Other Fan Fiction ❯ The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything ❯ Pirate & Co. ( Chapter 2 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Chapter 2

“So…uh…how does one go about hiring an entirely new crew after all the old guys have been fired?” Benji asked, looking around with a slight frown at the Cubans scurrying around the port. His lip curled in distaste as he studied the workmen. “I mean, they're all so…efficient. There's no compatibility here!”

Miguel rolled his eyes. “Benji, you're trying to find someone who will let you boss him around, not someone you can date.”

“Well, fine, then. What's your idea?”

Miguel thought about it a moment, then abruptly reached out and caught the arm of the next man who passed. “The guy—who was carrying a rather large and weighty-looking box—stopped and stared at him.

“Hmm…okay, you're hired,” Miguel decided.

“…Um?” the guy said helpfully.

“Yes, yes, I know, you're very welcome,” Miguel said modestly. “Be back here in two hours so we can take you to the ship.”

“Sir, I…have a job.”

“Well, go on, then. You don't have all that much time to listen to him bluster when you quit. Better get to it!”

The guy spluttered. “But…I…”

“Yes?” Miguel asked sweetly, batting his eyelashes.

The guy went to quit his job.

Miguel turned back to Benji, who was staring at him. “Yes?” he asked again.

“Uh…nothing,” Benji said. “I just think I'll leave the hiring to you, is all. Let's…uh…get to it, shall we?”

XXX

“And here I thought yours were the lowest standards society could offer,” Erik said, tossing back another shot of whiskey and staring at the long line of desperados who had lined up to apply for the esteemed job of deckhand.

Miguel sighed and called in a reluctant and tired voice, “Smelly Brent McClaskey.”

A rather large and bearded man with a beer in hand who definitely lived up to his name stepped forward. “That's me.”

Benji stood and stared hard at him. “Mr. Smelly…do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death?”

Smelly Brent stared stupidly at him. “Ah-duh…”

“…NEXT!”

“Mr. Tookie Clothespin!” Miguel announced, and the man stepped forward.

“Excuse me, sirs, but does the job involve pie?”

“…No.”

Tookie Clothespin looked disappointed and left.

“Sheisty McSheisterson!”

“Okay, so first thing's first, sirs. Ya gotta believe me, see, `cause no matter what anyone tells you, they was both dead when I found `em.”

“NEXT!”

“Squeegee Beckenheim!”

“I just want you to know, sirs, that I will happily take a bullet for any one of you. I shall defend you with my very life and even the lives of those around me, if necessary.”

“That's…very comforting, Squeegee,” Benji said nervously. “Um…next?”

“Jim-Bob McMelonhopper!”

Benji and Miguel studied the tall, handsome man and at the same time said appreciatively, “You're hired.”

“Rox the Danger-Major!”

“Oh, I like the sound of that,” Benji whispered.

Then a large black dog in a studded collar stepped forward and emitted a low growl.

“Uh…you're hired…you can…uh…guard the rum…” Benji informed her.

The dog walked over to stand next to Jim-Bob.

“Rin Supernova!”

A small girl came forward, dragging a cannon. “Hi!” she said chipperly. “I brought the mandatory cannon! Nice cannon! Go boom!”

“Uh…no one said you needed a cannon…” Erik said.

She looked puzzled. “But I thought the French Foreign Legion liked cannons…”

“…We're in Cuba!”

“…But that's not cool…Cuba isn't French…”

“And that…disappoints you?”

“Well, it's just…they don't sing songs about the Spanish Foreign Legion! Not ever!”

Benji and Miguel looked at each other. “Well, I'm sold,” Miguel said.

“You're hired,” Benji told Rin, who immediately began to struggle to bring her cannon to the other side of the room.

“OH, YEAH! WHAT NOW, BOOM! WHAT NOW?” she shouted in triumph upon reaching her goal.

Benji raised an eyebrow, but did not comment as Miguel bellowed, “JIRO! …Er…JUST JIRO!”

“No, no, no, sirs, it's said like this…” Throwing his hands up in a jazz-hands movement, he whispered, “Just Jiro.”

“…Okay. What do you do, Jiro?”

“I'm a chaplain. And…” Looking over, Jiro caught Erik's eye with a steady gaze. “Well, I do other…less pure things, as well.”

Erik promptly fell out of his chair.

Benji grinned. “You're hired.”

Miguel clapped his hands with childish delight. “Yay! We have a crew! Let's go to the ship!”

Then, as they were all leaving, he leaned over and murmured sidelong to Benji, “Mean, mean, mean.”

Benji grinned. “I know.”

XXX

“…And these are the thingies that make the ship go—” Benji told the guys he referred to as The Rookies, gesturing expansively.

“The sails,” Miguel coughed.

“—And this is the thingy that keeps those thingies from flying away,” Benji went on, blithely ignoring the redhead.

“The mast,” Miguel said.

“This is the thing we use to steer the ship.”

“The helm.”

“That's the galley/bar, we're standing on the deck…”

“The crow's nest is up!” Miguel chirped idly. “It's mine!”

“And that is…erm…Miguel?”

Miguel blinked. “It's…uh…”

“The…plank?” Jim-Bob offered helpfully.

“Pray tell, what is this wonderful contraption you call the plank?”

“It's an execution device where you tie up captives and force them off a wooden plank. Then you sail away, leaving them no hope of rescue.”

Benji looked thoughtfully over at Erik. “Really…”

“We thought it was a diving board,” Miguel said, studying the plank and poking it.

“The next part of the tour leads us to the cabins. The captain's quarters….”

“Where me and Benji sleep!”

“The infirmary…”

Erik poked his head out the infirmary door. “Stay away from my needles!” Slam.

Benji scowled and hung a sign on the door. The place where legends die.

“But Benji, you're not a—”

“Miguel, shush!”

Miguel pouted and paid no heed. “…And that leaves us with the BRIG!”

Dun dun dun.

“What was that…?”

“Erm…the Brig.”

Dun dun dun!

“No, that noise…”

“I dunno…”

“Brig?”

Dun dun dun.

Benji giggled. “Br—”

Dun—

“Ha! That's fun!”

“ANYWAYS! You do not want to go in there.”

“Can't do it.”

“Not today.”

Jiro tilted his head and crossed his arms. “What's…in there? I hope it's not anything kinky…”

“Kinky!” Rin yelled, waking from a dream before muttering something undecipherable and drifting off again.

“Do you want to see…?”

“Benji…don't do it!”

“SILENCE, MIGUEL!”

“Freak…”

“Behind these doors stands a rabid monster, gentlemen! Mwahahahahaha!”

“You can't be that horrible, Benny….they've only just gotten here!”

“YOU CANNOT STOP THIS, MIGUEL! DO NOT TRY! COME, ALL OF YOU! FOLLOW ME TO YOUR DOOM!”

Jim-Bob was the only one to comment, Rin being asleep and Jiro cleaning his nails with a knife. “Freaks…”

Benji pulled back the door, a pair of purple eyes glowed in the distance, and then…

“CUUUUUUUTE PEEEEOPLE!!!”

“EVERYONE STAND BACK! IT'S RABID!”

…Jim-Bob was being strangled by…something.

Jiro screwed up his face. “Dear God, what is that thing?!”

Benji shrugged. “I dunno. The test results haven't come back from Florin yet. We took it on as a hired stowaway and then it decided to be rabidly in love with the captain, which is just…weird. We call it Berkleus Abnormalus. Berkley for short.”

“Hugglemuffins!” Berkley shrieked as Jim-Bob screamed in horror in reaction to the arms squeezing him to death.

“It seems to speak in code, and we have yet to decipher its language,” Benji remarked.

“Yes, we have. It's talking to you, Ben—”

“That's enough, Miguel.”

“But it's—”

“Who are you? Are you lost, little boy?”

“Unbelievable…”

And then Jim-Bob fled screaming from the ship and so, sadly, did not make the cut.

XXX

“You! Move the thing! And…and that other thing “

“But…cap'n, if we d that, then…”

“I SAID MOVE THE THING!”

“Okay….if you say so…”

“…Wait…what's going on? Why are we turning? RIN, WHY ARE WE TURNING?”

Miguel watched with a raised eyebrow as Benji frantically tried to get the ship back on course via his frantically barked orders. In the end, Rin threw up her hands in disgust and Miguel came over to take the helm, skillfully maneuvering it, and minutes later, the wind had caught the sails and begun to push the Arch Angel in the right direction.

“…How did you do that?”

Miguel chuckled and turned to drape his arms loosely around Benji's neck, smiling slightly as Benji's arms came immediately around his waist. “When you're in love with a pirate you learn a thing or two about ships. Besides—it's just turning a wheel. It's not difficult.”

Benji decided to ignore that. “So tell me…this pirate captain you're so in love with….how deep in love are you?”

The redhead pretended to give it some thought. “About as deep as it gets, I suppose.”

“And…do I know him?”

“I believe you're quite well acquainted, actually.”

“…If you're talking about anyone else but me I'm gonna kill you.”

Miguel burst out laughing, pulling his lover into a kiss. It managed to go uninterrupted for quite come time before…

“CUDDLE-BUNNY!”

“OH, MY GOD, IT'S ALIVE!!! WHO LET IT OUT OF ITS CAGE?! HEEELP MEEE!”

XXX

“…Do these things happen often on this ship?” Jiro asked, watching as Benji was glomped, kissed, and groped by the rabid Berkley-thing.

Erik chuckled, straightening after placing the last sack on top of the pile in front of him. “Most every day. You learn to live with the screaming and the cursing…and the stench, too, though it may not seem like it at the moment.”

Jiro laughed, extending his hand for Erik to shake. “I don't think we've been properly introduced in all the rush. “I'm Jiro.”

“Erik. Hand me that sack of flour, will you?”

No reply.

Erik blinked and looked up from securing the top of a barrel of rum, only to find Jiro staring intently at him. “…Jiro?”

“Yes, Erik?”

“Hand me that sack, will you?”

Jiro smiled, although his gaze didn't waver as he did as requested.

Erik's face was now lightly flushed and he turned quickly back to his work. “Th-thank you.”

The chaplain smiled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You're welcome.”

“So, anyway, as I was saying…” Erik said, speaking quickly. “You get used to this place faster than you think. You even start to love it a little, after a while, and—”

The doctor was interrupted, however, when an empty rum bottle fell with a loud thunk onto Jiro's hand. The think was followed by a splash as Rin fell in a drunken stupor from her perch above them into the water.

Jiro rubbed his hand ruefully. “You get used to that, too, I suppose?”

Erik sighed tiredly. “Hand me that rope, will you?”

XXX

Cuban Shoreline

Hiei sighed mournfully as he watched the goings-on of the Arch Angel from the distance. “I can't believe I let Benji be a captain in my fleet. What was I thinking?”

“You were thinking he's a good friend who always tried to protect us and you thought you would throw him a line.”

“Well…I want my line back! I want to break the line! I want to force-feed him the line!”

Kurama chuckled and slid his arms around Hiei's waist, dropping a kiss onto his neck. “Forget about them.”

“One of his crew just fell overboard!”

“Hiei…”

“And they're not even stopping for her!”

“Hiei!”

“BENJI, YOU ARE FIRED!!!”

XXX

Li: …Cut… cradles a bottle of whiskey

Adara: Where'd she get that…?

Ava: Booze Anonymous.

Adara: Aren't they supposed to…you know…prevent that?

Li: slurs while speaking to a cactus Nay…dis isn't special ship linament…

Ava: Do you want to tell her?

Cactus: Ack, cravens!

Li: I demand that you all stop spinning! Cease! turns green I MUNNA BLOW CHUNKS! flees

Adara: Eww…

Ava: Where's Suzuka when you need him?

Li: in the distance why is it always carrots? I didn't even eat carrots…

Suzuka: Aww, man…now I'm gonna have to clean the dirt again…

Adara: She makes you clean the dirt?

Suzuka: Only every other day.

Ava: Why?

Suzuka: Li says clean dirt is happy dirt.

Li: Suzuka?

Suzuka: Yeah, Li?

Li: Why aren't you cleaning the dirt?

Suzuka: Eep! goes to clean

Li: And…ACTION!

XXX

“Well, Benji, so howsabout I make you a celebratory pie! I mean, after all, your first boat—”

“Ship.”

“Whatever. We still need something to celebrate this momentous occasion. Now, where's the kitchen?”

“Erm…Miguel?”

“Left?”

“You might not want to…”

“Oh, dear sweet Lord baby Jesus!”

“…Go in there…”

Miguel was perfectly justified in swearing. What he saw, from a chef's viewpoint, was nothing short of disturbing. The galley looked like it was swept up by a tornado. It had about twenty teething toddlers (say that three times fast) set loose inside it, and it had been the site for a smorgasbord of kegger parties.

“Dare I see the actual kitchen?”

“Please don't have a heart attack…”

“I'll try to contain myself,” Miguel said, reaching out to push back the cobweb-covered door.

He looked inside and let out a little whimper of pain.

“Aww…it's okay, Miguel. We can fix it. I promise.”

“Benji…WHAT IS THAT?” Miguel asked, pointing to a fuzzy, glowing green glob that crawled out from under the fridge.

“Look away, Miguel! It's too horrible!” Benji pleaded, rushing him from the kitchen.

“Waaahhh!”

XXX

Erik was perplexed.

Miguel was sobbing.

And Benji was trying his best to explain.

“So you see, the Arch Angel used to be the SS Smelly Bob. I bought it half priced from the captain's son.”

Miguel sniffled. “So…how'd he die?”

“Die? No, he went to Vegas!”

“What I don't understand is why the infirmary is brand new,” Erik mused.

“Because no one uses the infirmary, and for these reasons three: too drunk, too stupid, or too dead.” Benji nodded.

Miguel sighed. “So…what're we gonna do, Benny?”

“I told you, Miguel! I'm gonna fix it!” Benji stated impressively.

“How are you gonna do that, Ben?” Erik asked.

“Pirate…” Benji smirked.

XXX

The bank teller was having a rather rotten day. Actually, he was having a rather rotten week. Year. Decade. Hell, a rather rotten life! His job was boring, he had no friends, he couldn't get a girl unless he paid her and maybe not then, his dog had dropped dead this morning, his cat had run off and his hamster wouldn't stop biting him.

Yep, the bank teller told himself, he was pretty sure his life couldn't get any worse.

And then he stubbed his toe on the side of his desk, stapled a paper to one of his fingers, hit his head on a shelf, dropped a stack of freshly-organized files, and allowed a man named Miguel Sanchez to enter his bank.

XXX

It started with the words, “Can I help you?” and ended with the bank teller guarding an empty safe.

The events occurred as follows:

A small red-haired man walked into the bank with three people behind him. He walked up to the desk and said politely, “Good morning.”

“Good morning. How can I help you?”

“I need money.”

“How much?” the teller asked boredly.

The red-headed man thought about it. “All of it.”

“Erm…does it all belong to you?”

“No.”

“Then why would I give it to you?”

The redhead gestured to the white-haired man standing behind him. “`Cause he has a gun and we need the money to get the green fuzzy thing out of my kitchen.” Then, suddenly, his little face turned serious, maybe even a little angry. He shook his finger at the teller and stamped his foot. “But if you think we're gonna tell you our secret plan to pillage and pilfer everything of value in this town, you're wrong!”

The teller stared at him, his face uncomprehending, and Miguel rolled his eyes.

“Oh, for the love of—AH-CHOO!”

He sneezed once, twice, three times, and the teller's eyes became glazed over with adoration.

By the time he came to, the redhead, his friends, and the entire contents of the safe were gone.

XXX

“All right, ye slimy mangy cur…” Benji whispered threateningly while loading his pistol with a new round.

Miguel snickered.

“What are you laughing at?”

The redhead giggled into his hands and looked up with twinkling eyes. “…Well, I'm just reacting naturally. You act tough. I laugh.”

Benji glared and pointed a finger at his lover. “Oh, you are so lucky you're cute.”

“And that I am the lover of an incredibly handsome pirate.”

“Ya know, I'm really starting to think you're talking about another guy when you do that.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Oh, please, Miguel. You? Cheat on me? Ha!”

“Full of ourselves much?”

“Yes, we are!”

“Excuse me! Could we get back to the point, please?” The old man whom the group had been robbing shouted at them and waved his cane. “The whole bit is rather amusing, but I really have things to do.”

“Like what? Writing your will?” Benji asked dryly. “Fine, okay. Barkeep!” he barked, suddenly making his voice sound as rough as possible. “We want your rum!”

“I don't have any rum,” the old man said.

“Well…why the hell not?”

“Because this isn't a tavern. It's my house!”

Benji blinked and looked around. “Really?”

Miguel sighed dejectedly. “Oh, darn.”

“Well, if we're done here, I'd like to get back to sorting my cheese….” the old man informed them in a matter-of-fact voice.

“Erm…okay. Well, could you point the way to the nearest tavern?”

XXX

“All right! Are we at the tavern now?” Benji asked the barkeep in a low whisper.

“…Yeah…” he answered, quirking a brow.

“Oh! Cool! All right, everybody, no need to be alarmed, but…we have a cannon!”

Miguel sighed and whispered something to the captain.

“…Oh. Well, the cannon will be here shortly. But in the meantime, I do have a rather impressive sword! And a gun! So give us all your rum and we promise to leave!” Benji nodded.

“But sirs, we don't have any rum...” the barkeep murmured.

“Miguel! Make them stop saying that!” Benji wailed, beating his head on a table.

The redhead unsheathed his own sword, pointed it at the barkeep, and asked tiredly, “Why is the rum gone?”

“Well, see for yourself,” the barkeep said, and pointed to the cellar boredly.

XXX

Upon entering the cellar, Benji, Miguel and Jiro found two things. One of the two things was that the barkeep was telling the truth: the rum was indeed gone.

The other was that they weren't alone.

“Okay, what the heck?” Benji blinked stupidly. “Our rum!”

The stranger turned slightly and gave the white-haired man an odd look before smiling. “But…I was here first and I've already stolen the rum,” he said, his ice-blue eyes glinting.

“But I want it…” Benji pouted.

“Sometimes in life…things suck, and…then you die. Sorry.”

“Oh, wow! That's enlightening...have you ever thought about going into motivational speaking?” Jiro asked coyly.

The stranger smoothed back his slate-colored hair and smiled. “People tell me that all the time.”

“Couldn't imagine why,” Miguel interjected. “However, as much as I respect a fellow pirate and his desire to drink, my Benji wants that rum, sir.” The redhead then retrieved his sword and pointed it at the man's neck. “And he will have his rum.”

“Big talk from such a little Spaniard,” the stranger smirked.

“I get that a lot.”

Benji leaned closer to Jiro. “What just happened?”

“If I claim to know anything at all, I'd either say your boyfriend is engaging our newcomer in battle…or they're hot for each other,” Jiro said slyly.

“Die.”

“Touché.”

The blue-haired man raised his hands in surrender. “It seems I am helpless and without a weapon.”

Miguel nodded. “Well…that was easy.” The Spaniard shrugged and turned his back to the newcomer. “Okay, Benji. Pack up the rum. We're outtie.”

“Kay. But you might want to do something about that…” Benji said, staring at the other man curiously.

Miguel turned to see that the unarmed guy had either found a weapon or made one. It seemed to be constructed of…ice?

“Still want to fight me?” the man asked, the “ice” sword at the ready.

“Please…I welcome the challenge. And that sword is made of…”

“Ice. Oh, yeah, did I mention that? I'm an ice apparition.”

“You don't say…”

XXX

Meanwhile, Back At the Rum

“Do you really think he's attracted to him?” Benji asked, a little sulkily.

Jiro sighed. “Drink up, Ben,” he said, handing the moron a bottle of whiskey. “I wish Erik was here…” he added a moment later, muttering it to himself.

“Eh?” Benji inquired, his eyes crossing as he looked over at the chaplain, a half-empty bottle in one hand.

“…Never mind.”

XXX

“Okay, that thing has to…melt or something, at some point, right?”

The ice guy gave Miguel a wry smile. “You'd think that, wouldn't you, Red?”

Miguel scowled, blocking a thrust from the ice sword and retaliating swiftly.

“You really are a creature of contrast, you know that?”

The redhead tried to look politely confused as he fell into a defensive stance to give himself a bit of rest. “How so, sir?”

“See, that right there! That's what I mean! You come into this fight all cool and pirate-like, but for reasons that have nothing to do with being a pirate and everything to do with making one happy. Then you fight like you have no idea what it means to hold back, and now you're standing there all wide-eyed and innocent and…and…I CAN'T WIN THIS!”

Miguel had to fight hard to keep a straight face while he blocked every strike against him (although with significant difficulty.)

“…Fine. I give!” the blue-haired guy finally said, and his sword vanished at last.

And then the ceiling exploded and a blur shot straight to the ground, making contact with an audible thud.

A look of worry passed over Ice Guy's face as he ran over and pulled the other into a seated position.

The latter began to inspect the flurry-headed stranger who apparently wasn't a stranger to him.

“Are you hurt? Dizzy? In any kind of pain at all?” the stranger asked the flurry.

The whirlwind of hair, however, wiped the dizzy look off his face. He gave a cat-like grin and stated triumphantly, “Whoo an' whee an' fun sorts! Did ye see tha', Touya? I just up an' flew an' next thing I know I'm fallin' through a roof and then I looks around and figures, `Hey! Touya's here!' An' I go to say hi and tell ye there's soldiers comin' an' I sees the people and the little redheaded lass and whooo WHEE! What a whirlwind!”

Miguel twitched visibly. “Lass, you said?”

“…Give up, boyo. Yer one step away from it, anyways.”

The redhead opened his mouth, paused, and then snapped it shut and shrugged in half-hearted agreement.

“WHAT THE FRENCH TOAST?!” Benji, the half-stupefied drunkard, shouted.

The company turned as one to stare at Benji.

“Erm…soldiers, you say?”

“Oi! Yeah, right over dere, actually,” the man called Jin pointed out.

“Well, it seems we've been ratted out, boys,” Miguel sighed.

“YOU MAY TAKE MY LIFE, BUT YOU CAN'T TAKE MY RUM!” Benji shouted.

Touya rolled his eyes, made a new sword, and turned to Benji. “Then you'd best fight with us.”

“What's it we're famous for?!” Jin bellowed to no one in particular.

“Stealin'!” was the reply.

“An' what else, lads?”

“Fightin'!”

“An' what else?!”

“Drinkin'!”

`And what do we do better'n all dat?”

“Stealin and drinkin' an' fightin'!”

“True dat.”

XXX

Within minutes, the group was running for dear life—well, except Jin and Touya, who elected to stay behind and hold off the guards.

On the way out, they passed Rin, who was dragging along her cannon and had finally reached the tavern. She was sweating profusely and about to collapse with exhaustion, but looked exultant as she finally reached the door.

“Hey, Rin, time to go!” Miguel called as they ran past. “Being chased! Hurry!”

Rin stopped dead, the cannon rope still clenched in her fist. She stared at them, and her lower lip began to wobble as her eyes filled with tears.

“But…but I just got here!”

“Rin, we are being chased!” Benji said. “By the guards! Now come on!”

“No!”

Benji sighed and rolled his eyes. “Great. Gonna have to do the dude thing now…” he muttered, before going over and lifting Rin over his shoulder.

“NOOOOOOO!” Rin wailed brokenheartedly, pounding on Benji's back and kicking at him as she reached desperately for her cannon. “MY BOOOOOOOM!”

Benji held tight, all his attention focused on keeping her restrained.

That was why he was unable to watch Miguel's back.

And that was why he never saw Miguel go down.

XXX

Miguel stared at the kitten he had just tripped over. “Oh, I am so sorry, kitty!” he exclaimed.

The kitten stared at him for a moment before saying decidedly, “Meow.”

Click, click, whistle, swish, clank.

The redhead looked up at the armored men surrounding him. “Um…hi, guys. Well, Kitty, I hate to say it, but I am feeling…the ultimate betrayal here.”