A quiet place? Stories? Her expression was confused enough that the words might as well have been in a foreign tongue she did not share. She looked down at the boy and his sweetly earnest face and then up to the look-out’s face and her nose wrinkled in consideration. She looked at the crew, already rowdy and the drink had only just begun to flow and then back at the two standing before her. She was quiet but it was clear from her movements that she had heard and was considering. Then her eyes lit on her door and the word story came to the forefront of her thoughts and she nodded. 

“Come.” She said without preamble and moved towards her cabin door. She pulled a key from her coat pocket, the polished metal catching the light of a nearby lantern before she inserted it and turned the lock. It swung open and she stepped inside, gesturing for the two to follow. She turned up the wick in her lam and gestured towards the chairs at her table as she discretely pushed her hostage boots further into the shadows. 

She had shared stories in there with Jax so it led her to believe the two could enjoy them in there as well though her own impulse to share surprised her. But the last few days had been a series of unexplainable reactions and she was past trying to decipher them. Besides, she doubted the two would find peace anywhere on the ship tonight unless they went deep into the hold. The rats might enjoy the tales but she wasn’t certain the pair would. 

With the door open they could still hear some of the revelry on the ship but it was remote, and manageable, a backdrop to whatever adventures the two would spin. And they should spin them, she was certain of that. There was a closeness between the woman and the boy that was nearly as unsettling to her for its foreignness as Jax’s smile. In the presence of it she felt like she should either flee or linger and absorb its residual warmth. 

“It is quieter in here.” Her honey filled the cabin belatedly, the words stiff and delivered just a hare late and said as much about her confusion as her expression. “I doubt you will find better and I don’t mind."

Just then the unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh was heard in the shelter of the cabin. Nicki’s face turned towards the sound though its source was not visible from inside the sheltering walls. Her profile was lit by the lamp, her scar hidden by shadows. 

“Excusez-moi.” She said and sped out of the cabin to tend to whatever foolishness was about to occur.