Muwahahahar
Hi, newbie attack! Sorry, please endure :S I found this wonderful place a few days ago and thought I’d stop lurking in the shadows and actually post something J I come in peace and baring fic …
Title: Out of control
Author: Raphael_lestat
Disclaimer: Beckett isn’t mine, neithers Mercer…damn it Rating: PG-13 (this chapter…drabble…prologue…whatever)
Word count: 403
Characters: Beckett (um, duh?)
Pairings: Beckett/OFC, Mercer/OFC (maybe, later on)
Summary: A friend of mine said “If Beckett was to ever take a wife she would be like one of his ships. Beautiful, graceful, stylish, ready to obey his every whim and utterly, utterly deadly”
Warnings: Ummm…completely ignores AWE? Beckett might be out of character, I’m trying hard to get a feel for him (er, his character *cough*) so advice etc would be hugely welcome J
Out of Control
The first time it happened Cutler Beckett woke with a hand pressed over his mouth and a blade against his throat. He lay perfectly still in the darkness of his cabin, trying to force his eyes to see,
"Give me a reason why I shouldn't kill you?" She - for no man he'd ever met had a voice like that - spoke softly. It was as she leant forward that he became aware of the weight across his hips...she was straddling him like some common harbour side whore. His eyes finally came into focus as she leaned forward only to find her face veiled and her hair of a shade too dark to make out properly,
"I can make you rich" He offered, no fear in his smooth voice, only a little irritation. He was reaching up slowly, surprised his hands were still free, for the small hand pistol he kept under his pillow,
"I'm already wealthy enough" She replied, "and it's not there" The pistol - *his* pistol - pressed against his temple, "please stop moving, Governor Beckett" She said in hard tones, "I asked my question for a reason"
"What is it you want?" He replied calmly, ignoring the fact he was lieing on his back in the dark in a white nightshirt without either weapon or wig. Damn. She, whoever she was, went very still of a sudden. The only sound - bar the general moans and groans of a ship in the night - was the mattress creaking in protest as she sat back slightly,
"Excellent question" And then, like smoke in the wind, she was gone. Beckett clutched at the bedclothes as a loud rattle broke the tense silence before rolling over and lighting a candle. The hand pistol glittered on the bedside table and his room was utterly empty...he even gave in to the childish urge to check under his bed.
Nothing.
Had it been a dream? He frowned, raising a hand to his neck and hissing as he found a tiny cut, his fingers coming away with a few spots of blood. Not a dream then. He lay back, leaving the candle lit, and drifted into fitful sleep...
After his restless night he ordered the entire ship to be searched and decided, eventually, *not* to whip Mercer for his negligence. Beckett was entirely unsurprised when it was reported that the ship was entirely free of anything...unusual...
Thanks ^_^
Toodles
xXx