Pirates v Ninja!
Title: Fight on the Fringe (1/7)
Rating: PG-13 (for light swearing, references to sex)
Warnings: ... SPAH!verse Pirates v. Ninja. ... I think that covers pretty much everything.
... Also, Lee.
Word Count (this chapter): 4,192
Summary: Jim, the infamous captain of the pirate ship Tik-Tok (they forgot the c's), docks in Nassau to sell his crew's newest haul. Blaine, the leader of a renegade cabal of multi-national ninja originally belonging to the Takashima dojo, currently under hire by the British government to take out the Tik-Tok and its crew, finally tracks him down. Simple enough, right? ... Yeah. Right.
Pairings: Kapashima (main); also, Klaine, Paisley (Gary/Dorian), and bromantic Wesvid and Leric. Also, possible Lim and other pairings later.
Chapter One
Part One
“Yar har, me hearties. Avast! Ahoy! All aboard the starboard bow! Et cetera, et cetera. Go to town on it, snap snap.”
“If you don’t shut your mouth, oh captain, my captain,” Kurt said, “I will mutiny. Don’t think that I won’t.” The boat listed to the side and he shot a sharp glare across the deck. “Boys! What did I say will happen if you listen to your captain when he’s being an idiot?”
“The ship will sink,” Jerry said promptly. “We will all drown, and it will be our own fault, because we will be being stupid.”
“Good work, Jerry,” Kurt said. “You have proven that you can memorize the things I say. One day, you might even graduate to thinking for yourself. I look forward to that day.”
“You won’t mutiny,” Jim said comfortably, flopping on the wooden chair he had made Lee carry up on the deck from the galley. He waved an airy hand at the boys. “At ease, gentlemen! And you won’t mutiny, Kurt, because guess who just got you a wardrobe full of the Prince of Wales’ newest threads? Oh captain, your captain, that’s who.”
“You’re lucky I like you,” Kurt said, glaring to where James was being a little slow in moving the sail. “Hurry up!” he snapped.
“He will skin you with a golden fork!” Jim shouted after. “We have golden forks now, because I am the greatest captain ever.”
“You are,” Aaron breathed, almost dropping his end of the line. “The best ever.”
Jim preened, shirtlessly.
“He’s okay,” Kurt corrected. “And you’re going to burn if you’re not careful, oh great and flawless captain.”
“I do not burn,” Jim said. “I tan. Like a Grecian god.” He brightened, shading his eyes as he peered up at the crow’s nest. “Tiki! Tiki, come down! I have need of you.”
Pratik looked down, squinting a little after spending so long watching the horizon. Jim was beckoning him down with fingers practically coated in golden rings, the fading sun catching on the dull yellow.
Pratik grabbed a rope and carefully started the long way down. Maybe this meant his shift on watch was over. That would be nice. Pratik didn’t really like being on watch. He was an engineer for a reason. The sound of the warm wood, the water rushing past… that all made sense. The silence of watch was terrible and oppressive, a separation from the music of the world.
He jumped from the end of the lowest rope, landing on the deck with a thump. Kurt winced and turned away. He often did, when looking at Pratik. Pratik didn’t really know why. He plucked at the hem of his turquoise tunic hesitantly as he stopped by Jim’s feet. “Yeah?”
“So, my dearest Tiki, guess what I have for you?” Jim began, beaming.
“Um,” Pratik said. “New tools?” They had lost their best wrench in the most recent skirmish. The captain of the other ship had tried to come aboard and take Danny hostage, and Dorian had thrown the wrench at his head. The man had gone overboard, but so had the wrench.
“Even better!” Jim sing-songed, practically vibrating. “Guess guess guess.”
“Again, Aaron?” Kurt said as one end of the line went whipping to the deck.
Pratik paused. “It’s not another serving wench, is it?” he asked, quietly desperate. “Jim, please tell me there’s no one tied to my bed.” One day. Jim would accept that he didn’t care about sex. That would be a really, really good day.
“Not this time,” Jim said, wilting a little before he grinned. “But we will make you a real man yet, Tiki, I promise. No, even better. I’m declaring Jeff to be on watch. I can do that, I’m captain. You have a present in your room, you have to go see!”
“… And it’s not a serving wench?” Pratik repeated as Jeff immediately scurried up the mast, ignoring Kurt’s, “WAIT, Jeff, don’t just drop what you’re working on mid-task, Damien, please take up the slack there, Jim, you are lucky I am a forgiving man.”
“Not a serving wench,” Jim promised. “Go see, go see, go see!”
Pratik sighed and headed down the stairs.
“Fucking high-class food,” he heard Lee muttering from the kitchens. “Don’t know how it’s supposed to be fucking cooked. Crew’s going to get it all in one fucking stew, and they better be fucking grateful.”
“Keep out the stuff Pratik’s allergic to,” Danny said, voice a soft murmur.
“Who the fuck do you think I am?”
Pratik kept going down, past the line of bunks where the boys stayed, past the short hallway that led to the officers’ rooms, down into the belly of the boat.
Liam was still sorting through the cargo, just like he had been when Pratik had left him, hours ago, although David had replaced Jim as his help, probably when Jim got bored.
“No wrench?” Pratik asked quietly.
Liam shook his head.
“Cool maps, though!” David said, brightly. “I think we have our next five or six destinations picked out.”
“That’s good,” Pratik said absently. He paused. “Um, there were no… people in the cargo, right?”
Liam shook his head, giving Pratik a sympathetic look. “No one asked to be tied to your bed this time, I promise.”
Pratik finally let out his breath. “Good,” he said. “I’ll just be…” He gestured towards the two small doors tucked away at one end, which hid the tiny, closet-like bedrooms he and Liam used.
Liam nodded, lifting up what looked to be a rolled up tapestry and frowning at whatever he saw underneath.
“I wish Jim’d find a serving wench who wanted to be tied to my bed,” David said.
“There’s only one serving wench you want tied to your bed, and that’s Miranda,” Liam said, moving on to what looked like a full suit of plate armor.
David sighed wistfully. “She’s just so far away.”
Pratik lit a taper from the lantern hanging in the center of the room, padding over to his door with it. Taking one last, deep, calming breath, he opened the door.
His breath caught in his throat.
Laying in the center of the straw-padded slat that served him as a bed was a beautifully carved Spanish guitar. It sang without needing the touch of human fingers, humming with the promise of the music within.
It was almost glowing.
Pratik’s fingers itched.
He couldn’t remember walking to his bed. He was just suddenly there, kneeling at the edge, fingers hovering above the strings, the neck, the body.
It was calling to him.
Pratik picked up the guitar, and played.
--
Two days later, he was clutching the guitar to his chest like a shield as Nickin’ Noah gave it a once over, as though trying to calculate just how much he could sell it for.
“Eyes up here, Noah,” Liam said patiently, stepping between Pratik and Liam’s old friend. “Leave Pratik alone.”
“Just a bunch of wood anyway,” Noah said with a shrug. “Piece of junk. Probably compensating for something.” Pratik felt himself turning red and shrank back, only Liam’s grip on his wrist stopping him from running away entirely. “You were asking, Shrieker?”
“Does Tina’s have any new girls since the last time we docked?” Dorian asked from behind Pratik’s shoulder.
Noah snickered. “Don’t know the last time you might have docked, shortstuff,” he said, grabbing himself vulgarly. Pratik felt his face go even redder.
“Guess we’re just going to find out from Tina, then,” Liam said, turning away. “Thanks for nothing, Noah.” The gold coin he had idly been flipping through his fingers disappeared somewhere on his person as he turned away.
“Wait!” Noah said, ducking back ahead of them. “Might have some information. Maybe.”
“Oh?” Liam asked.
Noah shoved his hands into his ratty pockets. “New girl showed up a month or so after you guys last sailed out. Oriental type. Tall, smokin’ hot.” He drew an hourglass shape with his hands, whistling at his own illustration. “Weird thing is, chick doesn’t talk. Hear she’s an animal in bed, but totally mute. Folks round here have started calling her the Midnight Shadow.”
Liam paused, but Noah didn’t seem inclined to continue. “Fair enough,” Liam said, tossing him the coin. “I’ll talk to Tina about it.”
“Don’t spend it all in one place,” Dorian said serenely. Nickin’ Noah gave him the finger before fading back into the shadows of the closest ally. Dorian waited until he was gone before turning back to Liam. “What do you think?”
“Not surprised Tina’s bringing on more Asian girls,” Liam said, quietly. “She’s always been into helping them out. I wouldn’t make too much out of it. Tina wouldn’t hire someone who was government. She’s got our backs.”
“If you say so,” Dorian said. “To the home of the women of...” he glanced at Pratik, grinning, “amazingly excellent repute, then.”
“Guess so,” Liam said. “After all, captain’s orders.”
“Oh, look, an orphan in distress,” Pratik tried. Liam’s grip on his wrist didn’t slacken. “Someone better save it, or something.”
“Captain wants you getting laid,” Liam said patiently.
“Don’t want to,” Pratik said, clutching his guitar closer to him, like it would be any sort of protection.
“Captain says,” Liam repeated.
Dorian clapped Pratik on the back, nearly making him bruise his jaw on the neck of the guitar. “It’s fun, man, I promise.”
Tina’s House of Whores, as the building was most often referred to, was one of the better-run brothels in the city. Both the building and the girls were kept clean and well taken care of, and the girls usually had training in conversation and music, as well as the more job-related arts. Tina herself was originally the illegitimate child of an English nobleman and, according to rumor, the empress of China. No one actually knew the truth.
No one, that was, except for Liam.
The two had grown up together in the allies of London, and, when Liam had gone to sea, Tina had gone with him. All the other details of their relationship were the realm of rumor and fantasy, as neither Tina nor Liam were willing to talk about it.
All Pratik knew was that Jim’s crew always got a really, really good deal at Tina’s.
… Not that he knew from experience or anything. He just heard things.
The building always smelled like foreign spices and flowers. Pratik tried to make himself as small as possible as Dorian steered him in through the door. He was normally allowed to sit in the entrance way and drink something fruity and sweet, the kind of drinks Tina would make only for him, but not today. Today, Jim had been adamant.
“Hello?” Liam called out as soon as they got inside.
“Liam!” Tina called, hurrying out of the sitting room in a very unlady-like way, nearly tackling him over with her hug. “It’s been months!” She hit his shoulder. “You could have died, you ass.”
“Hey, Tina,” Liam said, hugging her. “Everyone doing well?”
“Santana’s been pining,” Tina said, rolling her eyes. “She’s with someone now, but if you wait around, I’m sure she’ll be more than willing to show you how much she missed you.”
“I’d like to talk to you first, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.” Tina looked past Liam, seeing Pratik and Dorian for the first time. “Hello, boys. Good to see you all, of course. Should I get San to mix you a drink before she gets too distracted with Liam, Pratik?”
“Not today!” Dorian said, brightly. “Captain wants Pratik to loosen up.”
Tina raised an eyebrow. “Does he now?” She shook her head. “Your captain needs to stop by some time. I’d like to talk to him.”
“You know how he is with…” Liam gestured vaguely, taking in the entire room.
Tina snorted. “I know. And believe me, I’d be more than willing to keep him on my side of the business. He’d make more than half the girls in my employ put together, I’m sure.” She sighed. “Well. A girl for Pratik, then?”
Pratik could feel the red spreading from his cheeks down to his neck. “Um,” he said, clutching the guitar even more tightly. He briefly worried that sweat might damage the wood, but couldn’t loosen his fists even when he tried.
“We heard of one when we were walking up,” Dorian suddenly said. “Didn’t catch her name, but people are calling her the Midnight Shadow.”
Tina gave Pratik a slow once-over before grinning. “Yes, that could work nicely. I won’t have to worry about noise, in any case.”
“No,” Pratik said. “No, that’s okay, I don’t mind.”
“We can discuss fees elsewhere?” Liam said, ignoring him.
“Of course,” Tina said, also ignoring him.
“I want Quinn,” Dorian informed her, continuing the trend.
“Of course you do,” Tina said, rolling her eyes. “She was just saying it had been too long since your last game of chess."
It wasn’t fair, Pratik wanted to shout. Liam and Dorian liked sex. But Liam would get to talk to Tina about things in Nassau and find out useful information and hang out with his friend. And Dorian would get to play chess and talk to Quinn about things in the governor’s palace, because Quinn was just spying for Tina and everyone in the world knew it, except Governor Hudson, who was head over heels for her. And Pratik didn’t like sex, and he had his new guitar, and he would’ve been perfectly happy sitting in the sitting room plucking away for hours.
“Shadow for Pratik, then,” Tina said, disappearing back into the sitting room. “Quinn for Dorian.”
He should throw Jim overboard, Pratik thought morosely, and wondered if maybe the girl who didn’t talk would be offended if he just wanted to play his guitar at her.
But then she came out, head bowed down demurely, and the guitar almost slipped out of Pratik’s fingers.
Part two!
Rating: PG-13 (for light swearing, references to sex)
Warnings: ... SPAH!verse Pirates v. Ninja. ... I think that covers pretty much everything.
... Also, Lee.
Word Count (this chapter): 4,192
Summary: Jim, the infamous captain of the pirate ship Tik-Tok (they forgot the c's), docks in Nassau to sell his crew's newest haul. Blaine, the leader of a renegade cabal of multi-national ninja originally belonging to the Takashima dojo, currently under hire by the British government to take out the Tik-Tok and its crew, finally tracks him down. Simple enough, right? ... Yeah. Right.
Pairings: Kapashima (main); also, Klaine, Paisley (Gary/Dorian), and bromantic Wesvid and Leric. Also, possible Lim and other pairings later.
Chapter One
Part One
“Yar har, me hearties. Avast! Ahoy! All aboard the starboard bow! Et cetera, et cetera. Go to town on it, snap snap.”
“If you don’t shut your mouth, oh captain, my captain,” Kurt said, “I will mutiny. Don’t think that I won’t.” The boat listed to the side and he shot a sharp glare across the deck. “Boys! What did I say will happen if you listen to your captain when he’s being an idiot?”
“The ship will sink,” Jerry said promptly. “We will all drown, and it will be our own fault, because we will be being stupid.”
“Good work, Jerry,” Kurt said. “You have proven that you can memorize the things I say. One day, you might even graduate to thinking for yourself. I look forward to that day.”
“You won’t mutiny,” Jim said comfortably, flopping on the wooden chair he had made Lee carry up on the deck from the galley. He waved an airy hand at the boys. “At ease, gentlemen! And you won’t mutiny, Kurt, because guess who just got you a wardrobe full of the Prince of Wales’ newest threads? Oh captain, your captain, that’s who.”
“You’re lucky I like you,” Kurt said, glaring to where James was being a little slow in moving the sail. “Hurry up!” he snapped.
“He will skin you with a golden fork!” Jim shouted after. “We have golden forks now, because I am the greatest captain ever.”
“You are,” Aaron breathed, almost dropping his end of the line. “The best ever.”
Jim preened, shirtlessly.
“He’s okay,” Kurt corrected. “And you’re going to burn if you’re not careful, oh great and flawless captain.”
“I do not burn,” Jim said. “I tan. Like a Grecian god.” He brightened, shading his eyes as he peered up at the crow’s nest. “Tiki! Tiki, come down! I have need of you.”
Pratik looked down, squinting a little after spending so long watching the horizon. Jim was beckoning him down with fingers practically coated in golden rings, the fading sun catching on the dull yellow.
Pratik grabbed a rope and carefully started the long way down. Maybe this meant his shift on watch was over. That would be nice. Pratik didn’t really like being on watch. He was an engineer for a reason. The sound of the warm wood, the water rushing past… that all made sense. The silence of watch was terrible and oppressive, a separation from the music of the world.
He jumped from the end of the lowest rope, landing on the deck with a thump. Kurt winced and turned away. He often did, when looking at Pratik. Pratik didn’t really know why. He plucked at the hem of his turquoise tunic hesitantly as he stopped by Jim’s feet. “Yeah?”
“So, my dearest Tiki, guess what I have for you?” Jim began, beaming.
“Um,” Pratik said. “New tools?” They had lost their best wrench in the most recent skirmish. The captain of the other ship had tried to come aboard and take Danny hostage, and Dorian had thrown the wrench at his head. The man had gone overboard, but so had the wrench.
“Even better!” Jim sing-songed, practically vibrating. “Guess guess guess.”
“Again, Aaron?” Kurt said as one end of the line went whipping to the deck.
Pratik paused. “It’s not another serving wench, is it?” he asked, quietly desperate. “Jim, please tell me there’s no one tied to my bed.” One day. Jim would accept that he didn’t care about sex. That would be a really, really good day.
“Not this time,” Jim said, wilting a little before he grinned. “But we will make you a real man yet, Tiki, I promise. No, even better. I’m declaring Jeff to be on watch. I can do that, I’m captain. You have a present in your room, you have to go see!”
“… And it’s not a serving wench?” Pratik repeated as Jeff immediately scurried up the mast, ignoring Kurt’s, “WAIT, Jeff, don’t just drop what you’re working on mid-task, Damien, please take up the slack there, Jim, you are lucky I am a forgiving man.”
“Not a serving wench,” Jim promised. “Go see, go see, go see!”
Pratik sighed and headed down the stairs.
“Fucking high-class food,” he heard Lee muttering from the kitchens. “Don’t know how it’s supposed to be fucking cooked. Crew’s going to get it all in one fucking stew, and they better be fucking grateful.”
“Keep out the stuff Pratik’s allergic to,” Danny said, voice a soft murmur.
“Who the fuck do you think I am?”
Pratik kept going down, past the line of bunks where the boys stayed, past the short hallway that led to the officers’ rooms, down into the belly of the boat.
Liam was still sorting through the cargo, just like he had been when Pratik had left him, hours ago, although David had replaced Jim as his help, probably when Jim got bored.
“No wrench?” Pratik asked quietly.
Liam shook his head.
“Cool maps, though!” David said, brightly. “I think we have our next five or six destinations picked out.”
“That’s good,” Pratik said absently. He paused. “Um, there were no… people in the cargo, right?”
Liam shook his head, giving Pratik a sympathetic look. “No one asked to be tied to your bed this time, I promise.”
Pratik finally let out his breath. “Good,” he said. “I’ll just be…” He gestured towards the two small doors tucked away at one end, which hid the tiny, closet-like bedrooms he and Liam used.
Liam nodded, lifting up what looked to be a rolled up tapestry and frowning at whatever he saw underneath.
“I wish Jim’d find a serving wench who wanted to be tied to my bed,” David said.
“There’s only one serving wench you want tied to your bed, and that’s Miranda,” Liam said, moving on to what looked like a full suit of plate armor.
David sighed wistfully. “She’s just so far away.”
Pratik lit a taper from the lantern hanging in the center of the room, padding over to his door with it. Taking one last, deep, calming breath, he opened the door.
His breath caught in his throat.
Laying in the center of the straw-padded slat that served him as a bed was a beautifully carved Spanish guitar. It sang without needing the touch of human fingers, humming with the promise of the music within.
It was almost glowing.
Pratik’s fingers itched.
He couldn’t remember walking to his bed. He was just suddenly there, kneeling at the edge, fingers hovering above the strings, the neck, the body.
It was calling to him.
Pratik picked up the guitar, and played.
--
Two days later, he was clutching the guitar to his chest like a shield as Nickin’ Noah gave it a once over, as though trying to calculate just how much he could sell it for.
“Eyes up here, Noah,” Liam said patiently, stepping between Pratik and Liam’s old friend. “Leave Pratik alone.”
“Just a bunch of wood anyway,” Noah said with a shrug. “Piece of junk. Probably compensating for something.” Pratik felt himself turning red and shrank back, only Liam’s grip on his wrist stopping him from running away entirely. “You were asking, Shrieker?”
“Does Tina’s have any new girls since the last time we docked?” Dorian asked from behind Pratik’s shoulder.
Noah snickered. “Don’t know the last time you might have docked, shortstuff,” he said, grabbing himself vulgarly. Pratik felt his face go even redder.
“Guess we’re just going to find out from Tina, then,” Liam said, turning away. “Thanks for nothing, Noah.” The gold coin he had idly been flipping through his fingers disappeared somewhere on his person as he turned away.
“Wait!” Noah said, ducking back ahead of them. “Might have some information. Maybe.”
“Oh?” Liam asked.
Noah shoved his hands into his ratty pockets. “New girl showed up a month or so after you guys last sailed out. Oriental type. Tall, smokin’ hot.” He drew an hourglass shape with his hands, whistling at his own illustration. “Weird thing is, chick doesn’t talk. Hear she’s an animal in bed, but totally mute. Folks round here have started calling her the Midnight Shadow.”
Liam paused, but Noah didn’t seem inclined to continue. “Fair enough,” Liam said, tossing him the coin. “I’ll talk to Tina about it.”
“Don’t spend it all in one place,” Dorian said serenely. Nickin’ Noah gave him the finger before fading back into the shadows of the closest ally. Dorian waited until he was gone before turning back to Liam. “What do you think?”
“Not surprised Tina’s bringing on more Asian girls,” Liam said, quietly. “She’s always been into helping them out. I wouldn’t make too much out of it. Tina wouldn’t hire someone who was government. She’s got our backs.”
“If you say so,” Dorian said. “To the home of the women of...” he glanced at Pratik, grinning, “amazingly excellent repute, then.”
“Guess so,” Liam said. “After all, captain’s orders.”
“Oh, look, an orphan in distress,” Pratik tried. Liam’s grip on his wrist didn’t slacken. “Someone better save it, or something.”
“Captain wants you getting laid,” Liam said patiently.
“Don’t want to,” Pratik said, clutching his guitar closer to him, like it would be any sort of protection.
“Captain says,” Liam repeated.
Dorian clapped Pratik on the back, nearly making him bruise his jaw on the neck of the guitar. “It’s fun, man, I promise.”
Tina’s House of Whores, as the building was most often referred to, was one of the better-run brothels in the city. Both the building and the girls were kept clean and well taken care of, and the girls usually had training in conversation and music, as well as the more job-related arts. Tina herself was originally the illegitimate child of an English nobleman and, according to rumor, the empress of China. No one actually knew the truth.
No one, that was, except for Liam.
The two had grown up together in the allies of London, and, when Liam had gone to sea, Tina had gone with him. All the other details of their relationship were the realm of rumor and fantasy, as neither Tina nor Liam were willing to talk about it.
All Pratik knew was that Jim’s crew always got a really, really good deal at Tina’s.
… Not that he knew from experience or anything. He just heard things.
The building always smelled like foreign spices and flowers. Pratik tried to make himself as small as possible as Dorian steered him in through the door. He was normally allowed to sit in the entrance way and drink something fruity and sweet, the kind of drinks Tina would make only for him, but not today. Today, Jim had been adamant.
“Hello?” Liam called out as soon as they got inside.
“Liam!” Tina called, hurrying out of the sitting room in a very unlady-like way, nearly tackling him over with her hug. “It’s been months!” She hit his shoulder. “You could have died, you ass.”
“Hey, Tina,” Liam said, hugging her. “Everyone doing well?”
“Santana’s been pining,” Tina said, rolling her eyes. “She’s with someone now, but if you wait around, I’m sure she’ll be more than willing to show you how much she missed you.”
“I’d like to talk to you first, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.” Tina looked past Liam, seeing Pratik and Dorian for the first time. “Hello, boys. Good to see you all, of course. Should I get San to mix you a drink before she gets too distracted with Liam, Pratik?”
“Not today!” Dorian said, brightly. “Captain wants Pratik to loosen up.”
Tina raised an eyebrow. “Does he now?” She shook her head. “Your captain needs to stop by some time. I’d like to talk to him.”
“You know how he is with…” Liam gestured vaguely, taking in the entire room.
Tina snorted. “I know. And believe me, I’d be more than willing to keep him on my side of the business. He’d make more than half the girls in my employ put together, I’m sure.” She sighed. “Well. A girl for Pratik, then?”
Pratik could feel the red spreading from his cheeks down to his neck. “Um,” he said, clutching the guitar even more tightly. He briefly worried that sweat might damage the wood, but couldn’t loosen his fists even when he tried.
“We heard of one when we were walking up,” Dorian suddenly said. “Didn’t catch her name, but people are calling her the Midnight Shadow.”
Tina gave Pratik a slow once-over before grinning. “Yes, that could work nicely. I won’t have to worry about noise, in any case.”
“No,” Pratik said. “No, that’s okay, I don’t mind.”
“We can discuss fees elsewhere?” Liam said, ignoring him.
“Of course,” Tina said, also ignoring him.
“I want Quinn,” Dorian informed her, continuing the trend.
“Of course you do,” Tina said, rolling her eyes. “She was just saying it had been too long since your last game of chess."
It wasn’t fair, Pratik wanted to shout. Liam and Dorian liked sex. But Liam would get to talk to Tina about things in Nassau and find out useful information and hang out with his friend. And Dorian would get to play chess and talk to Quinn about things in the governor’s palace, because Quinn was just spying for Tina and everyone in the world knew it, except Governor Hudson, who was head over heels for her. And Pratik didn’t like sex, and he had his new guitar, and he would’ve been perfectly happy sitting in the sitting room plucking away for hours.
“Shadow for Pratik, then,” Tina said, disappearing back into the sitting room. “Quinn for Dorian.”
He should throw Jim overboard, Pratik thought morosely, and wondered if maybe the girl who didn’t talk would be offended if he just wanted to play his guitar at her.
But then she came out, head bowed down demurely, and the guitar almost slipped out of Pratik’s fingers.
Part two!