I guess we should talk

“I guess we should get some things straight, before I agree to serve on your ship.” Brenan's emotions soared when he heard Red acknowledge that she was taking his offer seriously. He hadn't let himself think about how bizarre his request might sound until he heard her response. Red Arlensen was one of the few officers that had ever sailed with that he trusted enough to share the responsibilities of command with and if she wasn't willing to be his first officer, he had no good second choice.

“What do you want to know?” Brenan asked, secretly hoping she just wanted to spend some more time alone with him.

“Well tell me about this schooner of yours, what's her name?” Red was leading him between the weathered cottage and the sandy beach now and Brenan saw a four meter skiff resting hull up on heavy wooden beams next to a set of rollers leading to the breakers.

“She doesn't have a name yet, her past owner called her 'The Jezebel' but I had Davy remove that old name plate as a condition of the sale.” Brenan explained as they moved past the skiff and a rack of fishnets that fluttered in the midday breeze. “Her lines are far to sweet to give her a name like that.” Brenan spent the next few minutes explaining why the schooner was perfect for both island hopping and blue water sailing and Red listened thoughtfully as he described her shallow draught, the layout below decks, her rigging and the lead block ballast by her keel.

By the time he finished answering Red's questions the pair had climbed up the rocky outcrop that formed the Western arm of the small cove. Red showed Brenan a pair of water-smoothed boulders that formed a natural seat overlooking the waters north of the island. Red pointed to the stone bench, white with sea salt, and Brenan lowered himself to the flat face scooting to one side to make room for Red. The shape of the seat had the effect of pushing their two bodies together but that didn't bother Brenan in the least, and Red seemed oblivious to the way her soft curves molded perfectly against his ribs.

“This is where I come to think.” She explained as the two of them settled back against the smooth sun-warmed stone. “About Cindy's mom, and how I ended up with Cindy. What I can do to make her life everything she deserves and how in the hell I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life once she leaves.” Red sighed deeply and without looking away from the horizon continued in a tired voice. “I can't go back to a pirating life.” She told him. “I've sat up here for too many hours thinking of all those men I killed, and women too for that matter, when we were on the Kranderkill.” Brenan sat silently by Red's side unsure of how to respond to a confession like that.

“I don't want that kind of blood on my hands Brenan.” The fact that the crew and officers of the Kranderkill had a reputation of softness for their humane treatment of captives or that the men Red had killed had been trying to do the same to her might have seemed relevant at one point in his life, but Brenan too was sick of the killing and he knew exactly how Red felt.

“I get it Red.” Brenan took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. “That's why I want to sail as a trader, and explorer. It took me three years longer than you to figure it out, but I'd be content if we never once fired her guns in anger.” He felt a gentle squeeze in response and then quickly amended his statement.

“Don't get me wrong Red Arlensen,” using her full name to emphasize his words. “There are a lot of bastards out there that deserve an immediate watery burial, but the men and women who are just trying to make an honest living...” Brenan fell silent as he searched for the right words. “We weren't bad as pirates go, but I hear what you're saying Red, I don't want to ever go down that path again.”

“You'll miss it Brenan.” Red's words surprised him.

“No I won't Red, that part of my life is finally over.” He assured her.

“You'll miss it.” She repeated “I know because I still miss it myself. Not the tedium of waiting for a prize, or the cold blooded killing of the stupid shits too dumb to surrender,” Red explained “but the excitement of the chase, and that moment when the irons fly out and the ships are pulled together.” For the first time since they started the conversation Red looked at Brenan meeting his eyes squarely. “There's nothing in the world that matches that feeling, not even sex.” Brenan could see the same fire in her eyes that he remembered from the first boarding action he saw on the Kranderkill. Red had been awe-inspiring as she led the new trainees over the gunwales and onto the deck of the other ship. Brenan still remembered how her eyes had blazed with passion as she flung herself fearlessly into the fray. Had that been the moment he had fallen in love with her? Could he really have loved her all these years without even knowing it?

The realization came as a shock to him. Perhaps as shocked as Red was when his hand cupped her cheek and his lips searched for hers. The kiss was clumsy, in part because he wasn't prepared for surge of desire that was unleashed in him. All of Brenan's experience with kissing involved women he had no emotional attachment to, kissing a woman he ... he loved? was different.

Brenan sensed her shock and confusion, but he held her mouth to his desperately hoping that somehow she'd come to understand the depth of his need for her.