AN: Prompt from Quinntana week 2013. Enjoy :)

Quinn Fabray's ship comes into range far quicker than anyone could have imagined.

"He's coming up full!" The first mate shouts out in disbelief. "The crazy bastard."

He never even got the chance to pull out his spy glass because the Sylvestra—pirate colours hoisted proudly—came upon them so quickly out of the fog. Santana scrambles onto the upper deck so she can see the ship she's heard so much about. This voyage back to Spain was meant to be a calm trip with no excitement to speak of. Santana had dreamed of pirates coming. She thrilled to every horror story the sailors dared to share with the governor's daughter. She felt her heart expand and her nerves tingle at every retold musket shot and thrusting sword. She wants that adventure like nothing else. She hates being trussed up and dressed down like a china doll.

"Keep your head down Miss Santana," those sailers told her over and again. "They have their own code, pirates so keep back and stay quiet and they might leave you be."

Inevitably one sailor would look over her body, lingering on her breast in the most uncivilized way before sharing a look with another of the crewmen. Santana only had the smallest understanding of what that look meant but it always sent a shiver up her spine.

Those sailors always made their warnings to her like it was a fine joke. Santana wanted nothing more than to meet these wayward privateers. Now, her chance is finally here.

She sees him before any of the others. The infamous Quinn Fabray, captain of the Sylvestra and most fearsome pirate to plunder the Spanish fleets. He stands out on the bowsprit like a lion on a high cliff, like it's his very spirit rather than the wind that draws the ship forward. Santana thinks of this man as a mysterious warrior. Honorable but deadly, mysterious and worldly. No one knows who he is or where he came from. No one even know what he looks like.

"Miss Santana!" Rachel rushes up the stairs toward her. "Miss, the captain says they will board any momen—" she gasps when she sees the masts of the Sylvestra so close. "Miss please come below."

Rachel grabs at her arm and Santana relents to follow because that's what's expected of her but she looks over her shoulder to catch a final glimpse. Quinn Fabray with his head and face wrapped in dark fabric is an enigma but his eyes connect with Santana's and for an instant he stares straight into her soul. Santana longs to be closer to him. She thinks those eyes could be green though it could be the kohl surrounding them that gives the illusion. If only she could—

"Come on misses," the first mate hurries both girls into the captain's quarters and the door is locked behind them.

Q&S

The battle is done in what feels like mere minutes. Few shots ring out and only one canon is fired. Rachel clings to Santana's arm as if that connection could save her from imminent death. Santana rolls her eyes knowing that there is nothing they could do if these pirates decided to sink the whole ship with them inside.

Santana is shushing Rachel's whimpers impatiently when she hears a strong, male voice ring out. She thinks it might be the captain but can't be sure. She untangles herself from Rachel and approaches the one window by the door. She feels the strongest impulse—she needs to see the captain of the Sylvestra again.

She jumps back when a fist thumps against the door.

"Miss, open the door please."

Santana is confused by the polite request. She doesn't recognise the voice or accent of any one of the crew which means that on the other side of that door is a pirate. Just like she's been dreaming of.

Santana looks back to see Rachel shaking her head frantically but it doesn't matter. Santana has the key and she uses it to immediately and recklessly open the door. She's disappointed to find a blonde boy rather than the swarthy captain. He smiles at her and Santana can't help but be startled by how big his mouth is.

"Evans!" A voice calls out sharply.

The boy turns. "Captain?"

"Bring them both." The order from the captain is short, succinct and makes Santana eager to hear more.

Q&S

Santana and Rachel are bundled aboard the Sylvestra with the rest of the valuables plundered from the Spanish vessel. The hands that guide Santana are surprisingly gentle though she doubts they would be quite so easy of she were to struggle. She doesn't want to though. She wants to know about these pirates, especially the captain who stalks ahead of them. He seems to be shorter than many of his crew but this proves no disadvantage as he commands the immediate attention and devotion of everyone around him with naught but quiet words and gestures.

She isn't separated from Rachel until they're guided into the captains quarters. It's an impressive space and they're immediately presented with a meal "After their ordeal," the captain tells them in his quiet voice.

Santana tries to catch his eyes but he seems now to want to avoid the contact. Everyone else leaves them. All but one other sailor—shrouded in dark cloth, eyes lined with kohl like the captain himself. Rachel sits by Santana in a pool of her own tears until the taller pirate kneels by her and offers a kerchief. She looks startled for a moment before taking it. She feels over the soft fabric that looks like fine silk before finally dabbing at her cheeks. Santana sees the captain roll his eyes at the sailor who shrugs with a smile in his eyes.

"You won't be harmed on this ship," the captain explains. "Unless you try to do harm or try to escape." Quinn doesn't elaborate on what their punishment will be. "Please eat while Pierce and I make arrangements. Each of you will be sharing with one of us."

The other pirate who must be Pierce nods with an enthusiasm that clashes with the air of mystery created by his dark clothes and shrouded face. Rachel almost smiles and then blushes hotly when he winks at her.

Q&S

Santana is given a bed in the captain's sleep room. The space is cramped as one would expect on a ship but it still takes many days for Santana to learn anything of her new captain. Though Rachel still entertains thoughts of rescue—bemoaning the many peculiarities of her cabin mate Brett Pierce—Santana is very much preparing herself to stay with this crew for the foreseeable future. She knows that this has little to do with pirates in general and everything to do with one in particular.

She watches the captain at every chance. She doesn't bother to hide her fascination and Quinn makes no attempts to shy from her gaze other than to keep himself covered at all times. Even with their close living conditions Santana has seen little of the captain's skin. She kept herself awake late into the night just to catch a glimpse of his hair—blonde and cropped above his shoulders. His personality is just as difficult to understand. Santana tries her hardest to get as much from him as possible even needling away at him hard enough to see him roll his eyes and huff at her. Somehow almost every of their conversations will tie back to her.

"So your mother," the captain would begin and turn the conversation back onto Santana quicker than she knows it's happening.

Santana can't seem to help opening her heart to him. Even when thy disagree and argue. The captain doesn't dismiss her opinion, rather he fights her tooth and nail to prove his own correct. He listens like no man has ever listened before. She catches herself over and again and tries to change the topic to less personal matters but Quinn would only draw her back with those deep, complex, hazel eyes.

Santana wakes on the fourth morning since her capture to movement in the cabin. She feels a jolt in her stomach to know that he is here with her. She peaks out through lidded eyes to find that she is facing the rest of the cabin rather than the wall. Quinn won't know she's awake unless she gives herself away so she stays completely still and tries to keep her breathing steady. She slowly slides her arm up to obscure her face. The low light is barely creeping in with the dawn and won't be enough to give her away while she watches.

Quinn is moving something heavy to one side. He sets down a small bath barrel with steam billowing from the top and places a towel, box of soap and wash cloth on a table beside it. Quinn glances over his shoulder to check Santana is asleep. He watches for a long moment. Long enough for Santana to wonder what he could be looking for. Finally he turns back to the barrel kneeling on the floor beside it and unraveling the cloth wrapped around his face and hair. Santana is fascinated to see the soft, clean honey-gold of his hair. She longs to touch it to see if it really is as soft as it looks. Quinn checks over his shoulder and Santana has to hold in a gasp at finally seeing his face, even in profile. His features are delicate and English and almost beautiful. He lays the fabric aside and turns his attention back to his shirt which slips over his head.

Again Santana has to smother her reaction because now she can see the smooth, strong lines of his back. She sees rippling shoulders with taught muscle over delicate arms and a lithe figure. Santana's heart is hammering in her chest and she slams her eyes shut, desperately hoping not to give herself away because now she knows Quinn Fabray's secret. She knows what the good captain is hiding behind the shrouds and the layered black clothing. Quinn Fabray, captain of the Sylvestra and scourge of the seven seas... Is a woman.

Q&S

If Quinn has any inkling that Santana might know her secret she gives no sign of it and Santana is careful not to give herself away. She keeps the same careful observation, this time much more aware of what she's seeing; the easy grace of not only an able seamen but also of a woman, possibly a dancer. When they make conversation over dinner—she and Quinn at one end, Rachel and Pierce at the other—Santana watches for the recognition in Quinn's eyes when she mentions darning or marriage or ribbons.

Quinn is attentive as ever and Santana can't help but feel herself wooed. She knows it's foolish but she can't help but feel the pull to this unique captain. Santana has wanted adventure and this woman is not only hunting adventure out but seizing it. She wonders what it would take to follow Quinn's lead. She knows it can't be easy. She knows it's what she wants. Santana just has to find a way to bring it up with the captain.

Q&S

Quinn is watching Santana eat in the disconcerting way she has.

"You're staring, Captain," Santana points out.

"Call me Quinn," is her usual reply.

Santana looks her in the eye, trying to see past the shroud of black. She thinks she sees a smile in the crinkle around her eyes.

"Why do you always wear that?" Santana asks, looking down the table. "And Pierce. There's no one here but us. What are you afraid of?"

Quinn stares at her for a moment and Santana holds her breath wondering if maybe she'll finally be told the truth. Quinn sighs. "Maybe we're scared of you both."

Santana scowls. "You want me to believe you're afraid of your own prisoners?"

"Prisoners?" Quinn's eyes show hurt. "I thought..." She shakes her head. "That's not what I want Santana."

"That is what I mean Quinn. You say my given name with familiarity which isn't earned and I use your name even though I have yet to see your face."

"Santana," Rachel scolds gently from the other end of the table.

Santana looks at her and sees Pierce's hand resting over her wrist. It occurs to Santana for the first time that this Pierce must be disguised the same as the captain. Is Rachel being courted the same as Santana too? What sort of life has she really fallen into if that is the case. For that matter, is the captain pursuing her in that way? Santana just doesn't know. She certainly can't sort out any of her own feelings on the matter at all.

She stands up abruptly from the table. "You'll have to excuse me," she says brusquely, not really bothering with extended pleasantries. "Please stay and eat."

She leaves quickly, feeling a mess of emotion clawing through her chest. All of the lies are piling on top of one another. What is she doing here? What can she do other than accept this as her new world. She longed for adventure and the pirate life. Is this that life? She squeezes past the sailors and into the cabin she shares with the captain. She crosses to her bed and sits down. From here she can see the bathing barrel tucked away into a corner. She can see a small pile of books by the captain's bed and the book she herself has been reading. There is a necklace hanging by the small, round window which Quinn gave to Santana to wear.

Santana feels like crying but she also feels like breaking things. Before she gets the chance, the door opens, closes and the captain is inside the room.

"Santana I don't want you to feel trapped here," is the fist thing she says.

"Then prove that I'm not a prisoner. Tell me something."

Quinn hesitates before gesturing to Santana's bed. "Can I sit down?"

Santana's eyes narrow at the inappropriate request.

"We already share this room together does it really seem so inappropriate?" Quinn asks.

There's a slight mocking tone in her voice which makes Santana's scowl get even deeper. "Suit yourself, Captain."

Quinn's shoulders slump a little as she sighs. "Okay Santana." She turns to leave.

"Wait," Santana yelps out. She doesn't want Quinn to leave. That's never what she wants. "I just need something...real."

Quinn's eyes smile as she moves back to sit next to Santana, careful to leave a respectful distance between them. "I am real."

Santana scoffs and rolls her eyes.

"Here," Quinn says and holds out her hand.

"What is that?"

"It's my hand, Santana."

"Oh." Santana takes the offered hand and automatically traces over the lines on her palm.

She thinks of her grandmother and how after a few glasses of Champagne she likes to say she can read people's hands and see their future. Santana can't see anything except Quinn's past. There are scars all over her knuckles and one deep, scarred line across the length of her palm. Quinn's fingers twitch a little but she doesn't withdraw her hand when Santana traces her fingertips over the pink line.

"That was my old captain," Quinn explains.

Santana looks up startled. Quinn never talks about her own past.

"He accused me of bedding his mistress in Jamestown."

Santana hesitates. She wants to ask a question but isn't sure she's ready for the answer. She swallows her fear because a Lopez doesn't hesitate. "Did you?"

Quinn arches one brow in question.

"Did you bed your captain's mistress?"

There's a sparkle in Quinn's eye that answers Santana's question but raises so many more. "So you deserved this?" She asks instead.

Quinn lets out a tense laugh. "I guess so."

Santana turns Quinn's hand back over so she can look at the scars scattered over her knuckles.

"Learning the sword," Quinn explains without prompting.

Santana just nods. She keeps a hold of Quinn's hand and unbuttons the cuff on her shirt. Quinn's posture stiffens. Santana turns to face Quinn more fully, her skirts tangling around her legs as she draws them up on the bed. She places Quinn's hand in her lap, palm up so she can roll Quinn's sleeve up further.

The skin she reveals is milky white but scattered with just as many scars as her hand. The contrast between this and Santana's smooth brown skin is stark. Half way up Quinn's forearm is a tattoo of a compass. The needle points directly at Santana, making her heart beat quicken. She turns Quinn's arm so her hand turns and rests palm down against Santana's thigh. She takes in a sharp breath. No one has ever touched her like that before. Quinn squeezes her hand boldly and Santana's attention snaps to her eyes which sparkle with mischief. Santana can't help but smirk right back at her.

She returns her attention to the back of Quinn's arm, tracing over the details in the scales of a dragon and—she pushes the sleeve up over Quinn's bicep— a mermaid, her naked breasts as lovingly detailed as the rest of her.

Santana looks up into Quinn's eyes again, wanting to see the captain's face properly. She lets go of her arm and makes to quickly pull the black shroud away. Quinn is quicker though, grabbing Santana's wrist.

"Santana," she warns.

"Why? Why do you have to always hide?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"I do understand."

"You can't possibly—"

"I know."

Quinn's eyes go wide with alarm and her grip on Santana's wrist tightens almost painfully. "What."

"I saw..." Santana chews at her lip. "I watched you bathe one morning." She feels her face heating. "I know that you aren't..."

"Oh," Quinn lets out a breath and pulls both her hands from Santana.

She feels instantly colder with Quinn's hands gone from her but she won't be diverted.

"I'm not scared Quinn," Santana says with both hands extending toward the fabric on either side of Quinn's face. "You shouldn't be either."

She pushes back the dark cloth in one quick motion, letting it drape over Quinn's shoulders. Quinn looks away but but remains otherwise still. Santana just stares. She'd caught a glimpse of Quinn's features in profile that morning but she still isn't really prepared. She becomes suddenly nervous.

"Quinn?"

Quinn takes a deep breath before turning back to look at her. "I'll understand if you would rather have your own sleeping chamber. I can find somewhere else to—"

"No!" Santana blurts. She clears her throat. "No, I..." She trails off because for all that she's very capable of destroying a man's ego with her caustic words she doesn't know what to say in the presence of a beautiful girl like Quinn Fabray.

She feels a frown pulling at her own lips as she struggles to find the right words. Finally she rolls her eyes at her own sudden diffidence.

"Oh hang it all." Santana grabs Quinn's face with one hand on either side and pulls her in until she can press her lips against Quinn's.

Quinn lets out a humph in surprise but doesn't hold back for long. Santana thinks that the old captain's mistress didn't have a chance against Quinn or her lips. Or her hands. Quinn's strong, scarred hands smooth up Santana's arms and over her bare shoulders, pulling their bodies closer as their lips move smoothly together.

Santana had only kissed one person before. Her cousin Marcus had tasted like bad wine and pork fat. This is nothing like that. Quinn's lips are soft and her skin is even softer as she angles to fit perfectly with Santana who breathes deeply through her nose, her heart galloping in her chest. Quinn keeps kissing her with enough fervor and passion to make her fingers twitch and her spine tingle.

They both lean back at the same time, both taking in deep breaths.

"Santana I—" Quinn begins but Santana silences her with her own lips.

She starts pulling at the captain's shirt, unraveling the layers until she can start tugging the last of the fabric from her pants. She gets distracted having to pull back to see the buttons on Quinn's pants to undo them. Quinn chuckles at Santana's growl of frustration.

"You have too many buttons," Santana huffs.

"As opposed to all these layers?" Quinn says, fingering the outline of the hard panels of Santana's corsetry.

"You can do finer work, Captain?" Santana snarks back.

That earns her a hard kiss from Quinn who somehow gets Santana out of her dress, underskirts and corset in moments while barely separating her lips from Santana's to pull the garments over her head. Quinn pull's a panting and nearly naked Santana into her lap.

"I guess you have some skill," Santana says breathlessly. "But you're still wearing too many clothes."

Q&S