searching the ship. And once Fox is on the prowl, all hell will break loose again." "Excellent idea, my captain." Skinner rose, hesitating only long enough to affectingly squeeze Reggie's shoulder. "Thanks, Reggie. For everything." "Even the hot bottoms?" "Even those." "Don't be thanking me too soon, Walter Skinner. Don't you forget that I can still take you in hand if you stray from the path. The day I'm too old to weld my old strop on your bare bottom is the day you can pitch my lifeless body into the sea." "I would hope that day is far in the future, old man." "Humph!" Both men's heads snapped up as Fox's scream tore through the night. They arrived at the cabin to find Fox fighting a losing battle with the blankets that had somehow become wrapped around his lower body. "Stop! Let me go! I'm not dead yet! Can't you hear me? I'M NOT DEAD YET!" The captain braved the thrashing arms and kicking feet without a moment's hesitation, freeing the cabin boy from his blanket prison and pulling him into his lap. Mulder shuddered in his arms, shaking from head to foot. "Sh-h-h-h, it's all right, my beauty, it was just a nightmare. I have you now." "So cold," Mulder whispered, as he continued to shiver in his captain's strong arms. The captain wrapped the blanket around his cabin boy, looking up over the dark head nestled under his chin to the older captain who stood watching from the doorway. "It's all right, Reggie. I'll get him calmed down and back in bed. He'll be fine now." Reggie nodded, giving Fox one long, uneasy look before pulling the door shut behind him. The captain continued to rock the trembling man in his arms long after Reggie had gone to find his bed. The hot tears had ceased to soak through his shirt and the worst of the trembling had been reduced to the occasional hard shudder. "Tell me about it." "N . . not much to tell, really. Reggie and I were talking about a friend of mine from London earlier, and I guess it brought back some old memories, that's all." "Mr. Wiggins?" "You heard?" "I heard." "I had pulled him into an empty doorway, trying to shelter him as much as I could, but the snow was blowing so hard I couldn't keep it off him. He was soaked to the skin. We both were. But while I was shivering so hard my teeth were rattling, he was burning from the inside out. I tried to cover as much of him as I could with my own body, but I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew some men were pulling at me. They . . .they loaded him on a cart like he was just another piece of garbage." "And you?" "They tried to load me on the wagon, too. I kept telling them I wasn't dead yet but they just laughed and said it wouldn't be long from the looks of me. I kicked one of them in the knee, he let loose of me long enough for me to run." A sob broke free from somewhere very deep in the cabin boy's chest. "I ran away and left poor Mr. Wiggins lying on that dead-cart all by himself." Skinner pulled him tighter against his chest, "Reggie was right when he told you it wasn't your fault. You kept him alive as long as you could. You were just a child." "I don't remember ever being a child." Mulder laughed. It was a cold, joyless sound. "Even before you were orphaned?" "My father worked for the King. He stayed at the palace most of the time and when he came home, he was . . ." "What, Fox? He was what?" "Angry, I suppose, and sad somehow. My mother would try to talk to him but he wouldn't discuss his duty to the king. He would sit up all night, drinking his ale. I tried to stay away from him. If I got too close, he would hit me. He never hit my mother or Samantha though. I was always glad of that." "And he was murdered?" "Yes. He had just gotten home when I upset him yet again. I . . .I thought he'd never stop beating me that night. When he finally threw down his strap, he told me that I could sleep in the barn with the rest of the swine. Th . . .those were the last words I ever heard him say to me. I remember it was frightfully cold that night, and I only had on my nightshirt. I tried to snuggle down under the straw but I was still so terribly cold." The cabin boy took a hitching breath. Skinner didn't press him to continue, just tightened his arms around the trembling body. "I heard the barn door open. At first I was afraid it was my father come to punish me some more, but it was Samantha. She had snuck out of the house with a heavy blanket. She snuggled in beside me, pulling the blanket up over the both of us and held me while I cried. Then we heard shouting coming from outside. There were about a hundred men in black armor in our yard. My father came running out of the house and at least a dozen arrows lodged in his chest. Then I heard my mother scream, and . . .and the same thing happened to her." Skinner kissed the top of the cabin boy's head, again waiting patiently for him to get hold of his emotions and resume his story. "I . . .I grabbed Samantha's hand and we crept out of the back of the barn and into the forest. We watched while the men burned our house and the barn. My father and mother's bodies burned with the house I suppose." "Do you know why they were killed?" "No. I never tried to find out. From then on, all I had time for was making sure Samantha was fed." "And then you sold yourself to Blevins?" Skinner spit out, unable to hide the malice from his voice. "I didn't actually sell myself to Mr. Blevins. I made a deal with the captain of the ship, he sold my papers when we reached port. There was a sort of auction for the few of us who had survived the voyage. I knew I was in trouble with Blevins right from the very start. He made the captain strip me of my clothing for a public inspection. None of the other men had to do that. It was so humiliating, everyone was looking at me as I stood there all alone and naked while Blevins did his examination. He was very thorough." The captain carefully scooted down into the bed, pulling his emotionally drained cabin boy with him. Fox was asleep on his chest within minutes. Skinner kissed the top of his head. Skinner lay there gritting his teeth together until he was sure they would turn to powder in his mouth. He was more certain that ever that the good Mr. Blevins would pay for his sins against this young man. * * * Known only as Red Willie for as long as he could remember, the first mate of the Severed Heart had grown up on the streets in the worst part of London. He'd survived mostly because he was bigger, meaner and more of a bully than any of the other boys, and most of the men. His mother had been a working girl until the day the men from Bedlam had come to take her away as she screamed and babbled about giant bugs in her shoes. Five-year-old Willie was told that the prostitute known only as, Black Irish, had gone mad from the whore-sickness. That was right before they threw him out of their rat-infested boarding-house to make his own way on the streets. He had learned to survive, fast and hard. As he reached his manhood, the life of a pirate had come naturally to Red Willie, presenting him with an outlet for his long- suppressed rage as well as a way to use his inherent talent for intimidation to line his pockets with gold. He had sailed with Gentleman John for almost three years now, gaining the vast wealth that was a part of serving under a man like John Lee Roche, one of the most vicious, amoral men to ever call himself 'pirate'. But truth be told, Willie had shamelessly rejoiced in the wanton, cold-blooded way the captain of the Severed Heart had annulated the crew of any vessel unlucky enough to cross his path. But now as he watched his captain's agitated pacing and disjoined grumbles, he was reminded far too much of his mother's crazy behavior. It was the only thing that truly scared Red Willie. He was terrified that one day he would end up like his mother. He didn't want to be anywhere around someone who had gone mad and that included Captain John Lee Roche. And then there was another problem he'd been having lately, ever since they picked up that girl and her preaching nanny . . . "ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?" Gentleman John screeched, his usual gentle monotone long ago abandoned. "Keep that preacher woman away from the men, do you hear me, Willie? She's all but talked them into pitching all of our rum barrels overboard! And yesterday I caught Two-Tooth Ted trying to knit a sweater for the poor instead of mending the sail. This ship is coming down around our very ears!" "As I've told you, Gentleman John, we'll be at Suave L'ile in just three days." The first mate's face paled noticeably as his volatile captain turned rabid, black eyes in his direction. "Uh . . .two days! I meant two days, sir. I'll push the men harder." "See that you do! And where has that damned girl gotten off to now. You have to watch her every minute, Willie, she's a sly one." "Yes, rest assured I'm watching her, sir. Why, I hardly ever take my eyes off that girl." "Good! Good job, boy. I knew I could depend on you." John Roche began his lunatic pacing once more. "So where is she?" "At the moment she and old Charlie Vine are searching the ship. She said something about helping a poor lost soul that needed to find the light." "What the hell does that mean?" "I think she was referring to a ghost, captain." Red Willie cringed as he waited for the inevitable explosion. He was not disappointed. "WHAT! Last week it was trolls in the flour bins and before that she had half the crew afraid to go near the ship's hole. Claimed the rats had been demon-possessed!" Gentleman John paced in tight little circles, hands clasped tightly behind his back, muttering incoherently to himself. "I've got to get her off my ship . . .no amount of gold is worth . . .I've got to get her off my ship . . .bewitched them. . .she's evil. . .I should have had her brother instead . . .I just bet he doesn't cause Skinner this kind of trouble . . .such a pretty boy . . . I've got to get her off my ship . . ." "Uh . . .yes well, I'll . . .uh, be going now . . ." Willie quietly slunk away while his insane captain continued to pace and mumble. * * * Skinner patted the mattress beside him as he leered at Fox from across the cabin. "Put that brush down and come get in bed with me, or would you prefer I warm your backside with it?" "But I'm not finished polishing your boots." Mulder looked over at his captain, bottom lip stuck invitingly. Skinner felt his heart melt. Between those eyes and that mouth, the boy could charm the devil himself into forgetting his desire to sin. The captain sighed heavily, "If I'd known you were going to take your responsibilities so seriously, I would never have made you my cabin boy." Mulder's head jerked up, alarmed. "You . . .you would have left me in that counting house?" "Of course not!" "That's it, isn't it? You're sorry you ever got saddled with me but now you're just too nice to throw me off your ship." "I'm not nice!" Skinner declared, highly offended. "I'm the captain of the most feared pirate ship in the Caribbean!" Mulder turned away, wiping discretely at his eyes. "Reggie says you saved a kitty." "Wh . . .wh . . .WHAT? I was ten years old! That doesn't count!" "Was still nice." "Shut up and get over here! And stop talking to Reggie Purdue!" Mulder sighed as he put away his boot brush, tugging off his clothing as he walked to the bed. He had to admit it felt good. The blankets were so soft and the captain was so warm. "If you hadn't made me your cabin boy, and you did go ahead and rescue me from the counting house, would you have made me into a cold-blooded pirate?" "Sure. Right." Skinner snickered. "Hey! I'd make a good pirate!" "Really? How do you figure that?" "I like to help people." Skinner rolled his eyes, "Pirates don't people, Fox. We steal their treasure. How many times do we have to go over that basic concept?" Mulder looked up at the captain through thick lashes, a vivid blush rising to his cheeks. "I stole something once," he whispered. "Oh I can't wait to hear this! Let me guess. A poor little flower girl swooned from hunger, and you stole an apple from a street- vendor to save her life. Right?" Mulder eyes sparkled with mirth, white teeth gleaming in his beautiful tanned face. "Captain Skinner, you certainly got that one all wrong! You aren't even close!" Mulder laughed happily as his captain grinned back, enchanted. "She was a widow lady and I stole a whole pork-pie for her." Skinner's smile faded as his mouth dropped open, "You're joking, right?" "Why would I joke about something like that? Stealing is a serious offense. I would have been in big trouble if I'd gotten caught." "What happened to her? Did she die on the street like your tutor, Mr. Wiggins?" "Oh no! Once she ate the pie and wasn't dizzy anymore, I took her to Mr. Mendelson's Bakery. I told him I wanted him to start giving her his stale bread instead of me, but he married her instead." "WHAT!" "Well he didn't marry her that day or anything. He said I was too skinny to give away my bread, and he better not be hearing any more about me sharing it with every beggar on the street either. He gave me a swat on my backside and Peggy a job washing pans. Well, one thing kind of led to another," Fox shrugged his shoulders, "and they got married." "I don't believe that story," "It's true! After Peggy and Mr. Mendelson got married, they wanted to adopt me but I couldn't do that. I had to keep working to support Samantha. Besides I was too old to adopt, I just looked younger." "Imagine that." Skinner shook his head, "Did they still give you the stale bread." "Yes they did. And sometimes I got milk, too. I really liked that . . . and so did Mr. Wiggins." Mulder stopped when his captain groaned miserably. "Are you all right, sir?" "Yes, I'm fine. I just got a much too clear vision of a skinny, half- starved kid giving his precious milk to a worthless, old drunk, that's all." "Mr. Wiggins wasn't a worthless, old drunk! He was . . . was a tragic figure." Mulder nodded once, very seriously, hoping to add weight to his words. He was disappointed by not surprised when his captain still looked less than impressed. "Right, tragic. Continue, brat." "Anyway, getting back to my point. I'm an experienced thief and would make an excellent pirate, if I do say so myself." "And what will you do when we attack a fat merchant ship? Invite the crew to tea?" Mulder's brows furrowed he eyed his captain, "Frohike said you weren't telling me the truth about that. What you do with them?" "Uhm-m-m-, uh, nothing you need to worry about. What if we find another scalawag drifting on a raft. You going to save that one's ass, too?" "No, sir! I've learned my lesson about that. Of course, we'll have to pick him up. That's only right. But he can't come live with us." Mulder gave his captain a chiding look. "And that's final!" "I didn't . . ." "Yes, you did. Just ask Reggie. He says you always did collect strays. Of course he was upset with at the time, and . . ." "Reggie talks to much. You know, Fox, sometimes I just think you're too good to be true. Don't you ever do anything petty or cruel or just plain mean?" Mulder shrugged, "I'm no angel, no matter what Chester Bonaparte might try to tell you. I know I'm reckless and annoying, and cause you no end of trouble. Mother Maggie says . . ." "No! Don't say it!" Skinner ran a hand over the soft skin of his cabin boy's abdomen, preparing to tickle him unmercifully for mentioning that . . . that . . . woman's name again, when Fox's stomach rumbled loudly from under his hand. The captain immediately sat up, his eyes wide with alarm. "Are you hungry?" Mulder looked over at him warily, "Just a little. It's been a while since dinner. I'll be fine until morning." "No! You're never going to go to bed hungry again. Go to the galley and bring something back here to eat." "But, the cook doesn't like . . ." "You let me worry about the cook. Now go!" Mulder rolled his eyes as he crawled out of his warm bed, pulling his clothing back on as he headed for the door. "And Fox . . ." The cabin boy turned, "What?" "Try not to rescue any damsels in distress while you're gone . . . my angel." The captain chuckled as he watched his cabin boy cringe at Chester's name for him. Mulder made what he considered his most dangerous face, "Don't call me that!" Once Fox had closed the door behind him, Skinner turned onto his back, chuckling up at the ceiling. And just maybe Chester's right, Skinner thought. Fox may well be an angel. The captain had certainly never met anyone else who was that generous and kind-hearted. The captain snorted as he thought about his cabin boy as a pirate. "That boy couldn't hurt a flea if it was biting him on the butt!" he chortled to himself. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU . . .you . . .you scum-sucking bastard! You bottom hugging, rat-eating, swamp-dwelling son of a . . .!" The next thing the captain knew, he was standing in the middle of his cabin, stark naked, watching as his sweet, compassionate cabin boy beat the living shit out of Lucius Hartwell. All the while using language that would have made every last man of the Sauve Terreur crew blush like school-girls. Skinner was too stunned to react. "You son-of-a-one-eyed, buck-toothed, plague-ridden-whore!" Lucius grabbed the cabin boys wrists, his eyes staring up wide with wonder. "How do you know my mother?" "Ah-h-h-h-h-h! I never met your mother! I was only guessing! You stupid, dull-witted, son-of-a . . ." "No, my angel!" The captain shook his head to clear a little more as Chester Bonaparte rushed into the cabin, dropping the tray of food he was carrying as he reached to pull Fox off of Lucius Hartwell. "Angel, stop! He is dangerous! He will hurt you, angel!" "He . . .he . . .the captain . . .kissing him . . .Ah-h-h-h-h!" Skinner lifted his hand up to touch his still tingling lips. He had no idea why Lucius was in his cabin, or why Fox was rolling around on the floor pounding the poor man's face with his fists. And where had the cabin boy learned to swear like that? Skinner was sure he recognized at least six different languages in the colorful tirade that spewed from the younger man's pretty lips. "Fox?" Skinner managed to choke out, surprised that his voice was little more than a raspy croak. Mulder spared one quick glance for his bewildered captain before returning his attention to his dumbfounded victim. Lucius wasn't sure exactly how to handle this unexpected situation. No one had dared to attack him for well over a hundred years, and the cabin boy was so enraged he didn't even notice that his blows were harmlessly bouncing off the vampire's face. Lucius wrapped his arms and legs around the hissing alley-cat on top of him, trapping Mulder tightly against his body. If he hurt the cabin boy, Skinner would let him in their bed. Hartwell watched as Mulder screamed, and spit and cursed incoherently. Then the cabin boy bared his teeth and went for Lucius' exposed throat. If the vampire hadn't been so busy trying to subdue the tempestuous young man, he would have laughed until he cried. The little shit had actually tried to bite him! Skinner finally got his wits about him enough to reach down and pull his cabin boy off the other man. Lucius hurriedly got to his feet, keeping his hands over his face so no one would notice the absence of both blood and bruises. Next time he'd have to remember to mesmerize the two men at the same time. He'd thought that Skinner would be one who might jealously object to the vampire's planned seduction of the two mortals. It was now clear to Lucius that he had seriously underestimated the cabin boy. The vampire turned to leave just as Fox let out another angry growl and made a lunge for the retreating man. Skinner acted quickly, pulling his enraged cabin boy up and over his shoulder, trapping his body with one strong arm locked around his madly kicking legs. He slapped the bottom so conveniently positioned over his shoulder. "No! No, you cannot do that!" Chester cried. "You must never hit an angel!" "What the hell is going on in here?" Reggie shouted as he barreled through the cabin door, long sword at the ready, just in time to see the captain deliver another stinging swat to his cursing cabin boy's upturned, trouser-covered butt. "The captain is beating my grandfather's angel," Chester wailed, tears running down his smooth cheeks. Reggie eyed the captain and the hissing, spitting bundle he had trapped over his shoulder. "I repeat . . .what the hell is going on in here?" "It would seem," Captain Skinner informed, "That angels have tempers, and turn into dirty, little street-fighters when provoked." "And I bet I know just who provoked him," Reggie glared at Lucius, who had the good grace to look sheepishly away. "Get out of here, Hartwell! And Chester, you go to bed or you'll be the one who's feeling a hand applied to your backside." Both of them wisely fled the room. "As for you," Reggie gave the captain a quelling look. "Put that boy to bed and you owe him an apology while you're at it." Reggie let out a couple of exasperated grunts, mumbling something about it being impossible for a decent man to get a good night's sleep aboard this blasted pirate ship, as he slammed the door behind him. The captain stood staring at the closed door for a long moment. He had no idea why Reggie thought he needed to apologize to Fox. Meanwhile, his cabin boy had finally settled down, now lying tensely over his shoulder, breathing hard and fast. "Are you ready to be put down?" "Whatever." Skinner cautiously lowered Fox to stand in front of him, where he continued to glare at his captain. "Want to tell me what that was all about?" "You're trying to tell me that you don't know what I saw when I walked back in this cabin?" "I would think it was Lucius Hartwell, a man who saved your life, by the way," Skinner reminded, "and I having a discussion about . . .about . . ." Skinner trailed off, not remembering exactly what Lucius had come to his cabin to discuss. Not remembering Lucius coming to his cabin at all. He suddenly felt very dizzy and a little weak in his knees. "Discussion? DISCUSSION! You . . .you were . . .were . . . KISSING HIM!" "I was !" "You . . .you . . .he . . .Ah-h-h-h-h!" Seeing that Fox was working himself into another good temper- tantrum, the captain pulled the cabin boy tightly against his chest, smothering any further accusations of wrongdoing on his part by a hard, soul-jarring kiss. When he finally released the cabin boy, Fox was glassy-eyed and leaning heavily against him. "We're both tired." Skinner ran a soothing hand through Mulder's thick, dark hair. "I'm not sure what happened here, but if Reggie thinks I owe you an apology, then you shall have one. I'm sorry, Fox . . .for whatever. Now, let's both get a good night sleep and we'll talk about it some more in the morning." "Humph!" Mulder pulled himself away from his captain's embrace, tugging at his clothing. Once in bed, Skinner tried to pull his into his arms but the cabin boy was having none of it. He lay on his own side, stiff as a wooden plank, staring angrily at the ceiling. Hours later, still seething, Mulder looked up into the sympathetic eyes of the ghost of old Stubby. The apparition smiled down at him kindly. "You've had a busy night." "Humph!" Stubby chuckled as he chewed on that ever-present pipe of his, "Well this should put to rest any fears your captain has about you not being able to hold your own in a good fight." "Humph!" "You're certainly well-spoken tonight." Stubby chuckled again. "Forget about it, cabin boy. It wasn't your captain's fault." "But he . . ." "Got himself in a pickle. I know." Stubby reached down, placing one feather-light hand on Mulder's forehead, then slowly drawing it down to his chin. As it passed his eyes, the cabin boy immediately feel into a deep, peaceful sleep. "Let it go, Fox. Your captain was not to blame. Rest assured your kisses are the only ones he craves." Skinner was surprised and relieved the next morning to have his cabin boy back in good humor. In fact, Fox remembered as little of the happenings of the night before as did his captain. * * * "Land ho!" Gentleman John Roche let his head fall gratefully into his hands. He didn't think he'd ever heard such welcome words. * * * Napoleon stood watching as the Severed Heart dropped anchor a few miles off shore. With Captain Skinner, Mr. Byers and Mr. Purdue all off the island, Napoleon determined that put him in charge. He turned to the two men standing beside him. One was the powerful, no-nonsense chieftain of the island natives, Mista-Ex. He stood a good deal over six foot tall, powerfully built and not a trace of good-will in his solemn, angry face. "If they set foot on my island, my warriors will deal with them with deadly severity. Not a man will be left standing. The oceans will run red with their blood!" Napoleon eyed the big warrior king. "Ok-a-a-a-y, so much for settling this peacefully." The captain's adopted son turned to the other man. "What about you, Clyde, what do you think?" Clyde Bruckman bit down on the well-chewed stem of his hand- carved pipe. He had been a pirate for more years than most of the men on this island had been alive, and had the cantankerous nature to prove it. "Word is that the new cabin boy, what the hell's his name again, Beaver, Sea Urchin, some such thing?" "It's Fox, Clyde. His name is Fox." "Oh that's right. Stupid name. Nice kid though, nosey as hell. I remember once in the summer of '56 there was this boy . . ." "Uh, Mr. Bruckman?" Napoleon interrupted. "I don't mean to stop you in the middle of one of your stories but . . ." "About damned time somebody stopped him. Bores everyone on this island nearly to death with that dribble." Mista-Ex grumbled. "Jealous, jungle-boy?" "Who're you calling a , old man?" "If the money-fur panties fit . . ." "These are not panties! This is a ceremonial breech-cloth that has been worn by the leaders of my tribe for hundreds of years!" "Smells like it too," Clyde scrunched up his nose distastefully. "Don't ya' ever wash that thing?" "How dare you insult the. . ." Napoleon threw up his hands. "Please, I need your help here. What were you going to say about Fox, Clyde?" "Huh?" "We were talking about the Severed Heart," Napoleon prompted. "And you said something about hearing that the cabin boy . . ." He stopped, looking at Clyde hopefully. "Oh, I was just going to say that I'd heard that the boy's little sister might be on Gentleman John's ship. We gotta' be mighty careful. Walter would be real upset if we got her killed. He seems to be overly fond of Snake." Clyde scratched at his balding head. "Still think that's a damned stupid name." "I say we attack with deadly purpose!" MistaEx thumped the end of his spear on the hard-packed sand. "Great idea, chimp-lover." Clyde sneered, earning another enraged growl from the big native. "In case you haven't noticed that ship has about a hundred cannons, and it's crew is armed to the teeth with muskets and swords. But I'll tell you what, you go get your shark-tooth spears and a couple of big rocks, and I'll go get the Sanctimonious Sisters with their knittin' needles and we'll just give that old Gentleman John a real run for his money . . .or maybe just a real good laugh. What'd ya'say?" "So what do we do, Clyde?" Napoleon spared an anxious glance for the smoldering tribal leader. "You say we can't mount a direct attack, but we can't just sit here and wait for that evil pirate to come ashore either. So what do we do?" "We use our heads, boy. I've noticed that one of those pesky vampires, Eddie Van-something or other, looks a whole lot like Gazelle, or whatever the hell that kid's name is." "Eddie VanBlundht?" Napoleon questioned, shaking his head. "He doesn't look like Fox at all. In fact, I think he very closely resembles Captain Skinner." "No he doesn't!" MistaEx corrected vehemently, "He looks exactly like that fine gentleman, Reggie Purdue." The three confused men stood gaping at each other. Finally Clyde found his voice. "Well I say he looks just like that Halibut kid. Our best bet is to lay a trap for Gentleman John using Eddie VanWhatsit as bait. Get the upper hand before that ship has a chance to attack us first." "Excellent idea! And I'll organize the Sanctimonious Sisters into His own righteous army." "Ah-h-h-h-h." The three men cringed, backing to a safe distance as Mother Maggie marched onto the beach, eyes flashing with the promise of hell and brimstone for all who dared to sin. * * * "Look! Look!" Gentleman John called excitedly as he shoved his spyglass into the hands of his first mate. "It's her! It's her! I know it's her!" "It's who, captain?" "That . . .that . . .woman's sister. See her there on shore? See how those big, strong men are trying to slink away from her? See how she has that one arm raised to the sky calling down the wrath of the almighty on their poor, innocent heads? It's her, I tell you! It can't be anyone else!" "So? Mary Scully told you her sister lived on this island, it's why we came back here." Red Willie's reservations about his captain's waning sanity were growing in leaps and bounds. "But don't you see? Now we don't have to set foot on that blasted island. We just chuck that . . .that . . .woman onto a dingy and give it a good shove toward shore." Willie studied said shore through the somewhat blurry magnification of the spyglass. The woman had dropped to her knees now and seemed to be harping at her three companions to do the same. The three men, on the other hand, looked like they wanted nothing more than to slither away into the jungle. The first mate moved the spy glass, looking around the island. It really was a beautiful place. Maybe he should see if Captain Skinner could use another pirate aboard the Suave Terreur. It sure looked like the crew of the Severed Heart were all going to be looking for new positions soon. The captain had gone as mad as a speckled Loon. "What's that over there?" Roche asked as he pointed to a small speck in the water a few hundred yards from the ship. John Lee grabbed the spyglass, putting it up to his own eye before letting forth with a torrid of curses that would have brought the full self- righteous wrath of Mary Scully down on him in a heartbeat. "It's her! It's her!" "You already said that," Willie sighed in exasperation. "Mary Scully's sister." "No, you fool! It's that damned girl. She's swimming to shore!" "I'll go get her, sir." "You're a good and loyal man, Red Willie." "Uh-huh." Red Willie turned on his heel, heading for one of the dinghies stored on deck. His hand came up to rest against the bag of gold tied securely under his shirt. He was a loyal kinda' guy all right. The End Chapter 7 The Cabin Boy - Part 4/4 By: DiAnn "Get your hands off me, you scoundrel!" Red Willie rolled his eyes heavenward. He had been attempting for the last quarter hour to get the sodden Samantha into the tiny dinghy and safely ashore. "Will you just take my hand so I can pull you out of the blasted water. You're going to drown out there, you little idiot!" "Idiot, am I!" Samantha shook her fist at the big, red-headed seaman, as her heavy, wet skirts tried to pull her under yet again. "You'll not lay a hand on me, you . . .you bastard!" "Tsk-tsk-tsk, such language." Red Willie smiled widely as a pretty blush lit Samantha's wet cheeks. Her hair spread out around her like a soft, dark cloud, her sparkling hazel eyes shooting sparks of pure rage at him. Deciding that the world could ill afford to lose such an enchanting creature, the seaman reached down with one massive arm and hauled the struggling, drenched woman up and into his lap. "Ah-h-h-h! How dare you. Unhand me this instant!" "You'll be lucky if I don't apply that hand to your backside." Samantha gasped in outrage. "You lay one hand on me, you bastard, and I'll . . .I'll . . ." "I wouldn't dare," Willie chuckled as he settled Samantha on the seat across from his own. "Now, just calm down and I'll row us ashore." Samantha huffed irately, lunging to her feet, then screamed as the little dinghy titled dangerously. She sat back down, both hands gripping the side of the boat with whitened knuckles. She seethed as Red Willie laughed at her again. "You're a little spitfire, Samantha." "You may call me Miss Mulder, you bas . . .scoundrel!" Willie chuckled yet again as he watched Samantha try to shake some of the water out of her long locks without having to let go of the edge of the boat. "You're very beautiful, Miss Mulder." "And you're very improper, sir." Samantha sniffed at his grinning face, turning to watch the quickly approaching shore. She noted the three people standing there watching them. She hoped they were not more dastardly pirates, she'd had quite enough of their ilk, thank you very much. Willie effortlessly pulled the dinghy ashore, scooping Samantha up in his arms and carrying her through the last few feet of water. "Put me down!" Willie bounced her a couple of times in his muscular arms. "Put you down? Now? Are you sure, Miss Mulder?" Sam yelped, throwing her arms around the hated pirate's neck. Realizing what she had done, she released him like he was made of fire, only to be bounced again and repeating her frantic clutch at the man's neck. "Stop that! If you're any kind of gentleman at all, sir, you'll put me down on shore and stop these silly games." "Hardly a silly game, sweetheart. Someday you'll cling to me and love every minute of it." "Never!" Samantha huffed as her feet finally settled on the sandy beach. She breathed a sigh of relief. Dry land at last. She looked around to see her erstwhile rescuer holding both hands in the air, his eyes on the others who had been waiting on shore. She turned to the group, apprehension in her pretty hazel eyes. "No need to be afraid, my dear." Mother Maggie smiled at the trembling woman. "Everything will be fine now. You're among friends here." "Are you the Sea Urchin's little sister?" Clyde asked, never lowering the sword he had trained on the red-headed pirate. Samantha's eyes widened further, her lashes coming down to sweep her cheeks in a couple of slow, confused blinks. "What?" Napoleon sighed as he rolled his eyes heavenward, "What he means is, are you Samantha Mulder?" "Oh, why yes I am. And you would be?" Samantha batted her long lashes as she eyed the good looking younger man, ignoring the disgusted snort that came from Red Willie. Napoleon made the introductions, causing tears to form in Sam's hazel eyes when he told her that her brother lived on the island and would be returning soon. Mother Maggie put a soothing arm around the young woman. "Come now, my sweet, let me take you up to Captain Skinner's house. You can rest there." Clyde turned to the big pirate who still stood with his hands in the air. Clyde noticed that the redhead's attention was still completely on the weeping Samantha. "You can spend your time in the stocks until the captain comes back." "I want to join up with you." Willie reluctantly took his eyes away from Samantha to spare one quick glance for Clyde. "Surely Captain Skinner can use another experienced crewman." "Only one he can trust." MistaEx glared at the intruder. "He can trust me." Red Willie assured, his eyes moving back to Samantha. Clyde followed the younger man's gaze to where the dark haired young woman was being led away by the still clucking Mother Maggie. "Ah, so that's the way of it, is it?" "Yes, that's the way of it all right." Willie tore his eyes away from Samantha's back. "Look, I can prove . . .Oh wait, we forgot about Mary Scully." Mother Maggie's head snapped around as she really looked at the big pirate for the first time. "What did you say, young man?" "Your sister, ma'am, Mary Scully. She's still on board the Severed Heart." "I don't think so!" MistaEx raised one big, blunt finger pointing out to sea. A small dinghy was just visible as it slowly and falteringly made it's way toward shore. The small flame-haired person rowing, quite obviously not used to such work, but doing an admirable job none the less. Mother Maggie raised a hand to her eyes, squinting in the bright sun reflected off the sparkling water. "Oh my Dear Heavenly Father, it my sweet Mary. Praise the Lord!" Clyde and MistaEx rowed the other dinghy out to Mary's position, where the native king skillfully shifted himself in Mary's boat and swiftly rowed her to shore. "Oh Mary! My dear, dear Mary." Mother Maggie threw herself into her sister's arms, both of them awash in joyful tears. Willie watched as the Severed Heart weighed anchor. So much for three years in the service of Gentleman John. The man appeared to care little that his first mate was now being held at saber point on the shore. Obviously there would be no rescue attempt. But that was just fine by Willie. He'd had enough of Mad Gentleman John. Red Willie had a woman's heart to win, he didn't have time for pirating right now. When the group reached the main house, Samantha stood in awe before the gleaming white structure. "Fox lives here?" "Yes, my lady." Napoleon placed a gentle kiss on her right hand, earning a dangerous glare from Red Willie. "Your brother is most cherished by Captain Skinner. He's quite happy here." "Fox and Captain Skinner?" Samantha asked while a small frown formed between her brows. "I've never known Fox to be attracted to men in that way. He wasn't forced, was he?" "Not at all, Miss Samantha," Napoleon assured her. "Our captain can be most persuasive when the need arises. While your brother may well feel he was swept off his feet, finding himself in the captain's bed before he even realized what had happened, may rest assured that he is most sincerely loved." Samantha smiled widely. "So my brother has finally found someone to protect and care for him? It's always been quite the opposite I'm afraid." "Yes," Napoleon stated emphatically while the other island inhabitants nodded their head in agreement. "Fox is everything in the world to our handsome captain. You will see for yourself soon enough." As they neared the steps of the main house, Clyde pushed his saber into Red Willie's back, nudging him toward the back of the house. "Just a moment, sir." Mary Scully, placed a gentle hand on Clyde's arm causing the man's breath to catch in his throat. Mary turned to her still beaming sister. "Maggie dear, I hadn't said anything until now but I do believe this young man to be Kate's son." "What?" Mary turned to looked at the tall, red-haired man. "Why, I think you could be right, sister. What is your name, young man?" "Re . . .Red Willie, ma'am." The pirate managed to stammer out after a long, awkward silence. "No, boy, your real name." Willie flushed angrily, "I don't know, and it's not important!" "And your Mother's name?" "If you must know, my fine lady, they called her Black Irish, that's all I know." Willie glared at the woman defensively, not wanting to talk about his mother to these pious women. Black Irish might not be good enough for the likes of them, but Willie had loved her with all his heart. As he glared at the two blue-eyed women, a sense of familiarity came over him. Not even thinking before he did it, Willie reached under the neck of his shirt and pulled out a small gold chain. "She gave this to me before she was taken away. It's all I have left of her." Willie was surprised as both Maggie and Mary burst into fresh tears, gathering him into their arms. Willie struggled for only a moment before allowing himself the unfamiliar luxury of being hugged. Napoleon made a shooing gesture to the group. "Let's take this inside out of the noonday sun. I think there's a story here, and it would best be told over cool glasses of lemonade." The small group of seven made their way into the peaceful, shadowy depths of the house, MistaEx having already slipped back into the jungle that was his home. As they sat on the beautiful white couches, sipping icy glasses of lemonade, Napoleon turned to Maggie and Mary. The two sisters were sitting so close together that their shoulders and legs were touching, as if they were each fearful that the other might vanish if constant vigil were not maintained. They looked so much alike it was almost startling, except for their hair. One as dark as midnight, the other a flaming a bright, shining red. "Mother Maggie, who is Kate?" Napoleon implored, his natural curiosity getting the best of him. Mother Maggie shook her head somberly. "It's a long and sad tale but one that must be told now that our dear William has been returned to us." She smiled at Mary, who nodded her head in encouragement. Maggie took a deep breath, sparing one quick smile for the bewildered Red Willie who sat uncomfortably on the luxurious white couch, being much more accustomed to bulkheads or dirty pubs. "Our father, William Scully, was the commander of the king's navy. My family lived at the palace all of our lives. My sisters and I knew no other home. Nor had my mother, who had also been raised at the palace. She was a lady in waiting and very loyal to the queen. My mother had made a promise to the queen that upon the birth of her daughter, she would name her Margaret after her majesty. It was a promise she kept." "Oh my yes," Mary laughed softly. "That she did." Maggie gave her sister another knowing smile. "I'm afraid she took her promise a little too seriously. When I was born, I was christened Margaret Rose. But then when my mother had two more children, both girls, she named them Margaret as well, Margaret Mary and Margaret Katherine. It was all quite confusing for a time." "That is was," Mary chuckled. "But then we began using nicknames for each other and that served us all quite well. We became Maggie, Mary and Kate." Mother Maggie nodded sadly at her sister. "We were very happy at the palace until that terrible Edward Jerse came into our lives. He was an officer who served under our father. He was a handsome man but . . .strange somehow." "Maggie," Mary chided. "Tell it truthfully. The man was mad!" "Yes, I suppose he was. He heard voices telling him to do terrible things to women. It was all quite alarming. But poor Kate was wild for him. He had half the women at the palace chasing him but we didn't find that out until it was far too late. Kate got with child. Edward left her, of course, but only after he tried to kill her. She barely escaped with her life." Mary wiped a tear from her eye, "We tried to hide Kate's condition for as long as possible, but the royal priests found out about it and threw poor Kate from the palace. My mother was so distraught. She begged the queen for assistance but through she had been the most loyal of subjects, the queen refused her petition." "Some said the queen was intolerant because the king himself was unfaithful to his marriage vows." "Mary, that was idle gossip! It isn't Godly to spread such rumors." "Humph!" Maggie spared a reproachful look for her sister before continuing. "At any rate, my mother took to her bed, never to rise again. She died of a broken heart before our dear father could return from the sea." "We cried for weeks," Mary added. "When our father finally got into port, he found his family in tatters. Our mother was long dead, Kate had vanished into the streets of London, and Mary and I had sought out a convent to hide from such a cruel world." "Yes, now we know we acted too hastily. Perhaps if we had stayed at the palace, we could have found Kate. But it was so difficult for us after Kate left and our mother died. Where we had once been valued subjects, our family was now held in scorn. Mary and I took the cowards' way out." "There's no need for regrets, Maggie dear, we were young and at a loss, we did the best we could. After leaving the convent, Maggie went on to become a missionary but I wanted to help the children that I had seen living on the streets of London. I opened an orphanage. Those who could afford, paid for their upkeep. Those who could not had to work for their room and board. It was the best I could do and certainly better than sleeping in dangerous, filthy alleyways." They all turned as Samantha gasped, "What do you mean? I never worked for my meals and I know my parents left no money. They were executed for crimes against the crown, everything they owned was taken. How were you paid for my room and meals?" Mary smiled sweetly at the younger woman, "Samantha dear, you already know the answer to that question, now don't you?" "Fox." Samantha breathed, tears coming into her eyes. "But how did he get the money? And where did he stay? I was always so angry at him for leaving me. I wanted him to stay at the orphanage with me." "He worked in the woolen house." Everyone turned in shock as Red Willie said the first words he'd uttered since they had left the beach. He looked up at them through pale red lashes. "Fox lived on the street with me. I knew him for years, and," Willie looked down sheepishly at his leather boots. "And I beat him up on a regular basis. I thought he was weak. Always going around trying to help people. He wouldn't even pick a pocket, for heaven's sake. It made the rest of us look bad." "You hit my brother?" Samantha asked through gritted teeth, eyes narrowing dangerously. Willie swallowed hard. "Uh . . . only a few times. There was this shop keeper who protected him and then that old drunk was always around, too. I didn't hit him very much. Honest, Samantha." Samantha started to launch herself off the couch, death in her eye, when she was abruptly pulled back by Mother Maggie. "Not now, dear. You may kill him after Fox returns but not until." "Why?" Samantha seethed, still glaring at Red Willie. "Because we're almost positive that this is the long lost son of my dear sister, Kate. Not only does he resemble Edward Jeris in stature but he has our father's red hair. It was a most unusual shade of red. And if that weren't enough, he has Kate's cross necklace. Our mother had one especially made for each of us. I would know it anywhere. So you can't kill him until Mary and I have an opportunity to get to know him better." "Oh all right." Samantha pouted as she flounced back down into the soft sofa. "I'll wait, but only until Fox get's back, then I'll kill him." William Scully swallowed hard, still staring at the beautiful but furious woman. He was certain she meant every word. And unless Fox Mulder was a very forgiving man, he would no doubt help her carry out her threat. The ante had just been upped. Win Samantha's heart before her brother returned or spend the rest of his life watching his back. * * * "We're approaching port, Captain Skinner. How far out do you want us to anchor?" "I don't want the town's people to know we're here this time, Mr. Byers. Keep us well out of sight. Send out a scouting party to look for a hidden cove or we'll have to stay away from shore and enter by dinghy under cover of darkness." "Yes, sir." The first mate turned on his heel, eager to send the first scouting party ashore. Skinner glanced over at his cabin boy as the young man leaned far over the rail, trying to catch a glimpse of the shoreline. He turned to his captain, wide, hazel eyes sparkling with excitement. "What's our plan, captain?" "We go ashore. We kidnap Blevins and then we head back out to sea. I plan to take the son-of-a-bitch back to the island where I can interrogate him at my leisure." Captain Skinner cracked his knuckles loudly, a demonic smile gracing his handsome face. Mulder looked down at the rope that encircled his waist, tied securely at the small of his back, the other end tied to the captain's thick black belt. "Are you going to untie this rope before going ashore?" "Absolutely." Mulder breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness, I could just picture you leading me around town like a puppy on a leash." "Hum, that picture isn't all that unappealing, Fox. A man could do much worst in his choice of a pretty little pet." "You wouldn't dare!" "Don't worry, pet, you aren't going to be lead around town on the end of my rope. In fact, you aren't going to town. You're staying in my cabin until I return with my prize." "What? But I deserve . . ." "What you deserve, my beauty, is a trip over my knees, which you're very well going to get before bed tonight. I can't believe you talked Frohike into letting you sit up in that damned crow's nest all night. I almost had heart failure when I woke up and you weren't in bed with me." Skinner tugged on the length of rope. "Well, it won't be happening again. From now on, you aren't leaving my side." "I couldn't sleep," Mulder pouted, little knowing how much the captain enjoyed the sight of that protruding lower lip. "From now on, if you can't sleep, you will inform me and I will provide an activity that will sufficiently wear you out until you won't want to do anything else but sleep." "Perhaps I would be more inclined to listen to your advice if you were to demonstrate that technique tonight," Mulder looked up hopefully through thick, dark lashes. "You'd be to listen would you?" Skinner chuckled as he leaned forward to kiss his cabin boy's nose. "I'd be most happy to accommodate you, my beauty." He smiled again at Fox's relieved look. "After your bottom has been properly warmed that is. There's nothing like taking a red, hot bottom between cool, clean sheets. I can't wait." "Me either," Mulder sulked, refusing to look at his captain, irritated when the man just laughed at him again. "You really shouldn't spank me, you know. I am a grown man of twenty-three years and . . ." "Yes, so you've told me, numerous times, and if you were any cuter, I'd never let you out of my cabin or my bed." "Cute! I cute!" "Whatever you say, brat." Mulder could only glare as he received another kiss to his nose from his chuckling captain. The afternoon drug on with very little to alleviate Fox's boredom. Being tied to his captain, literally, meant that he had to stand by while the man performed all the mundane duties associated with his station. Fox was antsy. He wanted to go ashore. He wanted to find Samantha. He wanted to avoid the spanking that awaited him tonight. A little after three, Skinner looked around to see the end of the rope lying on the deck and Fox no where to be found. "Ah-h-h-h-h! I'm going to kill him!" Reggie shook his head as he walked over to the captain. "You might want to do that again, just a bit louder this time, Walter, I'm not sure everyone on shore heard you. We are supposed to be here unbeknownst you know." "He's gone! I turn around not five minutes and the little shit unties the rope and is gone. Where the hell does he think he can hide? The ship isn't that big for Christ's sake. This time, I'm really going to kill him. I swear it!" "Of course you are, Walter. You're going to look right into those big, hazel eyes and slit that boy's throat from ear to ear." Skimmer grimaced at the image, visibly paling before Reggie's amused eyes. "That's what I thought, tough guy. Just stay here, I'll go find your brat for you." Less than twenty minutes later, Reggie walked up holding a hissing, spitting Mulder in one hand. "Does this angry little hellion belong to you, Captain?" Skinner grabbed Mulder away from the chuckling older man. "What the hell do you think you're doing? I told you to stay by my side. I can't believe you had the nerve to untie that rope right under my nose. Don't you have an ounce of self preservation in you, boy?" "You were going to punish me anyway." Mulder shot back, eyes full of defiance. "How much worse could it get?" Skinner abruptly let go of Mulder's arms to latch onto his ear. "Ouch! Let go! You're hurting me!" "Not yet, brat, but you be hurting very soon." Skinner sat down on the bulk head dragging a horrorstruck cabin boy face down over his lap. "No! Not here!" "You asked how much worse it could get, now you know. You're right, you were going to get a spanking, brat. But down in my cabin where it was all nice and private and you would've been cuddled afterward. Now it's going to happen right here on deck where everyone can enjoy the show. That's how much worse it can get, brat." From his upended position, Fox could see several pairs of leather boots gathered around but he didn't dare raise he head enough to see who was going to witness his humiliation. He heard the heavy pounding of leather on wood as word spread, and still more crew members hurried up form below decks. "Please, sir." He begged, feeling the captain's hands at his waist, panicking as he realized he had one last chance before his pants lay humiliatingly around his knees. "Sorry Fox, I want to make sure the next time I give you an order, you won't even think about disobeying." Mulder put both hands over his face and groaned miserably as he felt his pants lowered, the soft ocean breeze caressing his vulnerable, exposed butt. "Couldn't we talk about this?" The captain lay one big hand on the bared bottom that lay so temptingly begging for his attention. "Do you really want to lay here bare-assed in the noon day sun and have a discussion with me, Fox?" "N . . .no." "I thought not." Once his pants were residing at his knees, the captain wasted no time, bringing his hand down with a loud crack on Mulder's naked backside. "When I tell you," Smack! Smack! Smack! "To do something," Smack! Smack! "I expect you to do it!" Smack! Smack! Smack! "And without," Smack! Smack! "Argument," Smack! Smack! "Endless discussion," Smack! Smack! Smack! "Or outright defiance!" Smack! Smack! Smack! "You got that, brat?" "YES SIR! OUCH-H-H-H!" "Somehow I very much doubt that," Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! "Get up!" Mulder scrambled from his unfortunate position, grabbing for his lowered pants, still hoping to salvage a smidgeon of his dignity. It was not to be. "Just leave those where they are, and get your nose against the mast." "WHAT! You can't mean . . ." "You heard me! You'll be spending the rest of the day on deck where I, and everyone else, can keep an eye on you. Now move!" "I want to pull up my pants!" Mulder stomped his foot, coming very close to falling on his nose as the afore mentioned wayward pants wrapped around his ankles. Skinner advanced on his cabin boy, smiling smugly as Mulder had the good sense to take a few steps back. "I think what you is a good dose of my strap, brat. You have ten seconds to climb up on that bulkhead and put your nose on the mast or you'll find yourself over a barrel. Your choice!" Mulder wasted all of two seconds of his time glaring at his stern captain before clamoring up on the low wooden platform and placing the tip of his nose against the main mast. He flushed crimson as he thought about the spectacle he must be making with his bare, red bottom on full, sun-lit display for the enjoyment of captain and crew alike. He could hear the other men moving around him, talking among themselves as they went about his regular work. No one spoke to him directly, but he would occasionally hear laughter that he had no doubt was related to him and his unfortunate predicament. He spent most of the afternoon with a bright red blush gracing both sets of his cheeks. Finally, the shore came into view. A tiny sliver of land far off on the horizon. Fox didn't dare turn around to look. He heard the captain order the ship to weigh anchor as the pirates settled down to wait for darkness. Mulder, for his part, had lost all interest in arguing his right to go ashore with the rest of the crew. * * * Mulder sat straight up in bed, eyes blinking owlishly as the light of a lantern filled the darkness of the captain's cabin. "Fox, you have to come right away! The captain's been captured! They're going to hang him!" Mulder jumped out of bed and was half way into his clothes before he realized that the bearer of the lantern, and the news, was none other than Tom Colton. He threw his shirt to the floor, flinging himself back down on the bed. "I'm not falling for that one again, Colton. Just get out of here." "What? You can't be serious! Captain Skinner is in the hands of any angry mob of townspeople, and you're going to just lay here and let them string him up. Are you crazy?" Mulder licked his lips, eyeing the other man skeptically. "Why are you here? How did you find out the captain had been captured?" "I was left on board just like you were, cause of . . .well because I still can't sit down. One of my mates came back to tell me what had happened. He knows how I feel about the captain." "And just how you feel about the captain, Colton?" Tom ran an exasperated hand over his face. "We don't have time for your jealous little tantrums right now, Fox. We have to go save the captain and the rest of the crew. Now get your ass moving!" Mulder was beginning to become a little concerned. Colton looked for all the world like he was serious. What if the captain really was in trouble and his cabin boy was here, wasting time arguing with Tom Colton. "All right, let's go." The two made their way onto the deserted deck. Mulder grabbed Tom's arm. "I thought the captain left a skeleton crew here to man the ship. Where is everybody?" "They've already gone ashore to rescue the captain. Now stop asking so many damned questions and let's get going. They need the help of every man they can get." As Mulder crawled into the dinghy, the hilt of a knife came out of the night landing sharply on his right temple. The last thought he had before the darkness overcame him was, * * * Fox woke up to an all too familiar pounding in his head. He was lying on his stomach across the saddle of a horse, each step of the hooves sending agonizing streaks of pain through his whole body. He fought back a groan. He could smell the animal-sweat of the horse and the dust of the road they traveled. He pried open one eye, it was still dark but he could make out trees along the side of the road. Not in town then. A man's heavy leather boot was placed firmly in the stirrup beside Mulder's head, and worst of all, he could feel a big hand resting intimately on his upturned bottom. At least he still had the protection of his heavy pants. He tried to keep very quiet but the constant pounding of his head grew unbearable. He raised his bound hands to his forehead, allowing an agonized groan to escape his lips to be followed by a yelp as the hand on his bottom delivered a sharp slap. "Lay still, boy. We'll be there soon enough. Once we arrive, you'll long for the comfort of this ride." What seemed like hours, and several stinging slaps to his backside later, the horse was finally pulled to a halt. The man in the saddle dismounted, groaning as he stretched stiff muscles which were protesting such a long, hard ride. Mulder longed to be taken down from the horse. His stomach hurt, his back hurt and worst of all his head ached so badly his vision was blurred. "That him, Drake?" "Yeah, Blevins was right, he's a pretty thing. Wish I was the one who got to keep him for a spell." "I'm being paid well to keep him here until Skinner leaves town, and Mr. Blevins can put his property back in the counting house where it belongs. He don't want nobody touching the boy until then. So what he looks like don't mean a whole lot to me, I'm more interested in his strong back. I plan to work him hard while I got him." The man pulled Mulder down from the saddle, supporting his weight as the cabin boy's knees buckled under him. Mulder struggled as Drake's hands wandered intimately over his body. "You'd just best be sure he's still breathin' when Blevins shows up to claim him." "I'll be the one to worry about that. You just take him inside, the missus will have him whipped into shape in no time. Mean woman, that one." Mulder felt himself being dragged inside what looked to be an country way station of some sort. As he was manhandled inside and shoved down into a hard, wooden chair, Mulder took the opportunity to get a good look at his captors. The man called Drake, who had brought him here, was big and rough looking but the man who obviously owned this establishment was bigger and looked even meaner. Then the woman appeared. She was short and stout, with fraying gray hair and an expression that could only be described as malicious. "So this is the brat I've got to be bothering myself with, is it?" She grabbed Mulder's chin with hard, calloused hands. "Let me tell you, pretty boy, I won't be takin' no grief from the likes of you. You'll work here and you'll work hard or you'll be feeling my switch across your pretty backside, you will." She let go of his chin with a teeth-rattling shake. "Now, you'd best be gettin' those fine clothes off. You'll not be puttin' on airs in front of my good customers." Mulder looked down at his heavy breeches, finely woven linen shirt and sturdy leather boots. Truthfully, other than the warmth it could provide, the cabin boy had never given much thought to the clothing he wore. He'd been taken abroad the Chauve Terreur as naked as the day he was born, the few rags he'd possessed left behind in the counting house. Fox had trusted the captain to dress him in whatever manner he wished without thought or comment. But now, he realized he had inadvertently allowed himself to become accustomed to the comfortable, well-made clothing the captain had provided in such abundance. He would miss them. He sighed as he began to unbutton the shirt. All too soon he stood naked and shivering before the three strangers. Mrs. Mitchell's eyes glowed with greed, "There'd be many a fine gentleman'd pay us a pretty penny to take this one above stairs for an hour or two." "And I wouldn't mind a bit being the first in line," Drake leered at the embarrassed young man. "Have you lost your mind, Millie?" Austin Mitchell threw a threadbare pair of pants and a ragged shirt at Mulder. "Blevins would kill us when he found out." "Humph!" Mrs. Mitchell glared at Mulder as if the full blame lie with him, "All I'm sayin' is that it ain't right wasting such a prime piece of property. Everybody knows indentured servants expect to be used for their better's profit and pleasure." "Not this time, Millie. I ain't backin' down to you. The boy works but not on his back above stairs. That's final!" "Still ain't right," Millie Mitchell huffed indignantly. "Austin, get the shackles on him and then put him to work scrubbin' those pots in the kitchen. Everybody pulls their own weight here or I'll know the reason why!" As he turned to leave, Drake patted Mulder's cheek, "I don't envy you, sweetheart, that woman is after your lovely ass and I don't mean in a pleasurable way either." The man glanced down to where Austin was busy attaching heavy iron shackles to Mulder's ankles. He laughed evilly before turning to walk out of the door, leaving Mulder alone with his two new captors. * * * "What do you mean by ?" Langly swallowed hard at the deadly look in his captain's eyes. "We went to get Fox for you, sir, to bring him ashore just like you said . . ." "Why the hell did you want Fox to come ashore for anyway," Reggie asked, his eyes narrowed on his former cabin boy. "If you must know, Captain Purdue, I missed him. I thought Fox would enjoy a brief visit to the town." "Of all the addle-brained, dull-witted . . ." Skinner ignored Reggie's tirade as he turned back to Langly. "Go on, sailor. Quickly now." Langly eyed the two ominous pirate captains, taking a deep, calming breath as he dredged up enough nerve to continue his story. "So when we got back to the ship the crew had been locked in the hole. A dinghy was missing, and so were Fox and Tom Colton. "I should have killed Colton while I had him over that barrel. If he's hurts one hair on Fox's head, I'll . . ." "Now isn't the time for thoughts of revenge, Walter. There'll be plenty of time for that later." Reggie signaled for the crew to move closer. "We have to go back ashore, men. Tom Colton, it would seem, has kidnaped Fox. We have to find them and quickly." "Aye, aye, sir!" The men shouted as they headed for the dinghies that would take them back to shore. * * * Mulder swiped at his sweat covered brow as he finished up scrubbing the last of the iron pots. Mrs. Mitchell wasn't much of a cook, usually burning the food beyond recognition, and creating pots so mucked it took hours to get them clean again. "You still piddling around with those pots, pretty boy?" "No, ma'am. All finished." "Bout time too. You won't be gettin' no dinner. Ain't none of my fine food left tonight. Scrub this floor, then you can find you bed like the lazy pup you are. And this floor best be shining by morning or it'll be another trip to the woodshed for you." "Yes, ma'am." Mulder sighed as he went to the corner to find the big scrub brush that we would be using for the next few hours. His stomach rumbled loudly. This was the third day without food. He was sure he would pay dearly, should his body betray him by fainting from hunger. Mulder fell wearily to his knees, dipping the brush into the bucket of soapy water. He never got this floor clean enough to please the mistress of the inn. It had too many layers of grime on it before he had come to be the Mitchell's personal slave. But as hard as his life was here at the inn, he shivered at the thought of Blevins coming to take him back to that dismal counting house. He wasn't sure he could survive that again. Not now that he had known freedom and true happiness with the captain. He sighed heavily as he began to rub the pig bristle brush over the stone floor. He missed the captain. Of course, he had always known that his life abroad the Chauve Terreur would never last. He was never meant to have so much safety, and protection and . . .food. Don't forget the food. He missed the food only slightly less than his beloved captain. Fox decided he'd been the worst kind of fool to become so accustomed to that life. This was as much as he should expect. Back-breaking work from dawn to dusk and beyond, an empty belly, and then a thin, tattered blanket on a cold, stone floor for a couple of hours of restless sleep. This was a life he knew and understood. This was a life he didn't have to worry about anyone taking away from him. Yes, he decided, it was much better this way. Mulder awakened slowly to the sound of voices. "Who do you suppose he is?" "Just some serving boy, my lady. No one with whom you need concern yourself." "That's right, my lady." Mulder recognized the voice of Mrs. Marshall, hoarse with interrupted sleep. "He's just my indentured servant, pay him no mind. I own this fine inn, how may I be of service to you good folks." A man with a thick English accent spoke, "Sir Thomas Higgins of Westchester and Lady Diana Fowley, madame. We've been traveling all this long night, and wish a good meal and a warm bed before we continue our journey." "Then you've come to the right place." Mulder felt the toe of the mistress's boot connect painfully with his right hip. "Up boy, your betters need some food and drink." Mulder stumbled from his cold bed. It was still dark outside, the inn now being lit by only a lantern carried by a man dressed in a black suit. A lady stood beside him, studying Fox carefully. "Did she say your name is Fox?" "Yes, ma'am." Mulder tried to work his way around the woman, feeling ashamed of his dirty, ragged clothing. He'd felt this same way when the carriages with the grand ladies had passed him on the streets of London. He wasn't fit to be around such beautiful people. The lady turned to her companion. "Thomas, do you think . . ." "No, Lady Diana, I do not. I'm sure is a common enough name here in the colonies. Please let us leave the boy to his work and sit down to await our meal." "He really is quite handsome and could be . . ." "I assure you, he is not the same boy. I beg you, Lady Diana, do not unduly upset your uncle with such nonsense. The Duke of Fowley does not need to be making unnecessary trips to the colonies to look upon a mere serving boy, no matter how pretty of face and form." Fox came back with two bowls of rabbit stew and some thick slices of buttered bread. He set the food down in front of the new arrivals, keeping his eyes averted from the lady's disturbing and intense scrutiny. He looked over at the scowling man. That expression was even more distressing than the lady's obvious curiosity. "Will there be anything else, sir." "Most certainly not. Be gone with you, boy, and you might consider a good bath sometime in the near future." Higgins waved a dismissive hand in Fox's direction. "Yes, sir." Mulder blushed bright red as he hurried away. Just as he turned to leave, Lady Diana overturned the mug of wine setting in front of her, soaking her dress. "Oh my lady, let me help you." Fox frantically wiped at the table with the tail of his shirt. The woman glared up at him. "Are you always this clumsy, boy?" "Bu . . .but, ma'am . . .I didn't . . ." "Don't just stand there blathering, boy. Go get a cloth to clean up this mess!" Diana batted ineffectively at the crimson stain rapidly spreading across her full, silk skirts. Fox hurried toward the kitchen for a proper cloth, only to be pulled up short by a snarling Mrs. Mitchell. "What did you do now, you ill-manner little reprobate?" "It wasn't me, ma'am. The lady accidently spilled her wine." "Is that so?" Mrs. Mitchell sneered, "Well, we'll just see about that now won't we. Austin, take this boy out to the woodshed and put your strap to his backside. And I want to hear his screams all the way in here. It's important that these fine folk know what happens to clumsy servants at this inn." Austin Mitchell grabbed Fox's arm, pulling him out the door and to the nearby woodshed. The light of the lantern cast a sickly yellow glow across the dismal interior of the small but fearsome structure. "You know what to do, boy, pants down and straddle the end of the sawhorse, legs wide. Be quick about it! The missus wants to hear some shouting coming from in here." Mulder lowered his pants with shaking hands, leaning over the log that lay on the sawhorses, ready to be cut into firewood. The rough bark scratched his soft, naked belly. His bare bottom turned up high and waiting for the kiss of the strap. "Stay in position, boy. This is going to be a well and truly done hiding." Mulder held his breath as he heard the familiar whistle of the strap through the air and then a streak of fire burned itself across his naked skin. He bit down hard on his lip, tasting blood, not wanting the quality lady inside to hear his cries of pain. She already knew what was happening to him, at least he wanted her to think he could take it bravely. The strap came down again, and then again, with little time between for Fox to catch his breath as his bottom ignited and burst into flames. He held on tightly to sides of the log, not daring to move his tortured butt out of harms way. His bottom wiggled frantically, his feet danced on the floor, but still he kept his lips sealed tightly shut. "You'd best," Smack! "start yelling," Smack! Smack! "your head off, boy." Smack! Smack! "The missus," Smack! "won't be happy," Smack! Smack! Smack! "until she hears," Smack! "you crying," Smack! Smack! "like a baby!" Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! The strap now started cracking on previously punished skin and Fox could feel his bottom blistering under the relentless leathering. He bounced his bottom harder, his feet kicking out behind him. Nothing helped to alleviate the terrible fire burning so fiercely on his hindquarters. "Oh-h-h-h-h, please stop! No more! No more!" Fox sobbed brokenly. "Ah, so now we can really begin. Remember, Fox, the missus wants to hear your appreciation of this fine strapping I'm giving you. Don't disappoint her." The strap became a relentless serpent, biting each and every inch of naked, unprotected skin. Fox became frantic and then hysterical as the strap came down again and again, biting, stinging, flaying the flesh from his very bones. He sobbed, he pleaded, he promised anything just to make the strap stop its evil work. Nothing saved his bottom from even one of its allocated strokes. "What was that!" Lady Diana asked as Fox's first scream filled the air. "Nothing for you to worry about, my lady," Mrs. Mitchell assured. "Just a naughty serving boy getting his tail well-strapped for spilling your wine, that's all. I'll venture he'll be a site more careful in the future." "I've no doubt he will." Lady Diana smirked as she listened to Fox screamed piteously. "Tell me, good woman," Diana patted her lips with a lace-trimmed handkerchief. "Is the boy available for pleasure?" "I'm sorry, my lady, but he is not." Millie ground out with obvious resentment. "My husband negotiated his contract, and not at all well if you ask me." "A pity," Diana pouted prettily. "I am Lady Diana Fowley, niece of the Duke of Fowley and third cousin to the king himself. Are you quite sure there's nothing you can do?" "No, my lady, my hands are tied." Millie licked her lips nervously. Nobility had to be handled so very carefully, used to getting exactly what they wanted without dispute. "Perhaps it would please my lady to have the boy decorate a corner while you finish your meal. He's a find looking lad, very easy on the eye. And with that freshly striped bottom, should be most entertaining." "Well, I suppose if that is the best you have to offer." Shortly, a naked, still sobbing Fox was dragged into the main room and shoved into a corner, his bare, scarlet-striped bottom on full display for all to see. "If the boy were to be made available to us for the evening," Higgins laid a fat purse on the table. "Who would be the wiser?" Mrs. Mitchell considered it, her eyes glued to the pouch of gold the man had pulled from his pocket. She could certainly use the money but truth be told, that Mr. Blevins scared her. She didn't have the nerve to cross the man. Not yet anyway. "I'm deeply sorry, sir. Perhaps another time." The older woman turned regretfully back to her bed lest she be tempted to taunt the devil and lose more than her immortal soul. The Lady Diana Fowley and her faithful friend, Sir Thomas Higgins, rose from the table, their eyes never leaving the tragically beautiful creature inhabiting the corner. Higgins moved to stand behind the boy for a long while, just looking at his strong young body and throbbing, red bottom, not having to look again to remember those full, luscious lips and that enchanting little mole on the boy's right cheek. This mere serving boy was truly magnificent. Sir Higgins didn't understand in the slightest why a man of his stature should be denied such a desirable morsel. He ran a hand over the hot, scorched butt, earning a flinch and a hiss of pain form the well-whipped servant. Such a waste to leave such a one as this in a corner all night when he would be so much more useful warming the bed of the upper class. "You'd best listen to my missus." Austin Mitchell smiled as Sir Thomas nearly jumped out of his skin, thinking he was all alone with the defenseless serving boy. "She isn't one to be trifled with. You can ask the boy about that. I'm sure he'd rather face me and my razor strop any day as have to tangle with my missus. Ain't that right, boy?" "Yes, sir." Fox sniffed, the picture of desolate misery. Higgins sighed as he once more ran his hand over the firm, taut muscles of Fox's burning backside. "Oh all right, but I want you to know I think this is a waste of a fine looking lad. A terrible waste." "I couldn't agree more, sir, but it's the way it must be for now. Me and my missus, we have little choice in this matter. Were it up to us, we'd have your gold, and you would be upstairs buried deep in that pretty, red bottom as we speak." "Humph!" The nobleman huffed as he turned to follow a disappointed Lady Diana up to their room. Neither of them accustomed to themselves or their gold being denied. Sir Thomas and the Lady Diana left the next day without another word to the innkeepers or their serving boy. Mulder spent the next morning cleaning the stables, his head reeling from hunger and fatigue. He had not been allowed to return to his bed the night before, spending what few hours that had remained of the evening standing in the corner. Now he literally swayed with fatigue. "Ps-s-s-st! Hey, that you Fox?" "What is it, Duane?" Mulder asked, not bothering to look up from his task of shoveling muck from a stall. "Are you alone. Duane Barry doesn't want to see no one else today." Mulder sighed. He felt sorry for Duane. The man had been a king's courier until he was kidnaped by pirates and abused both physically and sexually while on board their ship. During a battle with a French merchant ship, Duane had been injured when a cannon ball disintegrated beside him, deadly shrapnel lodging in the front of his head. He shouldn't have lived to tell the story. Though Duane had recovered physically, he had never been the same. Duane Barry was distrustful of every living soul and prone to fits of extreme violence at the slightest provocation. The only good thing about the situation, as far as Mulder could see, was that both Millie and Austin Mitchell appeared to be somewhat afraid of the unstable Duane Barry. Why they allowed him to stay, Mulder could not even hazard a guess and Duane either didn't know or refused to tell him. "I'm the only one here, Duane. How are you feeling today?" "Duane Barry feels fine, Fox. Just fine. You don't look so good though." "I'm just a little tired and hungry, Duane. Mrs. Mitchell hasn't seen fit to feed me for a while. I'll be fine." "Have they beat you again, Fox? Duane Barry doesn't like it when they beat you." "I know you don't Duane but last time you tried to protect me, Mr. Mitchell used his strap on you to. I don't want you to do that again, Duane. Do you hear me? You can't defend me anymore." "Mr. Mitchell says the pirates will come get Duane Barry again. I can't ever go back there, Fox! I'll kill that mean Mr. Mitchell if he lets the pirates try to take me again. I'll . . ." "Duane! Duane, listen to me. You've got to calm down, Duane. You can't kill him. They'll hang you for that, Duane. Do you hear me? You can't kill Mr. Mitchell, Duane." Barry smiled. He liked Fox. The younger man always listened to him and believed him, too. Not like the everybody else who thought Duane Barry was crazy. Duane liked Fox a lot. "Don't worry, Fox. Duane Barry will be all right. You'll see. Duane Barry won't be taken by the pirates again. I'll give them someone else this time. That's all Duane Barry has to do. Give them someone else." "You could give me to them, Duane. I want to get back to Captain Skinner before Mr. Blevins comes for me." Duane smiled again, sadly this time. "No, Fox. I couldn't do that to you. Duane Barry couldn't give you to the pirates." "But . . ." "What the hell is going on in here?" Both men turned wild eyed to where Austin Mitchell stood blocking the light from the open stable door. Mulder swallowed hard as Austin Mitchell stalked toward them. He could see Duane out of the corner of his eye, slinking back like a cornered animal. "Sorry, Mr. Mitchell," Mulder held up one hand in a placating manner. "Duane was just asking if he could help me with the stalls, that's all. I'll get right back to work and have this all done before you know it." "Too late, boy." Mitchell turned from the indentured servant to the irritating lunatic who refused to leave his property. "I've warned you before, Duane." Mitchell pulled a heavy coil of rope down from the stall as he continued to descend on the terrified Barry. Duane had pulled himself up into a ball in a far corner of the barn, whimpering pitifully as he watched the big man move closer. "Mr. Mitchell," Fox tried again. "Please, leave Duane alone. He didn't mean any harm." Austin Mitchell turned without warning, one big ham-like fist shooting out to catch the cabin boy right under his chin. Mulder went down without ever knowing what had happened. The big innkeeper turned back to the wide-eyed Barry. "You're gonna' pay this time, Duane. And I'm gonna' give your pretty pup there the same treatment while you watch. Then I'm going to tell the pirates to come get you tonight while you sleep." Duane panicked, lunging like a madman from his corner, only to be met by the same devastating right hook that had so easily felled Mulder. While Duane say dazed on the floor, Mitchell stripped him of his clothing, tied the rope around his ankles, threw the loose end up over a rafter and pulled Duane Barry up to dangle upside down in the dim light of the old barn. "Let Duane Barry down!" "Shut up, boy. I'll let you down when I'm finished with you and not a minute sooner." Mitchell then turned his attention to Mulder, quickly stripping the beautiful younger man of his shirt and breeches. Soon the cabin boy joined Duane, hanging upside down from the barn loft. * * * "Why are we stopping again! I need to find Fox, we don't have time to stop here!" "Walter," Reggie ran an exasperated hand over his face. "We've been riding all night. We need to rest the horses and get a good meal in us before we continue on to the next town." "But that shopkeeper said he saw an unconscious man fitting Fox's description being taken in this direction. That was over a week ago. We have to catch up to him. We don't have time to stop!" "Walter Skinner, I know you're upset and anxious to find your boy but I say we're stopping here for some food, and I have no intention of changing my mind. So unless you want to have the rest of this discussion with the business end of my belt, I suggest you . . ." "And why did you send Lucius back to the ship? He could have been a big help to us." "We've already gone over that, Walter. He's also a great help to Mr. Byers in keeping the men in line, especially that scalawag, Robert Modell. Whom, I might remind you, is your personal guest on this voyage. When Lucius is on board, the man is as quiet as a church mouse but the minute the vamp . . .I mean, the minute Lucius leaves the ship Modell's out of his cabin and causing trouble again." "Skinner crossed his arms over his massive chest, "You don't care if we find Fox or not. You never have! Well, I'm going on without you!" Reggie grabbed the bridle of Skinner's horse before the captain could make good on his get away. "You listen to me, boy, I'm going in here to arrange for a meal and some other things that I feel certain can't wait until later. If you aren't here when I get back, you will be one very sorry young man when I catch up with you next." Skinner glared down at his former captain. Purdue didn't bat a lash, finally forcing Walter to look away. "Oh all right, but hurry up about it. I won't wait all day!" "Oh, I think you will." Reggie walked into the country way station, looking around cautiously. He winched as he spotted the mistress of the inn, a plump, greasy woman in a stained apron. "Madame, I have need of some provisions for my friend and myself." "If the color of your gold be right, I can supply most anything you need." Reggie glanced out the dirty window to the outbuildings that lay in back of the small inn. He smiled to himself. "In that case, good madame, I would like bread, meats and cheese, two skins of your best ale, and the use of your woodshed for the next half hour. Can that be arranged?" Mrs. Mitchell smiled evilly, trying to look out into the yard. "Got yourself a boy what needs correcting, do you?" "You could say that. How much for the use of the shed?" "Well now, that's a find woodshed, it is. Fully equipped and kept in top condition by almost daily use for our serving boy. He's a handful he is. I don't think I could let you have it for less than, oh say . . ." Reggie lay two gold coins on the table in front of the greedy woman. "Will that suffice, madame." "Yes sir," Millie snatched up the gold coins in one fat, moist hand. "That should do quite well. I'll have your bread, cheese and ale ready by the time you're finished with your other . . .duties." Reggie cringed in disgust as she chuckled evilly, displaying a mouthful of blackened teeth. Walter still sat on his horse, arms crossed, eyes glaring at the door behind which Reggie had disappeared. His expression darkened even further as the older man came out, hands empty of the promised provisions. "I thought you were going to get yourself some food so we could be on our way?" "The innkeeper is putting it together for me right now. In the mean time I've purchased a little something for you." "I told you I don't want anything. I just want to find Fox and we aren't going to do it by sitting here." "I've had enough of your attitude, Walter! It's dangerously hindering your ability to think straight and concentrate your energy on finding Fox." Just then the quiet countryside was torn by a sharp cry coming from the direction of the barn. It was quickly followed by another and then another. "Should we go see what's going on in there?" Skinner asked, his eyes glued to the barn door. "No, the innkeeper told me they have a serving boy who's been giving them some difficulty. Probably no more than a well deserved hot bottom for a troublesome boy. You need to come with me now, Walter." "I don't have time to . . ." "Walter," Reggie said in that voice that booked no refusal. "You follow me at once." * * * Mitchell watched as the two naked men swung slowly by their bound feet. Two pairs of taught, round bare buttocks swaying at eye level, waiting without hope of reprieve for the sound blistering that had been promised them. He walked up to Mulder, running a hand slowly over the semi-conscious man's long, lean form. "He's a real beauty, isn't he, Duane?" "Leave him alone! He's Duane Barry's friend." "Is he now? Just how did you get with the pretty boy, Duane? You haven't been taking advantage of him, have you? Maybe a little slap and tickle while the two of your were out here all alone in the barn?" "No! I wouldn't do that to him. Please, let Duane Barry's friend down!" Mitchell picked up a small slat of wood that had been laying discarded in a corner of the barn. It was about two feet long and eight inches wide, and an inch thick. Perfect for his intended use. "I'll let him down when you've both learned a good lesson, Duane. You first." Mitchell brought the wood well behind his back, aiming for the exposed buttocks of the hanging man. He swung with all his might, laughing as the wood made contact with tender, unprotected skin. Barry screamed as his body swung forward from the force of the blow. Mitchell hesitated as he watched the red hot stripe appear on Duane's previously white backside. He brought the wood back for the next stroke, waiting until the momentum of Duane's body brought him back into perfect position. "Hold on, Duane. This one is really gonna' sting." Duane screamed again. Mulder moaned softly. * * * "You . . .you did what?" "I gave the mistress two gold coins for the use of her woodshed. Now get your pants down and over the sawhorse. We don't have all day." "But . . ." "I've put up with your ill temper for days, Walter. I know you're upset. I know you want to find Fox but you aren't going to do that if you can't concentrate on what you're doing. We can't just run from town to town on nothing more than gossip and flimsy here say. You have to clear your head so you can use that immense logic of yours to solve this problem. This is the best way I know to get the job done." "Please Reggie. They'll hear me inside." "So what? It's not like we'll ever have a reason to come back here, and they'll never know that they had the infamous pirate, Walter Skinner gracing their sawhorse while his bottom got a good and much deserved scouring. Now get in place before I really lose my temper." Captain Skinner lowered his leather breeches, bending over the rough wood of the sawhorse. He shuddered as another scream of pain could be heard from the barn. * * * Duane Barry swung slowly back and forth from the barn rafters, his bottom and thighs a mass of throbbing blisters. There wasn't an inch of exposed flesh that had not been bruised by the hard cracks of the makeshift paddle. Duane sobbed hard, making nondescript sounds, that no one, including himself could understand. Mulder moaned again, his head feeling like it was about to come loose from his body. Not only did his jaw feel like it was broken in a dozen pieces, but all the blood had run to his head and it was pounding like a blacksmith's hammer. "Six more, Duane. Right where you'll feel them the most!" Mitchell wasn't even trying to hide the smile on his face. "Better wake up and pay attention, Fox, that pretty bottom of your's is next in line." "He . . .he's had enough, Mr. Mitchell." Mulder tried to raise his head to stop some of the painful throbbing in his temples. "Six more and he won't be able to walk." "Who cares. He's never any help around here anyway. And I suggest you spend your time worrying about your own comely ass, Fox." The innkeeper placed the paddle on Duane Barry's thoroughly punished cheeks, carefully sizing up his intended target for what lay in store. The next six would land on that fleshy, soft under curve right above Barry's thighs. Right where he would want to sit, were sitting even a remote possibility in his future. Mitchell brought the piece of wood back behind him and let fly with his hardest stroke yet. Duane screamed in agony. * * * Reggie looked around the woodshed with approval. Two well oiled straps hung conveniently from a hook by the door. A large crock stood in one corner, the tops of several well-made birch rods peeking out of their brine-filled hiding place. "I'll let you decide, Walter. What shall it be? Fifty stokes of a good razor strop or a mere twelve with the birch. It's a long ride to the next town, I'd choose carefully if I were you." Skinner whimpered in dread as his bare bottom quivered in anticipation. Fifty with the strop would leave him sore for days but the birch was a terrible instrument. It's tiny branches reaching out to insidiously torture every part of a bared bottom at once. "The . . ." Skinner took a deep, shaky breath. "The birch." "Good choice, Walter. Now hold on, I intend for these to sting. And you'll have to spread your legs a lot wider than that if you expect the birch to do its best work today." * * * Mulder glanced over to where Duane still hung, his flesh bruised purple from hip to knees. Barry had passed out before the final blow had landed on his bruised and blistered backside. He'd never seen a punishment like the one Duane Barry had just taken. He hoped he never did again. Even Captain Skinner and his cat-o- nine-tails didn't do that much damage to the human body. The cabin boy shuddered. "You don't need to fret so, Fox. Only six for you. The missus has a full day's work planned for your sweet ass, and she'd be a might miffed if I laid you up with this board." Mitchell positioned himself behind the gently swaying cabin boy, admiring once again the graceful flow of back and buttock. "You sure are a looker, Fox. Too bad Blevins found you first. Now hold on, this is gonna' hurt something fierce. Six good, hot stingers and all on the same spot." Mulder felt the board leave his bottom, then a swish of air as it came forward from behind the innkeepers back. He screwed his eyes shut even harder just as the first blast bit into his tender flesh. He screamed as his whole body shot forward, swinging high from the rope that held him suspended from the barn roof. * * * Skinner's head came up abruptly, "What was that? It almost sounded like . . ." He was interrupted as the devilish birch landed for the first time on his wide-spread, tightly stretched backside. The captain grunted as the pain consumed his whole being, the cries coming from the barn forgotten for the moment. He held on tightly to his cock and balls as instructed, keeping them well out of harms way. He wished he could do the same for his naked, protruding bottom. "I expect a count, Walter." "One, sir." The birch descended for the second time, tiny buds biting into the exposed mounds and the deep crevice that separated them, the tender skin rippling under the kiss of the effective little tool. "Tw . . .two, sir!" The birch blazed again, tiny drops of liquid spraying from the soaked switches, coating Skinner's injured butt with a line mist of stinging brine. "Three! Ouch-h-h-h-h!" From somewhere in the back of his mind, the screams from the barn that now were nothing more than an accompaniment to his own cries of distress, sparked a tinge of recognition. However, the scorching bite of the birch didn't allow his small suspicion to surface fully in his mind. * * * Finally Mitchell cut Duane Barry down. The man fell to the cold, barn floor, still out to the world. Mitchell took the opportunity to land a good, strong kick to the unconscious man's ribs. Mulder's eyes narrowed in disgust but he didn't dare comment. Once his own rope had been cut and he was lowered only slightly more gently to the floor, he crawled over to take care of Duane. "Leave him! You have work to do." "He's hurt! I have to help him." A boot landed squarely on Mulder's sore bottom, pushing him face first onto the floor. "I said and I meant . Leave him be! Finish cleaning the barn! And don't bother with your clothes yet. I think spending a few hours with that red, sore butt on display will do you some good. Not to mention being entertaining for me and my Millie. As soon as the noon day customers leave, you come up to the kitchen and start scrubbing Millie's pots." "Yes, sir." Duane still hadn't moved. Mulder looked toward the closed door of the barn as he heard an agonized howl come from the direction of the woodshed. He shook his head, feeling sorry for whoever was on the receiving end up there. * * * "Tw . . .Oh! Ouch! Twelve!" Reggie Purdue looked down at the welted butt of the man he loved like his own son. "I don't like having to do that to you, Walter. If it weren't so important that we find Fox, I'd have let you just go on mucking around as you were. You'll thank me for this one day." "Of course I will." Skinner swiped at his tear stained eyes, then moved both hands to rub gingerly on his wounded flanks. "You just telling yourself that, Reggie." "Do you need a few more, Walter? This birch still has some life left in it." "No! I mean, no sir, I'm sorry, Captain Purdue. I'm fine now, really. I don't know what gets into me when Fox is in danger. I just don't seem to be able to think straight." "It's called , Walter and it was about damned time you found some for yourself. Unfortunately it had to be with the most hard-headed, disobedient, irritating brat I've ever had the misfortune to meet. Now get up and get dressed. Our food should be ready and we can be on our way." Walter Skinner winced as his sore bottom made contact with the hard saddle. It was going to be a very long ride into the next town. He watched as Reggie paid the smirking mistress of the inn. The nasty woman sneaking a peek at him every few seconds. He felt his face flush as he glanced over to see a big, mean looking man come out of the barn, throwing a short piece of wood aside as he firmly shut the barn door behind him. He felt sorry for the serving boy on the other side of that door. * * * Walter Skinner and Reggie Purdue had been gone less than five minutes when the front door of the inn burst open to admit none other than Mr. Blevins himself. "Mr. Blevins, sir, have to come for the boy?" Austin Mitchell asked nervously wondering how Blevins would feel about what he'd just done to his servant. "Master Mitchell, my good man, I've merely come to check on Fox. That pirate riffraff, Captain Walter Skinner, is still skulking about making inquiries into the whereabouts of my duly bought and paid for servant. The nerve of the man is beyond belief!" "Quite." Mitchell ran a hand through his thinning hair. "Uh, I was just going out to finish some chores in the barn. Fox has been working there. Why don't you sit down and have a nice mug of our fine ale and I'll send the boy up to you." "Yes, very good. I could use a little gentlemanly libation right about now. It's a long, dusty ride from town." When a fully dressed Mulder walked into the room, the first thing he saw was Scott Blevins, sprawled at a table, two full mugs of ale in front of him. "Fox! Come see me, my boy." Blevins patted his knee invitingly. Mulder shook his head, eyes wide as he took a step back only to run into the stone wall that was Austin Mitchell's hard body. Two other men who sat eating a late noon meal, looked up with interest as the innkeeper pushed a reluctant Mulder forward to take a seat upon the merchant's eager lap. Blevins wasted little time in pulling the clothing free of his property's warm body. He smiled and winked at the innkeeper as he revealed the red, hot bottom that had been hidden under the ragged pants. "I see you're taking very good care of my boy, Master Mitchell." The innkeeper breathed a sigh of relief. "I do what needs to be done, Mr. Blevins." "So I see," Blevins chuckled as he clasped a piece of the scorched bottom flesh between two fingers, pinching cruelly. Mulder moaned in anguish as the merchant's other fat hand came up to join the first in kneading both well-punished cheeks mercilessly. "Sore, Fox?" "Ye . . .yes, sir!" Blevins grinned as he continued to prod and pull at the smarting globes. "Once I have you back at the counting house where you belong, you'll be hot and red like this every day. You won't even remember what it was like to sit down without your pretty bottom protesting mightily." Blevins landed a sharp smack to the right cheek, "And now that Mrs. Blevins has thrown me out of the house, there's no reason why you can't extend your duties to warming my cold bed at night, now it there?" "Threw you out, did she?" Millie asked, knowing it was unwise but too nosey to keep still. "Yes, the woman's gone daft!" Blevins snapped as he twisted sore flesh between his fingers. "Says she's waiting for the vampire to come for her again. The mind you! Personally I could care less as long as she leaves my counting house and my indentured servant alone. I never did like that big mausoleum of a house anyway." Millie nodded her head sagely, not believing a word of it. Blevins seemed to fall into a morose funk after that, gulping down another four mugs of ale and fondling his naked and exceedingly reluctant servant. Finally he extracted his fingers from Mulder's hot, tight body and staggered to his feet, pulling Mulder up with him. "I have to be going before that damned pirate shows up again. I've just narrowly avoided meeting up with him at least a dozen times, and I don't want my luck to run out now. He shook Mulder by the scruff of his neck. "You mark my words, boy, he'll not be taking you again. You belong to me and it's going to stay that way." He gave Mulder a stout push backwards as he stumbled out the door and unsteadily mounted his horse. * * * Another week had passed. Fox had managed to sneak out to the barn, bringing his own meager ration of food to Duane. He had also managed to steal a jar of horse ligament from the kitchen while Mrs. Mitchell wasn't looking. He shuddered to think what would happen to him if she found it missing. It had taken several days but finally Duane had started to improve. He was now up and moving around, albeit very slowly. Physically, he should be completely healed in another week. The cabin boy, however, sincerely doubted the man would ever heal emotionally from this latest ordeal. Duane Barry now flatly refused to come out of his hiding place in the barn, for any reason. Mulder's legs trembled as his feet fought for purchase on the slimy, black mold that covered the stone steps leading up from the cellar, the heavy rum barrel digging into his sore back. There was no hand rail to pull himself forward but even if there had been, he needed both arms to balance his unwieldy burden. He finally staggered to the top of the stairs only to be met with a burst of pain as Mrs. Mitchell's wicked switch landed across his backside. He cried out in pain, this lash having crossed another he had received yesterday for not getting the kitchen floor clean enough to satisfy his mistress. "What took you so long, boy? I'll not have a lazy slacker here to feed. You'll earn your keep or else." The switch landed again with a loud crack across the seat of his pants. "Now get yourself over there and see if those fine gentleman would like another mug o' ale and be quick about it." Mulder set down the heavy rum barrel, glancing carefully around the room. A table in the corner was occupied by two men, talking in whispers, their hooded capes pulled low across their faces. They could be passing clergy but somehow they looked far too dangerous and unpredictable for that. Another man sat alone at a table, engrossed in his plate of buttered beans and bread. The four men that he had been ordered to attend, sat together, talking loudly and laughing drunkenly. They worried Mulder most of all. They reminded the cabin boy of Blevins and his friends when they were well into their cups. "That's August Bremer, the highwayman." Austin Mitchell hissed into Mulder's ear, startling the serving boy, who hadn't realized the innkeeper stood beside him. "The surly one next to him is his right hand, Jacob Haley. Pretty thing like you had best watch himself around those kind of men." Mulder took a deep breath as he walked forward toward the table, "Would you like another ale, gentlemen?" A big man with cold, hard eyes looked up, one brow raised high on his forehead. "It's not ale I'm looking for, beauty. Why don't you come over here and sit on my lap so's I can show you what I really want." Mulder backed away a step, watching the men warily. "I'm not allowed to be so familiar with the customers, sir, but I'd be glad to get you another ale or perhaps some food." A lump formed in Mulder's throat as the man glared at him and whistled for Mrs. Mitchell. "Mistress, a word please!" "Leave the kid alone, August." Haley scowled down into his ale. "We got more important things to think about than what that boy has between his legs." "Shut up, Haley. I'm still runnin' this gang," Bremer gave the other man a pointed look. "Don't think I don't know about your plans to take over. You'd best be forgetting about that, Jacob, my friend. I'm the leader here and what I say goes. And right now . . .I say I'm gonna' have me a piece of the pretty boy." Millie Mitchell frowned at the trembling Mulder as she made her way over to the table, "What is it, sir? If this boy's been rude to you in any way, I assure you . . ." "Not rude so much as uncooperative, madame. I am but a lonely traveler in need of a little companionship." The man hesitated, waiting for his other two cohorts to stop snickering into their ale mugs. "I merely requested he sit upon my lap and he refused." The man plopped down a hefty bag of gold. Mrs. Mitchell licked her lips greedily as she eyed the fat purse. "He . . .he isn't for sale." The man rattled the bag, making the gold clink invitingly. "Not even for a price." He threw another bag on the table. "After all, he's just a serving boy." Mrs. Mitchell licked her lips again. "I . . .he . . ." "How about this, mistress? I'll give you a bag of my gold and in return this handsome young man will sit on my lap. Surely there can be no harm in a little friendly fondle, now can there?" The innkeeper glanced over at Mulder, who was blushing and shaking his head frantically. Her eyes hardened. "No, I can see no harm in a little slap and tickle, might even do this uppity boy some good." She held out her hand for the gold. The man lay the bag in her covetous palm, holding another bag slightly above her grasping paw. "And without his clothing? Naked as the day he was born? Beautiful and bare under my hands? What price for that, Mistress?" The woman smiled evilly, "I think that other bag should just about cover it." She turned to Mulder who looked ready to bolt for the door. "And you do what you're told or it'll be your hide that'll pay for it. You got that, boy?" Mulder backed up another step, knowing any protest would ultimately prove fruitless. He gasped as his wrist was caught in an iron grip, eyes widening as the smiling man pulled out a large, sharp knife. "Better behave, pretty boy. You're mine now." Mulder gasped as he was slammed face down onto the table, the shirt being torn from his body. He heard one of the men above him whistle. "Looks like you've a very bad little boy on your hands, Mr. Bremer." Mulder hissed as a heavy finger ran across the welts that decorated his shoulders. "Pretty." He heard his captor breathe, and shivered at the implications of that one word. Mulder felt the knife move to the cuff of his pants and panicked. "No please, I don't have any others!" The knife ripped through the old, worn material like it was soft butter. Mulder soon lay naked and shivering across the heavy oak table. "Well, its time you did. These are filthy, my pretty." The man ran his hand over Mulder's smooth bottom. "But you're clean enough. How is that, boy?" "I told you, I don't have any other clothing. I still bathe every day even if I can't change clothes." "A serving boy who bathes every day, how novel." Bremer pulled Mulder up and into his lap, running his hands over the inside of the serving boy's thighs before wrapping a hand around his cock. "Do you like that, my pretty?" "No, sir." Mulder glanced up to see the two hooded men watching him closely, their faces still shrouded in shadow. One of them sat with every muscle in his body straining forward to better see what was unfolding before him, obviously enjoying the show. One thing certain, there would be no help coming from that quarter. Men like that didn't waste their time saving hapless serving boys who were only getting what they deserved. Mulder's face burned with humiliation. Mulder looked over to the other man in the room. The one who had been so intent on his meal only minutes ago. He too now had his eyes glued to the naked man being mauled so publicly. Mulder shivered as Bremer put his big, moist lips against his chest and sucked hard at his tender nipple. He felt another pair of hands rubbing at the switch marks on his shoulders. Haley may not be happy with the current leadership of their little band of thieves, but he was shamelessly enjoying the obvious pain he was helping to cause for the young indentured servant. The big hand that held his cock so tightly began to pump him. He squeezed his eyes closed against his body's natural reaction to this attention. It had been a long time since he had been with his captain, and his traitorous cock didn't seem to know the difference. But Mulder knew and he once again burned with shame that he could become aroused at this debasing treatment. Two big tears slowly slid down the cabin boy's cheeks at the thought of his lost captain. "He's a cold fish, Bremer. I think you need to warm his backside a little. Get him hot for you. Never fails." Mulder yelped as the big man bite down hard on his nipple, pulling it painfully away from his chest as he let go of it. The highwayman then leaned forward and licked the swollen little nub like a big cat playing with a captured mouse. Mulder shivered with revulsion. "I think you may be right, Harmon." Bremer pushed Mulder off his lap, jerking him around to pull him face down where he had just been sitting. "Do you like my lap better from this angle, boy. You're probably more used to having this side up, I'd say." Mulder resolutely looked up and over his shoulder as the big man's hand came down hard on his upturned bottom. He refused to cry out. Refused to acknowledge the pain Bremer was causing him. He watched as if the bared bottom belonged to someone else as it quivered and reddened under the man's relentlessly punishing hand. "You're a tough one, you are, but you aren't getting up from here until you've shed a barrel of tears for me, pretty boy. So the longer that takes, the more fun I have." Mulder bit down on his bottom lip until he tasted his own salty blood. He squeezed his eyes shut and resolutely looked down at the floor. He would pass out before he gave this man the satisfaction of hearing him cry. Bremer stuck a big, stubby finger in his mouth, then without warning shoved it up inside the cabin boy. Mulder screamed in pain, his bottom wiggling frantically. "That ought to keep you well in place while I heat up this bottom for you. Do you like that, boy? Do you like the feel of me filling that tight little hole of yours?" "I think that's enough!" The voice was soft, dark and dangerous. Nothing more than a whisper but it somehow carried all the menace in the world in it's sultry tones. Mulder looked back up over his shoulder, this time to see one of the dangerous hooded men with a razor sharp saber pointed at Bremer's throat. "This is none of your business, friend. I paid for the use of this boy. He's mine to do with as I wish." "And just whom did you pay?" "Why his mistress, of course." "I happen to know for a fact that this particular boy doesn't have a mistress. He belongs to me." "Captain?" Mulder gasped softly, distressed that his voice cracked on the word. "Dammit Walter, why'd you have to go and do that? Now we're never going to catch Blevins." Reggie pulled the hood off his head, standing with his hands planted firmly on his hips. "He was just giving the kid a spanking. It's not like he doesn't deserve two or three that I know of, probably more!" Without warning Reggie had whirled around, his sword now pointing at Mrs. Mitchell's fat neck. "You got a problem with us taking our cabin boy out of here, mistress?" "No, sir! Not at all. He's more trouble than he's worth anyway!' "I'd say that's a mighty astute observation, madame. Now if you and your husband will kindly move over behind these gentlemen, we'll be on our way." "What about me?" A voice quivered from under a far table. It was the man who had stopped in for an ill-fated noon meal. "You going to try to stop us?" Reggie asked. "Not me!" "Then just stay where you are and you won't get hurt. And YOU," Reggie pointed to the man who still held Fox over his knees. "If I were you, I'd let him up. The captain has a very short fuse when it comes to that brat." Mulder scrambled up from the man's lap, his eyes now filling with tears as he was pulled into his captain's strong arms to be hugged tightly against his massive chest. Skinner finally pulled back enough to look Mulder over from heat to foot. He lifted one big paw to turn the cabin boy's face slightly to look at the yellow, black and green of a fading bruise. "What happened to his jaw?" Austin Mitchell swallowed hard, "He . . .uh . . ." "Indentured servants are supposed to do what they're told," Millie stuck her own chin out defiantly, sure of the truth of her opinion on this particular issue. "He wouldn't work for his keep!" The captain released Mulder, taking two steps to tower over the now cringing woman. "You hit him?" "No! It was my man." Milled assured quickly, while Austin lost even more of the color from his face. "He had to hit the boy to get him to behave. 'Tis a common enough practice with the likes of him." "And just what would that be, madame?" Skinner's face had become an unhealthy shade of purple. He turned when he felt a hand on his arm. "It's all right, sir." Mulder shrugged his shoulders. "It didn't hurt much and it's almost healed now. Just let it go and we can just get out of here." Mulder looked a little uncertain for a moment. "You are taking me with you, aren't you?" "Of course, although you may wish I hadn't when I'm done with you." Skinner turned to the innkeepers. "Take the shackles off him." As Austin Mitchell hurried to do the pirate's bidding, his wife tried once more to plead for understanding. "You can't take him. If Blevins comes back and finds him gone, he'll kill us all." "I would find that no great loss, mistress." Skinner snarled, causing the woman to take an involuntary step back. "I suggest that if you don't want to face Mr. Blevins you make yourself scarce but if you do see him, tell him that Captain Walter Skinner is looking for him." Mrs. Mitchell took another step back, putting a trembling hand to her throat, "Captain Skinner of the Chauve Terreur? That Walter Skinner?" The captain pulled his hood back to reveal his perfect bald head. "Yes madame, that would be the one. Tell him he can run but he can never hide. He has to be punished for what he's done to my cabin boy." "Your. . .your . . .cabin boy . . ." Millie Mitchell all but choked on her words. "We had no idea! We would never have . . ." "But you did," Skinner said low and dangerously. "You'd best be gone from here. Once Fox tells me all that's happened to him while under your tender care, I may not be able to stop myself from coming back here to further discuss his treatment with the both of you. As Captain Purdue pointed out, I have little patience when it comes to Fox's health and well being." "Captain Purdue? Reggie Purdue?" Austin Mitchell grabbed for his heart, his face as white as a sheet. "Oh Lord have mercy on us all!" "You'd best hope for Captain Skinner's mercy today, innkeeper." Reggie brought forth an icy smile for the trembling man. "The Lord, I would think, has little pity for the likes of you. You've just spent the past three weeks torturing one of his angels." "Oh for heaven's sake, not that angel shit again! Reggie, I can't believe you would. . ." Mulder stopped mid-rant at the look he received from both his captains. He swallowed hard. Maybe he'd let them call him an angel, just this once. Skinner pointed a big finger right at his nose. "Not one word from you, brat. You go get on my horse, I'll join you when I'm finished here. Go! Now!" Mulder nodded, eyes wide as he ran from the room, hearing Reggie's distinctive chuckle behind him. "You haven't heard the last form me," Bremer warned. "We'll be seeing each other again." "I look forward to it." Skinner smiled evilly as he backed slowly out of the room. * * * "Uh sir, could I get dressed now?" Mulder looked over his shoulder to where his captain sat in the saddle behind him. "You don't have any clothes. Remember?" "Oh." Mulder squirmed, trying to find a comfortable position for his abused bottom on the hard leather saddle. The arm around his waist tightened and he was pulled back to sit more fully on the captain's lap. He squirmed again. The captain smiled. He knew his lap was no more comfortable on a sore bottom than the saddle but it was sure a hell of a lot more enjoyable for the captain. "Sit still, brat. We'll stop in a few minutes and I'll wrap a blanket around you. I want to tend your injuries as well. I would be most unhappy if they were to leave scars on your soft skin." "How did you find me so quickly? " The cabin boy asked as casually as possible, afraid he might disgrace himself with more tears. "Quickly? I've been searching for you for three weeks, Fox! Three weeks of pure hell, I might add. How in the blasted hell did you get yourself all the way out here to some God-forsaken hell- hole of an inn? And why did you leave the ship to begin with?" Mulder cringed away from the irate captain. "Uh, Colton said you'd been captured and they were going to hang you." "Son of a bitch, I cannot believe that you would fall for the same damned lie a second time! Don't you ever learn? Do I have to punish you every day of your life, Fox? Tie you to my bed? What, brat? Can't we ever just live in peace and harmony? Can't you just once . . ." Skinner stopped abruptly as the bare shoulders in front of him shook with silent sobs. His heart melted. "Oh Fox, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Well, I did but damn it, Fox . . ." The captain halted the horse pulling the cabin boy around into his arms as the sobs broke free, sounding as if they were coming from the very depths of the cabin boy's soul. "Sh-h-h-h, there's no need to cry. You're safe now." "You're . . .you're right! I am too much trouble. You should just give me back to Blevins and forget you ever saw me." Mulder took a deep hitching breath, looking up at Skinner with hopeless, hazel eyes. "But please, even if you give me back, will you find Samantha? Make sure she's safe. She's so sweet and kind, and never any trouble. Just that one thing, please captain? You don't even have to do it for me. Once you get to know Samantha you'll see that you did the right thing. You'll like , really you will. She isn't anything like me. And you'll never have to lay eyes on me again. I pro . . .I promise!" Skinner pulled the sobbing cabin boy tightly against his chest before he could see the captain's own errant tears. "Oh for heavens sake, Fox, do you really think I could let go of you? Stop those tears. You are a brat, but you're my brat and it's going to stay that way for the rest of our lives." He rubbed a soothing hand over his cabin boy's bare, trembling back, "We'll find you sister for you and we'll all live out our days on my beautiful island. There isn't nearly as much for you to get in trouble with when we're there." "Th . . .there isn't?" Mulder sniffed, looking at Skinner skeptically. The captain couldn't help but chuckle. "No, not as much land mast and we don't have that damned crow's nest to contend with." The captain dismounted, carefully lifting the cabin boy down with him. "Come over here and sit on this rock, I want to look at your back before Reggie gets back with the rest of the crew." Mulder looked up with horror filled eyes and then down at his own nude body, heat rising to his face. Skinner chuckled again as he applied a soothing slave to the welts on Fox's shoulders and the abrasions around his ankles left by the heavy, iron shackles he'd had to wear for so long. "I should have killed them for this." "No. It wasn't so bad. You did the right thing to let them live. I just hope Blevins doesn't catch up with them." "You liked those people?" Skinner had stopped bandaging Mulder's ankles to stare at him incredulously. "They tortured you, Fox!" "Well no, I didn't particularly like them but I hardly think that giving me a beating or two warrants a death sentence for anyone." "That, my beautiful cabin boy, is a matter of opinion." Skinner pulled his own cloak from his body and wrapped it tightly around his cabin boy's naked body. "Better?" "Yes, thank you, sir." Mulder looked down as he scraped a toe in the soft dead leaves under his feet. "Is Tom Colton with the rest of the crew, sir?" "No Fox, he disappeared the same night that you did. We haven't found him, nor have I been able to get my hands on that bastard, Blevins." "I can't say I'm sorry. I really don't know what I'd say to Colton at this point." "Don't worry about it, Fox. I have our reunion with the man all planned out." Mulder nodded sadly, rubbing his aching stomach as it rumbled loudly. He looked up startled as Skinner bellowed with anger. "What?" "Don't tell me!" "I can go well over four days without food now, sir." Mulder said proudly, his smile transforming into a startled yelp as his captain swung him up into his big arms, reaching the waiting horse in three giant strides. "I will never understand why in the blasted hell these people always feel like they have to starve you. It isn't bad enough that they steal you from my bed on a regular basis, beat you senseless at the first opportunity, and then make me trudge all over God's green earth, not to mention vast seas, to find you. They have to starve you too?" "I'm fine, sir." "Shut up, Fox." Skinner plopped his cabin boy down in the saddle as he started rummaging through his saddle bags, finally pulling out a chunk of bread and some dried fish wrapped in an oiled cloth. "Here eat this! Every bite of it! And you can just wipe that look off your face right now. I don't care if you like it or not, you'll eat it. I swear, the next person who doesn't feed you is going to feel the point of my sword in some very unpleasant places!" Skinner shoved a skin of water into Mulder's hands before pulling himself up behind his cabin boy. He wrapped his arm tightly around Fox's middle and gently kicked his horse forward, still seething that Fox had once again experienced hunger. Only minutes after finishing the made-shift meal, the captain found himself with an armful of soundly sleeping cabin boy. He shifted Fox's weight around until he was lying more fully against his captain's broad chest, snuggled warmly in the cradle of the bigger man's arms. Skinner was more than happy with the arrangement as it gave him the opportunity to look down into the ridiculously young and beautiful face of the peacefully slumbering man. Something he didn't get to do nearly as much as he would like. * * * "Have you gone completely mad?" "Come on, Samantha," William Scully whined. "You know I love you, why won't you marry me?" "You're a pirate." "I can change that!" She just looked at him skeptically. "Really! I have plenty of gold. We can build a house here or we can buy our own island or we can go to the colonies and start a plantation. We can do anything you want, sugar, anything!" "My brother doesn't like you." "I can change that!" Samantha narrowed her eyes dangerously. "Really! I'll make Fox change his mind about me. I'll be his new best friend. You'll see, he'll come around. I promise." "You're too tall." "I can change that!" Samantha's brow climbed over her left eye. "Well okay, that one might be a little more difficult but I'll work on it." Samantha couldn't help herself, she started laughing. She threw herself back on the soft grass and laughed until the tears rolled down her flushed cheeks. It felt so good to laugh again, now if only Fox would come home safe and sound. She looked up through her wet lashes to see Red Willie still standing hopefully over her, that ludicrous white hat gripped tightly in his hands. "Wherever did you get that hat, William?" Willie looked down sheepishly, "Napoleon loaned it to me. He said Captain Skinner took it off a rich merchant from France. It's supposed to be what all the most respectable gentleman are wearing now." "I see. And tell me William, is it a hat that makes a man respectable? Or is it what's inside his heart?" "What's inside my heart is you, Samantha, only you. And just because I grew up on the streets, well so did Fox, and everybody thinks he's some kind of saint or something. Mother Maggie says that I come from good stock so you wouldn't have to worry about our kids or anything. I can change, Sammy, I know I can." "Well I'll think about it, William. Now come, we're due back at the house for dinner. And if you're a very good boy," she looked up at him from under fluttering lashes. "I'll let you walk me up to the vampire caves tonight." "Ah, Sammy, you know there aren't any such thing as . . ." * * * Gentleman John watched through his spyglass as Captain Skinner and Fox came back aboard the Chauve Terreur. He was hidden in a small cove under dense cover, he was sure none of the crew of the other pirate ship had a clue the Severed Heart was so near. He looked around when he heard frantic mumbling coming from behind him. Scott Blevins lay on deck, bound from neck to toe by thick, course rope, a huge gag in his painfully open mouth. "Just shut up, Blevins! You're the cause of all my trouble and now you're going to pay for it. Captain Skinner wants you! I've decided to offer him what he wants in return for that cabin boy. Surely Skinner must be tired of the brat by now. In fact, if he's anything like his sister it's a wonder he hasn't thrown the pretty to the sharks already." Another frantic grumble came from behind the gag. Gentleman John ignored his captive as he watched Skinner tie a rope around the cabin boy's waist and then attach the end to his own belt. Now that was odd. He shrugged his shoulders, he supposed being around one of the Mulder kids for an extended period of time could make anyone act a little strangely. Roche waited until the Chauve Terreur had weighed anchor and began to sail before he followed suit. He planned to overtake the other ship at sunrise tomorrow morning. "Do you want me to put him down below, sir?" Gentleman John turned to his new first mate, "No, Mr. Colton, I want to look at him right where he is. Prepare to weigh anchor." "Yes, sir." Tom Colton smiled as he turned to leave. Gentleman John Roche was going to make him a very rich man, and allow him the even greater pleasure of exacting revenge against those who had tried to ruin his life. Revenge against Captain Skinner and his whip and much more importantly, against that goody- goody cabin boy of his. He planned to make the captain watch while he slowly tortured Fox. That would no doubt be enough to kill Skinner, too. He hoped not, he'd like to spend a few hours inflicting pain on the big, handsome captain before he died. * * * Reggie and Captain Skinner sat on deck, peacefully smoking their pipes and watching the moonlight play on the slowly passing water. This was one of their favorite rituals while at sea together, and one they indulged in whenever possible. "Good wind. We should be home in a couple of days." Skinner smiled, thinking of his peaceful island and the cabin boy who shared his home. "What about Samantha?" Reggie asked as he blew perfect smoke rings into the night sky. The smile faded from the captain's face. "I don't know, Reggie. I do know we can't just keep sailing around out here hoping to run into the Severed Heart. Maybe if we go back to the island, he'll come to us. I don't have a better plan right now." "It's not a bad plan. How are you going to protect Fox?" "Well, strangely enough, Lucius has volunteered to act as Fox's guard until this matter is settled." "Sort of like letting the wolf into the chicken coop, don't you think?" "You don't trust Lucius?" "With Fox's life, absolutely." Reggie chuckled as Skinner relaxed a little. "With his virtue, not in the least." "You think Lucius would try to take advantage of my cabin boy?" The look the older man bestowed on Skinner said it all. "Yeah, I know," Skinner smiled back at Reggie. "Fox is a good- looking young man. Who wouldn't want him?" "Yes, he's beautiful," Reggie allowed. "But that really isn't his appeal. It's that damned look he gets on his face all the time. Eyes wide and fathomless, his mouth slightly open while straight, white teeth nibble at that amazing bottom lip of his. It's all an illusion of course. When he gets that blank look, the next words out of his mouth are always shockingly brilliant. But damn, while the boy is wearing that face, it's like he needs nothing more than to be thrown over the nearest piece of furniture." Skinner chuckled. "If anyone else said that about him, I'd kill them." "Maybe, but you'd still know it was true." "Yes, I would." There was silence for a long few minutes, then Skinner finally spoke again. "Reggie, in all the years I've known you, you've never once told me what you got out of making me your cabin boy. I mean I was just a little kid and even when I got older you never tried to well . . .you know. We were never like Fox and I. Why did you do it? Why did you save me?" Reggie puffed on his pipe a few times. "Do you remember the first time I saw you, Walter?" "I was crying." "Yes, you were. You were seven years old and sitting in front of a rat-infested hovel, and you were crying because your whole family lay inside dead of the plague." "I remember how they screamed, and I didn't know what to do so I just kept giving them water. Then one by one, the screaming stopped. When they were all quiet I went out and sat on the steps waiting to die myself." "You didn't want to come with me. I had to force you up onto my horse, kicking and screaming like a wildcat." "You looked so frightening. So dark! All I saw was black. Black clothes, black boots, and to be honest I had never seen a black man before either. And besides, I was sure the sickness would take me soon, and I wanted to be with my mother, sisters and little Jamie." "You've been trying to save your little brother ever since." "If you're suggesting that I think of Fox as a little brother then you are very sadly mistaken, my friend." Reggie smiled, "No, I wasn't referring to Fox. Although I do believe that first night when you rushed into the counting house you merely intended to save yet another innocent. I heard how you insisted on carrying him back to the ship yourself. When did you first fall in love with the boy, Walter." "Blevins had beaten him and then he was going to let his friends rape him. I was furious. I planned to have Fox taken back to the ship, then I was going to drop him at the first available port. At least that way he'd be away from that fat son-of-a-bitch merchant. But then as I looked down on him lying across that table, naked and hurting, his eyes opened. Just for a second, just one flicker, but they were green like summer grass and he looked straight into my soul. I felt my heart melt in my chest." "It was similar for me. You looked up at me with those dark chocolate eyes of yours, and I knew I'd found the son I'd always secretly wanted." "We spent so much time in your cabin together, Reggie. You couldn't have shared your bed with another man after I came on board. Why did you do it? At least with Fox after I get done spanking his bottom, I get to love him to distraction." "Which is part of his problem, by the way. Spoiled rotten." "You think so? Do you know what he told me tonight? That when he was taken by Blevin's man he didn't fight because he had always known that the life he had with me wouldn't have lasted forever anyway. It had been too good, more than he deserved. Does that sound like a spoiled brat to you?" "You told me the same thing once. Remember? We had docked on a pirate island to pick up supplies, and I'd told you to stay on board because the place was much too dangerous for a little boy. Of course you didn't listen. I can't imagine what made me think you would. So sure enough, I turn around and see you slip around the corner of a building. When I finally caught up with you, you said you knew I was going to throw you off the ship eventually and you thought it would be easier if you left on your own." "I'd forgotten about that. I couldn't sit down for a week after that." "I brought you back to my cabin and used my belt on you until they could hear you singing clear up on deck. It broke my heart but I had to be sure you'd never again leave the ship without my permission." "It worked. I never tried that again. But I do remember feeling the need to run away. My life on the farm had been hard. My dad drank too much before he finally took off for good. Mom, my sisters and I just couldn't get anything to grow, and Jamie was just a baby. We never had enough to eat or enough coal for a warm fire. When you brought me to the ship, you fed me and gave me warm clothing and you never asked for anything except a little light work. It didn't feel right. I knew it couldn't last." "So you and your bratty cabin boy are more alike than you think." "No, I've never seen anyone as kind and generous as Fox. The whole time I had him sitting naked on my horse waiting for me to come out of that damned inn, he was worried that I'd lose my temper and hurt the very people who had been hurting him for weeks. And he isn't even aware that other people wouldn't feel that way. He thinks he's just an ordinary man who deserves nothing special from life." "And what about you, Walter, what do you deserve from life?" "I'm the captain of a pirate ship, Reggie. I probably deserve nothing more than a good length of rope around my neck." "Walter, remember when I said you try to rescue Jamie over and over again. I wasn't talking about Fox. I was talking about that pathetic crew you've assembled and that motley group of free- loading old pirates that live on your island, not to mention the other dregs of society that have taken up residence there." "My crew isn't pathetic! We seize our share of rich merchant ships. The name of the Chauve Terreur is feared up and down the shipping lanes. I have a good crew." "Yes, the Chauve Terreur has quiet a reputation thanks to the nimble tongues of it's bragging crew and the genuine skill and bravery of its captain. And yes, you do collect a respectable amount of treasure. But it's also known that if a merchant ship doesn't put up a fight, it can sail happily away unscathed from an encounter with Captain Walter Skinner. Sail away without a drop of blood being shed, and a big, bad pirate crew waving bye-bye to them while wishing them God's speed." "That's not true, Reggie! My crew can be cut-throat when they need to be." "Frohike? Langly? Your ever-dependable Mr. Byers?" "Those are very specific exceptions. Not everyone is cut out to be a cold-blooded killer. And what other dregs of society live on my island?" "Oh Walter, if you were any cuter I might still have to try to get you in my bed." The captain let out an outraged gasp, "I am not ! How could you even suggest such a thing?" "I can't imagine. Why don't you go down and coddle your cabin boy before I decide to warm your bottom for being so endearingly naive. I just hope the other pirates never find out what I know about you." "Naive! Reggie, I don't much like the way this conversation is going!" "I doubt you do. Too bad. Now, go spoil the brat. I want to think about this Gentleman John problem a little while longer." "Humph!" For a second, Reggie was sure Walter was going to stomp his foot at him, just like he'd done so many years ago. He obviously thought better of it, possibly remembering the lesson about foot-stomping he'd learned over Reggie's knee all those same years past. Walter had almost reached the galley stairs when he turned back around. "Reggie?" "Yes, Walter." "You won't tell Fox that I let the merchant ships go will you?" "No Walter, I'll let your brat continue to think you're a blood- thirsty demon of the seas." "Uh . . .thanks." Skinner could still hear Reggie chuckling when he reached his cabin to shoo the ever vigilant Chester back to his own bunk so he, himself, could take over the coveted job of adoring Fox Mulder. "You can come out now." Reggie said. "There's no one on this side of the deck now." "How did you know Duane Barry was here?" The man crawled carefully out of his hiding place by the dinghies. "I think I get to ask the questions, young man. Like who are you? Why did you follow us from that inn? What are you planning?" "Fox is Duane Barry's friend. Duane Barry wants to protect him." "Protect him from what?" "Whatever tries to hurt him. Fox saved me. Mr. Mitchell hurt Duane Barry real bad. Fox took care of me. He stole medicine for me and gave me his food while he went hungry. Duane Barry owes Fox his life." Reggie shook his head in amazement. Maybe that little brat really was an angel. "I see. So just because Fox was kind to you, you followed him onto a pirate ship? You're a very brave man." Duane swallowed hard as he looked around nervously, "Fo . . .Fox told me that Captain Skinner was different. That not all pirates hurt people." "Do you really believe that, Mr. Barry?" "I want to believe." Mother Maggie fussed one more time with the hand-made lace that served as the bride's headpiece. "Oh, are you sure you want to go through with this, dear? The man's a pirate." "I love him, Maggie. I can't remember ever being this happy. You wouldn't want less for me would you?" "Of course not. Your happiness means the world to me, you know that. It's just that he's so . . .so . . ." "Tall." Maggie chuckled in spite of herself. "Well yes, he is that." "In his heart he's also a good and decent man. What more could I ask for in a husband?" "But you've known him for such a short period of time. Think of the things he's done. The places he's been." "But he's here now and he truly loves me. That's all that counts." "Shouldn't you at least wait until the Chauve Terreur returns? Fox and that disreputable captain of his will be so disappointed to have missed your wedding." "It will make little difference if I marry before or after they return, the result will be the same. There will just be less discussion and fewer objections. And besides, I don't want to wait." "It's plain to see that you got a good dose of the impetuousness that clearly runs in the family." "Come, Maggie. It's time to go. My future husband is waiting for me." The groom stood nervously, tugging at the unfamiliar feel of the Westcott around his throat. He was sweating and chilled at the same time. So what if he loved the woman beyond all distraction? Was it really wise for a man of his background to marry such a sweet, virtuous lady? Maybe he could sneak out the back door right now and save all of them from making a . . . His breath caught in his throat, all thoughts of fleeing his fate gone instantly from his mind. He'd never seen anything so lovely in his entire life. As his sweet, smiling bride reached his side, the tall pirate looked down into sparkling blue eyes. "I love you, Mary." "As I do you, Clyde." * * * Frohike looked up from where he was stirring the huge pot of stew. He hated galley duty. He scowled at the man who had just walked in the door. "Not quite ready yet, kid. Come back in an hour." "Sure, Frohike. Sorry." Mulder turned to leave and ran straight into the solid chest of his captain. "Where do you think you're going? I told you to get something to eat." "It isn't ready yet, sir. I'll just come back a little later." Frohike's eyes widened as the glowering captain trained those deadly black eyes on him, while his right hand moved to lay on the hilt of the sword that he kept always at his side. "Wh . . .what?" Frohike managed to squeak as the big man continued to advance on him. "Are you refusing to feed my cabin boy?" Frohike swallowed hard as he again noticed the sword was now partially out of its sheath. "Uh . . .uh . . .uh . . ." "Captain, you're scaring him." Mulder placed a calming hand on Skinner's sleeve. "It's just not ready yet. I'm not all that hungry. I'll just come back later." "You'll eat now or I'll know the reason why. I swore to myself that the next person who refused to feed you would feel the edge of my sword and I never break my word." "Shit!" Frohike backed away toward the store room, "I didn't realize the kid was hungry, sir. I"ll . . .I'll find something back here. I know we have some dried fish . . ." Frohike stopped as Mulder scrunched up his face, shaking his head frantically behind the captain's back. "Oh wait, I forgot we used the last of that. Let's see, how about some . . . cheese?" Frohike said hesitantly as he glanced askance at Mulder who smiled and nodded his approval. Frohike sighed with relief. Mulder looked up through his lashes at the captain who seemed determined to monitor every bite that went into his mouth. It really was tasty, the bread freshly baked and the cheese tangy but Mulder was getting quite full. He pushed the plate away, watching closely for a reaction from Skinner. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Frohike was doing the same thing. Both men were greatly relieved when the captain smiled at him. "Okay now, Fox?" "Yes, sir. I'm fine, sir." "Good. I want to put some more ointment on your injuries, then you can take a nap." "A nap! I don't want to take a nap. Langly said I could spend some time in the crow's . . ." Mulder sighed as the captain's scowl became thunderous. "Or not." "Or not, indeed. Come with me, young man." Mulder rolled his eyes at Frohike, barely managing not to get caught in the act, as the captain pulled him from the galley. * * * "You are pouting!" Mulder looked over to where Chester stood laughing at him from the cabin door. "I pout." The boy threw back his head, laughing even harder. "Angels shouldn't lie, Fox. You would do well to follow the excellent example of Chester Bonaparte," the boy thumped his own chest proudly. "Chester Bonaparte, he never lies." "Yes and is so very humble, too." Mulder sulked. "So why are you so disagreeable today, my angel. Are you in trouble with your captain again so soon?" "As usual." Chester shrugged his shoulders, "He loves you. This over protectiveness, it is often the way of love, is it not?" Mulder smiled, "I suppose." "See, you can be as wise as Chester Bonaparte," the boy showed an amazing display of white teeth as he smiled widely. "Before he died, my grandfather told me that you were very special and that I should do everything in my power to ensure your happiness." "Your grandfather was far too appreciative for just a few crusts of moldy bread. He shouldn't have extracted such a promise from you." "He knew that once he was gone, I would have nothing else to hold me to that small town. It is good that Chester Bonaparte is here with you, is it not?" "Yes, Chester, it's good. But you probably should get out of here before the captain finds you. He's ordered me to take a nap." "It is all right. He is busy on deck. A ship has been spotted." "A ship?" Mulder sat straight up in the bed. "Is it the Severed Heart?" "No. It is merely a merchant ship." Chester wondered around the cabin, fingering the books and maps. "Are you going to feed your friend?" Mulder looked at his curiously, "What?" "Your friend who is stowed away on deck. Duane Barry." "Duane Barry is here? On board this ship? That can't be," Mulder shook his head adamantly. "He's afraid of pirates." "He followed you here. It seems he was more concerned for your safety than for his own." "Why would he do that?" "You were kind to him, my angel, just as you were kind to my grandfather. But he needs more help from you now. He has had no food or water since he came on board. Captain Purdue assumes he is sneaking out at night but he is too frightened to do so. It is time for you to take some to him. He's concealing himself on deck by the dinghies where you usually go to try to hide from your captain." "I do not from my captain. I go there to think." "Yes, angel. You go there to think about how to avoid your captain." Mulder's eyes narrowed at the boy. He sighed when Chester just continued to laugh at him. He didn't understand why no one took his dangerous looks seriously. * * * "Come on, Duane, you have to come out of here. There's a storm coming and it isn't safe to be up here." "No." "Duane, Captain Skinner isn't going to hurt you. He's really a sweet guy." Barry chuckled, "He's going to have your ass for talking like that, Fox." Without warning the ship was rocked as a mighty clap of thunder rumbled around it. "The storm must be right on top of us, Duane, you have to come below with me now." "Fox, I . . ." Again the ship pitched violently as another deafening blast tore through the air. Mulder could hear the sound of backwash as it hit the deck. The waves must be huge already. Mulder became aware of the sound of men shouting. "That isn't thunder, that's cannon fire!" Mulder scrambled for the opening in the canvas that sheltered their hideout. The deck was alive with activity as the seamen prepared to board the merchant ship that had come along side and was now almost touching the side of the Chauve Terreur. The smell of gun powder was thick in the air. It combined with the low, rain-heavy clouds to give an ominous, suffocating feel as the two huge ships hung suspended in their own dark world. "Duane, we're looting a merchant ship! I gotta' get up to the crow's nest so I can see the whole thing without the captain sends me back to his cabin." "Fox, you can't do that! You gotta' stay here where it's safe. If you go out there the pirates will capture you. You don't want that to happen, Fox. Listen to Duane Barry, you really don't want to be taken by the pirates. They'll hurt you like they hurt Duane Barry!" "It'll be all right, Duane. Why don't you go down to the galley and get something to eat. You don't have to worry about the pirates, Duane, I promise." Duane tried to grab for Mulder's arm but the cabin boy was through the canvas opening and out on deck before he could get a good hold on him. Duane started to crawl out of his makeshift shelter. He needed to tell that formidable pirate captain what Fox was doing but just as he moved, a blinding flash of lightening illuminated the deck of the pirate ship. To Duane's deluded eyes, the deck appeared awash with blood. He screamed and scrambled back to safety. Mulder managed to climb the rigging of the swaying ship and crawl safely into the crow's nest. The view was everything that he had hoped it would be. The angry sea billowed and crested around them as the storm approached, while the pirates made short work of relieving the crew of the merchant ship of their treasure. It was a little confusing though. Captain Skinner had led the cabin boy to believe that he couldn't be involved in looting merchant ships because it was a dangerous, bloody affair. When in fact, it seemed to be a rather dull affair. The pirates were holding the crew of the merchant ship rather haphazardly at the end of their swords while Captain Skinner and a man, who could only be the captain of the merchant ship, seemed to be engaged in a friendly conversation. It was all most peculiar. Mulder could see Robert Modell skulking around below. He seemed to be talking to one of the merchant ship's crewmen. The man nodded at Modell, took the sword that Modell offered, and started toward where Captain Skinner's stood. Mulder yelled a warning but there was too much commotion below for anyone to hear him. He started to leap over the edge of the crows nest, knowing he could never climb down quickly enough to save his captain but also knowing he had to try. He threw one long leg over the basket, taking another quick look below. He stopped dead still, stunned to see that the man who had been sneaking up on Skinner now lay unconscious on the deck. "What the . . ." Mulder searched frantically, turning completely around in his high perch. Modell was nowhere to be found. As the last of the cargo of the looted ship was being loaded aboard the Chauve Terreur the skies opened up with a blinding downpour. Mulder was almost knocked from his precarious perch by a sudden gust of wind. He grabbed on to the sides with white knuckles, then slowly lowered himself down into the basket pulling a whale-skin rain slicker up over his head for protection. Frohike waved at the departing ship only to get a sharp elbow to his ribs from his captain. "Stop that!" "What did I do?" "Don't wave at the ships after we've plundered them. It's bad form." "I wasn't waving at the ship, captain. I was waving at the nice little girl." "Well, don't wave at her either. Young girls should not be sailing the sea," Skinner placed his hands on his hips, spreading his legs wider for extra balance, as he watched the merchant ship disappear behind the quickly intensifying waves. "It's bad luck." Frohike didn't know what to say to that. It had certainly been bad luck for the ship that had just lost its precious cargo but the girl had been adorable. Just a few years younger than Fox and with that same overly-curious attitude. Frohike had been fascinated by her, she had such big blue eyes and pretty red hair. She'd been a bit odd though. She kept telling Frohike that some day she was going to marry the boy who was standing in the sky. Frohike had looked to where she pointed but all that he had seen was the empty crow's nest. Poor little thing. "I'm going below to be sure Fox isn't frightened of the storm, make sure the ship is secure, Mr. Frohike." "Yes, sir." Thunder and lightening crashed around the little crow's nest as the cabin boy huddled in the bottom of the basket. He really wasn't getting all that wet thanks to the heavy slicker but it was still terrifying. He decided the best course of action would be to climb back down the wet rigging. It would be treacherous but it was also the only way down. And right now, he wanted down very badly. Mulder carefully stood up in the bucking nest. The main sail had been lowered in preparation for the storm as had all the other sails. The masts now stood like swaying ghosts in the pouring rain. The cabin boy lifted one leg over the side, carefully using his toes to find his footing in the sodden, slippery ropes. He lifted his other leg over the edge, breathing a small sigh of relief as he balanced both feet in the shuddering ropes. Just as one hand left the security of the nest another sudden gust of wind lifted the cabin boy backward. He made a desperate, last-ditch grab for the rigging but it was too late. He pitched backward and felt himself falling and falling . . .and falling. Mulder's body landed hard, the air completely knocked out of his lungs. He lay gasping as the heavy rain beat down on his numb body. He had no idea where he now lay and furthermore, he was afraid to open his eyes to find out. If he had fallen to the deck then every bone in his body was no doubt broken and his captain would find his battered corpse once the storm let up. If he had hit the ocean, then he was already dead because he was almost certain he wasn't under water. Slowly as breath returned to his lungs, he opened his eyes to the sight of . . .water! Shit! He must be dead because he was floating a few feet above the churning sea. He could look down at this feet and see the angry waves as they lapped at his boots. Taking a deep calming breath, fighting against the panic that wanted to consume him, Mulder cautiously looked to either side. The gangplank that had been used to board the merchant ship had not been secured tightly enough to the deck, and had come loose in the storm. It was now lodged precariously in a porthole halfway down the side of the ship. The rope that Skinner had tied around his cabin boy's waist, hoping to keep him within eyesight, had wrapped around this sturdy board, and now Mulder was suspended over the ocean several yards out and away from the safety of his ship. Mulder heard a scream just as a dark shape fell in front of him. He tried to grab for the man, managing to hook the ends of his fingers in his coat, but it wasn't enough as Robert Modell continued his wild flight into the sea. The last Mulder saw of the man he had grabbed onto a wooden barrel that had been blown overboard, and was drifting away from the ship. The lightening flashed without pause and the thunder all but deafened the stranded cabin boy. The storm was right over them now, it was like being in the eye of hell. Mulder tried to yell for help but the sound of the raging storm and the churning ocean drowned out his voice before it could reach the few men left on deck. He panicked, kicking his feet wildly and screaming at the top of his lungs. The board suddenly dropped a couple of inches closer to the turbulent water below. Mulder grabbed for the gangplank, wrapping his arms tightly around the rough wood. He held absolutely still, waiting to see if the board would give way and plummet him to his death. The cabin boy could feel the grit of salt in his stinging eyes. He looked down into the water, wondering if sharks came out looking for cabin boy snacks during storms. He didn't see any fins in the water. Mr. Byers had told him that sharks could always be recognized by their fins above the water. Of course right now even the most experienced seaman wouldn't be able to see much of anything in the foaming waves. Mulder looked up again just in time to see a huge wave ready to break over his head sending the board securing him to the ship shuddering and bouncing. Captains Skinner paced in a tight circle inside his cabin. "Where could he be?" Reggie put a calming hand on the anxious man's shoulder, "We'll find him. Maybe you should go look in the ship's hole. He likes it down there for some reason." "Ghosts." Skinner mumbled as he slammed the door behind him. Purdue looked after him, shaking his head. Since when did Walter Skinner believe in ghosts? It would seem the irksome little cabin boy was having a profound effect on Purdue's straight laced prot‚g‚e. Captain Purdue made his way up on deck, his head turned away from the driving rain. He pulled back the tarp just enough to allow himself to climb into Duane Barry's hiding place. The man was curled up in the smallest possible ball in one corner of his small space, his eyes huge in his pale face. Dianne "How you doin', Duane?" "Duane Barry's all right," the man's voice quivered anxiously. "You staying dry enough?" "Yeah." "Duane, do you know where I can find Fox?" Duane looked up in alarm, "Did the pirates take him?" "What pirates would that be, Duane?" "Fox was in here trying to talk Duane Barry into going down below with him but Duane Barry couldn't do that. Not even for Fox. Then we heard the cannons. Duane Barry remembers the cannons. They hurt Duane Barry!" "I know they did, Duane, I know. Just calm down. Can you do that for me, Duane, can you calm down? I need you to tell me where Fox went after you heard the cannon fire." "Crow's nest." "WHAT?" Duane cringed back in his corner, eyes trained fearfully on the shouting man. "Don't hurt Duane Barry. Duane Barry told Fox not to go. Really he did!" "I'm sorry, Duane. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Just calm down. I just can't believe that boy is so foolish. Walter is going to turn him every way but loose when he gets his hands on him." "Please, don't hurt Fox. Fox is Duane Barry's friend." "I know, Duane. I'll make sure Fox doesn't suffer too much for his poor judgement. I've go to go find him now. Are you sure you're all right in here. You could go stay in my cabin. No one would bother you there." "No, Duane Barry will just wait here for Fox to come back." Reggie nodded at the quaking man as he made his way back out on deck. If that boy was up in that crow's nest, Walter really would take a chunk out of his butt. And well he should. Reggie looked up to the top of the main mast to where the crows nest was swaying dangerously. "Want me to go see if he's up there?" Reggie turned around to see Lucius Hartwell standing beside him on the bucking deck. The man had amazing balance, he wasn't even holding on to anything as the ship bucked under the tremendous force of the storm. "No Lucius, I'll do it.' Lucius laid a hand on the other man's arm. "You know why I'm the right man for the job, Reggie. If the captain's brat is still up there I'll find him." Reggie shielded his eyes from the rain as he watched in awe as Lucius shimmied up the wet ropes, completely unaffected by the screaming wind and pouring rain. When the vampire reached the crow's nest, he wasn't surprised to find it empty. He's known the kid wasn't still up there. He could feel him somewhere close but not on the ship. Lucius looked around in confusion. He looked down to be sure no one but Reggie was watching him. He wasn't ready to announce to the whole crew that he had a few special powers up his sleeve. Lucius slithered out of the nest, flattening himself against the rigging. He effortlessly slithered down and over the side of the ship. When he got about half way around he spotted Fox. Somehow the damned kid had gotten himself tangled up in the gangplank and a rope and who knew what else. Mulder could feel the salt thick on his lips now as wave after wave washed over his battered body. He shoulders were screaming but he didn't dare let go of the board. The rope around his waist still felt secure but he didn't feel comfortable trusting it like he had at the beginning. He thought he heard a sound over by the ship but he couldn't open his eyes, the salt water had formed a crusty shell over his lashes. Mulder felt a sob building deep in his chest. He was going to die out here. The sharks would find his drowned body, eat it, and then his captain wouldn't even know what had happened to him. Mulder's breath caught, the captain might even think his cabin boy had escaped on the merchant ship they had met earlier today. He might think Fox had run away from him. A single tear escaped his eye to become lost in the water already covering his face. Mulder gasped as his board bounced up and down several times. He sucked in his breath, waiting to continue his fall into the ocean below. He had always known he would end up as shark food eventually. "You don't need to worry about sharks, brat. If I were you I'd be more concerned about your captain." Mulder's head circled around. The voice sounded so close, like it was inside his head. "All right, pretty boy, hold on and don't say I never did nothin' fer ya'." Mulder's breath caught in his throat as he felt himself being lifted up into the air. He must be dead! Only angels got to fly like this. He fought to open his swollen eyes but his lashes were no match for their salt coating. He felt his feet come down on something solid. Would heaven have oak plank floors? And it was raining here too, imagine that. Suddenly his shoulders were grabbed and he was bing shaken so hard his teeth were rattling and someone was yelling at him. Who would have thought that God's voice would sound just like Reggie Purdue? "You listen to me, little boy, you are in real trouble this time. If Walter doesn't give you the whipping you deserve, then you can just count on me to do it for him!" "Reggie, stop that," Lucius tried to take Mulder out of the angry man's hands. "Let's get him below and wash some of this salt off his face, he doesn't even know who you are right now." "Oh I bet he's got a pretty good idea," Reggie administered one more hearty shake before he released the cabin boy to the care of the vampire. "I'll go find Walter. Meet us in his cabin. That is if you can keep that brat from sneaking off before you get there." "I think he's mad at me." Mulder ventured after the big man had walked away. "Do you really think so, Fox? All that beauty and brains too. Captain Skinner is such a fortunate man." Mulder couldn't see Lucius' face but there was no mistaking the sarcasm in that statement. The cabin boy decided it might be best to just keep his mouth shut for a while. His captain would have been so proud. Once in the warm safety of the captain's cabin, Mulder started to shake. He felt a soft cloth wiping over his face as Lucius tried to remove at least one layer of salty grime. "Langly, get someone to bring the tub in here. We need to get Fox cleaned up and warm before the captain sees him. The man can be a little overprotective at times." "That's putting it mildly. Be right back." Mulder could hear the sounds of the tub being brought into the cabin and filled with water. The wet cloth was resting on his eyes, held firmly in place by Lucius' strong hand. Reggie came pounding back into the cabin. "Walter is on his way, get him in that tub. I don't even want to think what's going to happen to that boy and it would be best if he was at least warm and dry first." Mulder shivered harder. They were all actually afraid of what the captain was going to do to him. Shit! Once he had been unceremoniously stripped and was submerged comfortably in the warm water, Mulder began to feel a little better. The caked salt was being washed from his body and at this point he could care less who was doing the favor. "HEY!" It would appear the captain didn't share his cabin boy's indifference about who was bathing him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" "I'm giving him a bath, captain," Lucius rolled his eyes, "and in front of witness, so just calm down. Fox is safe with me for the moment." "This time I have to agree, Walter," Reggie felt compelled to add. "That brat is probably safer with Lucius than he'll be with you once you find out where we found him." "Modell fell overboard." Mulder whispered, hoping to change the subject a little. "He's lost at sea again." "Damn," Lucius stopped his gentle administration with the wash cloth on Mulder's body. "I liked him." "Yes, for lunch," Reggie snorted ignoring Captain Skinner's puzzled look. Lucius smirked, "The man had truly excellent taste. I'll miss him." "Well I won't," Reggie declared as he glared at the dozing cabin boy. "Put that brat to bed before he drowns. We'll deal with him later." "But Reggie," Skinner watched longingly as a wet, naked Fox was lifted from the tub, dried off and tucked into the big bed. "I want to . . ." "I know what you want to do. It'll have to wait. We need to go see what else besides Modell was lost during this storm." * * * Mulder awakened some time later to the sound of someone entering the cabin. He slowly opened one eye to see both Captain Skinner and Captain Purdue standing over his bed. He snapped the eye shut, hoping they would both go away. "Forget it, little boy," Reggie snarled. "You can go back to sleep, once your bottom is good and sore that is." Mulder eyes snapped open as Reggie hooked his arm with a big hand and pulled him from the bed. He pushed him, nose first, into his corner. He heard his captain walk up behind him, as hot lips touched behind his ear. "I have a present for you from the treasure we just captured, Fox." yes snapped open as Reggie hooked his arm with a big hand and pulled him from the bed. He pushed him, nose first, into his Mulder looked over his shoulder in trepidation. He was fairly certain that any gift given while he had his nose in his corner could only bode ill for his backside. "A hairbrush, sir?" Fox swallowed hard as he eyed the brush. It had a solid wood back, flat and hard. Etched into the wood was a beautiful, intricate design. It was a fox resting on his haunches, his long, bushy tail fanned out behind him. "Yes, a very special hairbrush. It was freely given to me by a little red-haired girl who insisted I needed it more than she. She told me that an old, gypsy fortune-teller had given it to her. The little lady made it quite clear that it was for . I thought she was daft, poor little thing, until I found out that she had seen something I had not. THAT YOU WERE IN THAT DAMNED CROW'S NEST AGAIN!" Mulder flinched as the volume of his captain's voice caused his ears to ring. He would have liked to ask more questions about the little girl but was distracted as he heard the ominous sound of the dreaded brush smacking against his captain's palm. "It seems that young lady was quite right. This hairbrush will indeed come in very handy. I'm going to use it to spank you until every man on deck is certain I'm committing murder down here, then when my arm is too tired to strike again, I'm going to let Reggie take over for me. You'll be lucky if you can sit down by Christmas, Fox." "Please sir . . ." Mulder was trembling from head to toe, tears already filling his wide, hazel eyes. He looked over his shoulder at his captain, bottom lip trembling unhappily, "I'm sorry, sir. Really I am." Skinner swallowed hard as he looked into those sad, pleading eyes, lost in their beauty. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the brush was snatched from his hand. "Oh no you don't!" Reggie hissed, "Get over my knee, little boy." Mulder turned his piteous eyes to Reggie. "You can forget that! I'm not so easily swayed after the trick you just pulled. Climbing up into a crow's nest during a storm. You'll be lucky if I leave an inch of skin on that backside of yours. Now get over here, time is wasting." Within seconds Mulder found himself upended over Captain Reggie Purdue's lap. He grabbed the legs of the chair with both hands, hanging on tightly. It was never a good idea to try to protect your bottom when Reggie was the one wielding the paddle. The first smack was so hard, Mulder could feel his skin blister. "Shi-i-i-i-t!" "I'd watch my language, little boy, unless you'd like to sample the taste of lye soap in your mouth. It's an experience you won't soon forget." The back of the solid wooden hairbrush came down over and over again leaving bright red ovals with a white outline of the intricate designed carved in the back. Fox had no time to breathe out between strokes let alone cry out his distress. He ended up just lifting his head and howling to the ceiling. One long continuous keen of pain and humiliation. If it effected Reggie, he gave no sign, not stopping until the bare bottom and back of the thighs had turned a bright, blistered red. He looked up at Skinner who was winching sympathetically as his cabin boy kicked and cried so desperately. "Do you want to finish up with this, Walter?" The captain could only shake his head, his own eyes moist. Reggie shook his head in exasperation. "Of course you don't." Reggie picked up the hairbrush, bringing it high over his right shoulder. "Twelve more, Fox. I'd like to think we won't ever have to do this again." Mulder looked up over his shoulder, gasping as he saw his own flaming red butt as it lay defenselessly in the path of that raised brush. "Please Reggie, I've learned my lesson!" "We'll just make sure, shall we," Reggie brought the brush down with a resounding crack that echoed throughout the cabin. "Ye-Ouch-h-h-h-h! Too hard!" "Regg-ie?" Skinner's voice broke on the last syllable. "Oh for heaven's sake!" Reggie brought the brush down five more times just as hard as the first. Mulder kicked and screamed for all he was worth. The captain lay the brush aside as he pulled Mulder up and pushed him none to graciously into his captain's waiting arms. Mulder put both hands behind him to rub frantically but oh so gently on his flaming posterior. "There, Walter! All yours to love and spoil. At least I made sure he won't be sitting comfortably any time soon." Reggie took one more look at Captain Skinner whispering soothingly into the ear of his prancing cabin boy. He shook his head in disgust as he slammed out of the cabin. "I . . .I'm sorry . . .he . . .he's mad at you." "Sh-h-h-h, don't cry anymore, my beauty. You well deserve that hot bottom but it's all over now." He pulled Mulder back to look into his tear soaked eyes, "However you're not getting any soothing lotion rubbed on it for a good long while. Now get your hands away from your bottom and into the corner with you. You're to be on full display until I tell you that you can move. You need to think about how much your backside is stinging right now and how much worse it will be if I ever catch you in that crow's nest again. You're just lucky I didn't whip you up on deck." The cabin boy sniffled miserably only to feel the captain immediately at his side. "Sh-h-h, it's a hard lesson but one you have to learn." "I . . .I was publicly whipped in London once." The captain's eyes opened wide. "You were? What did you do to warrant such a sentence, Fox.?" Skinner knew it was a common practice for thieves and pickpockets to be condemned to be publicly whipped. He couldn't imagine what his cabin boy could have done to warrant such a harsh punishment? "Did you get caught stealing more meat pies for poor widow ladies?" Skinner smiled as he stroked Fox's trembling back. "No. Red Willie was one of the boys who lived on the street but he didn't work in the woolen house. He said that was for those without enough brains to get money any other way. He was sort of a bully, you know?" "A bully? Did he ever hurt you, Fox?" "A few times. I fought back pretty well. I wasn't as big as him but I kind of have a temper . . ." "Really?" The captain snorted sarcastically. "I hadn't noticed." Mulder gave him a sour face, then turned back to the wall. "This one day Willie had stolen a whole jar of pig's feet and four apples. I wanted him to share with the smaller children but he wouldn't hear of it. The constable came by while we were arguing so we didn't hear him coming. There was no chance to run away like we usually did. I knew Willie had been caught stealing before. If you were found guilty more than once you were sent to the tower, no matter how old you were. I'd heard tales of boys no older than Willie dying in that horrible place. I . . .I told the constable it was me who stole the food." Skinner found himself shaking from head to foot. "Oh Fox! What happened then?" "I was taken before the magistrate. It was a very short trial. Since it was my first offense I was sentenced to twenty-five lashes. There were . . .were so many people there when I was brought out and tied to the whipping post. They were all calling me names and throwing things at me. I was sixteen but they didn't believe me when I told them that. Sixteen was considered a man and I would have received the lashes on my back. Because they thought I was younger they . . .they pulled my pants down and whipped my bare backside and legs. I'll never forget it." "Undoubtedly. Who took care of you afterward?" Mulder looked at him curiously. "Took care of me? I took care of myself, of course. I wasn't hurt that badly. The constable was good enough to bring me back in my alley. I couldn't walk for a day or two but then I went back to work at the woolen house. The owner was angry and wouldn't pay me for the whole week. That hurt more than anything. I almost didn't have enough money to pay for Samantha's boarding that month." "And did you have enough money left for food for yourself?" Mulder smiled through his tears, "Captain, you're always so worried about food. Before I met you, I didn't have much nor did I expect it. It's easier to be hungry when that's all you've ever known." "I see. So did things get better between you and Red Willie after that?" "No. He roughed me up the next week. I was still kind of weak and couldn't fight him off as well as usual. He said I'd shamed him by taking his place. That he could take care of himself and didn't need a little do-gooder like me to do it for him. I didn't regret it though. I knew he would have died in prison." "So you traded yourself for a boy who didn't appreciate it in the least?" "That's hardly the point, sir." "Then what is the point, Fox." "I just want you to know that if you think I deserve public punishment, I can take it and I won't hold it against you later. I understand, captain." Skinner turned Fox around and hugged him tightly. "Come on," he told the bewildered cabin boy. "I think you've stood here long enough, let's get some ointment on that bottom of yours." A short while later Captain Skinner came up on deck to make peace with his former captain. "Reggie, I . . ." "I know, Walter. I take it he's asleep?" "Yes, I made him stand in the corner. You did a good job, his backside was glowing like a lighthouse. I don't think he'll want to make the acquaintance of that hairbrush again any time soon." "So what are you so unhappy about?" "Every time I spank that boy it brings up some other horrendous memory for him. I don't know how much more I can stand. He thinks he had a perfectly normal childhood living on those blasted streets." "Maybe he did. Lots of boys grow up on their own. He certainly turned out all right." "I can't argue with that. He's a fine man." "If a troublesome one." "He's no trouble really," Skinner said magnanimously. Reggie raised an eyebrow at him. "Did you know he's been giving his food to a stole-away that followed him on board?" "WHAT? When did . . .you knew about this?" "Oh I knew the man was on board. He followed Fox because the boy showed him some kindness and he wanted to protect Fox from the horrible pirates. It seems the man was injured aboard Captain Tremaine's Black Honey ship when it went down a couple of years ago." "Is he dangerous?" "Not that I can tell and he is totally loyal to Fox. I thought another pair of eyes on that little boy might be well useful. What I didn't expect was for the brat to decide that he had to share his own rations verses asking for extra for the man." "Jesus, Joseph and Mary!" Skinner put both hands over his face, "What am I going to do with him?" * * * Mulder tried to look around while keeping his nose firmly planted on the main mast. Captain Skinner had come below to drag him from his bed only to deliver three hard smacks to the cabin boy's already sore bottom. Then he had been dragged up on deck, and his nose planted firmly against the mast. At least his trousers had been left in place for the moment. Fox still wasn't sure which of his recent misdeeds had been discovered by the angry captain. He forgot his vow to not call further attention to himself as he heard the screams of panic coming from behind him. He looked around to see his captain pulling Duane Barry from his hiding place. Throwing caution to the wind, Mulder jumped down from the bulkhead and ran to help his screaming friend. "Captain, no! You're scaring him!" Mulder pulled the frantic Duane from his captain's arms. The man immediately huddled against Mulder's chest. "Don't take Duane Barry! Don't take Duane Barry! Don't take Duane Barry!" Mulder patted the trembling man's back as if he were the younger of the two. "Please sir, don't hurt him. It's all my fault. He followed me here. If anyone deserves to be punished for this, it should be me." "Fox, I'm not going to punish anyone for this, especially you. I won't abide stowaways on this ship. I just want that man to come out of hiding and do hid part of the work with the rest of the crew. And I most particularly," the captain looked pointedly at his distressed cabin boy. "Want him to have his own rations so that you don't give him yours." "Oh." "Oh indeed!" The captain lay one big hand on Duane's shoulder, gently pulling him away from Fox. "Now Mr. Barry, we are in need of a new cook's helper. I would like you to assume those responsibilities until we reach our destination. Is that agreeable with you?" Duane looked at the captain for a long moment, he then turned to where Mulder was nodding at him encouragingly. "All . . .all right, Duane Barry will help the cook." "Good. Mr. Langly will you please show Mr. Barry below. Fox, you can get your nose back against that mast. I don't recall giving you permission to move." "Yes, sir." Mulder jumped back up on the bulkhead, giving Duane one more smile before sticking his nose against the rough wooden post. What seemed a lifetime later to the bored cabin boy, he felt his captain walk up behind him, looping a very familiar rope around his waist. "Come on, brat, time for a tour of the deck." * * * Reggie blew a perfect smoke ring up into the night sky. "Want some company?" "I thought you'd be busy entertaining the brat." "Fox and Chester are attempting to get Duane calmed down for the night. He still throws up every time I get near him." "Nice to know the Bald Terror still have what it takes to scare the pants off the peasants." "Very funny, Reggie. What were you thinking about up here by yourself?" "You." "Oh please tell me you weren't reminiscing about tanning my hide again." Reggie chuckled, "Well that was a big part to your childhood, Walter. You were just as much trouble for me as your brat is for you." "If I didn't know better, Reggie, I'd think you were enjoying watching me try to deal with that boy. What brought on this particular bout of fond memories?" "The stowaway and watching Fox scramble up on that bulkhead and put his nose against the mast. I thought you were going to wear a hole in that thing before you finally straightened out." "Is my entire wayward youth going to be dragged out before me? again this evening?" "You're the one who brought that boy home with you. It's not my fault that he reminds me of you." "It would be fine if your memories of me were triggered by his deep compassion, or that beautiful, brilliant mind of his or even those devastating good looks, but no, they're always about his astonishing skill at getting into trouble." "Sorry, Walter, the way that it is, is the way that it is. Remember the incident with that other stowaway?" "Yes," Skinner groaned. "I don't suppose we could just forget about that?" "Hardly! It's not every day that a mere cabin boy decides to save a drunk from some street thugs, secrets him abroad his captain's pirate ship, only to learn the next morning that he has kidnaped the commander of the King's Royal Guard." "I kidnap him!" "That's not what he said. Mad as a hornet and twice as mean. I thought we'd never get him back on shore where he belonged. At least without getting the whole lot of us hanged for it." "As I recall, he left calmly enough." "Yes, after I allowed him to watch me strap you while you rode that barrel on deck. I've never seen anybody get that thing rocking like you did that day. I swear that barrel jumped a foot off deck every time you got a lick of leather on your bare butt." "That strap damn well hurt!" "I had to make it count. When he was finally satisfied that you had been properly punished, he went peacefully back to shore. I was worried they would come after us but I guess he wasn't willing to admit to his commanding officer that he had gotten dead drunk and been captured by pirates. That sort of thing probably doesn't lead to a quick promotion." "I suppose not. I think that's all the story telling I can take for one night. I'm going below to console my injured cabin boy. Mean old Captain Purdue set fire to his tail again today." "Only because soft old Captain Skinner is too enamored of him to do his duty." "Not true. But I must admit I do like you being the bad one instead of me. Makes the boy so appreciative of his own captain." Reggie snorted, "Always glad to help, Walter. Go on with you, I wouldn't want Fox to have delay in showing you the depth of his gratitude." Skinner gave a little bow, grinning from ear to ear. "Nor would I, Captain Purdue." * * * Tom Colton was furious. They had encountered a storm soon after weighing anchor and it had blown them seriously off course. It would take them another night to catch up to the Chauve Terreur or it's irritating cabin boy. "How goes it, Mr. Colton?" Tom looked around to see his arrogant captain standing behind him, his eyes filled with suspicion. "We should overtake the Chauve Terreur by sunrise." "That's excellent news, Mr. Colton. Is Blevins still alive down in the hole?" "Yes sir. I had Hairless Pete take him bread and water this morning. He tells me the man should make it a few more days." "Captain Skinner will be most pleased to welcome Mr. Blevins aboard his ship, and I'm certain our Fox will also be overjoyed to see him once more as well. The merchant should be most useful in helping me reclaim my property." "Your property, sir?" "Blevins owes me a bounty. I plan to claim the cabin boy in lieu of gold." Colton ground his teeth together. Why did everybody always want that damned cabin boy. Of course, Roche wouldn't be the adoring master that Skinner had turned out to be. Maybe it would be fun to watch Fox suffer under Gentleman John's heavy hand for a little while. Then, of course, Tom would kill the both of them. "I'll proceed with all possible haste, Gentleman John." "You're a good man, Mr. Colton." * * * Captain Skinner ran a hand over the soft skin of his cabin boy's long, sleek back. He smiled as he heard a contented sigh. The young man under his caressing hands had come to mean more to him than his own life, and he was most anxious to get him back to the relative safety of their island fortress. "What are you thinking about, Fox?" "I was just wondering what I ever did to end up here with you. I never expected to find this much happiness. If I had Samantha back, my life would be perfect. It scares me." The captain placed a soft kiss behind Fox's ear, his hand still rubbing small circles on his back, "Scares you? In what way?" "It would hurt so much to lose this now. To go back to the way it was before. I've had so many people treat me kindly in my life but nothing like what you . . ." "It seems to me that you're the one who has shown the most kindness to his fellow man, Fox." "No. I've always wanted to help others but I had so little myself that it just wasn't possible to do much for anyone else. I've barely kept my sister and myself alive all these years. And . . .and she could be dead now for all I know." "Your sister isn't dead, Fox. I know it as surely as I know I love you. As surely as I know you'll never be hurt by the loss of that love because I'll never let you go." "I hope you're right about . . ." The door slammed open so hard it knocked two books off the desk that stood a few feet away. The captain scrambled to pull the blanket up over his naked cabin boy as he scowled at the man standing in the doorway. "I hope you have a good explanation for this intrusion, Mr. Langly." "Yes sir! The Severed Heart approached under cover of fog and is now only a few yards off our bow!" Skinner scrambled from his bed, his feet hitting the floor just as the first cannon ball reached the deck above. The ship rocked under the impact, almost throwing the captain to the floor. "You stay here, Fox!" He turned to see his cabin boy just finish pulling on his trousers. He slammed the young man up against the wall, his considerable height and weight pushing against the lesser body. "Did you not hear me, brat? I ordered you to stay in this cabin!" "I . . .I heard you, sir." "Good!" The captain turned as another blast sounded from above. "Don't let me catch you on that deck!" "You won't catch me, captain." Mulder mumbled to the captain's retreating back as he searched for the dagger Frohike had given him. Everything is the cabin was now lying on the floor and it was impossible to find anything. Mulder almost sobbed in frustration. The ship was now taking a constant barrage of heavy cannon fire, and Mulder wondered just how long the pirate ship could withstand such abuse. "Don't you go up on that deck, angel." "Chester, get out of my way! Did the captain send you down here? I have to go up and watch his back!" "It wasn't the captain who sent me. Chester Bonaparte thinks it is too dangerous for angels today." "Ches-ter." Mulder warned as he tried to slip past the little boy. "Let him go, Chester." "Chester Bonaparte thinks it is too dangerous, Stubby." Mulder turned to see the ghostly seaman leaning against the captain's desk, calmly smoking on that old teakwood pipe of his. He turned back to his young companion. "You can see Stubby?" "Yes, Chester Bonaparte can see him. Unfortunately." Chester frowned at the apparition. "He'll be no good to anyone if the captain dies, Chester." "Dies!" Mulder scrambled around the surprised younger man, his feet hardly touching the stairs as he bolted up to the deck. A deck that was in chaos. Large holes had been blasted into the wooden sides surrounding the deck and water was pouring in as the ship rocked and bucked under the attack. The Chauve Terreur was returning fire but Mulder feared it would be too little too late. He ran to the railing closest to the position of the Severed Heart, shocked to see that the ship was almost upon them and closing fast. They would be boarded at any moment. Fox knew that the first thing Gentleman John was likely to do was seek out Captain Skinner and put a blade through his hear. "Over my dead body!" The cabin boy swore as jumped into the sea below, his dagger held firmly between his teeth. For once, the thought of sharks never crossed his mind. He was a strong swimmer and it took him only minutes to make it to the other ship. He grabbed onto a dangling rope that had fallen from the deck above, and began to stealthily climb up the side of the enemy ship. John Byers lowered his spyglass, "They seem to have a man overboard, sir." Skinner grabbed the glass, training it on the desperate figure that was trying to climb back into the ship. "Crazy fool! He's sure to be hit by our next cannon ball if he doesn't . . .Shit! Hold your fire! Hold the cannon! Hold your Fire!" "Captain, have you gone mad?" Byers made a grab for his agitated captain. "They're almost upon us! Now isn't the time to withdraw our defense!" "It's Fox! That idiot over the side isn't just any idiot, it's my cabin boy. Oh, please no. I don't know . . . how did he . . .I'm going after him!" The captain began to strip off his coat when he was stopped by a strong arm on his shoulder. He looked up to see Reggie Purdue staring straight into his eyes. "No, Walter. Stubby told me the boy has a destiny to fulfill. You have to leave him to it." "Stubby? Who the hell is Stubby, old man? Let me go. Fox is climbing on board the Severed Heart! He'll be killed! I have to . . ." "You have to let the boy do this, Walter." Mulder slipped over the side of the ship and into hell. The pirates were in a murderous frenzy, all but slashing away at each other in their lust to spill the blood of the other crew. The cabin boy slithered around the side of the ship, keeping his back to the railing. He ducked down behind some barrels of rum, his attention caught by Gentleman John and Tom Colton arguing fiercely. "You play a dangerous game with me, Colton. I'll stop at nothing to get that cabin boy." "I'm so sick of everyone wanting that damned cabin boy!" Colton whisked a saber from his side but before he could bring it to bear on the pirate captain, he stopped, clutching his belly, a look of total surprise on his face. As he fell away, Gentleman John pulled the smoking pistol from beneath his coat, the smile on his face cold and evil. "As I said, Tom, I'll stop at nothing to get what I deserve." The Severed Heart was almost upon the other ship now, Fox could see his captain plainly from where he was secreted behind the rum barrels. It was obvious from the expression on his face that his captain knew exactly where his cabin boy had gotten off to this time. "How does he do that?" Mulder whispered to himself as he prepared to confront the most evil of pirate captains, a cold- blooded murderer of men and black-hearted violator of children, Gentleman John Roche. Heavy gangplanks had now been thrown up between the two ships and crewmen from both sides occupied the precarious perch, their swords engaged in bloody battle. The Chauve Terreur was listing badly, have sustained much more damaged than the Severed Heart. Mulder saw his captain trying to fight his way across the planks, eager to get to his wayward cabin boy. Mulder carefully concealed his dagger in the back of his pants, then brought his arms out in front of his body in a sign of submission as he approached the pirate captain from behind. "Gentleman John." The man turned with a start, his mouth dropping open in shock as he saw just who was now standing on the deck of his ship. "How did you get here, boy?" "I jumped over the ship and swam. I want to give myself up to you in exchange for the safety of the Chauve Terreur." Roche threw back his head and laughed madly. "You are out of your mind, boy. No wonder Captain Skinner is so careless with your safety." "He isn't careless. I'm sneaky." "Not anymore you aren't. You belong to me now, boy." Roche gabbed the cabin boy by his shoulders, his bony hands digging into the soft skin. He pulled Mulder toward him and pasted his mouth over the lush lips on his new treasure. Mulder almost gagged as the captain's tongue worked its way into his mouth. He reached slowly behind him, grasping the dagger and bringing it around to bury into the chest of man who would dare to take him from his captain. Gentleman John gasped in agony as the blade slipped easily into his heart. A spray of blood burst from his chest, hot drops covering the cabin boy as he stumbled back away from the mortally wounded man. With his last breath Roche raised his pistol, aiming at the retreating cabin boy. He never felt the sword that severed him neatly in half. Mulder tripped over a loose rope, falling hard on his butt as the pistol discharged where his head had just been. He looked up and into the eyes of his furious captain. "I thought I told you to stay in the cabin!" Before Mulder could come up with an appropriate answer, the captain was attacked by one of Roche's crewmen. The big man turned and began to help his crew defeat their attackers. The cabin boy scrambled around looking for the dagger he had dropped. He looked up just in time to see Mr. Blevins standing in front of him, his eyes filled with madness, a cutlass clutched in his hand. "You! This is all your fault. I should never have bought you from that auction. Pretty! Too pretty for a counting house. I should have known you'd be nothing but trouble. My father-in-law tried to warm me but I wouldn't listen. All I could see was your beauty and I wanted you." Blevins had been slowly advancing as he spoke, forcing the wide- eyed cabin boy to retreat until he was backed up tight against the bulkhead. Mulder tried to make a desperate dive to his left but it was too late, he felt the sword go deep into his body. Blevins' insane laughter the last thing he heard. Captain Skinner screamed, quickly dispatching his latest adversary as he saw Blevins advancing on Fox. It took him only three steps to reach his cabin boy but he wasn't quick enough. He saw the blade cut into Mulder's body as the young man crumpled to the deck. He was vaguely aware of Scott Blevins turning toward him, sword lifted high, but one swift swipe of his own blade sent the man's head rolling across the deck to fall into the bloody water below. The captain picked up his blood soaked cabin boy, moving like a man in a dream. He was stopped by Reggie Purdue's hand on his shoulder. "This way, Walter. The Chauve Terreur has earned her rest at the bottom of the sea. This ship should last long enough to get us back to the island. Let's go below and see if we can find somewhere clean enough to lay Fox down." Skinner nodded, his eyes glassy and unfocused. "I think he's already dead, Reggie." Captain Purdue pried the cabin boy a little way out of his captain's arms, his long fingers going to the young man's throat. He was relieved to feel a strong pulse. "One thing you need to learn about brats, Walter, they're near impossible to get rid of. Your boy is still alive and should remain so if you will allow us to go below to tend that wounds." Skinner nodded again, a bit of color returning to his face. He meekly followed his former captain down the steps and into Gentleman John's private cabin. It was a subdued crew who watched the Chauve Terreur make its final voyage to the bottom of the sea. As was the captain's order, the entire surviving crew of the Severed Heart was loaded onto dinghies and set adrift. It would seem the captain's mercy had drained away along with his cabin boy's blood. Yet all agreed that the fate couldn't have befallen a more dastardly lot of men as the pirates sailing with Gentleman John Roche. A thorough scrubbing and a few minor repairs were made to the confiscated ship. As long as they took their time and didn't encounter any storms they should be able to limp back to Sauve L'ile before the Severed Heart joined her sister ship in the ocean's depths. It would be a slow, difficult voyage for both crew and ship. * * * Captain Skinner sat by the side of his cabin boy through the long night as pain and fever waged a war within the slender young body. The blade had entered just below the rib cage. It was the opinion of the ships doctor, Daniel Pendrel, that there had been no damage to internal organs. Skinner prayed that the young doctor was correct in his assessment. "Mr. Wiggins, you have to get up now! The dead wagon is coming! You have to get up, please!" Mulder sobbed deep in his chest, tears streaming down his face. "They'll take you away and I'll be all alone." "Sh-h-h-h, Fox. Don't cry, my love. You'll never be alone again, I promise." Mulder opened glassy, fever-bright eyes, "I had to give Red Willie the last of my bread. He hadn't eaten for such a long time, I was worried about him." "That's good, Fox," Skinner tried to keep his voice soft around the lump in his throat. "I wish Willie wouldn't hit me so hard. It makes it so hard to lift the heavy bundles of wool when my ribs are so sore." "I . . .I know, sweetheart. He won't hit you anymore. You need to get some rest now." "Lucy died today." That stopped Skinner in mid breath, "Fox, this is all a dream. None of this is real. You need to get some sleep now." "They found her body in the snow." Skinner took a wet cloth, wiping the sweat and tears from his cabin boy's flushed face. "She was the same age as Samantha. I wish I could have put her in the orphanage too. I work as many hours as I can but I just can't earn enough money for two and I won't steal like Red Willie. I don't blame him though. I tried to find someone to take Lucy in but she was so little, they all thought she wouldn't be able to work but I think she would have done fine." "I'm sure she would have been a good worker, Fox. Please, it wasn't your fault, sweetheart. You did all you could." "I tried," a heart-wrenching sob broke loose once more. "I tried to take care of her but she died while I was at the woolen house. She got too cold in the alley." Skinner carefully lay down beside Fox, taking him into his arms. "Just sleep now, Fox. I'm here with you." They both dozed for short time before Skinner was once again awakened as Fox sat straight up in bed. Skinner gently untangled himself from the broiling hot man, bringing a bowl cool water to bath his face and body. As he gently pulled at the blankets, the cabin boy began to struggle. "No! Don't take my cloths off. There are so many people here! Please don't . . .get away from me. I'm not an animal to be sold at auction like this! Stop!" The captain couldn't contain his own tears as he watched his cabin boy relive the indentured servant auction that had placed him in the hands of Blevins. The fat merchant hadn't been content to just buy the poor boy, he had insisted that Fox be stripped for inspection first. Skinner wished he could kill the vile man all over again. When Fox was once again calmed and dozing, the captain lay his head on the bed, his hand firmly gripping Mulder's. "Walter, you've got to get some sleep. You can't keep sitting here day after day like this." It had been three days since they had been attacked by the Severed Heart. Three days of deliriously high fever for the cabin boy and constant worry for his captain. "I can't leave him, Reggie. He's reliving his whole damned miserable life. He needs me here with him." Reggie sighed heavily but left to have Duane Barry bring a tray of food for the stubborn pirate captain. "Will Fox be all right, Captain Skinner?" The captain turned to where the timid man stood in the doorway bearing his heavily laden tray. "I think he will, Duane, if we could just get this fever to break." The captain's eyebrows rose on his head as Duane practically threw down the tray as he bolted out the door. "What the hell did I say to scare that boy this time?" The captain shook his head in exasperation as he once more lay it down by his cabin boy's smoldering body. He was awaked a few minutes later by an insistent tug on his sleeve. "Wake up, sir. Duane Barry has something to help Fox. Please you have to wake up now." Skinner lifted his head groggily, "What is it, Duane? Has something happened?" "Duane Barry brought medicine for Fox. Duane Barry used this on the horses lots of time. It's good medicine. It will help Fox." The captain looked at the items the man held in his hands. A tin containing a vile smelling slave and a small bag of dried leaves. "What is this stuff, Duane?" "Medicine. For Fox." Skinner looked up, ready to tell the man he couldn't chance using an unknown treatment on his precious cabin boy, when he saw the look in Duane Barry's eyes. The man believed whole heartedly in these remedies. Skinner sighed. What was there to lose. If something didn't change soon he was going to lose Fox. "All right, Duane. What do I need to do?" Duane smiled broadly as he ran from the room to get what they would need. He came back with a stack of clean linens and a pot of boiling water which he placed over the open flame of the lamp. Duane then proceeded to carefully crush some of the dried leaves into another bowl with some of the water until they made a thick, pungent paste. This he spread a layer of the hot mixture onto a piece of the linen. "You'd best hold Fox down, Captain Skinner. He won't like Duane Barry's treatment none but it will make him better." Skinner swallowed hard as he crawled in behind his limp cabin boy, situating Fox between his spread legs and wrapping his arms tightly around the slender body, the young man silky hair resting under his chin. He nodded at Duane. As the man slapped the steaming poultice on the wound Mulder nearly came off the bed, captain or no captain. Skinner held on tight, tears forming in his eyes as Fox cried out in agony. "Duane are you sure about this?" "Duane Barry's sure, sir. Just hold him tight. It will be better soon." For the next hour, the minute one poultice cooled another was put on the wound to take its place. At first, Mulder screamed with each new application, fighting the loving hands that held him so tightly. As the treatment continued, and exhaustion overcame him, Mulder would merely flinch at each new application, having little strength left to voice his distress. "That should do it." Duane finally proclaimed. Captain Skinner felt as thought he would cry with relief. Duane smeared some of his salve on the red, raw area, bandaging it tightly. Duane pulled a small bag from his pocket, mixing the white powder in a cup of water. "He won't like this much. It's willow bark. Good for fever but has a bitter taste." Skinner tightened his hold but the cabin boy was so worn out by this point, he meekly allowed the evil brew to be poured down his throat. Skinner smiled his gratitude as Duane quietly left the cabin. The captain didn't even bother to move. He just settled his cabin boy more securely against his chest, both of them asleep in minutes. He woke sometime later to find himself drenched in perspiration. "Frohike!" The little man came running, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What is it, sir? Has something happened to Fox?" "No! The fever's broken. Help me get him cleaned up and back in bed." The captain couldn't contain the happy tears that ran freely down his face. "I think he's going to be all right now, Melvin." "I think you're right, sir." Frohike smiled widely as he dug in the sea chest for clean bedding and clothing for the two men. * * * "I don't wanna' stay in bed! You've made me stay in this old bed for weeks! I wanna' climb up in the crow's nest so I can see the island first." Skinner ran a hand over his face, "The only thing you're going to see is the rug on the floor while you're laying over my knee, brat." "You said you wouldn't spank me cause I've been sick," Mulder pouted, batting long, dark lashes at his exasperated captain. "Well I certainly didn't make any such foolish promises." Mulder's eyes widened as he glanced up at Reggie Purdue where he stood glaring at him from the open cabin door. "You want to test me, little boy?" "Uh . . .no, sir." "That's what I thought." Suddenly a loud shout drifted from above, "Land ho!" Mulder started to sit up in bed, only to be pushed back down by a firm hand in the middle of his chest. "I said no!" "But . . .we're home!" Mulder pleaded as tears formed in his wide, hazel eyes. "Shit!" Skinner snarled as he wrapped Fox in a blanket and lifted him up into his arms. "You're going to be the death of me, boy." "Put me down! I can walk by myself! I'm a grown man of twenty- three and I'm perfectly capable of . . ." "Spoiled rotten," Reggie proclaimed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as the three of them left the captain's cabin. It took only a few minutes for Captain Skinner to make it up to the deck with his mutinous bundle. "Hold still, brat, before you cause me to drop you. And I don't want to hear one word about that crow's nest. Just be happy you're up here on deck." When they reached the rail at the bow of the ship, Skinner placed his cabin boy on his feet. He smiled as Fox leaned his head back, enjoying the feel of the sun on his face and the wind through his hair. "Will they recognize the ship? Will they think we're the Severed Heart?" "No, brat," Skinner pointed up to where his flag flew from the top mast. "They'll know we're home." "Home." Mulder sighed. "Yes, my love," his captain agreed. "Home at last." The End Chapter 9 END 4/4