I can has journal.

And lo! There was chapter two. =D

Rat was hard pressed to keep up with his much smaller companion as she darted through the streets of Nassau. He had clearly not taken into account that one so petite could move so quickly. His long legs were having a bit of trouble matching the pace; so much so that he had to jog to make sure he didn’t lose her. Charlie’s strides were purposeful, lengthy and quick, and she turned corners with such speedy precision that Rat had to fight to stay close behind her. She had promised they were only going a few streets away, but already the young man was out of breath.

“Charlie! Can we slow down just a moment?” Rat took hold of her sleeve and pulled her to a stop, taking this moment to catch his breath. “Where, exactly, are we going? The dock is that way.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “I very much doubt we will find a suitable vessel docked directly in the middle of town.”

“Well, we’re going to need help in attaining that vessel, are we not?” Charlie plucked Rat’s hand off her sleeve. “We can’t hope to commandeer a vessel all by ourselves.”

Rat’s brow furrowed in confusion. She had neglected to mention that they were going to apply for help. He had assumed they were going to acquire materials, not aid. “I didn’t think you knew anyone in Nassau.”

“Only one,” she said enigmatically, taking hold of his wrist. “Come on, Ratty, we haven’t got all night.”

“Hold on,” said Rat, not budging despite her ceaseless tugging. “Who is this person, and how do we know we can trust him?” Charlie blinked at him, her eyebrows rising. She seemed to skim over the question completely, though whether this was purposefully or naturally done, Rat was not entirely sure.

“It’s funny how you automatically assume that this person is male.”

“Charlie.”

Charlie huffed and let her hands drop. “Jon, he’s just someone I know who lives in the area who has contacts. Trying to take a ship by ourselves is near enough suicide. Can’t you just trust me? Just this once?”

“Trust you?” There was almost amusement in his voice and a sort-of smile twisted his lips. “The last time I heard that, I got my hand stuck in a lobster trap – with the lobster still inside.”

“Well, you just weren’t trusting me the right way...”

“Charlie!”

“Alright, alright! Fine!” Charlie threw her hands up in surrender, sighing as Rat folded his arms across his slim chest. “His name is Samuel. He owns a brothel just around the corner from here, and don’t turn your nose up before you’ve even met him!” she added, seeing the look on her friend’s face. “He’s lovely. Sometimes.”

Rat sighed, raising his eyes to the heavens once more and shaking his head. He seemed to be doing that a lot recently. Whatever compelled him to join Charlie in her adventures, it certainly wasn’t accompanied by divine providence. “And we can trust him because… ?”

“Because he’s… uh…” Charlie scratched the back of her head, looking at the ground. This could only end badly. “He’s my brother.”

There was a long pause before Rat suddenly exploded angrily: “What?!”

“Shhhh!” Charlie took hold of his coat and pulled him into a nearby alley, out of the sight of anyone who may peer out of their windows. They were met with the acrid stench of the open air drains that ran between the houses, and Charlie was hard pressed not to step on any rodents. This was clearly not the most fashionable part of town. She made sure to check the coast was clear before releasing Rat and looking up at him. He was still glowering furiously at her, and it perforated even the darkness of the alley. “Do you want to tell all of Nassau our business?”

“You never mentioned a brother,” he said in a low voice laced with acid. Lying, or withholding the truth, never sat well with Jonathan; especially not between friends. Charlie bit her lip.

“I’m sorry... he just never came up...”

“Never came up?!” he snapped, his voice strained with the effort of keeping quiet. “Charlie, the figures have gone into the thousands, the amount of times I’ve asked you about your family. You talked about your mother, you talked about yourself, but never a brother!”

“Well, I...” Charlie was stuck. She knew why he was angry, any idiot could see that, but she could also see the hurt there. Why hadn’t she just told him? She’d had plenty of opportunity. It just never seemed to fit. Rat’s own family had been so small, and he had no one left. She thought it might have hurt more for him to learn that she had someone to go to in hard times while he had no one. In her slightly muddled brain, this seemed to make sense. She sighed softly and looked down at her feet just in time to watch a rat scuttle over her boot. “He’s my twin.”

Rat took a long breath through his nose, trying to calm himself down. “You lied to me, Charlie. You don’t lie to me.”

“I didn’t lie!” Charlie said defensively, a little louder than was prudent. She checked herself and lowered her voice. “You never asked me whether or not I had siblings.”

“That’s because it’s a question that people with siblings usually ask!” he glared. “What else have you kept from me?”

“Nothing! Rat, I promise...” She reached out to take his hand but it held it out of her reach, his look one of disappointment. His tongue nudged at the inside of his cheek as he fought to quell any nasty comments he might have made.

“Just... let’s get him, shall we? Before our window of opportunity closes.” He made a gesture for her to go ahead of him, his eyes steely. Charlie puffed out a breath, accepting that Rat was in no mood to be apologised to yet, and headed around the corner in front of him.

They had been only paces away from the establishment, and once they were standing in front of it, Rat frowned at the shabby facade of the building. Made of wood and brick, much of it in need of repair, it matched the rest of the area – dark, dull and lacking in any sort of refinery. The wooden shutters on the windows were closed and only muffled sounds of life could be heard through the cracks. Rat sighed, then muttered: “Only a Sparrow could run a brothel at the age of seventeen…”

Charlie ignored him, balling her fist and thumping on the heavy wooden door. The giggling from within stilled for a moment as someone released the bolt on the door and opened it a fraction. A woman was standing there, arrayed richly in jewels and dressed in a very vivid peacock-blue dress with the skirt hitched up to the thigh. She was a glimpse of the pearl that lay within the crusty shell of the building. The green eyes of the blond woman slowly raked over the pair of them, clearly not impressed with what she saw.

“Yes?” Her voice was soft and accented. French, possibly. Her eyebrow lifted sleekly.

“Er, yes…” Charlie began, rather thrown off by the beauty of the woman and brightness of the dress. “We’d like to speak with Mr. Crow, please…”

“Keeping with the bird theme, then…” Rat mumbled. Charlie nudged him. The whore opened the door more fully, leaning against the frame with a casual elegance that seemed to come naturally to her. Her narrowed eyes were fixed on Charlie’s.

“What would you be wanting with ‘im, cherie?” Definitely French, then.

“Can I just talk to him?” Charlie tone was reaching ‘impatient’ and her brow furrowed. She didn’t have time to bandy words with a whore while there was commandeering to be done. “Please?”

The blond clicked her tongue agitatedly and pushed herself away from the doorframe. “’Oo shall I say is calling?”

“Tell him his sister wants a word.” That sent the girl’s pale eyebrows shooting upwards.

“Wait ‘ere,” she said, shutting the door again and locking it once more. Charlie looked at Rat and shrugged. Rat, however, was still not in the best of moods and it showed. He was scowling at the wall next to the door, apparently refusing to look at her. Charlie just sighed and let him sulk. Hopefully he would pull himself out of it soon.

The door suddenly swung open again and in place of the pretty blond whore stood a disgruntled-looking Samuel, who was undoubtedly dashing in his own right. His dark hair was pulled away from his face in a sort of scruffy half-ponytail, a spattering of facial hair was beginning to make a goatee, and his dark eyes were focused on his sister. It was only now that she had met her father that she saw just how much her twin resembled their sire.

“What the bloody hell do you want?” his eyes flicked over her, much as the whore’s had done. “You look bloody awful.”

“… Lovely to see you too, Sam.” Charlie could see that she had clearly interrupted something important. His shirt was ruffled and open to the waist and he looked less than composed. And slightly less than dressed. It would hardly take a great genius to figure out what he had been doing. Sam’s eyes flicked to Rat and an eyebrow rose. He nodded in his direction.

“Who’s your friend?”

Charlie silently brushed the question aside, not in the mood for introductions. “Sam, we need your help.”

“Ah, well, wouldn’t be the first time, would it?” Sam folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe nonchalantly. “What do you want? Money? Men? ... A bath?”

Cheeky bloody sod. Charlie was well aware that she was less than clean, but he didn’t have to point it out so bluntly. She scowled at him and drew herself up as high as she could. She still only came up to his nose. “I’d rather not discuss my business out here, if you don’t mind.” She pushed past him roughly, knocking him against the door in the process in her wake. Sam blinked, quite stunned.

“Oh please, come right in...” he muttered, scowling. He looked over at Rat, who had just the same expression. “You and me both, mate,” he said in agreement to an unspoken statement, then he moved forward and slung his arm around the taller man’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s see if one of my girls can’t put a smile on your face.”

Charlie had made her way inside, but now she was quite stuck. Her brother’s business was lushly furnished and bright, with silk probably all the way from China or something ridiculous, and all around were lounged prettily painted girls in various states of dress and undress, and they made Charlie feel like a weed in a rose garden. They were watching her like cats might watch a mouse; she could even see their tails flopping from side-to-side, ready to pounce.

“Mary!” Sam barked, making Charlie jump and clutch at her chest. A petite, dark-haired girl with the brightest blue eyes Charlie had ever seen trotted over to her employer and beamed at him. It was enough to make one sick. “Mary, my lovely, please take good care off...” he paused, blinked, and looked at his new friend. “What is your name, by the way?”

“It doesn’t matter,” the girl purred, immediately attaching herself to Rat, who seemed to be torn between happiness and terror at being accosted so. “Names can come later.” And she whisked him off before he even had a chance to voice objections, if he could indeed find any objections to voice at all.

“And Rose, darling, do please see to my sister. She’ll frighten the rats.”

Charlie turned on her brother, her scowl fierce. She neglected to notice the pale, redheaded girl who demurely approached her. “Look here, Samuel, we need to talk...”

“We will talk when you no longer offend my nostrils, sweet sister.”

Charlie probably would have given him a well-earned smack in the mouth if a gentle hand hadn’t wrapped itself around her arm and started to guide her away from her brother. She looked over at the young woman and tilted her head to the side, a quizzical frown in place. This one seemed a little different from the others. Her look was more sincere, her features not as striking, but it was her demureness that made her stand out. She had a gentle touch, and she guided Charlie up the stairs and into one of the rooms carefully.

It took time to fill the tub, but it took no time at all for Rose to get Sam’s sister into it. Charlie was left to her own devices (armed with soap, brushes and a cloth) as the girl looked at her clothes disapprovingly. They were so worn and soiled that there was no hope of restoring them to their original glory. She shook her head and set about trying to find her something more suitable. It wasn’t easy, since most of the clothing in the establishment consisted of big bejewelled dresses.

Charlie almost hated to admit it, but she was glad her brother had forced her into a bath. The hot water lifting the grime off her skin was a welcome feeling. Time was precious at that moment, but it almost didn’t matter as Rose emptied a jug of water over her head. She could feel the salt and sweat roll off her skin and it did her temper the world of good. She no longer felt like lumping Sam for delaying her plans. At least, she had felt that way until he decided to march right into the room without so much as a ‘by your leave’.

“What do you want, then?” he said shortly, apparently indifferent to his sister’s state of nakedness. His tone was curt and he was getting straight to the point. Obviously something was gnawing at him. Charlie just glowered at him, lifting her knees up to her chest and folding her arms over them to provide some sort of cover. “You disappear for months and then turn up again, asking for my help? What’s so urgent, Charlie, hmm?”

“I could have told you sooner,” Charlie said acidly, her glare burning a hole in his forehead, “if you hadn’t forced a bath on me.”

“Well, I’m here now,” he leaned back against an antique dresser, folding his arms across his chest and staring her down with a glare of his own. “I’m all ears, sister-dear.”

Charlie paused for a moment. The problem was: where to begin? Mentioning their father straight off the bat was probably not a good way of softening her brother up. She noticed that Rose had made a quiet exit while they conversed. It was probably wise, since this was likely to become a very heated conversation.

“I need help in commandeering a vessel,” she said at last, shifting slightly in the wooden bathtub. “Just a sloop, nothing too impressive, but I need manpower to take it. I thought you might know of some sailors who might be able to help.” Sam arched an eyebrow. “For payment, of course. Eventually.”

“And why would you want to commandeer a vessel?”

“... It’s something to do?”

“Charlotte.” Sam’s look reminded her just how bad a liar she was to people she cared for. Especially Sam. The disadvantage of being a twin was that you could automatically tell when the other was lying through his or her teeth, or at least trying to, in Charlie’s case. She sighed softly.

“Look, I just need a ship...”

“Why don’t you start with tell me where you’ve been these past months,” he said coldly. “And why you neglected to tell me, leaving me a scribbled note of farewell instead of taking the trouble to say goodbye.”

“Sam, I...”

“You could have died!” Sam suddenly shouted, propelling himself from the dresser and standing before her with fists clenched at his sides. “You could have drowned out on the sea and I wouldn’t have known! You could never have come back and I would have had to live with the fact that I never got to say goodbye to you!”

Tears pricked at Charlie’s eyes, whether from guilt or Sam’s screaming, not even she was sure. She averted her eyes, her breathing coming rapidly in an effort to stop herself from crying.

“Oh, don’t start that,” was the impatient response. At least he had stopped screaming for the time being. Charlie took a shaky breath and blinked rapidly.

“I’m sorry...”

Sam’s arms went back to being folded across his chest and he stared at his sister for a long time, willing his sense of relief at her being safe to overcome his anger for her leaving in the first place.

“Yes, well, I should think so, too,” he finally muttered, trying to hold on to his anger and indignation as long as possible. It didn’t last long as the first tear dripped onto his sister’s cheek. With a sigh, he crossed the small space between them and knelt beside the tub, putting himself back in her eye line. He pushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead. “Daft cow.”

Charlie sniffed loudly and wiped her cheeks, though it was quite fruitless, since her face was wet with bath water anyway. Sam smiled just a fraction, letting his hands drop from her head. “Get cleaned up, and then get some food down you. You’re as skinny as a scarecrow.” He braced his hands on his knees and pushed himself up to stand once again. He turned, as if to leave, but Charlie stopped him.

“Sam, that’s not everything.” She watched him turn and frown, and suddenly her stomach was in her feet. She felt like crying again simply because the worst of his temper was still to come. He folded his arms, silently waiting for her explanation. “I found him.”

Immediately his eyes narrowed to black slits and his arms unfolded, his hands ready to ball into fists. “Found who?”

“You know who, Sam,” she muttered, watching his eyes change from cold to hot in an instant. She braced herself, ready for another verbal onslaught of increased magnitude. She felt like gripping the sides of the tub for support.

“Let me see if I have this right,” Sam began, his voice like a glacier. “You ran off without so much as a ‘goodbye’ so you could flounce around the ocean looking for a man who couldn’t care if we were dead or alive?”

“You don’t know that...”

“Yes I do!” he exploded. The third explosion of the evening. Charlie seemed to have a knack with angering the men in her life at that moment. “We grew up in Tortuga, Charlie, and as I understand it he was a frequent visitor. How could it be that he never found us?”

“Tortuga is a big place, Sam, and I don’t think he goes there looking for potential bastard children!”

“No, clearly he goes there to make more!” That was a disquieting notion. He may not have gone there with that purpose in mind, but it may well have been the outcome of a few of his other conquests.

“You’re not being fair!”

“Fair?! I’ll tell you what’s not fair. Sitting on a dock, staring out at sea and waiting for a father that would never come.”

“I was there, Sam, I know! I’ve gone through it too, but the difference is that I’m willing to give him a chance.” She was clearly not backing down on this one. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“Help you? Now? Ha!” Bitterness laced Sam’s voice, and it hurt Charlie to hear it. “I’m close to drowning you in the bloody bath, you traitorous wench!”

“... Fine.” Charlie gripped the sides of the wooden tub and pulled herself out of the water, no longer concerned with any sort of modesty. She was far too irate for that. So furious, in fact, that she could no longer bring herself to shout. “This is why I left without a word,” she snatched the towel Rose had left for her and wrapped it around her. “I knew you would be like this. You won’t even help me with the one thing I want-”

“Oh, of course,” Sam drawled, his body tense with emotion. “It’s always about what Charlie wants. She has no care for who she may be injuring in the process.”

“It’s what pirates do, isn’t it?” she spat, just about ready to strangle him. “Act on selfish impulse?”

“Oh, so you’re a pirate now, are you? Did meeting dear Papa cause this sudden change in vocation?”

Charlie said nothing. She turned her back on him and resolutely stared at the wall, unwilling to respond to his accusation. Sam just bristled, and the air seemed to crackle with the energy. She could feel him glaring at her back, but she refused to turn.

“You know what?” he said at length, his voice back to its former chill. “I will help you, if only to get you out of my sight. If you’d rather be with him than me, then go, and don’t bother coming back.”

Charlie flinched as he slammed the door with a force that suggested it may just fall off its hinges next time someone tries to open it. This was not going well at all.