I must give warning. I'm currently reading Treasure Island so I'll be adding references here and there. I haven't finished it yet though. I love Treasure Planet and I've had an idea along these lines for years, so here goes.

I don't own Treasure Planet or Treasure Island.

Hope you enjoy.

It was a quiet night, which was by no means a bad thing. In such an infamous bar as the Bristol, which made its claim for being frequented by all the worst rogues and scoundrels, the quiet nights were the only thing that kept poor old Aunt Desirae going.

The only real noise going on was that of the young man in the back corner. His voice was rolling and guffawing as jovially as a polished bell. A circle of some of the briniest old spacers were his rapt audience as he weaved a yarn from the threads of an old classic. She smiled, remembering the original story well. After all, it was she who leant the book to him in the first place. That boy was probably one of the few in the place who could read - aside from her - and he was certainly the only one who could make such a time-tested tale sound even better.

The men he had around him were regulars. None of them had ever sailed with him before, for though they could rough and tumble with the best of them, they kept to honest work. It didn't matter with her boy, though. He could keep his peace with the roughest of them, and even the most honest would honestly defend his character.

The peace was not meant to last though. She knew that the moment she heard the clikity-clop of fancy boots tromping through her door. Her hunched figure sagged at the sight of Black Dog and the frightened hush he brought with him. Her fingers continued to wipe the various glasses that needed wiping, her clean rag making not a squeak. She just kept her hawkish eyes on the trouble that walked in, and silently hoped things wouldn't get too bad.

Everyone went quiet and apprehensive, even the audience in the corner. Only her boy - bless him - continued his story like nothing was amiss, like one of the wildest cutthroats from one of the nastiest band of pirates since Flint himself had not just slumped into a chair and put his fancy boots up on another. The man in question didn't look like much. He looked like his name, a dog all shaggy and mangy, with hair as dark and oily as pitch spilling down his expensively clothed shoulders. The funny thing was, if his name didn't precede him, most would have laughed at him for a dandy. He had a nervous face and an uncertain countenance, but also a quick blade and a quicker temper. Those who had laughed in the past, would never laugh again.

And still her boy kept talking, ignoring the dirty lowdown look he was getting or the fact that the men around him were no longer paying attention.

Unfortunately Black Dog was not one who took kindly to being ignored. He grabbed the nearest glass of rum, ignored the little protest of it's reptilian owner, downed it one swallow, and hucked it at the boy's head. It crashed against the wall, but had the intended effect. The young man stopped talking.

He gave Aunt Desirae a look. When she sighed in response he smiled his big, merry smile and winked. She was far from reassured. As far as she knew, he had never yet tested the cut of his strength, and he had a knack for getting in over his head. She wasn't about to let him be killed in her own establishment, but she preferred not to get involved in these things.

He stood up and sidled out from his corner seat. "A fine day to ya, sir, and I apologize if I caused any offense," he said in his big, disarmingly charming voice. "I was tellin' these respectable gentleman a fine old fib, sir, but I'd sooner discuss any transgression I've made 'gainst yer person than risk anymore 'a my dear Auntie's glasses. She looses enough of 'em as it is."

She couldn't help but smile when Black Dog's eyes narrowed at the sight of the man he attempted to assault. Her boy may barely be into his twenties, but he was tall, much taller than the pirate, and bulkier too. He moved with an alarming energy through the tight space of the bar to sit next to a man he should have been terrified of.

Did he not realize that lack of fear was his offense?

Black Dog frowned a frown that made his prissy face look ugly. "I see you like working that tongue of yours, but I suggest you quit with it or leave before I quit it for you." His voice was high and haughty. It would have been laughable had it not carried such a dangerous edge.

The fellow who had lost his drink a moment ago leaned in and whispered in the boy's ear. "Hey Barbecue, you may want'a take his word for it. That be Black Dog!"

"Eh? Black Dog ya say?" He took a more appraising look of the unsettled pirate and then brandished one of his oversized hands to shake. "I hafta say, Mr Dog sir, tis a pleasure to meet ya. A real treat."

'Mr Dog' didn't return the sentiment. He snarled and, without warning was swinging his sword at the boy's head.

Now I know it's more often than not that the big blowhards like her boy turn out to be useless, oafish dolts. But if there is one thing you need to learn fast while sailing the Etherium, it's that appearances seldom speak true.

Black Dog blinked. His sword had not met the flesh he expected. The hand the boy had offered in kind was gripped around his wrist, stopping it dead as though it were nothing. Even Aunt Desseray was surprised, though she should have known better. It would take more than a cutlass to pierce that thick a hide.

And her boy just kept on smiling. "Come now sir, there be no need for that. I'm only tryin' ta have a civil conversation wit'choo."

That pirate didn't look like he enjoyed being one-upped this way. His snarl dripped away, leaving an even more dangerous looking half-lidded frown. "Civil you say? I'm afraid the only civility I adhere to is that of the dead." He drew out his pistol and slowly clicked back the hammer.

Though ever fearless the young man's face lost its friendly demeanor as he gazed at the second weapon to be pulled on him in so many minutes. "Oh, I wouldn't be doin' that Mr Dog. Ya see, this here be me Auntie's place, and the Bristol don't suffer no brawling or barbarity wit' me present. The mess is too hard on me poor Auntie's bank book. So I'll ask ya kindly to put that away and behave like the upstandin' gentleman I know ya are, or I'll hafta escort ya from the premisses."

Was that a smidgen of disbelief that crossed Black Dog's features? He didn't pull the trigger, but instead took pause to weigh the situation. The boy's unshaking confidence had him at a loss. Then his eyes flicked to the owner, the woman who had been called Auntie with such endearing sentiment. She was still wiping the same glass and staring at him with her sharp, unblinking eyes. There was little resemblance between them, the boy being an Ursid and she of some bird-like species he didn't recognize.

A little smile twisted his mouth as he eased the hammer. "You're quite long-winded, sonny, but I like you. You have a name? Other than 'Barbacue' that is?"

"John, sir," the boy said happily. He let go of Black Dog's cutlass and smiled as though the whole altercation had never occurred. "And I'll tell ya sir, yer only half right. Long in tongue I may be, but never winded. You may lay to that."

To everyone's surprise the villainous pirate laughed and took the proffered hand in a dainty shake. "I may lay to it for certain, Long John. And now I heartily apologize for my appalling behavior and say that it is, indeed a pleasure." They both sat and John took up his yarn again, earning a great many more of those unexpected laughs from the pirate. After a time the tale came to its end and Black Dog made to leave. Before he did, he said the clincher, "And do you have a surname, that I may call upon again should I have need of such worthy entertainment?"

"Aye sir," said John, "it's Silver."

Dog's eyes were not the only to widened at that. "Silver?" said he. "Your name is John Silver? And John would be for Jonathan I'd wager?"

"Aye, he be me ole' grandad who I'm named for, but he's long expired sir, and holds little more to his name than I meself."

Black Dog smiled much more respectfully than he had yet, and looked on the boy as though looking on a gleaming treasure he had found buried in a bog. "I dare say his name holds a little more than 'little more,' sonny. You don't seem to know what legacy you're keeping, and I would be a fool not to offer one with such a name as Long John Silver a place with the estimable Captain Pew."

John stood and gave Dog's hand a mighty shake. "And this here Long John Silver'd be a fool not to take yer offer, sir, but I'm afraid a fool he be. Ye see, I got me own agenda at this time. Plans, sir, and I intend on keepin' to 'em."

Dog pursed his lips and stiffly asked, "And what would these plans be?"

The boy's grin got a lot more devilish and suddenly he looked like he belonged in the line he was a part of. "Why findin' 'ole Flint's trove, sir, as is me due."

There was a collective gasp, and Black Dog, who's hand was still a prisoner in John's, took a step back and said, "You're daft!"

John let go of him and gave one of his famous belly laughs, the big gap in the front of his toothy grin making him look less dangerous than he was. "There you got me, Mr Dog! But it was a great honor makin' yer acquaintance and I wish the good Cap'n Pew all the best. Offer him to stop by the Bristol the next time ye make port, if you will."

The pirate looked at him strangely, but said, "Yes. Yes I certainly shall. Good day to you, and good searching, sonny." There was humor in his voice and he touched a finger to his forelock as he left. No one could recall that man making so polite before, and non would again until the next time these two would meet.

The tension in the room didn't lift once he was gone. Instead it was directed at John, a new kind of respect and fear that he might have deserved but didn't want. Him being the smart boy that he was, decided not to fight it. He ignored the many eyes around the room and sat at the bar. "See Auntie," he said as cheerfully as a child, "not a mess, 'cept that bit a broken glass at the back."

Desirae chuckled and shook her head. Only her John could disarm a dangerous pirate in such a way. "I am surprised you do not take offer."

John looked scandalized. "What me? Wit' a bloodthirsty lot like them? Not on me mother's grave!"

She chuckled again, but choked down a pained sigh. He was such a nice boy. He had such an earnest innocence to him, but she knew it did not have long to last. Not with the path he was insisting on taking.

She watched as he started a raucous song about spacers and rum that the rest of the patrons couldn't help but take up. Even after what he had proclaimed, they couldn't keep their consternation against him for long.