Kris: Hi! I hope you like this fic Trance and I are collaborating on and will stay along with us for the story!

Trance: Those of you who follow my one-shots might have seen this coming...aha oops. Fair warning, neither one of us are 18th century pirates and so the pirate slang might be...lacking. Be gentle, be nice, have fun :3

Chapter 1

Tucker tipped his head back and gulped the rum in his tankard down in several long pulls that were nevertheless too slow. Sam slammed her tankard down on the table just as Tucker finished swallowing the last of his drink, and then she burped as loudly as she could manage. Tucker slammed his tankard down moments after her and wiped the excess rum spilling down the sides of his mouth with the back of his hand.

The two friends gasped for breath a moment before Sam held a hand out to him. "Pay up."

Tucker scowled. Grumbling under his breath about greedy, cheating woman, he pulled a coin from his purse that had just been filled that morning with his share of the loot. He held it up to the candlelight, admiring the way the orange light played across the shiny silver before he sighed. He pressed the coin to his lips like he was saying goodbye to a loved one and then dropped it into Sam's hand. Her fingers immediately closed around it.

She laughed and placed it on the table between them. "How about another round?"

Tucker laughed himself. "Hell no! Five out of seven losses is enough for one night, don't you think?"

"Scared you're gonna lose again, Tuck?"

"Yes!"

Sam laughed again, sounding only slightly drunk. Tucker, on the other hand, realized his usually poor vision was even worse than usual. As always, competing against Sam had been a mistake. Tucker knew that. Phantom knew that. Hell, their newest crew member, Phantom's mischievous little monkey knew not to challenge Sam. Yet all she had to do was flash Tucker a grin and raise a single eyebrow, and Tucker couldn't resist throwing himself headfirst into whatever competition Sam had in mind.

He would be broke on the first night again at this rate.

A bar wench refilled their tankards as she passed the worn table, filling Sam's before Tucker's despite his having been closer. He scowled at the liquid in his tankard, but before the woman's careless actions could bring his mood down too far, Sam spoke again.

"How about a bet then? Triple price." She pointed to where their captain was leaning against the wall, talking to a young man with golden hair and bulging muscles. "I say Phantom and that brainless mountain take a trip to the stables before we finish this next tankard."

Tucker frowned, considering Phantom and the man standing awfully close to their captain. Tucker didn't have the same tastes as Sam and Phantom, he wouldn't have been able to judge how attractive the blond man looked even if his eyesight had allowed him to see that far away, but it didn't matter. Phantom was allowing the man to lean into his personal space, something he only allowed when he wanted something, but still. It didn't matter.

For once, Tucker knew something Sam didn't about their captain.

"You're on!" Tucker said, grinning as he lifted his tankard. Sam mimicked him, smile and all. They knocked their tankards together and took a swig of rum.

Tucker would have drunk more, but Sam placed a hand on his arm to stop him. "Easy, Tuck, we gotta give them a chance to get to know one another first." Her violet eyes sparkled with amusement in the candlelight, her grin twisting her expression into a mischievous one. "It's the tension right before the fall that's the best part."

Tucker snickered. "It won't happen no matter how much tension they got."

Sam huffed and pulled her hand away. "We'll see about that. He hasn't had a good lay since that brute spooked him."

Tucker hummed noncommittally and took another swig.

"You haven't known him as long as I have, Tuck. Trust me, he's itching for a quick fuck."

"Probably," Tucker conceded.

"I mean, look, he's already letting him touch him."

"He's already—what?"

Tucker jerked his head around to stare at his friend. Sure enough, the blond man was running an oversized finger along Phantom's cheek while Phantom smiled up at him, speaking easily. Tucker slumped his shoulders, already mentally tallying up his loss for the night.

Sam laughed. "What did I tell you?"

Tucker turned back to Sam. He willed his captain to have higher standards than that, if mostly to save Tucker's precious beauties from Sam's dragon stash. "They haven't done anything yet, don't get ahead of yourself."

Sam lifted her chin. "I would never," she said sarcastically. In a more normal tone of voice, she added, "But you have to admit, it's been a long time."

"It has been a long time for me too!" Tucker objected.

"Yeah, but you're an escaped slave. He—" Sam pointed at their captain without looking at him, "—has a bounty worth his weight in gold, a reputation stretching across the ocean, a crew of over fifty men and women, a mysterious past, and he looks exotic enough to put a person's mind to certain rumors every time he steps into a room." She paused. "Also, he's handsome."

Tucker snorted. "That's a bit of an afterthought. Shouldn't it be at the top of the list?"

"It doesn't need to be on the list at all, it goes without saying. The point is, he could have any man who shares his interests in a matter of seconds, and yet it's been how long since he's bedded someone? Four months?"

"Five," Tucker corrected. "He and the brute didn't actually do anything."

"See? Even worse!" Sam glanced at the man in question, and her tense expression relaxed. "Though it looks like we can round that number back down to zero."

"Shit!" Tucker swore before he even turned. Phantom was indeed gone. So was the blond man. "Damn it!"

Sam laughed, delighted. She picked the coin off the table and held her hand out for the rest of the money Tucker owed her. "Pay up!"

Tucker pulled his purse open again and counted out a double portion, grumbling a few choice curses under his breath. He was about to pass the coins to Sam when a body fell against his back, hands gripping his shoulders.

"Tucker!" Phantom's excited voice gasped in his ear. "Sam! You're not going to believe this!" In a matter of seconds, like an unstoppable storm wind, their friend and captain dragged the two of them onto their sore feet and ushered them toward a familiar room.

Tucker recognized it first and groaned. "Captain, you can't be serious! We just completed our last run! Some of our own are still injured." He looked back over his shoulder where his and Sam's tankards had been left, abandoned. Forgotten.

"I know, I know," Phantom said, practically flying forward on the balls of his feet he walked so smoothly and quickly toward the door. "But this is too big an opportunity to pass up."

"What about that blond man?" Sam asked, sounding almost as weary as Tucker, though he wondered how much of that was for her own disappointment. "The two of you looked as if you were getting...close."

Phantom shrugged and waved a dismissive hand. "We were just flirting."

Tucker lifted an eyebrow. He looked around the tavern and spotted a head of golden hair. The young man from earlier stood amidst another crowd of four people, but his eyes watched Phantom's progress as he and his closest friends crossed the room. Even Tucker with his blurry vision could see the longing in that gaze.

Right, Tucker thought, just flirting.

Sam nudged his arm. Tucker opened his hand, and Sam pressed three coins against his palm, holding them there until Tucker's fingers closed over them.

"How did you know?" she hissed as she pulled her hand away.

Tucker grinned at her. They were almost to the door, but he had enough time to lean closer and whisper in her ear, "He wasn't his type."

She scowled at him. "He doesn't have a type."

Tucker raised an eyebrow at her, conveying his disappointment at her ignorance without words. Her scowl deepened. She opened her mouth, and he could see the tirade building itself into an explosive force, but, fortunately, they reached the door first.

Phantom pounded on the wood and then looked back at his friends while he waited. "You know I can hear you?"

They were several feet behind him now, having slowed their steps, and the people in the tavern were laughing, shrieking, and yelling near the tops of their lungs. By contrast, Sam and Tucker had been whispering.

Tucker grumbled under his breath, "I'm adding suspiciously good hearing to the freak list..."

"I heard that too."

Sam marched up to Phantom and prodded his chest. "You cost me my bet, you cocksucker. Since when do you have a type and why didn't that gorgeous man fit it? He could have pounded your ass through the damn mattress."

"Perhaps I don't want my ass 'pounded through the damn mattress' by a buffoon who thinks I hung the moon and created the tides," Phantom said dryly, brushing aside her finger. "Or at all. Besides. He smelled bad."

Tucker snickered. Sam turned her glare on him, and he quickly bit his lip.

Moments later, they were allowed into the room by a harried-looking teenager. He stared at Phantom with wide eyes and a slackened jaw, but Phantom didn't seem to notice. He strode into the room, purpose in each step, and Sam and Tucker followed, less purposeful and more resigned.

The room on the other side of the door was decently-sized, only slightly smaller than Phantom's captain quarters aboard their ship, Reaper. There were luxury items far beyond the tavern's budget such as the lounge seat against the eastern wall, the large desk in the center, and the tropical bird perched atop it who was currently fluffing his white feathers in agitation, but by far, the most expensive item in the room was the dress the tavern owner wore. Possibly even the cosmetics she used to hide her age.

Two men stood in front of her desk, two people Tucker immediately recognized. Skulker and his lackey. Both spun to face the intruders. Tucker fit his hand beneath his coat and grabbed the handle of his gun. The two men in front of him were doing the same, but Phantom ignored them all.

"Spectra!" he cried as if he were greeting an old friend and not a slimy old hag who had already double-crossed their crew. Twice. "I just heard from a charming blond-headed idiot that you have a job for me."

Spectra narrowed her eyes but smiled back with equally false friendliness. Wrinkles that were caked with powder formed at the corners of her mouth. "Had a job. I'm afraid you are a little late, darling. Captain Skulker has already offered his services."

"Well." Phantom strode to the desk until he stood to the side and slightly in front of Skulker. Sam and Tucker moved to stand between him and the rival crew, shielding his back. "So am I, and chances are I can get it done better than anyone in this miserable cesspit of a port. That goes double for Captain Stalker."

"Whelp," Skulker growled deep in his throat. Tucker's hand tightened on his pistol, readying himself. "The only thing you are is lucky, and sooner or later that luck will run out." He grinned, revealing his crooked teeth. "And then I'll be there..."

"Like a dog yapping at my heels, I'm sure," Phantom said loftily, still facing Spectra. "That's all you're good for these days. Tell me, when was the last time your crew pulled off a successful raid? You've been trailing after my ship for so long, I've forgotten."

Skulker growled again and jerked his pistol out, but his companion, the quack doctor, Nicolai, put a restraining hand on his arm and held him back. Sam and Tucker, already beginning to pull out their pistols as well, returned to simply watching the two other pirates for further signs of aggression.

Spectra crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin, appearing as unruffled by the tense atmosphere as Phantom. "You and your crew won a pretty penny just last night, or so I'm told. Why are you after this job in particular? Are your men not tired?"

"Vladimir Masters," Phantom said, allowing his voice to sound serious for once in the conversation. "You could say I have a score to settle with him."

Spectra lifted a perfectly plucked eyebrow. The bird on her desk squawked, "Settle a score, settle a score." It bobbed its head, the feathers of its crest rising to show yellow-tipped edges.

Spectra tapped her fingers against her arm, humming.

"You can't seriously be thinking about giving the task to this...this boy, Spectra" Skulker spat.

"He is one of the best, Skulker, darling," Spectra replied. She unfolded her arm and stroked a single finger down the bird's head, smoothing its crest back down. "Whether it is luck, skill, or some form of magic, that he is routinely able to raid beneath the cover of fog would be invaluable to this venture."

Tucker scoffed to himself. Venture. They plundered and killed for a living. They weren't merchants.

Sam elbowed him, reminding him to keep his silence.

"You need me for this job," Skulker insisted, taking a menacing step forward. "You can't trust-"

"I can't trust any of you brutes!" Spectra snapped, interrupting. "However, if Phantom is as adamant about attacking the governor as he claims, he will perform his end well enough, I'm sure, and perhaps more. Your services are no longer required, Skulker. I'll inform my contact of the change in plans."

Skulker stood in place, trembling with anger. Tucker kept a wary eye on him and Nicolai, Sam beside him doing the same. He glanced briefly at his captain and was relieved to see Phantom finally watching the rival pirate captain from the corner of his own eyes.

The possibility of Skulker attacking their little group was high, never mind that they were supposed to be in neutral territory. It was an ingrained aggression. They had been clashing with Skulker's crew since before Tucker had joined. Back then, some of Phantom's men had made ribbing comments about Phantom having an admirer, but such jokes had grown few and far between. It was difficult to joke about an older man who, far from foolishly wanting Phantom to warm his bed, seemed hellbent on maiming and/or killing their captain.

The final straw had been when an overhead ax strike that had nearly cleaved Phantom's arm from his body about a month ago. Only the timely intervention of Mother Nature crashing a wave against the bow of the ship had saved him.

There wasn't a man or woman aboard Reaper who didn't want to destroy this man in as brutal a fashion as possible after that. Tucker foremost among them.

Skulker swept his gaze over the three of them, and Tucker could see the struggle between his beliefs and past experiences within the man's narrowed eyes. The three of them were smaller, younger, not one of them beyond the age of nineteen. Sam was only a woman, Tucker an escaped slave, and Phantom...well, he wasn't quite a man, was he? By all rights, they should have been dirt beneath Skulker's heel. The lowest of the low.

Yet it was Skulker who stormed from the room without risking a confrontation, spitting vile curses and oaths of revenge against Phantom, Tucker tried not to hear. Nicolai scowled at them before following his captain, and once the harried boy shut the door behind them, the three friends allowed the tension to drain from their bodies. Tucker even heard Sam breathe out a quiet sigh of relief.

It was short lived.

"To business then?" Spectra asked, smiling sweetly up at Phantom from where she sat at the desk. "There's much to discuss."

Tucker scowled at the woman. Sam did more than that, she stepped forward to stand beside Phantom and stared down at Spectra with more disdain than she showed to the rats on their ship. A lot more.

"If you ever think about double crossing our crew again," Sam started, only for Phantom's hand on her shoulder to halt her threat.

"To business," Phantom agreed. "Dash implied you had a way to break into the governor's estate without alerting those inside or the soldiers patrolling the grounds."

Spectra's smile turned a little sickly. "Did he? I had wondered what exactly he told you."

"A great deal, actually, but nothing relevant to the matter at hand. Tell me about your scheme."

Spectra stiffened at the order, a minuscule tensing of her shoulders, before she forced herself to relax. "Of course, darling. Rumor has it—"

"We don't work with rumor," Sam interrupted.

"Rumor has it," Spectra repeated, speaking louder, "that governor Masters has decreased the number of soldiers guarding his estate, and rumor has it that there is a cove near the estate so well hidden a ship might anchor in its harbor without fear of being spotted, and rumor has it—" she glared pointedly at Sam, "that Masters, far from trusting the banks in his city, holds most of his fortune in a hidden room connected to his office."

Tucker felt his own excitement finally beginning to stir, but, strangely, Phantom merely nodded. Perhaps Dash had told him some few details already. Tucker turned his head to share a look with Sam, and where his captain lacked enthusiasm over plundering a well-stocked safe, the growing grin and raised eyebrow on Sam's face more than made up for it.

"Is there more?" Phantom asked. "These are things anyone could discover with a little inside digging."

Spectra pursed her lips. "If you're so sure, why have you not struck at this man before if you dislike him so much?"

Phantom shrugged his shoulders. "I've been waiting for the right opportunity. I'm hoping this is it. The intent is to get inside without being noticed, I take it? That won't work if we have to break our way in." He waited half a second, raised an eyebrow, and asked archly, "Where's the key?"

No longer simply hinting at her displeasure, Spectra allowed herself to scowl. "I shall castrate that man..." she muttered under her breath.

Phantom laughed, the sound harsh with no real warmth to it. "So ruthless! You told him to find a prospective captain. He did. That he happened to give me more information than you intended is more credit to me and my...charm, I think."

Spectra quickly waved a dismissive hand, her expression pinched. Apparently, she didn't want the details, which was probably Phantom's intent. If implying he had seduced answers from Dash convinced Spectra to leave the poor man alone, so much the better. That left them with a contact in Spectra's employ, and one apparently so smitten with Phantom he would risk Spectra's ire.

It also rescued Phantom's soft heart from taking yet another cut, but that was something Phantom would never admit aloud. Tucker gave his captain a knowing look. Phantom pretended not to see.

Spectra opened a drawer in her desk, reached inside, and when she pulled her hand back out, she held a four inch, silver key. She slid it onto the tabletop and removed her hand, allowing the noble's symbol at the base to glint in the candlelight. Tucker didn't know one noble's house crest from another, nor did he care to. He barely spared it a glance, trusting instead to his captain.

"Along with the information, my contact managed to smuggle this key into my possession." She slid her finger down the length of the key as if she was caressing the metal object. "At great personal risk, I might add. For all this, he only asks for one thing in return." Spectra paused. Her bird bobbed its head in apparent excitement as the anticipation grew. "The Masters line must be wiped out."

Phantom nodded slowly. Sam and Tucker traded wary glances. They killed in battle, and sometimes they threatened death upon uncooperative innocents, threats that often had to be enacted, but they weren't assassins. And anyway, killing an entire noble family had risks of its own.

"Does the man have kids?" Phantom asked. "I will not murder children."

"Of sorts. A daughter and a son, twenty-one and nineteen respectively. They are no more children than you are." The sarcastic edge to her voice at the end made Tucker grit his teeth. "I'm sure you won't have trouble killing a pair of aristocratic brats."

Phantom nodded again, but Tucker could no longer tell what he was thinking. An emotionless mask had dropped over his features. "Which one does the governor value higher? His heir or his daughter?"

An approving smile curled Spectra's lips. "Planning to use one as leverage? How...ghastly. His daughter, if you must. It is said she is the spitting image of her mother."

"The mother..." Phantom tone turned dry as he asked, "Does your contact want the mother dead as well? Or just the old man and his progeny?"

"No," Spectra said, almost speaking the word before Phantom finished his sentence. "The mother, Madeline Beaumont, is to be spared."

Tucker grimaced. "Sounds like politics to me," he muttered in disgust. "Just who is your contact?"

Spectra ignored him. She stared at Phantom, her gaze not even flickering over to Tucker.

His friends didn't.

"My navigator asked you a question, Spectra," Phantom said as Sam shifted her weight. "And a fair one at that."

"A cook in the household," she said, her tone light. Dismissive.

Lie, Tucker thought.

It was obvious to everyone in the room, including the bird, but Phantom didn't press the issue. He stood in silence a moment, staring down at the key on Spectra's desk. It was a risk, but it always was with her. The greater question was whether or not the potential rewards outweighed that risk, and how far Phantom was willing to go to claim his prize. The deaths of three nobles was hardly a loss in Tucker's opinion, but the emotional repercussions could be.

And the law's repercussions, Tucker thought to himself. But what's one more note on our record?

A raucous cheer went up outside, the sound muffled as it filtered through the walls of the office. Tucker shifted on his feet and cast a wary look over his shoulder. It would be hard to leave unscathed if a fight broke out. Largely because Sam would insist on joining the fray.

"Show me the cove," Phantom said, breaking the silence inside the room.

It was as good as admitting they would take the job, and Spectra smiled her delight as she unrolled a map that was already on her desk. She must have been about to show Skulker when Phantom interrupted. Instead of stepping closer to look at the map himself, however, Phantom looked at Tucker and nodded. Tucker approached the desk, and as he came closer, Spectra's smile faded.

The map itself was like most Tucker had seen before, featuring the whole of the caribbean islands. Spectra pointed to one near their location, a relatively small island called Amity. Tucker assumed this was the island the governor reigned over, but it wasn't until he leaned farther over the desk, squinting at the map, that he was able to make out the rough details about the island's layout.

Specifically, the details of its coastline.

"Masters' estate is here, at the outskirts of the city." Spectra tapped the tip of her fingernail on the northeastern part of the island, surprisingly close to the coast. "And the cove where you will hide your ship-" she dragged her finger down the coast until she was touching the eastern part of the island. "-is here. It is bracketed on either side by cliffaces, but there is a path leading upward that should take you near the estate. There should be markers in place by the time you arrive."

Tucker nodded absently as he studied the map. He had one like it aboard their ship, but they could probably find one that focused on Amity alone. Spectra was giving him the rough location, and he could probably find the cove by eye once they reached the island, but a more detailed map would make him feel more secure.

He eyed the scale, did a few rough calculations in his head he would need to go over again on paper, and thinned his lips. "There is a little under an hour's trek across land from the cove to the estate," he said. "I thought you said it was near. Our escape will be even slower if we're lugging our catch with us."

"That is why I recommend stealth," Spectra said, forcing a smile. "You pirates can pull off a little subtlety, can you not? If your captain's, ahem, 'magical fog' manages to cover your approach yet again, I'm sure you won't have anything to worry about."

Tucker scowled at her. "We can't rely on that. We're not even sure what's causing it."

Spectra ignored him. Again.

Phantom laid a hand on Tucker's shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. "We will strike in the early morning, when everyone but the guards are asleep. Did your contact send you information on the soldiers' patrols and rotations?" Spectra nodded. "Good. We'll break into the estate with the key, silent as thieves, round up the sleeping servants, promise to let them live if they just keep silent, and find our way to Masters' sleeping quarters and office with a...volunteer."

Spectra frowned by pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes. "Why not simply kill the servants? They will alert the guard as soon as you leave if you don't. Remember, dead men tell no tales."

Bloodthirsty witch.

Fortunately, Tucker's captain was, if not honorable, certainly opposed to unnecessary murder. Phantom shook his head. "Because once the killing starts, so will the screaming. I doubt any one of them are more loyal to Masters than to their own lives. So long as they are given hope they will survive the raid, they will be cooperative. We will lock them in the cellar once we are done, where the soldiers won't hear any yelling until they investigate the house."

"And our escape?" Sam asked.

Phantom tilted his head to the side, considering. "It should be the same as coming in if we plan it right." His eyes slid to Spectra. "We will have to think on it."

Meaning out of earshot of someone they couldn't fully and Sam nodded their understanding. Tucker stepped back from the desk, allowing Phantom to take the lead again. And just in time too.

Spectra stapled her fingers together and set her elbows on the desk. "Now that we understand each other, perhaps it is time to move onto more important matters." Her lips curled into an unpleasant smile. "Such as my fee…"

"Twenty percent!" Tucker exclaimed, throwing up his arms. "That witch wants twenty percent of our bounty!"

In complete contrast to his friend's complaints, Phantom couldn't quite smother the bounce in his steps as he and his friends walked down the dark streets toward his ship. They had finally reached the docks, but still Phantom could hear the sailors, the pirates, the dockside whores, and anyone else unfortunate enough to live in Sinner's Cove reveling in fights, drunken laughter, sex...

In fact, someone moaned just behind a stack of crates as Phantom passed. Two someones. Neither sounded masculine.

Phantom grinned broadly. "And eighty percent of a governor's fortune will be going to us." He lifted his hand and uncurled his fingers, allowing the moonlight to glint off the polished surface of the key for just a moment. "And all thanks to this little beauty…"

"We could have just broken in!" Tucker objected.

"And alert every soldier within a mile of the place? I think not." Phantom closed his fingers over the key and tucked it safely back into his coat pocket. "This plan grants us better odds of success."

Sam snorted indelicately. "Rubbish." Phantom looked to his right and raised an eyebrow. Sam met his eyes easily, her own eyebrow rising. "What's the real plan, Captain?"

Phantom grinned. "Onto me already, Sammy?"

"It wasn't exactly hard." Sam crossed her arms over her chest. "You are so excited you're giving me a headache. It's not as though we're hurting for gold after our last haul, so there must be something else you're after."

That was something he loved about his friend. Too perceptive by half. He nodded, but he kept his lips sealed a while longer, waiting until they were nearly upon Reaper's gangplank.

Beyond his ship, the ocean reflected the moon's radiance, drawing Phantom's eye from his beloved Reaper. Small waves crested and broke against Reaper's wooden hull, rocking her gently in the surf. Longing to head out to sea again gripped Phantom's chest. He took a deeper breath, reveling in the salty tang in the air, and comforted himself with the knowledge their next adventure would begin soon. Very soon.

He and his friends began ascending the gangplank, and the crewmember on watch came to stand beside the bulwark. The tense set of the pirate's shoulders relaxed when he saw them, and he called a cheerful if quiet greeting to his captain.

Phantom called one back, and as safety and welcome embraced him like a hug from a loved one, the security of home dispelling the last of his tensions, Phantom said slowly to his friends, "Vladimir Masters...I have never met the man, but after my father's disappearance, his name was the only lead I had. This could be just the breakthrough I need."

The crewmember on watch, Yorik, lifted bushy eyebrows, having heard the words himself. "Old Captain Frostbite, sir? You've heard word then?"

Phantom shook his head, and the large man's expression fell again. Once upon a time, it would have been a sharp fall, an agony to witness, especially for a younger Phantom who had just lost his father and captain, but years had dulled hope and pain in equal measure for all those who remained from Frostbite's old crew.

"We've a new adventure ahead of us, Yorik," Phantom said, stepping off the gangplank and onto his ship. "Let everyone returning know we'll be setting sail tomorrow." Sam cleared her throat harshly, and Phantom winced, amending, "The day after tomorrow."

Yorik chuckled. "Aye, Cap'n. The crew will appreciate the extra day."

"I'm sure," Phantom said dryly, but the last haul had been good, the share for each man and woman substantial. Let them live like kings and queens one more day. He would rescue their dwindling coin the next.

Not wanting Yorik to overhear anything else, Phantom beckoned for Sam and Tucker to follow him to the captain's cabin. A larger wave rocked the ship as they ascended the stairs to the upper deck, pulling the ship taut against its moorings, but Phantom and his friends were long experienced sailors, and the slight jolt barely slowed their steps. He opened the door for Sam and Tucker, and once inside, closed it securely behind them.

Only the moonlight shining through the windows at the back of the room illuminated the cabin, but it was more than enough for Phantom to find his way to his desk and light the lantern he always kept there. Sam and Tucker waited by the door until it was lit then crossed to join him as Phantom sat at his desk.

Unlike their time in Spectra's room, Sam sat on the desk itself and Tucker sat in the chair Phantom always left there for him. There was no need to stand on ceremony in their own home, which was how Phantom preferred it. Sam and Tucker had both served as captain at one time or another and could do so again at any given moment by will of the crew.

Sam tapped the desk beside her leg and asked without preamble, "That's the whole reason you want to raid this governor's estate? To find information about a man who disappeared over four years ago?"

Phantom shrugged. She made it sound so unlikely, but there had to be something. Anything. "He's the only lead I have left. Everything else has run dry."

"He won't just have papers lying around for you to rummage through, Phantom," Tucker said, "at least not about something that happened four years ago."

"He might have something new that could give me a clue, though." Phantom leaned forward over his desk, setting his elbows on the wood. He took a deep breath. Even through the walls of his ship, he could taste the sea on his tongue. "But you're right. I can't see a man like him holding onto something like that for four years, not about some know-nothing pirate." His nose wrinkled, eyes blazing. "So we'll have to jog his memory."

"Torture?" Tucker suggested.

"Satisfying as that would be, no." Phantom crossed his forearms over each other and drummed the fingers of his left hand against his elbow. "I don't plan to kill anyone."

Tucker and Sam shared a wary look with each other. Phantom was half expecting it and didn't let it bother him.

"Part of the deal is killing the man's entire family," Sam pointed out. She paused then rolled her eyes and amended, "Excluding the wife."

"Politics," Tucker grumbled.

"Or a jealous lover?" Phantom suggested. But it wasn't important, and he shook his head. "We are pirates, are we not? Spectra has tried to off us more times than I care to count, and almost succeeded at least twice. I say it's about time we set our own course, and I propose we do so now. With this mission she so lovingly gave us."

Tucker and Sam shared another look, but this one held a spark of defiant eagerness to it, and when they turned to share that look with him too, he knew he had their support. No small victory, considering, as quartermaster, Sam could have vetoed Phantom's deviation altogether.

"What is the plan, Captain?" she asked, raising one eyebrow.

"We break into his home, steal his gold, threaten his life, and take his daughter." Sam raised her eyebrows at that and Tucker coughed. Phantom smiled wryly. "Spectra said she was his favorite. We'll ransom her for a fair sum, but more than that, we will demand information."

"I had wondered why you asked about them," Sam said thoughtfully.

"What about his son?" Tucker asked.

Phantom shrugged carelessly. "Apparently, the man doesn't care as much for his heir. Strange for a noble, but it will work in our favor. Noble ladies are easier to restrain than the men. No offense, Sam."

"I am not a noble. Not anymore." She heaved a sigh. "But you're not wrong."

"We can kill his son if necessary," Phantom said. "In fact, we should probably plan on it. But our main targets are Vladimir Masters and his daughter."

"In that case, we should get more information out of Spectra about his kids tomorrow. I can do that and gather supplies while you two plot our course for Amity." Sam raised an eyebrow at Phantom and asked suggestively, "Unless you want to pry the information from this Dash fellow yourself? That could be...fun."

She did her best at waggling her eyebrows, and Phantom laughed. He sat up from the desk and leaned back in his chair. "It might have been fun," he admitted, "if the man wasn't already willing to give me anything I asked for. There's no challenge in it."

"Plus, he's not your type," Tucker said, grinning.

Phantom grinned back at him, but Sam bristled, indignant. "He doesn't have a-you don't have type!"

"I am developing one?" Phantom suggested, still grinning. He held up his hands as Sam's eyes narrowed. "It was bound to happen, Sam! I'm learning what I like, and what I don't like is a man who can hold me down. Literally. Figuratively. Dash would have made a fine lover, a very exciting one too, but even had he not held me down and 'pounded my ass through the damn mattress' as you suggested, he would have given and expected more than a simple lay. I would have crushed that man's heart in moments, and you know it."

Sam subsided slightly, the rough edges of her anger soothed. Instead, she turned her narrowed eyes on Tucker. "And how did you know about this?"

"I just saw which way the wind was blowing after what happened with the brute," Tucker replied, his tone light and full of triumph. "And then I came to Phantom with my suspicions before you did."

Of course Tucker would feel superior at finally winning at something Sam failed to notice, and of course whatever soothing effect Phantom's explanation had had over Sam would be lost as a result. He sighed as his friend bristled all over again, violet eyes sparking a challenge which Tucker would be helpless to refuse.

"Take your pissing contest outside, if you please," he suggested plaintively. "You will wake up poor Cujo."

Tucker and Sam looked around for the little monkey, apparently unable to see him sleeping on Phantom's pillow. They kept looking for him even as Phantom stood and began to usher them out. Sam had just stepped through the threshold when Tucker turned and caught Phantom's wrist. He looked at his captain and friend with a serious expression, the moonlight shining through the door highlighting one side of his dark face.

"My parents," Tucker began, but Phantom nodded, not needing to hear the rest.

"We'll collect all the papers in his office too," he said. "We won't have time to look through them all while we're there, but I want you on the raiding team in case something comes up." He hesitated a moment. "Do you remember what names they were given? They won't use their real ones in the ledgers."

Tucker ground his jaw, a familiar anger sparking in his eyes, and no wonder. Phantom waited, letting his friend dig into painful memories from years ago without interruption.

Finally, he spat, "Maurice and Angela." He took a shaky breath. "That's what the man called them when he took them away."

Phantom nodded. Tucker's hand had by now started to clamp painfully down on Phantom's wrist, but he didn't try to pull his arm free. He placed his other hand over Tucker's instead and gave it a light squeeze. "We'll look for them. I can't make any promises, you know I can't, but a man like Vladimir Masters doesn't make the fortune he has without having a hand in the slave market. If we find them, or someone who shares those fake names, we can add their release to the ransom."

Tucker nodded, the motion sharp and jerky. Standing in the moonlight outside, Sam watched the two of them with haunted eyes, her hands fisted at her sides. It lingered on her face as Tucker finally released Phantom and turned to join her, but their friendship was stronger than the ghosts of their past, and Phantom felt safe in shutting the door behind them.

Finally alone in his cabin, Phantom rolled his shoulders a few times and then sighed. There were many preparations between setting sail and claiming their bounty, and the sooner they began, the better prepared they would be when they brought their captive on board. They already had one prisoner in the hold, a man who would rather sail with them a while longer than take his leave at Sinner's Cove. Phantom didn't mind. He would keep the doctor indefinitely if he could, but that hadn't been part of their agreement.

The hold was a cramped space in the bow of the ship, certainly big enough for two to sleep if they didn't mind close quarters, which a noble lady definitely would. Still, if they kept her in there for a few days, and then allowed her the freedom of the deck, or at least a larger room, perhaps she would be more cooperative when Phantom interrogated her for answers for fear of being sent back. Even the doctor could only stand to sleep there at night.

That was all assuming, of course, that they could smuggle a noble lady from her home without alerting any soldiers, carry her an hour's journey crosscountry before any soldiers realized something was amiss, and escape to the sea before any pursuers could reach them.

Phantom rubbed his forehead, but he could already feel an eager grin stretching his lips. He loved a challenge.

Danny gazed somberly out the second floor window, his eyes tracking the blooming flowers along the stone path as they lead to a grander garden behind the mansion. Flowers, he noted, as ones his mother loved, no doubt planted at his stepfather's behest. The man, as always, looking for ways to gain her favor. Knowing why those flowers were there had Danny looking at them with distaste. If he were younger he might have ripped up those flowers and stomped on them.

He moved his gaze from the view outside to the double doors of his sister's bedroom. His sister and mother were to depart soon for a trip into the countryside, one his sister had been looking forward to. Vlad had arranged for them to stay at a second home he owned for a week or two, and she had latched onto the idea as if it was truly a vacation and not just a trip to a dusty old house in the middle of nowhere.

Although why Vlad had not made the trip a family affair instead of just sending away his mother and sister, Danny didn't know. It just seemed somewhat strange for Vlad to not take an opportunity to spend time with his dear Maddie. Not that Danny was complaining. The farther Vlad was from his mother, the better. He just wished he didn't have to stay with him. His eyes darkened just thinking of having to endure the man's company without his mother and sister to act as buffers.

Danny huffed in irritation as he pulled at the collar of his shirt. It had been a few years and he still had yet to fully adjust to wearing such stuffy and constricting clothing. He always found himself close to pulling off his coat and tossing it wherever he felt like. The heavy thing made him sweat beneath all his layers of clothing. Danny refrained from doing so, gritting his teeth, aware he would get an earful from Vlad if the man even suspected his thoughts. He settled for glaring at nothing.

The door to his sister's bedroom opened, her silvery voice flowing out of the room. Danny looked up in time to see her step out from the room, her handmaidens behind her. She thanked the girls who bowed their heads before quickly making their way down the hall. The girls curtsied in respect to Danny, and Danny gave an awkward nod back. A rosy hue spread across his cheeks when he heard the soft giggling of the retreating handmaidens.

Jasmine, or rather Jazz as she was called by their mother and himself, smiled when she spotted him. He moved to stand by her side, smiling back at his older sibling. He felt a small amount of joy that his sister had to tilt her head up in order to meet his eyes, the passing years having blessed him with a taller physique.

"Are you ready to go?" Danny asked her.

Jazz nodded. She grabbed onto his offered elbow, and both made their way down the hall toward the stairs. Danny's longer stride shortened to match Jazz's smooth—and incredibly slow—walk. Learning how to properly escort his sister had been one lesson Danny had not resented, although that likely had more to do with his sister's company than the lesson itself.

"It will be hell without you two here," Danny said, "I can't stand being around Vlad." He spat the man's name with great distaste.

"Speak to me of hell when you know what it's like wearing a corset, little brother," Jazz quipped as her face twisted into a grimace.

Danny looked at her with concern shining in his eyes. "Are you alright?"

Jazz waved off his concern as they descended the staircase. "But, Danny, do try and get along with him while we are gone. It's just for a small time anyway. We will be back before you know it. If you wish, just avoid him. There are plenty of empty rooms about for you to hide in."

Danny felt irritation swell inside him, making him clench his jaw almost painfully. Jazz made him sound like a scared child needing to hide away from big bad Vlad.

Jazz's fingers squeezed his elbow. "Oh, Danny, please don't take it that way. What I meant was—"

"It's fine, Jazz," he cut her off.

"Danny, no it's not. Listen, what I meant was—"

"I know what you meant. It's better to hide than to fight him, I know, okay?" He drove the heel of his free hand against his forehead, pushing up his fringe. "It's just...hard sometimes."

No more words were exchanged as they reached the ground floor. Silence hung over the siblings, neither one willing to confront the reason Danny should hide.

The two stepped through the doors and down the steps to join their mother outside. Madeline, or Maddie, wore a strained smile as she listened to Vlad describe the new array of flowers he planned to plant in their garden. Bored, her eyes drifted from her husband, and when her eyes met Danny's, she moved away from Vlad, leaving him to cut himself off as she walked towards her children.

"There you two are!" she called as she took the few steps needed to reach them.

She smiled so warmly at Danny, he felt himself relax, not realizing how tense he had become within Vlad's presence. Danny did not complain this once as his mother hugged him.

"Oh, my son." She pulled away just enough to hold his face in her hands. Just like Jazz, she had to tilt her head up to look at him. "Will you be alright here with Vlad?" she asked him softly so the aforementioned man would not hear.

His mother, bless her, suspected that his aberration towards Vlad stemmed from him taking the spot of his dearly departed father, but that was only a small part of it. Danny sighed, already blushing a little at his mother's actions. "Yes, mother, I will be alright with him." He reached up to take her hands in his. "I'm more worried about you two."

"Well perhaps we should just stay? Or you could just come along with us?" She looked about ready to cancel the trip so he interjected before she could.

"Mother, no, you two should go to take your mind off things and enjoy the country." He didn't need to elaborate on what things he was referring to, watching her smile wane, her eyes downcast. "Mother, this will do you both some good. I will stay here and learn what is necessary as Vlad's heir as he so adamantly insists." He glanced over at his stepfather who watched them with a blank expression.

Vlad walked over to them and placed a 'comforting' arm around Maddie, making her tense the slightest before forcing herself to relax. Danny dropped his hold on her hands as Vlad reached to take one in his own.

"Yes, Maddie, do not fret," he said in a gentle tone, "I will be keeping an eye on Daniel and perhaps we will have our own grand time while you both are away enjoying yourselves."

Danny refrained from rolling his eyes. His eyes caught his sister's who spoke with that one look to not start anything. He merely sighed and kept his arms at his sides. His fingers twitched, wishing to wrap them around the man's throat.

"You both should get going now or you may find yourselves traveling at night," Vlad said.

Maddie nodded as she called Jazz over to her. Jazz gave Danny a departing hug, whispering encouragements to him. Danny smiled as he hugged her back. He would miss her reassuring presence. She then bid their stepfather farewell before making her way into the carriage.

His mother once more hugged Danny, making him huff but hug her back the same. He found it hard to let her go.

"Try and get along now, Danny." She smiled up at him.

Danny's own smile looked pained. "I will try."

She sighed, giving him one more smile before turning to head into the carriage. Danny watched as Vlad helped her into the carriage, ever the gentleman. Vlad closed the door for them and leaned into the window.

"I will miss you dearly while you are gone, my sweet Maddie."

Danny behind him felt as if he is going to be ill.

Maddie smiled at him, her smile holding some condescension. "Oh, Vladimir. I told you, please refer to me as Madeline."

Danny wished he could have seen what sort of expression Vlad wore from his mother's snub. He couldn't stop a pleased smile from coming to his face. It faded as he watched the carriage with his mother and sister leave. Loneliness began to fill him as his only family left. He took a half step forward before stopping and resigning himself to watch as the carriage vanished from sight.

He had almost forgotten Vlad's presence when he felt a hand land on his shoulder and give a small squeeze. His shoulders tensed, barely withholding a flinch.

"Well, Daniel, no need to look so upset, you'll see them again. You and I will just have to make the best with what time we have together."

Danny looked at him from the corner of his eye, wondering what Vlad was getting at.

"You could use more work on horseback riding, then perhaps some brushing up on your penmanship," Vlad said, his tone friendly. "You can help me with my work so you can get more of a feel for it. We could even work on something you would like to do."

Danny turned his head so he could properly look at Vlad. He searched his face with narrowed, mistrusting eyes, trying to see any hidden malintent. He seemed awfully sincere about the two spending some good quality time together, but Danny wasn't about to bite. He knew Vlad. Vlad wasn't nice. Vlad was very good at pretending. He was a man of many faces, and one could never trust him.

"Perhaps," he answered, voice tight, "but if you would excuse me, father, I would like to be alone. I will see you at dinner."

Danny shrugged off the hand and turned away from him. Danny walked back up the mansion steps and paused at the last one. He gave one final glance at the horizon where the carriage had disappeared. He lifted his eyes to the sky which had once been clear and sunny but was now overcast with dark, sullen clouds. A light wind blew across the land, bending the grass of Vlad's lush, immaculate grounds. He frowned thinking of the rain that would possibly hit the island, hoping it would not hit too soon or hinder his mother and sister in their travel.

He continued on his way inside the mansion with many things worrying him, such as Vlad's behavior. If Vlad was trying to make nice with him it was a little too late. The man had only ever brought Danny misery the moment he and his family had stepped foot inside the mansion. A phantom ache stung his skin, and Danny unconsciously touched the back of his hand, swallowing his fear and anger out of habit. A heavy weight settled in his stomach.

Dear Master Plasmius,

You will be pleased to know that the one called Phantom has taken the job. He will prove more competent than Skulker in the task of doing away with that little problem of yours. He will arrive in a week's time so do prepare for it.

And if I may be so bold? Send your men to storm the mansion just in time to catch Phantom in the act, and you could do away with him. You would gain fame and honor for having caught the notorious Phantom without having to lift a finger.

It is something to think about. It wouldn't hurt that this also plays in my favor.

I do so hope to do business with you again Master Plasmius. As always, it is a pleasure.

Love,

Spectra