[i]"Non, non mon petit chou-chou,"[/i] whispered a warm voice laced with spice, the woman's lush, crimson-painted lips beside the boy's ear as he moved with the customer's tankard of grog, toward his table in the shadowy back. "I will take care of him tonight, Luc - oh, don't look so sad, sweet boy. You are doing a brilliant job. Your [i]Maman[/i] would be proud, not a drop spilt! Go on now... "

Her hands full, the dusky woman's hip swayed softly as she stood back up to her full height. "There, in the purse - go on, you take a reale for this night. Give it straight to your [i]Maman[/i] - and I'll know if you don't Luc!" At the sound of her low, musical laugh, the boy's dark eyes lifted up, sparkling with an impish delight as his hand emerged from the night blue purse at the woman's waist with the silver-stamped coin between his small fingers. The young woman nodded her assent, the tiny, clever silver bells stitched into the edges of her pale silken head wrap tinkling merrily as the child scooted away with the still-filled tankard. 

She watched after Luc for a moment, perhaps a touch of wistfulness lingering in those kohl-rimmed grey eyes, before she returned to the "business" at hand. The soft hiss of her sapphire blue skirts followed in her wake, the delicate ivory of the lace edging the sleeves contrasting prettily against the warm, caramel skin of her arm.

"When will you stop ordering that piss water grog, Thomas?" Antonia asked, a small lift of those brilliant lips as she bent beside him at the table, a lovely eyeful of her generous décolletage accompanying the heavy plate and the tankard she set so expertly before him. Fresh bread and a hunk of good cheese, a still steaming rack of blood red roast aside thick slices of papaya fruit.

"You may adore your Dusk Skate, lovely man," she teased as one, tapering fingertip tapped lightly against the tankard she'd brought herself, "But she will [i]never[/i] make you so sweet as your little thief. You drink the [i]bumbo[/i] I bring you." One graceful hand wafted over the tankard as she leaned forward, a genuinely precarious moment for the straining neckline of her bodice as she breathed in deeply. "Nutmeg... Sugar and rum... [i]Delicious[/i]... " 

Slowly she stood, moving to stand behind the pirate captain, her arms wrapped loosely about his shoulders as she bent to his ear, her soft lips whispering a new song, yet familiar enough between them, while he ate. The smile on her lips would read to any casual observer, a woman plying her 'wares' most effectively, the soft whispers and the tender, knowing fingers of one hand that played almost absently with the ends of Thomas' auburn and golden hair.

The truth of those words may have been a... A [i]touch[/i] surprising, perhaps, were anyone else able to hear them, these little snippets of talk. But Antonia stood where she would, where she chose to be, at Thomas' back.

"A strange bird, your new helmsman - the smiling man Jax with [i]no[/i] love for women on a ship, not on their backs. He went on a walkabout, he did. Aye, you do know I was afraid at first, the poor man might have to have a terrible, [i]tragic[/i] accident, if he'd been making for some of [i]les voleurs... [/i]"

"Now you just take that grin off your face, Thomas. I'm almost [i]sincere[/i] on that score! Even I can see he's a fine helmsman, navigator - and he loves the [i]Dusk Skate[/i] well. Very well. Truly and deeply, I must say... Ha! Half-expected him to insist on some 'alone time' in the hull 'fore he finally left... "

"Oh yes, to Havana first, then Cadiz. It's as good as done, 'tis a haul like no other we've seen in some time... Oh... Oh no, the [i]Clear Plume's[/i] captain shan't be waking for a good night, nor found for a good day or two, we've all the time we need... "

Antonia's hand slipped down, over his chest, the pistols, languidly making its way to his belt where she lingered, fingers slipping beneath the thick leather for some moments, palming a piece of parchment against the soft skin of his belly, coordinates and ship's names, destinations and ship plans...

"... You do know if she joins you for gleek this night, I'm laying even odds she wipes the floor with you, lovely man. You are all risk, Thomas, where she tolerates none. Oh, this should be a grand showing, and I wouldn't miss it for all the world. But I'll be there this night, at the Black Boar. You won't see me of course, but we can't have my lovely man's back laid bare in the night, can we?"

Antonia moved to Thomas' side, reaching to gently cradle his chin in her hand as she turned those lovely copper eyes to her own grey gaze. The young woman smiled, and bent to press a kiss to the side of his mouth, his cheek, leaving a crimson impression behind as she pulled back, grinning wickedly. 

"There we go now, well-marked. How I love to see you like this, Thomas. All my world lacks now, dear Silver Fish, is the soft music of your snoring." She caressed his cheek with the pad of her thumb before she stood to her full height once more. "Tonight then, and have another tankard of the [i]bumbo[/i] before you leave. You'll thank me, lovely man."