A Worrying Possibility

“Alls I’m saying,” Rat Jack said, tapping a wooden barrel for emphasis, “Is that the cook is the next best thing to a Quartermaster, if you think about it.”

“No,” Riley said, sighing and flipping through her papers, “It’s not. Besides,” She cracked open the top of another barrel, briefly peered inside, nodded, then motioned for Rat Jack to close it back up, “Even if you were the Quartermaster, you’d still report to me.”

Rat Jack dutifully pounded the lid back into place before responding, “Merchant or navy ships, sure, but we’re pirates now. Everyone knows the QM on a pirate ship is second-in-command.”

Riley scribbled something onto one of her papers, then tapped the next barrel, “It’s a good thing we don’t have a Quartermaster, then, isn’t it?”

Isabella had been in the hold for five minutes, and she found the exchanges between her two senior crewmembers fascinating. Rat Jack seemed to have a bottomless well of excuses, proposals, queries, and suggestions, most of which involved extracting a “favor” from the ship’s navigator or convincing her that she “needed” to have sex with him. Riley, of course, reflexively swatted down each advance with a natural ease that suggested she had plenty of practice. It was an impressive exchange to watch, and the young woman admired Rat Jack’s creativity and persistence, if nothing else.

“Alright, that’s the last one,” Riley decided, frowning down at her papers, “You didn’t move any of the dried goods to the kitchen, did you Jack?”

Rat Jack gave Riley a confused look, “We’re barely a day out at sea; of course not. Fresh ingredients for the first week, at least.”

“Figured as much,” Riley said, sighing and making for the exit, “Isabella, help the Rat get everything back into place, and keep an eye out. Either our supplier was a craftier cheat than I gave him credit for, or we’ve got a stowaway.”

“A stowaway?” Isabella gasped, jumping to attention, “We need to inform the captain! And- and raise the alarm! We-”

“Just help Rat Jack,” Riley said, “I’ll handle the rest.”

Rat Jack slid a reassuring hand around the young woman’s waist, pulling her perhaps a bit closer than was strictly necessary, “Don’t worry, miss. Just stay close to me, and Ol’ Rat Jack keep you safe.”

Isabella did calm down a bit after Rat Jack’s reassurance, but she still didn’t like the idea of a stranger sneaking about on the ship. With a crew so small, one sneak with a knife could kill everyone in their sleep, and even if the stowaway was peaceful, it was still a drain on supplies that they hadn’t planned for.

Isabella only realized how long she had been paralyzed with worry when Rat Jack’s hand, previously stroking up and down her side in an oddly comforting fashion, slipped under her shirt, the sudden skin-to-skin contact pulling her from her distracted daze. She carefully squirmed her way out of Rat Jack’s grip, approaching one of the heavy barrels that had been pulled out of place for Riley’s inspection.

“Thanks, Ratty, but we better get these back into place, right?” Isabella covered her nerves with her typical flirty attitude, but Rat Jack could sense the worry in her voice. Still, he gave a grunt of confirmation, and the two of them began hauling cargo back into its proper resting spot, making sure to secure everything with carefully-tied ropes. On a whim, they had also draped a spare net over the food barrels, an extra layer of hassle for any potential thieves among them. By the time the work was done, Isabella had worked up a bit of a sweat. She noted with some surprise that Rat Jack seemed surprisingly fresh, suggesting that the man possessed more strength and stamina than his diminutive frame might suggest.

“Heavier than they look, eh?” Rat Jack said, appreciating the way Isabella’s chest expanded and contracted with her labored breaths. Isabella only managed a sheepish smile, leaning against the wall for support. Rat Jack returned her smile, before wrapping a familiar arm around her once more, this time leading her towards the crew quarters, “You’re a good worker, miss. Come on, we should stick together if there’s a stowaway sneaking around, and you deserve a moment to relax after that, wouldn’t you say?”

Isabella had a feeling she knew exactly the kind of relaxing Rat Jack wanted to do, but she allowed herself to be pulled along for the moment. She could use a chance to catch her breath, and he was right about the importance of sticking together. Being alone was a risk she didn’t want to take, but was staying with Rat Jack really her best option?