Crack!Fic: Ship
Title: Ship (Shakespeare gave me a hand with the title, but the rest is all my own work.*)
Fandom(s): Doctor Who, Blackadder
Pairings: Four/Rum, Leela/Percy (with implied Four/Rum/Edmund & Leela/Percy/Baldrick)
Rating: R (or, rather, Arrrrrrrrrrgh!)
Spoilers: A bit for Potato (BA seas. 2)
Summary: The Doctor and Leela drop in on Lord Blackadder during a particularly trying sea-voyage.
Notes: Happy F**ked-Up February, everyone! The Black Guardian has made me his (willing) plaything; any problems, take them up with him ... if you think that's a wise idea.
* And no, I promise, no more Shakespeare. But if you know who the quote is from, I shall give you a cookie.
X-posted to dw_slash, in honor of FUF.
(Oh, and "galligaskin" is just a fancy word for "man-tights." But it sounds funny, doesn't it?)
SHIP
"Let me get this straight, Baldrick, because I do want to be absolutely square before I have you stripped naked and your less-savoury bits dangled overboard like chum into the shark-infested waters."
"Yes, my lord."
"You say that there is a monster on this ship."
"Yes, my lord."
"Yet you have not, in point of fact, actually seen this monster."
"No, my lord, but I did 'ear it. Down in the 'old."
"Aha. You heard it in the hold ... and what, Baldrick, exactly what did this monster that you heard in the hold sound like, exactly?"
"Well ... a bit like the singing of the noseless mermaids of Fiji."
"I see. Only a bit?"
"Yeah. All wooshy, like, and squeally, but less mermaidy and more monstery."
Edmund sighed through flared nostrils. "Baldrick," he said to the small tatty man standing stoop-shouldered before him, "while I have no doubt as to your fluency in the various forms and nuances of the squeal - it being, of course, your native tongue - I cannot but assume that in this particular instance what you have once again taken for a sea-monster is in actual fact just another giant filthy rat. Therefore I want you to take this pointy stick, go down into the hold, find the rat, and convince it to come upstairs and captain this bloody ship. And if it refuses, ask it if it wants your job instead. Do you understand?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Very good." Clutching his stick, Baldrick shuffled out of the cabin. "And under no circumstances are you to return above deck until at least one of you is dead!" Edmund called as the cabin door swung shut behind him.
Edmund surveyed the pile of maps and charts scattered across the thick wooden table in front of him, their rolled edges held flat by candlesticks, inkpots, a half-knawed lump of hard tack, and a short-handled knife stuck tip-down into the wood. Ink lines crossed and re-crossed the topmost chart, most beginning and ending at random points and trailing off into fanciful swirls or rude doodles. The words "Percy rogers barnacles!" were scrawled across one corner, and "bugger bugger bugger" was repeated in a variety of different scripts across the parchment. Edmund took up a compass and pen and bent to the chart, muttering to himself. After several serious minutes of intense work and concentration, he dipped the pen in an inkwell, briefly consulted the compass once more, and finally wrote "Sod it all!" in a particularly lush hand across the centre of the chart.
From outside the closed cabin door a short scuffle came to his ears, followed by a groan and a dull thud as of a dead weight hitting the deck. That'll be Baldrick hurting himself, Edmund thought happily, putting aside the pen; or else Rum has gotten himself tangled in the shrimping nets again ... Both prospects afforded him equal satisfaction; just as he was preparing to sit back and not rush to the aid of either man, however, the door suddenly flew open.
The woman in the doorway was tall and bronzed and wearing so very little in the way of actual clothing that Edmund's eyebrows crawled to the top of his head and disappeared into his hairline in an instant. He stumbled to his feet, attempting a deep, gallant bow that resulted only in a nasty crack to his forehead on the edge of the table, and the inkwell being upset with a splash onto his shoes.
"Erm," he stuttered.
"Is that your monkey?" the woman asked, gesturing over her shoulder. Edmund tore his eyes from her magnificent bosom long enough to glance at the heap of Baldrick on the floor of the passageway outside.
"Oh, him - no, that's just the ship's cat." Surreptitiously wiping his ink-covered boot-tip against the back of his hose, he stepped around the table and took her hand. "Madam," he smarmed, "although your presence on this humble vessel is unexplained, let me assure you that it is most welcome. I am Lord Edmund Blackadder." He attempted a kiss on the hand that landed somewhere above and to the left of her wristbone. "And may I be so bold as to enquire after your name, my lady?"
The woman snatched her hand away and regarded him with narrowed eyes. "I am Leela, of the Sevateem."
"Excellent, excellent. And you're some sort of pirate, are you?"
"Pirate? What is that? I am here with the Doctor - "
Edmund's face fell like a nun on a patch of ice. "Doctor?"
"Hello!" An astonishingly tall man ducked into the cabin and regarded Edmund with a slightly manic smile. Edmund goggled up at him, pop-eyed.
"Captain?"
"Oh, are you?" asked the man amiably, extending a hand. "Doctor."
"What?"
"I'm the Doctor, Captain."
"Oh, now you're a doctor as well as a captain, are you?"
Leela and the Doctor exchanged glances. She reached slowly for the knife at her belt as he turned back to Edmund. "Well, I've always been the Doctor, you see," he explained slowly. Edmund sniffed.
"Yes, you'd have to be some sort of medical magician to grow your legs back in such a short time - sea air and all, I suppose?"
The Doctor clapped a hand on Edmund's shoulder. "I think perhaps we've gotten off on the wrong foot."
Edmund glared down his nose at the hand on his shoulder, pinched the Doctor's sleeve between thumb and forefinger, and tossed his arm aside. "Not too difficult, is it, that? Considering that until only just now you didn't have feet," he muttered.
"Edmund!" A willowy young man skidded full-out down the passageway, tripped over Baldrick's prone form, and flopped face-first into the cabin at their feet. "Ooooh-agh," he whimpered, feebly waggling a lace-trimmed handkerchief about his head. Leela's eyes lit up as she hastily reached to pull him to his feet. "Oh, thank you, very much," he said distractedly, brushing off his white linen shirt without a glance in her direction. Finally settled, he turned to Blackadder.
"Edmund! The most extraordinary thing has happened! A tremendous blue crate has simply appeared - poof! - in the ship's hold; and do you know, I think there were people in it!"
Blackadder rolled his eyes extravagantly. "Thank you, Percy, another tip-top observation made in a timely and appropriate fashion. And on a totally unrelated topic, may I introduce to you Leela of the ... Something ... "
"The Sevateem." Leela stepped close to Percy. "Hello," she purred. Percy, noticing her at last, smiled back coquettishly.
"Oh, my - enchanté ... " he simpered, batting his eyes.
"Put it away, Percy," Edmund hissed, and indicated the Doctor. "And this would appear to be - "
"My word, Edmund!" Percy stared at the Doctor and whispered loudly to Blackadder from behind his handkerchief. "This fellow looks astonishingly like the Captain, did you notice?" He studied the Doctor carefully. "Although there's something a bit different about him."
"You don't say."
"Yes, Edmund, there definitely is! I can't quite put my finger on it, though ... " Percy circled the Doctor, gazing up at him from all angles. "Aha! I have it!" he cried, looking from the Doctor back to Edmund. "He's gotten a new scarf!"
***
The ship creaked pleasantly about him as the Doctor strolled down the passageway, opening cupboards and peering into empty cabins as he went. He had wandered off to explore when Edmund's incessant carping had become too irritating to endure; the man's shrill whine faded into the distance now as the Doctor ambled away, reflecting that - with any luck - Leela would find it necessary to silence him soon, one way or another. She can be handy to have around, the Doctor admitted to himself, throwing open a particularly enticing iron-studded door and glancing into the lamp-lit room beyond.
"Well hello there," he said, stepping into the room with a fetching grin.
"Hello there ye'self," came a growl out of the dimness. "And who might ye be, miladdy?"
"I'm the Doctor."
"Didn't know we had one! But be welcome to my cabin, Doctor. I am the captain of this vessel, called to some Redbeard Rum, and to others, Redbeard Rum."
The Doctor moved into the light, regarding Rum with interest, and offered his hand. "A true pleasure to meet you, Captain Rum."
Rum caught the Doctor's hand suddenly in both of his own and inspected it in the lamplight. "Aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!" he crowed extravagantly, pulling the Doctor to his knees before him. "You have a woman's hand, milord!"
"Do I?"
"Aye! I'll wager this hand never traced the downy-soft cleft of a cabin boy's buttocks as the other hand fended off a battalion of blood-crazed turbot with naught but a candle-snuffer and a bit of lemon peel!"
"Turbot? Well, no ... and I don't think Harry would much have fancied being called a cabin boy - "
Suddenly pulling him closer, Rum buried his fingers in the Doctor's brown curls. "And you have a woman's hair!" he cried ecstatically.
"Mmmmm?" the Doctor mmmmm'd, distracted by the sudden closeness.
"Aye, you do! I'll wager this hair was never pulled clear out by the roots as you were shoved across a ship's railing and taken from behind by a pair of twin pirates in drag off the coast of Siam!" The Doctor was momentarily silenced by this intriguing prospect and the arresting possibilities it suddenly brought to mind. The Captain's eyes twinkled with a familiar mad light as his hand suddenly clamped down on the Doctor's thigh.
"Ooooooooh!" Rum cried, his face inches now from the Doctor's. "You have a woman's thighs, milord!" A second hand closed on his other thigh, and he squirmed happily as Rum's voice dropped to a low growl. "I'll wager these thighs were never wrapped around a panting heap of man-flesh, squeezing tight as you rode like a dolphin o'er the salty waves!"
"Ah!" the Doctor grinned. "Actually, there you'd be wrong. There was one time - "
"AND!" the Captain roared, "you have a woman's lips! I'll wager they - " He was cut off as the Doctor leaned in suddenly to kiss him, hard. "I take it back," Rum panted when they finally parted. "You have a man's lips indeed, milord! It seems to me, in fact, that they be lips I've known before."
"Do you know, I was thinking the same thing? I didn't notice it at first. I suppose I was rather distracted by your hair - do you know, I've always wanted to be ginger? - not to mention by your truly magnificent beard ... my word, you could lose a wombat in it!" the Doctor exclaimed, running his hand through the Captain's extravagant red whiskers.
"I would have said a badger, myself. And have we never met, then, Doctor?" Rum's hands continued kneading his thighs, creeping upwards. The Doctor shifted slightly and surreptitiously spread his knees a bit wider.
"I don't believe we have. It's curious, though, isn't it? We do share a certain resemblance."
"Do we? I've never looked in a glass, myself, for fear of falling in love with my own reflection."
"I can rather see why ... but really, it's remarkable. Aside from the obvious difference, of course, you being ginger and all."
"And you having legs."
"Haven't you any legs, then?"
"Nay. Not any more."
"Oh. Pity, that."
"Nay, not really. They just got in the way." The Captain's hands had continued to inch upwards as he spoke; now they found the Doctor's cock and stroked it through his tweed trousers. "If you know my meaning." The Doctor mmmmm'd again and reached out a finger to tickle the stuffed parrot stitched to Rum's shoulder.
"Lovely bird," he murmured.
"My good luck charm. Showed me the way to fresh water when I was stranded for a fortnight on the Isle of Wight, snatched me bodily from the jaws of a mighty sea-serpent, and then fed a crew of ten men, lightly braised in a white wine-and-lemon sauce."
"I can see why you'd keep it about. Ahem. And speaking of sea-serpents ... " The Doctor's hand slid down Rum's red velvet doublet and came to rest firmly on the rather obvious bulge in his hose. "You know, perhaps I'd better explore exactly what you mean, about the benefits of your leglessness." Deftly he untied the points lacing Rum's galligaskin to his doublet and reached inside. The Captain nodded earnestly and grabbed again at the Doctor's hair.
"We both be explorers, aye," he growled, pulling the Doctor's head down to his cock. "Then let us explore!"
The Doctor mmmmm'd.
***
The foc'sle was deserted. The quarterdeck was vacant. The orlop was tenantless. Edmund stalked about the ship, muttering to himself and slamming whatever doors he could find in the most savage way possible.
The poop deck was unpeopled. The galley was empty.
He peered about ill-humouredly, barked his shin on a large iron pot in an abortive attempt to kick it over, spontaneously invented a new multi-syllable curse word, and tripped over Baldrick on his way out of the galley.
"Baldrick, you're as graceful as a rhinoceros in heat and as welcome as a case of weeping buboes. Where the hell do you think you're going?" he added, as Baldrick attempted to sneak unobtrusively away in what could only be described as a parody of unobtrusive sneakiness.
"Oh, hello, my lord. Didn't see you down there. 'Ere, let me help you up - "
"Don't touch me, Baldrick, I know too well where that hand's been. What are you up to, sneaking about the kitchens like that? And what have you got in those jugs?" Picking himself up, Edmund glanced at the two stoneware flasks clutched under Baldrick's arm.
"Oh, these? Just some things the lady and the Captain asked me to fetch for them."
"So everybody's still on board, then, are they? I was under the impression that they'd all gone off for a quick paddle and splash around the Antipodes before supper."
"Oh, no, my lord. Last I saw, Percy was showing the lady 'round the gun deck. She was very interested in the cannons. And the Doctor and Rum are in the Captain's quarters."
"Bastards - they must have heard me knocking! Right, let's go." Edmund kicked Baldrick through the galley door, into the companionway and towards the stairs. Halfway up to the gun deck, they heard Percy's maniacal giggling and and a low feline growl from Leela. A pair of linen breeches came sailing down the stairs towards them.
The gun deck was strewn with what little clothing Leela had been wearing to begin with. Percy's feet were just visible, naked and sticking out from behind the largest of the ship's cannons; as Edmund strode towards it, Leela's head suddenly appeared over the feet, followed by her magnificent bosom. Edmund faltered. Her arm flashed out briefly and a knife suddenly buried itself in the wooden beam beside his head.
Edmund stopped.
"I do hope I'm not interrupting your tour of the vessel's armaments?" he squeaked.
"You are," Leela growled. "Where's the rum?"
"Right here, my lady!" Baldrick piped up from behind Edmund.
Percy's voice floated out to them. "Oh, excellent, I could just fancy a drink!" Blackadder and Baldrick stared open-mouthed as Leela glanced down at Percy's feet and sucked savagely at one of his toes. Edmund chanced a tiny step forward.
She looked up suddenly. "Get out!" she commanded sternly.
"Um - " Edmund began.
"OUT!"
"Yes."
"Leave the rum!"
"Yes. Of course. Leave the rum and let's go, Baldrick." Edmund nudged him and edged backwards towards the stairs, his eyes still locked on her breasts.
"The monkey can stay."
"What?"
"Oh, cheers, thanks." Baldrick trotted towards them, stopped, and returned to Edmund. "Would you mind bringing this 'round the Captain's cabin?" he asked, handing one of the bottles to the slack-jawed Blackadder. "Only they asked for it ages ago. Ta!" With a cheerful wave, Baldrick skipped off to the others. Edmund stood for a moment, gibbering quietly to himself.
A second knife suddenly joined the first in the beam, inches closer to his head.
Edmund ran for the stairs.
***
"Look, I know you're in there, it's no use pretending you're not, I'm coming in and you can't stop me!" Blackadder threw open the iron-studded door and squinted into the lamp-lit cabin.
"Ah," he said, helpfully.
The Captain reclined on a bunk littered with bits of clothing; a well-dressed cuddly toy bear sporting a jaunty eyepatch; and a long, thin silver object that seemed to be emitting a strange blue light. Above him - and apparently buried balls-deep in him - the Doctor bent to chew on his beard, while Rum arrrgh'd ecstatically. Both men were naked save for approximately three fathoms of striped scarf wrapped about them; Edmund could only just see the beak of the Captain's parrot protruding from between the coils of wool. Catching sight of Edmund, the Captain nudged the Doctor and nodded towards the doorway. Two identical pairs of eyes stared at Blackadder with four identical mad gleams as two identical mischievous grins spread slowly across two identical faces. Edmund raised an eyebrow and held out the bottle.
"I've brought your rum," he said evenly.
"Rum? No! I asked the little one for a bottle of the finest squid oil!" the Captain exclaimed. Edmund's nose wrinkled in disgust.
"Squid oil? What do you want bloody squid oil for?"
The Doctor grinned more broadly still, his teeth flashing white in the lamplight. "Makes an excellent natural lubricant," he explained.
"Right. I'm off." Edmund turned to the door.
"Aye, that would probably be best," the Captain growled from behind him. "Find a nice lonely spot in one of the rowboats and weep yourself to sleep. Again," he added, as Edmund whirled around to glare at him with narrowed eyes.
"How did you know - "
"Or," Rum continued, "you could just ... "
"... stay here?" the Doctor finished suggestively. "It is a very long scarf, after all."
"Aye, it is - and there's always room up the old sea dog."
Edmund considered for a moment. He sighed.
He stepped into the room and uncorked the bottle of rum. "Oh, what the hell. Why not?"
The Doctor beamed at him. "Good lad!"
"Arrrrrgh!" the Captain agreed heartily, as Edmund crossed the cabin towards them, untying his shirtlaces.
"Arrrrrgh, indeed," he said, saluting them with the bottle and taking a tremendous swig of rum. His face immediately turned seven shades of yellow in rapid succession.
"Brilliant! Just bloody brilliant!" Edmund spat. "It figures, doesn't it?"
"What does?" the Doctor asked solicitously.
"That cretin Baldrick finally got something right!" Edmund muttered, holding the bottle out to him. "It's your bloody squid oil!"
Fandom(s): Doctor Who, Blackadder
Pairings: Four/Rum, Leela/Percy (with implied Four/Rum/Edmund & Leela/Percy/Baldrick)
Rating: R (or, rather, Arrrrrrrrrrgh!)
Spoilers: A bit for Potato (BA seas. 2)
Summary: The Doctor and Leela drop in on Lord Blackadder during a particularly trying sea-voyage.
Notes: Happy F**ked-Up February, everyone! The Black Guardian has made me his (willing) plaything; any problems, take them up with him ... if you think that's a wise idea.
* And no, I promise, no more Shakespeare. But if you know who the quote is from, I shall give you a cookie.
X-posted to dw_slash, in honor of FUF.
(Oh, and "galligaskin" is just a fancy word for "man-tights." But it sounds funny, doesn't it?)
SHIP
"Let me get this straight, Baldrick, because I do want to be absolutely square before I have you stripped naked and your less-savoury bits dangled overboard like chum into the shark-infested waters."
"Yes, my lord."
"You say that there is a monster on this ship."
"Yes, my lord."
"Yet you have not, in point of fact, actually seen this monster."
"No, my lord, but I did 'ear it. Down in the 'old."
"Aha. You heard it in the hold ... and what, Baldrick, exactly what did this monster that you heard in the hold sound like, exactly?"
"Well ... a bit like the singing of the noseless mermaids of Fiji."
"I see. Only a bit?"
"Yeah. All wooshy, like, and squeally, but less mermaidy and more monstery."
Edmund sighed through flared nostrils. "Baldrick," he said to the small tatty man standing stoop-shouldered before him, "while I have no doubt as to your fluency in the various forms and nuances of the squeal - it being, of course, your native tongue - I cannot but assume that in this particular instance what you have once again taken for a sea-monster is in actual fact just another giant filthy rat. Therefore I want you to take this pointy stick, go down into the hold, find the rat, and convince it to come upstairs and captain this bloody ship. And if it refuses, ask it if it wants your job instead. Do you understand?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Very good." Clutching his stick, Baldrick shuffled out of the cabin. "And under no circumstances are you to return above deck until at least one of you is dead!" Edmund called as the cabin door swung shut behind him.
Edmund surveyed the pile of maps and charts scattered across the thick wooden table in front of him, their rolled edges held flat by candlesticks, inkpots, a half-knawed lump of hard tack, and a short-handled knife stuck tip-down into the wood. Ink lines crossed and re-crossed the topmost chart, most beginning and ending at random points and trailing off into fanciful swirls or rude doodles. The words "Percy rogers barnacles!" were scrawled across one corner, and "bugger bugger bugger" was repeated in a variety of different scripts across the parchment. Edmund took up a compass and pen and bent to the chart, muttering to himself. After several serious minutes of intense work and concentration, he dipped the pen in an inkwell, briefly consulted the compass once more, and finally wrote "Sod it all!" in a particularly lush hand across the centre of the chart.
From outside the closed cabin door a short scuffle came to his ears, followed by a groan and a dull thud as of a dead weight hitting the deck. That'll be Baldrick hurting himself, Edmund thought happily, putting aside the pen; or else Rum has gotten himself tangled in the shrimping nets again ... Both prospects afforded him equal satisfaction; just as he was preparing to sit back and not rush to the aid of either man, however, the door suddenly flew open.
The woman in the doorway was tall and bronzed and wearing so very little in the way of actual clothing that Edmund's eyebrows crawled to the top of his head and disappeared into his hairline in an instant. He stumbled to his feet, attempting a deep, gallant bow that resulted only in a nasty crack to his forehead on the edge of the table, and the inkwell being upset with a splash onto his shoes.
"Erm," he stuttered.
"Is that your monkey?" the woman asked, gesturing over her shoulder. Edmund tore his eyes from her magnificent bosom long enough to glance at the heap of Baldrick on the floor of the passageway outside.
"Oh, him - no, that's just the ship's cat." Surreptitiously wiping his ink-covered boot-tip against the back of his hose, he stepped around the table and took her hand. "Madam," he smarmed, "although your presence on this humble vessel is unexplained, let me assure you that it is most welcome. I am Lord Edmund Blackadder." He attempted a kiss on the hand that landed somewhere above and to the left of her wristbone. "And may I be so bold as to enquire after your name, my lady?"
The woman snatched her hand away and regarded him with narrowed eyes. "I am Leela, of the Sevateem."
"Excellent, excellent. And you're some sort of pirate, are you?"
"Pirate? What is that? I am here with the Doctor - "
Edmund's face fell like a nun on a patch of ice. "Doctor?"
"Hello!" An astonishingly tall man ducked into the cabin and regarded Edmund with a slightly manic smile. Edmund goggled up at him, pop-eyed.
"Captain?"
"Oh, are you?" asked the man amiably, extending a hand. "Doctor."
"What?"
"I'm the Doctor, Captain."
"Oh, now you're a doctor as well as a captain, are you?"
Leela and the Doctor exchanged glances. She reached slowly for the knife at her belt as he turned back to Edmund. "Well, I've always been the Doctor, you see," he explained slowly. Edmund sniffed.
"Yes, you'd have to be some sort of medical magician to grow your legs back in such a short time - sea air and all, I suppose?"
The Doctor clapped a hand on Edmund's shoulder. "I think perhaps we've gotten off on the wrong foot."
Edmund glared down his nose at the hand on his shoulder, pinched the Doctor's sleeve between thumb and forefinger, and tossed his arm aside. "Not too difficult, is it, that? Considering that until only just now you didn't have feet," he muttered.
"Edmund!" A willowy young man skidded full-out down the passageway, tripped over Baldrick's prone form, and flopped face-first into the cabin at their feet. "Ooooh-agh," he whimpered, feebly waggling a lace-trimmed handkerchief about his head. Leela's eyes lit up as she hastily reached to pull him to his feet. "Oh, thank you, very much," he said distractedly, brushing off his white linen shirt without a glance in her direction. Finally settled, he turned to Blackadder.
"Edmund! The most extraordinary thing has happened! A tremendous blue crate has simply appeared - poof! - in the ship's hold; and do you know, I think there were people in it!"
Blackadder rolled his eyes extravagantly. "Thank you, Percy, another tip-top observation made in a timely and appropriate fashion. And on a totally unrelated topic, may I introduce to you Leela of the ... Something ... "
"The Sevateem." Leela stepped close to Percy. "Hello," she purred. Percy, noticing her at last, smiled back coquettishly.
"Oh, my - enchanté ... " he simpered, batting his eyes.
"Put it away, Percy," Edmund hissed, and indicated the Doctor. "And this would appear to be - "
"My word, Edmund!" Percy stared at the Doctor and whispered loudly to Blackadder from behind his handkerchief. "This fellow looks astonishingly like the Captain, did you notice?" He studied the Doctor carefully. "Although there's something a bit different about him."
"You don't say."
"Yes, Edmund, there definitely is! I can't quite put my finger on it, though ... " Percy circled the Doctor, gazing up at him from all angles. "Aha! I have it!" he cried, looking from the Doctor back to Edmund. "He's gotten a new scarf!"
***
The ship creaked pleasantly about him as the Doctor strolled down the passageway, opening cupboards and peering into empty cabins as he went. He had wandered off to explore when Edmund's incessant carping had become too irritating to endure; the man's shrill whine faded into the distance now as the Doctor ambled away, reflecting that - with any luck - Leela would find it necessary to silence him soon, one way or another. She can be handy to have around, the Doctor admitted to himself, throwing open a particularly enticing iron-studded door and glancing into the lamp-lit room beyond.
"Well hello there," he said, stepping into the room with a fetching grin.
"Hello there ye'self," came a growl out of the dimness. "And who might ye be, miladdy?"
"I'm the Doctor."
"Didn't know we had one! But be welcome to my cabin, Doctor. I am the captain of this vessel, called to some Redbeard Rum, and to others, Redbeard Rum."
The Doctor moved into the light, regarding Rum with interest, and offered his hand. "A true pleasure to meet you, Captain Rum."
Rum caught the Doctor's hand suddenly in both of his own and inspected it in the lamplight. "Aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!" he crowed extravagantly, pulling the Doctor to his knees before him. "You have a woman's hand, milord!"
"Do I?"
"Aye! I'll wager this hand never traced the downy-soft cleft of a cabin boy's buttocks as the other hand fended off a battalion of blood-crazed turbot with naught but a candle-snuffer and a bit of lemon peel!"
"Turbot? Well, no ... and I don't think Harry would much have fancied being called a cabin boy - "
Suddenly pulling him closer, Rum buried his fingers in the Doctor's brown curls. "And you have a woman's hair!" he cried ecstatically.
"Mmmmm?" the Doctor mmmmm'd, distracted by the sudden closeness.
"Aye, you do! I'll wager this hair was never pulled clear out by the roots as you were shoved across a ship's railing and taken from behind by a pair of twin pirates in drag off the coast of Siam!" The Doctor was momentarily silenced by this intriguing prospect and the arresting possibilities it suddenly brought to mind. The Captain's eyes twinkled with a familiar mad light as his hand suddenly clamped down on the Doctor's thigh.
"Ooooooooh!" Rum cried, his face inches now from the Doctor's. "You have a woman's thighs, milord!" A second hand closed on his other thigh, and he squirmed happily as Rum's voice dropped to a low growl. "I'll wager these thighs were never wrapped around a panting heap of man-flesh, squeezing tight as you rode like a dolphin o'er the salty waves!"
"Ah!" the Doctor grinned. "Actually, there you'd be wrong. There was one time - "
"AND!" the Captain roared, "you have a woman's lips! I'll wager they - " He was cut off as the Doctor leaned in suddenly to kiss him, hard. "I take it back," Rum panted when they finally parted. "You have a man's lips indeed, milord! It seems to me, in fact, that they be lips I've known before."
"Do you know, I was thinking the same thing? I didn't notice it at first. I suppose I was rather distracted by your hair - do you know, I've always wanted to be ginger? - not to mention by your truly magnificent beard ... my word, you could lose a wombat in it!" the Doctor exclaimed, running his hand through the Captain's extravagant red whiskers.
"I would have said a badger, myself. And have we never met, then, Doctor?" Rum's hands continued kneading his thighs, creeping upwards. The Doctor shifted slightly and surreptitiously spread his knees a bit wider.
"I don't believe we have. It's curious, though, isn't it? We do share a certain resemblance."
"Do we? I've never looked in a glass, myself, for fear of falling in love with my own reflection."
"I can rather see why ... but really, it's remarkable. Aside from the obvious difference, of course, you being ginger and all."
"And you having legs."
"Haven't you any legs, then?"
"Nay. Not any more."
"Oh. Pity, that."
"Nay, not really. They just got in the way." The Captain's hands had continued to inch upwards as he spoke; now they found the Doctor's cock and stroked it through his tweed trousers. "If you know my meaning." The Doctor mmmmm'd again and reached out a finger to tickle the stuffed parrot stitched to Rum's shoulder.
"Lovely bird," he murmured.
"My good luck charm. Showed me the way to fresh water when I was stranded for a fortnight on the Isle of Wight, snatched me bodily from the jaws of a mighty sea-serpent, and then fed a crew of ten men, lightly braised in a white wine-and-lemon sauce."
"I can see why you'd keep it about. Ahem. And speaking of sea-serpents ... " The Doctor's hand slid down Rum's red velvet doublet and came to rest firmly on the rather obvious bulge in his hose. "You know, perhaps I'd better explore exactly what you mean, about the benefits of your leglessness." Deftly he untied the points lacing Rum's galligaskin to his doublet and reached inside. The Captain nodded earnestly and grabbed again at the Doctor's hair.
"We both be explorers, aye," he growled, pulling the Doctor's head down to his cock. "Then let us explore!"
The Doctor mmmmm'd.
***
The foc'sle was deserted. The quarterdeck was vacant. The orlop was tenantless. Edmund stalked about the ship, muttering to himself and slamming whatever doors he could find in the most savage way possible.
The poop deck was unpeopled. The galley was empty.
He peered about ill-humouredly, barked his shin on a large iron pot in an abortive attempt to kick it over, spontaneously invented a new multi-syllable curse word, and tripped over Baldrick on his way out of the galley.
"Baldrick, you're as graceful as a rhinoceros in heat and as welcome as a case of weeping buboes. Where the hell do you think you're going?" he added, as Baldrick attempted to sneak unobtrusively away in what could only be described as a parody of unobtrusive sneakiness.
"Oh, hello, my lord. Didn't see you down there. 'Ere, let me help you up - "
"Don't touch me, Baldrick, I know too well where that hand's been. What are you up to, sneaking about the kitchens like that? And what have you got in those jugs?" Picking himself up, Edmund glanced at the two stoneware flasks clutched under Baldrick's arm.
"Oh, these? Just some things the lady and the Captain asked me to fetch for them."
"So everybody's still on board, then, are they? I was under the impression that they'd all gone off for a quick paddle and splash around the Antipodes before supper."
"Oh, no, my lord. Last I saw, Percy was showing the lady 'round the gun deck. She was very interested in the cannons. And the Doctor and Rum are in the Captain's quarters."
"Bastards - they must have heard me knocking! Right, let's go." Edmund kicked Baldrick through the galley door, into the companionway and towards the stairs. Halfway up to the gun deck, they heard Percy's maniacal giggling and and a low feline growl from Leela. A pair of linen breeches came sailing down the stairs towards them.
The gun deck was strewn with what little clothing Leela had been wearing to begin with. Percy's feet were just visible, naked and sticking out from behind the largest of the ship's cannons; as Edmund strode towards it, Leela's head suddenly appeared over the feet, followed by her magnificent bosom. Edmund faltered. Her arm flashed out briefly and a knife suddenly buried itself in the wooden beam beside his head.
Edmund stopped.
"I do hope I'm not interrupting your tour of the vessel's armaments?" he squeaked.
"You are," Leela growled. "Where's the rum?"
"Right here, my lady!" Baldrick piped up from behind Edmund.
Percy's voice floated out to them. "Oh, excellent, I could just fancy a drink!" Blackadder and Baldrick stared open-mouthed as Leela glanced down at Percy's feet and sucked savagely at one of his toes. Edmund chanced a tiny step forward.
She looked up suddenly. "Get out!" she commanded sternly.
"Um - " Edmund began.
"OUT!"
"Yes."
"Leave the rum!"
"Yes. Of course. Leave the rum and let's go, Baldrick." Edmund nudged him and edged backwards towards the stairs, his eyes still locked on her breasts.
"The monkey can stay."
"What?"
"Oh, cheers, thanks." Baldrick trotted towards them, stopped, and returned to Edmund. "Would you mind bringing this 'round the Captain's cabin?" he asked, handing one of the bottles to the slack-jawed Blackadder. "Only they asked for it ages ago. Ta!" With a cheerful wave, Baldrick skipped off to the others. Edmund stood for a moment, gibbering quietly to himself.
A second knife suddenly joined the first in the beam, inches closer to his head.
Edmund ran for the stairs.
***
"Look, I know you're in there, it's no use pretending you're not, I'm coming in and you can't stop me!" Blackadder threw open the iron-studded door and squinted into the lamp-lit cabin.
"Ah," he said, helpfully.
The Captain reclined on a bunk littered with bits of clothing; a well-dressed cuddly toy bear sporting a jaunty eyepatch; and a long, thin silver object that seemed to be emitting a strange blue light. Above him - and apparently buried balls-deep in him - the Doctor bent to chew on his beard, while Rum arrrgh'd ecstatically. Both men were naked save for approximately three fathoms of striped scarf wrapped about them; Edmund could only just see the beak of the Captain's parrot protruding from between the coils of wool. Catching sight of Edmund, the Captain nudged the Doctor and nodded towards the doorway. Two identical pairs of eyes stared at Blackadder with four identical mad gleams as two identical mischievous grins spread slowly across two identical faces. Edmund raised an eyebrow and held out the bottle.
"I've brought your rum," he said evenly.
"Rum? No! I asked the little one for a bottle of the finest squid oil!" the Captain exclaimed. Edmund's nose wrinkled in disgust.
"Squid oil? What do you want bloody squid oil for?"
The Doctor grinned more broadly still, his teeth flashing white in the lamplight. "Makes an excellent natural lubricant," he explained.
"Right. I'm off." Edmund turned to the door.
"Aye, that would probably be best," the Captain growled from behind him. "Find a nice lonely spot in one of the rowboats and weep yourself to sleep. Again," he added, as Edmund whirled around to glare at him with narrowed eyes.
"How did you know - "
"Or," Rum continued, "you could just ... "
"... stay here?" the Doctor finished suggestively. "It is a very long scarf, after all."
"Aye, it is - and there's always room up the old sea dog."
Edmund considered for a moment. He sighed.
He stepped into the room and uncorked the bottle of rum. "Oh, what the hell. Why not?"
The Doctor beamed at him. "Good lad!"
"Arrrrrgh!" the Captain agreed heartily, as Edmund crossed the cabin towards them, untying his shirtlaces.
"Arrrrrgh, indeed," he said, saluting them with the bottle and taking a tremendous swig of rum. His face immediately turned seven shades of yellow in rapid succession.
"Brilliant! Just bloody brilliant!" Edmund spat. "It figures, doesn't it?"
"What does?" the Doctor asked solicitously.
"That cretin Baldrick finally got something right!" Edmund muttered, holding the bottle out to him. "It's your bloody squid oil!"