Charles Vane was evincing himself as the most dangerous man on Nassau, or short of that, the most powerful. There was talk in the streets of his apparent hold over Eleanor Guthrie, despite the incident involving Max a few weeks prior. He had a savage new crew he'd won the Captaincy of my crawling out of a grave to put an unfortunate man right into it. That feat alone was enough to get him deferential treatment on the beach, but his power in the Nassau's political sewer came from his occupation of the fort.

Jack hoped he would rot in the damn thing for what Vane's blacklist had done to his life. The occasional unprovoked attack, the spitting and general mistreatment of his person that had become so commonplace since the circumstances surrounding the deaths of his crew mates had come to light had been troubling, but nothing worse than he'd been accustomed to on the Ranger. The damning part was the fact that no pirate would sail with two crew killers despite Anne's skill with a blade (or maybe in part because of it) and his own aptitude for strategic piracy.

He'd left the brothel at mid-morning, already in a sour mood from Max's victory in capturing Anne's attention. He'd begun trying to poach disenfranchised veterans from larger well known crews. His strategy was simple, dazzle them with the possibilities, hint at a few of the leads he'd gathered on his own, emphasize the small size of the crew, explain that it was so they could all have a larger share of the profit and as they were agreeing slip in the tidbit about him captaining the crew. He always lost them after that. The promise of gold was not enough to overcome losing the trust of the pirating fraternity in the Caribbean. Even among the slimiest of men, brazen sadists sailing with unsuccessful crews, men with heinous things tattooed on them, murderous freed slaves looking to reenact the horrors visited upon them, the association of his name with the moniker crew killer turned them away.

It was reaching mid-day when Jack finally spotted Anne as he walked away from a group of small time pirates. He fixed her with a discontented look and walked right past her. She fell into step behind him, as she'd done thousands of times before. He was headed back to the brothel to get a drink and maybe sort something between him and Anne. Max was dangerous, in a way that was almost beyond comprehension. With Anne's emotional growth stunted as it was she would never stand up to manipulation.

They traveled most of the way in silence but Anne broke it after it was clear he was lost in his own head. "Who were they?"

"Men wise enough to know that on this island three things are known to be true and number two is that Jack Rackham is a crew killer." He replied unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice, glancing back at her.

"It'll turn."

"I admire your optimism."

"Why didn't you wait for me?"

"You were preoccupied." Jack snapped.

"If you're angry about the whore and me just fucking say so!" Anne snapped back. He rounded on her expecting anger, expecting the flare of fury across her face. He didn't expect confusion and the beginnings of a frown, the hint of shame stealing the luster from her eye.

"If you have an itch that needs scratching, go with God. My trouble isn't that she can play with the thing between your legs better than I, but the one between your ears." Anne pressed her lips together, he gaze sliding to the wood beneath their feet. "Do you honestly not see it? That your judgment with her is clouded, at best. She knows it and intends to use it to drive a wedge between us. Because it is painfully obvious to me!" He raised his voice on the last sentence, but he hadn't meant to. "And there's nothing I can do to counter it, when I'm on the wrong side of that door." His tone was just shy of plaintive.

Anne looked up at him, her expression guarded. "Course I can see it." She intoned.

"Then why don't you stop it?" Anne knew how to deal with danger, how to make threats disappear, but she was playing with a viper now?

She looked away again. "I can't." He couldn't speak, only stare unbelieving at her. Anne was defeated, not by a brute or a silver tonged miscreant but by her own lust. She was playing a game she knew the risks of but was seeking no reward. He turned around and headed to the brothel again.

The entire journey he was still unable to form words or plans to fix this- whatever Max had done. Anne followed at his heels without a word. He was just beginning to wrap his mind around his new horror when Charles Vane invited him to drink.

"Join me!" The captain of, well, the Fort gestured to a seat at his table. "Won't you?" A request. Around them the chatter of flirting died away. Men turned to watch the unfolding scene. Still quite numb, Jack sat, though not without trepidation. Anne leered at him with mistrust, remaining standing until Charles directed a command at her. "Sit down."

"What's happening exactly?" Jack asked as she sank into the seat.

"I'm repairing your reputations, public display of reconciliation. So just there and smile-"Jack twitched his lips up into a facsimile of a smile. "And let it happen." Vane placed a cup in front of Anne before hoisting his own. "To Mr. Hormund," he glanced at Anne. "We hardly knew you." Jack took a sip with Charles. Vane looked at them in a manner that could have been amused. "Look at you two, every reason to run screaming from each other but you're still as thick as the moment I found you fucking behind the galley. You're liable to be the death of each other or we'll all end up working for you someday. Doubt there's any third outcome." Jack reached for his cup, his spirits raising. Charles no doubt wanted something of them, but working with Vane was better wasting away on land.

"Why?" He asked. "Why now?" He steeled himself for whatever his former Captain would request of him but Vane trained his gaze on the stairs-no- on Max who was descending them. She crossed the room to bend and whisper into Vane's ear. He frowned, the whore was playing a deeper game here. On the surface she was just protecting her interest, her share in the pirating endeavor that could not leave the ground with Charles. She'd known that this morning, might have let Jack waste his morning out of spite. No, that was paranoid but what else explained the timing?

"No shit." Van exhaled smoke from a cigar he must have lit while Jack's attention was elsewhere. He took a drag, regarded Max and then barked. "Stand up." Jack stood, Charles following and then Anne lunged to her feet, hand on her dagger in an instant. The crowd quieted around them again at the sound. Charles held his hand up, and turned his attention to Jack. Vane extended a hand to shake and Jack took it without hesitation, to find himself pulled into an uncomfortable embrace. They released one another, Charles turned to Max. "Will that do?" She nodded. "Congratulation Jack now you know what it's like to rise from the grave." His business concluded, Vance swaggered off leaving Max, Anne and himself to trade looks.

Max gave him a look that might have been smug before melting into the chattering crowd. She was working her way into every facet of his life, with unsettling speed and efficiency. She was so competent and intelligent. He was dancing on a knife's edge and either way was his ruin. There was no way he could extricate her from his life without damaging his profits or his relationship with Anne. He couldn't let her get in any farther either. A wrong step in either direction would ruin him. He felt a hand on his shoulder shove him into a chair. Anne pressed a mug into his hand. "You can over think what that meant later. Let's celebrate." She ordered, appearing across from him with her own drink.

Celebrating turned into planning. Anne wasn't talking much and there was only so long you could listen to pirates boast before your mind turned inward. He spent the next few hours in his head, putting together an idea, how he wanted to pay for the ship, who he wanted, and their preferred prey.

Before he knew it, the girls were lighting candles at nightfall. He was speaking aloud to Anne without realizing it. "We're gunna sail again." He could hardly contain his wonder. Anne set her mug down and headed for the stairs. As she went he felt the joy he'd been filled with begin to deflate.

"What the fuck you waitin' for?" He looked back at her, she smiled and inclined her head before continuing on. He drained his mug and set off after her, catching up in a stride and leading the way up the stairs.

At the top, Anne stopped at Max's door. Her gaze seemed to dare him to follow as she opened the doors and slid inside. He paused for a moment to consider, then followed Anne inside. Max was lighting a candle. "Did he see you come up?" She asked as the door opened, looking back when Anne remained silent. Jack lingered in the doorway as her eyes fell on him. He relished the confusion within them and stared back.

Either oblivious to or completely unaffected by the hostility in the air, Anne slipped off her shirt. Jack couldn't help it. He looked, having only seen the scarred flesh a handful of time and averted his eyes again with something akin to shame. Anne slid out of her trousers. Max met Jack's gaze, her expression horrified. In any other situation it would have been a relief to know Max was capable of perturbation, but knowing that the thing that had shocked her was the sight of Anne's back somehow stole any sense of relief.

Anne crossed through the doorway and into the bedroom beyond without a second glance. Max flicked her gaze from Anne's retreating backside to Jack. He met her eyes and for a moment couldn't place the emotion within them. It came to him a moment later, grief. He tilted his head in the direction Anne had disappeared. Max moved, crossing the room, unfastening her robe and letting it fall as she vanished as well. Jack kicked the door closed and shed his long coat. He ambled to the side of the bed, watching Anne and the whore.

Anne was lying on the bed on her stomach, clutching a pillow under her cheek. Max alighted on the bed with care, her left knee landing between Anne's. Jack studied Max's every movement as she put her weight on her hands, hovering over Anne. She pressed a gentle kiss to Anne's lower back, drawing forth a shudder. Max trailed kisses up their lover's spine, soft chaste kisses, languorous wet kisses, slow teasing kisses, kisses he couldn't describe for their power. With each one Anne relaxed more until she was a veritable puddle when Max nipped at her neck. The sting brought Anne's hazy eyes to gaze at her. Max gave her a chaste peck on the lips before brushing her nose on Anne's cheek.

With his neckerchief and pants shucked Jack had only to pull his shirt over his head to join them. He shrugged out of the garment as fast as he could manage but still missed something. Anne had chosen the exact moment his eyes were covered to employ her strength and grace to flip onto her back. When he caught sight of them again the two of them were gazing at each other with such intensity he feared he would end up spectating so he sat on the bed.

The slight jostling motion won him a look from Anne. She reached out and drug his lips to hers with her typical hunger. Anne kissed him with the fiery passion they'd always traded. Their kisses were not chaste and neat, they were not the kind that proper married couples shared on their wedding night. They were forceful and messy. Anne's nails raked his naked chest and back and he loved every second of the stinging, burning sensation.

Jack broke a kiss to grab a quick breath and Anne moved her attention to his neck. She pressed hard sloppy kisses to the base of his throat. He moved a hand between their bodies, his hand cupping her modest breast. She sank her teeth into the skin just below his stubble. Jack gave the bit of flesh in his palm a gentle squeeze before ghosting his fingers over the tip of her breast. Anne let out a soft moan, teeth leaving his tender skin for a scant second before clamping back down. He growled as he captured her turgid nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it roughly. Anne tilted her head back and sought his lips again.

This kiss was softer, punctuated with soft whimpering noises and broken groans expressed into his mouth. Anne's tongue darted around his in a fierce display. Jack employed his captive at key points to drop Anne's guard to take control for a few seconds until the bite of her nails into his back drew a hiss from him. They surged back and forth against each other, grunting, hissing and gasping until Jack pulled back and pressed a soft kiss to Anne's jaw. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Max's head nestled between Anne's thighs.

He ducked his head and drew her nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over it. Anne sucked in a breath and tangled her fingers in Max's hair. Her mouth free, Anne was able to articulate sounds into words and she wasted no time putting the faculty to use. "Fuck Max!" She murmured. Jack scraped his teeth over her nipple in response. Anne bucked her hips and arched into him, her face contorting with the intensity of the experience. "C'mon! Stop teasing." She breathed with agitation. Jack repositioned his head with as much subtlety as he could manage so he could watch Max with his peripheral vision. He brought his left hand to trace patterns on Anne's abdomen to disguise his voyeurism.

Max had pulled away from Anne's cunt and was lavishing a spot just a few inches below with her attention. She was kissing, sucking, nipping, and biting that small area of flesh with breath taking intensity. Under her Anne was squirming and groaning with the occasional whimper and plea thrown in. The spot Max was focusing upon grew darker until the skin was so tender even the softest of caresses made Anne flinch. "Max…" She whimpered. "Please!" Her fingers picked and pulled at thick dark curls vindictively.

Jack switched his attention to the other nipple, nipping at it as Max pulled away from Anne entirely. "Please what?" She intoned. Anne stammered, huffed and fell silent. Jack abandoned Anne's breast and cradled her face. She kissed him with every bit of her frustration and he felt is cock stir with some kind of envy.

"Max, switch with me." He ordered, sitting up and pulling Anne up with him. He heard Max moving behind him. He laid himself down on his back. Anne's eyes focused on his cock greedily. "Well what the fuck are you waiting for then?" He asked with a playful smirk. Anne leaned forward, kissing his navel, nipple, jawline and then his lips.

Anne had never bothered to make mounting him look alluring and in this, even in the presence of Max, she seemed unwilling to change. She slung a leg over him, lowering herself down onto his crown without haste. He exhaled at the first touch of her hot slickened flesh upon him. Slipping into Anne was an experience by itself.

Her cunt was always so warm and inviting, some might say indecently wet as she sank past his head. She was a hot velvety vise around his cock. Both of them sighed at the relief of finding one another again. Anne would work her way back up, slide down to the same exact point. Her womb was so narrow that he would just not fit any farther. Anne had a way of rolling her hips so that with each stroke she would take a bit more of him and move lower until her entrance was clenched around his base.

That was how things had gone in the scores of times they'd fucked over the last thirteen years. This time as Anne sank over his crown there was no slowing. Her slick flesh slipped over the supple leather of his cock to the very base. He fit inside her perfectly, his head pressing forward against her front wall. Anne was close to orgasm, her walls rippled around him. She rocked forward with agonizing sluggishness, her head tipping back at the exquisite feeling. In the lamp light Anne was even more beautiful in her naked vulnerability. It was almost breathtaking-almost but for the ghoulish eyes peaking over her shoulder.

He looked away from Anne, turning his eyes to the ceiling. Max had settled behind Anne and was pressing kisses to her neck. A moan drew his attention to the place where their bodies met. Max's hand had settled there, her thumb grinding into the pearl of Anne's oyster. The stimulation increased the intensity and frequency of the contractions around his cock. Anne's breathing was ragged, her expression almost pained. She rocked faster, her eyes closing with the effort of holding out. Jack was fast approaching his own peak. The pleasure was becoming overwhelming. The hot tight flesh engulfed him, using him. Anne's poor attempts at suppressing her own breathy exaltations were driving him mad.

Anne's hips rolled forward without sign of stopping, coming faster and faster as her need grew. Finally she tipped her head down and looked into his eyes. Her eyes shone with lust and desperation, bright cerulean against her ruddy complexion. Her cunt clenched around him, taking away his breath. Anne cried out and then he was coming with her.

His cock pulsed, shooting his load within Anne. She rippled around him drawing more from him, intent on pulling every second of intense orgasm from him. Lights exploded behind is eyes until Anne finally went slack around him. She slouched forward onto him, his cock slipping out of her with a sick squelching sound. He wrapped his arm around her and closed his eyes to grab a bit of rest before he would be called upon again. Anne left his arms far faster than he would have liked. He cracked an eye to watch her head disappear between Max's thick thighs.