The crew watched, silent and uncertain, when two strangers approached the gangway. Hook's expression was stony as he invited Tinkerbell to board the Second Star. Her stomach flat on the wheeled board, she used her hands to scuttle across the plank. The wheels caught on the lip and Flit was the first to move forward and help her out. Following in Tinkerbell's wake was a woman. This woman carried their belongings in a hefty trunk.
"Are you coming to?" Hook asked gruffly. The woman nodded.
"I'm her care-giver." The woman explained. Hook looked her up and down. The woman was a hired sword, judged by his experienced eyes. She wore men's clothing, ill-matching and loose fitting, but her boots looked expensive. She had a sword on her hip but, glancing at her bulky jerkin, Hook was willing to bet that she had more weapons secreted about her.
Hook blocked her way.
"What's your name?"
"Anne Bonny." It wasn't a name he was familiar with. She hocked up phlegm and spat on the deck. Scrunching his nose in disgust, Hook stepped out of her way. But his gaze followed her suspiciously. She was a killer. There was a flatness to her eyes. She'd taken lives before and she felt very little about it. Hook had seen the type before. It unsettled him.
"Scuttle," he called over his First Mate.
"Captain?"
Hook nodded his head in Anne's direction.
"Keep a close eye on that one."
"Yes, Captain."
*
The wind had died down and Wendy stood at the helm. Hook tentatively approached her. They'd been at sea for nearly a week and Wendy had been avoiding him. She didn't say anything when he stood beside her and Hook breathed a little easier – at least she hadn't moved away from him.
"So, this is Blind Man's bluff." He commented, trying to fill the silence.
"Hmm, seems so."
The steep cliff was bone white and the waves crashed against the base of the cliffs - thundering like a drum. They'd dropped anchor a little away from the perilous coast.
"The men should be back soon." Scuttle and a few others had left in a small rowing boat - tasked with acquiring a rare flower that Tinkerbell required.
Wendy crossed her arms, making no reply. Hook clicked his fingers nervously. "We'll have to part ways with Merise soon."
"Why?"
"Tinkerbell says we'll need to leave the sea and go upriver." The mermaid wouldn't be able to live outside of salt water. Wendy finally turned her head to look at him.
"I guess you'll miss her."
"We all will. She's protected us well." He didn't understand the fierceness in Wendy's expression.
"Is that really it? I thought you might miss her more than the others."
Hook frowned, not understanding what she was getting at. "She's very beautiful. With her long hair and womanly... curves." Wendy added. Hook couldn't suppress a surprised laugh.
"Are you jealous?" He teased.
Wendy struck him across the face, her slap leaving a scarlet hand print.
"Yes, I'm jealous." She snapped. Hook took a step back from her. "I'm jealous of every woman! Because I'll never look like that. I'll be like this – trapped in a child's body – forever." Tears filled her eyes and she glared at him. Hook dropped his gaze guiltily.
"I don't think of you as being a child." He murmured softly.
"But you don't look at me and see a woman either." Wendy's voice caught in her throat, a sob threatening to escape. "You don't look at me... the way I want you to."
She ran, fleeing – her face flushed and tears slipping down. Hook watched her disappear down into the hold. His feet were rooted to the spot, his tongue tied. What words could he reasonably offer?
**
Tinkerbell's directions brought them to an island that hadn't shown on any maps. Scuttle fanned himself with his hand, sweat dripping down his face.
"The sun is beating down something fierce," he complained. If he'd wrung out his shirt, he could had collected a puddle of sweat from it. The crew were dotted lazily about – most trying to sit in any patch of shade the masts and rigging offered.
Scuttle looked across at Flit, who was stretched out on his back – deliberately tanning. "You're mad," Scuttle chided – clicking his tongue like an old mother hen. "My old man sat too long in the sun once, it drove him mad. My ma had to throw a pan of cold water over his head to calm him down – a neighbour tried to get the constable involved."
Flit shrugged his scrawny shoulders. Unconcerned. "Here, what's that tattoo on your chest?" Scuttle asked, only just noticing it. The tattoo was of a heart – with a woman's name written over it. "That for an old flame?"
"It's for me mam." Flit replied, unabashed. "I got it done on my first crossing without her."
"You got your mums name tattooed in a heart across your chest!?" Scuttle exclaimed. He laughed suddenly. "No lass is going to believe that one lad, you've dug yourself into a right hole – if I'm not very much mistaken."
Scuttle kept trying to tease the lad but Flit shrugged off his remarks. So, Scuttle tried to get the other lads on board but everyone was too disinterested or lazy to bother. It was the heat, Scuttle reckoned – it was knocking all their spirits. He continued fussing about Flit's future – inventing all kinds of upsets that a girlfriend might feel about the heart.
Flit listened without protest, but his ears were also pricked for sounds from below. He wondered what was going on in the Captain's quarters.
"I need you to stay with the ship, Wendy." Hook argued. He was exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes. He'd been struggling to sleep for days. "You're the only person I can trust."
"This was my plan – I want to see it through." She shot back, crossing her arms.
"It was also your plan to allow Tinkerbell aboard. I don't trust her. I can't leave her alone on the ship. That's why one of us has to stay here."
"One of us," Wendy snapped this up. "Why don't you stay? This was my plan. I should be the one putting my life on the line."
Hook ran his hands through his hair. His voice was hoarse, he needed sleep, he had a pounding headache and the last thing he had energy for was an argument with Wendy. He sat down heavily and sighed.
"That's it, isn't it? You're worried about me. That's why you want to come."
Wendy's hands balled into fists at her sides. It was true – and was that so very wrong of her?
"I have to know that you're alright."
"And I have to know that you believe in me."
An uncomfortable silence settled between them. Hook turned on his stool and faced Bourne's gaudy piano. Sombrely, he began playing a simple tune with one hand. Wendy watched him and her insides tugged miserably when she saw him instinctively raise his hook – only to lower it when he remembered his missing hand. Pan had taken a lot from Hook too. She couldn't pretend that this was only her fight.
Wendy approached Hook's side and reached for the bottle of rum that had been left on the piano's top. She drank deeply from the bottle, chugging down the sweet nectar. Hook closed the piano lid suddenly, nearly trapping her fingers and Wendy recoiled. "Do you believe in me?" He demanded. She clenched the bottle neck tightly in a trembling hand.
"Yes."
"Then, you have support me in this. Because I need you."
They gazed at one another, their faces shadowed from the flickering candlelight.
**
With a worried heart, Wendy stood on the deck of the Second Star the next morning – and watched the small boat, baring Hook and a few of his men, making swift progress up the meandering river. They were headed up Crocodile Creek which, according to Tinkerbell, would lead them to Pan's secret hide away. Wendy's brow furrowed deeply – her nerves taunt as the ship's ropes. She glanced across the deck at Tinkerbell, noticing how the nymph's attention was on the horizon behind them rather than ahead.
Had she been wise, to invite such a dangerous creature back into her life?
"You know," mused Scuttle as they slowly rowed their way up the winding creak. "When I joined your crew – I didn't expect things to be like this."
"Oh?" Hook had his gun at the ready, his beady gaze vigilantly on the dense trees that seemed to bend over the river – their vines blocking out the sun. "What were you expecting?"
"The simple life of a crook." Scuttle grinned, flashing a glimpse of his rotting back teeth.
"And less crocodiles." Flit pipped up. Every floating log was making him tremble in fear. It wasn't called Crocodile Creek for nothing and, as they rowed deeper into the heart of the island, they encountered them. The large reptiles were very still, lying on the banks of the river. As they rowed past, one beast stirred and eased itself into the river. The men cocked their pistols uneasily.
"Yo ho, yo ho," Scuttle started to sing – trying to ease the tension. "So, try the life of a thief. Just sample the life of a crook. There isn't a boy who won't enjoy, a'workin' for Captain Hook."
"The world's most famous crook." Flit added, playing along – his voice cracking.
"Crook, crook, crickety crockety, crickety crook," Scuttle was losing his creative handle over the lyrics and Flit wasn't helping.
"Look, look - it's-"
"Keep singing Flit."
"The croc is aaaafter Captain-" Flit sang – his eyes wide with terror and riveted on the crocodile that was following them.
Hook fired his pistol in the air. The crocodile swerved course abruptly, causing a wave of water to rock the boat. Scuttle exhaled in relief at the sight of the crocodile swimming away from them. But they weren't entirely out of danger yet. More crocodiles still slumbered on the bank.
"You'll love the life of a thief," Hook sank loudly. "You'll relish the life of a crook. There's barrels of fun, for everyone." The men exhaled in relief, when they rounded a corner and lost sight of their reptilian friends. "And you'll get treasures by the ton!" That line got a cheer from the crew. They laughed and teased one another for being afraid. Scuttle clapped Flit on the back (– it was unclear if he'd deliberately aimed for Flit's sunburn or not).
Hook smiled, but it was grimace. His attentionremained on the river banks. Not, however, for crocodiles. They weren't what worried him most. Itwas the more pressing threat - of eyes that might be watching them...