[center][h2]Cap’n’s Work Is Never Done[/h2][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/UrT5I0n.jpg[/img] [/center] Part 3 of a JP/collab from [@Xandrya], [@Gunther], [@wanderingwolf], and [@sail3695] Joe looked at his crew, “Anyone interested in a game of Billiards? They have a table upstairs.” "I'm game," she responded with a slight shrug, her eyes still straight ahead. Alana smirked before taking another sip, remembering the game against Cal. "Anyone else want in? We can always make it a doubles match.” “Ah haven’t played in awhile. Ah recall when ah worked on that luxury liner we stopped here for a few days. Ah spent some time in this here club. Played many games upstairs.” Joe was trying to sell the game to his crewmates. Hook’s admission raised Cal’s eyebrows a might. “Well,” he cocked his head to one side, “I conjure that’s a sight better’n you sayin’ this is your first time with a cue stick.” After watching that joke fail to land, the captain changed course. “Go rack ‘em up,” he agreed. “I’ll be along soon’s I ‘persuade’ our deckhand to join in.” Joe nodded toward the captain and made his way up one level where the pool tables could be found. He found an open table, placed his beer on a side table and called for the balls to rack. It was a virtual game. One could pass his or her hand through the balls, but the special attachment to the cue enabled the balls to react as though they had been struck with the proper force and angle. The captain’s eye followed the pair as they struck off for a distant ladderway. While his gaze might’ve lingered on the comely doctor, Cal found that only reasonable. “Good captain knows his crew…from all sides,” he reckoned. “Noblesse Oblige.” He was a little fuzzy on where he’d picked that one up. Mayhaps a book, or some fancypants passenger along the way. Still, it sounded good as he stepped toward the Great Arm Wrestling Match at the back corner of the bar. Drink was maybe a quarter of the way done, and Alana looked down at all that was left. Maybe she ought to slow down if didn't want to blow the game for herself and whatever unfortunate soul happened to be paired up with her in her semi-inebriated state. She watched Hook set up, leaning on the table as if guarding his drink, her own next to his. A small crowd had gathered round, laughing and hollering as Yuri Antonov tried to hold his own against a man at least twice his size. “Like a python wrestlin’ a fishin’ worm!” one patron chuckled as he placed his bet. “This gon’ end real quick now!” Cal nudged his way through. “Hey, One-Arm. Just lettin’ you know we’re all gonna be upstairs for a friendly game of pool.” Yuri’s concentration didn’t shift. He was locked, hand in hand, eye to eye against his opponent. The greeter stared right back, eyes mirthful and a tree trunk arm that hadn’t yet budged. “Upstairs?” the mechanic asked. “This place has an upstairs?” “So says Hook. I reckon a treehouse can have an upstairs, leastways til you run out of tree,” the captain observed. Don’t go breakin’ anything…[i]dohn mah?[/i]” “Ku.” Cal turned away from the contest. “Beg pardon…thank you,” he spoke as he worked his way out, eyes sweeping the main deck for tousled strawberry curls. When he finally caught sight of young Abigail, the captain frowned and quickened his pace. Trouble with vodka boom booms was they just went down reeeeaaall easy like. Abby done had herself one afore that “See How I Miss Yew” song ended. Now the band was playin’ somethin’ jest had her movin’ an’ swayin’. [hider=Be With Me] [youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vKYXnEZ7ybQ [/youtube][/hider] They’s couples all about, dancin’ soft an’ slow. Abby held ‘er drink glass up tah her chin, sippin’ out ice cubes and melt as the beat took ‘er away. The vodka an’ rum was dancin’ inside ‘er, an’ fer a second, Aunt Lupe was there, in ‘er ear. ‘This is how to make your backbone slip…’ She opened ‘er eyes. They’s a fella there, movin’ in close. “Hi,” he give ‘er a smile. “I just love this song. Dance with me?” He held out a hand an’ pushed ‘is hips like he’s ruttin’ in the backwoods. “Looks like we already are,” she laughed an’ sideslipped from his touch. He followed. “What’s your name, honey?” Abby slow twirled, then eased away from a hand brushin’ against ‘er hip. “Not’cher honey.” “You could be,” he grinned. “My name’s Brad. And this [i]Yi Dwei Da Buen Chuo Roh[/i] is Max.” Tha second fella waded right in, eyes walkin’ ever’ inch ‘o’ her as he offered a glass. “Hey, Beautiful! I brought you a drink. Vodka and Boom Boom, right?” “Yeaaah,” she answered kinda slow, afore smilin’. First fella had ‘er playin’ the dodge, but now they’s two, an’ friends tah boot. They’s an alarm ringin’ way down deep inside ‘er, but what could happen here? She had crew in the room, an’ hell, all these folk about? Abby’s still strapped, Colt on ‘er hip fer all tha world tah gander. Them two fellas…Brad an’ Max…was gittin’ in sorta too close fer her likin’, but fer tha most part was playin’ hands off. She conjured she could keep ‘em evened out. And she wouldn’t mind another drink… The situation unfolding around Abigail could have brought a lesser man to swoop in, wave iron, and grizzly stand any man who’s eyeing just so, but the Captain? No miss. He felt sorry for any fella asking to be handled roughly by the blossoming deckhand, and he said as much as he approached the fellas from behind, parting the pair with one hand on each of their shoulders. “Abigail! You playin’ nice? She tell you the one where she broadsided a reaver–big as a barn–straight through the noggin’ with that there Colt on her hip? Yep, that one right there. Twixt that and the [i]róudào[/i], this here’s the prettiest lethal weapon you’ll lay eyes on this side of White Sun,” Cal tipped his hat in her direction with a wink. (Judo) And now she’s stone sober. Weren’t Cap’n’s tone. She knowed that tah be his “tall tales” voice. Didn’t read it in his stance none, showin’ hisself all relaxed an’ such. [i]No,[/i] she conjured as that alarm inside had ‘er lower that fresh drink from ‘er lips, [i]the eyes. Sure’n it’s in tha eyes.[/i] Eyes what carried a warnin’, and as she studied the man, she picked up on somethin’ else, a signal. [i]Play along…[/i] “Aww, Cap’n,” Abby give an eye roll an’ kinda flounced herself afore his lecture. “I’s only havin’ a little fun’s all. Weren’t gonna hurt ‘em or nothin’...” The captain stepped through the now confused looking pair of ne'er-do-wells to stand at the buzzing deckhand’s side. In a deft movement, he plucked the drink from her hand, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and addressed the pair, “She says that now, but trust me, gentlemen, I’m intervenin’ on behalf of blackouts and sore heads come morn.” His eye narrowed just a mite, “One way or another.” “But…Cap’n,” she let ‘er voice go all singsong whiny, “I was...yessir,” she dropped her eyes all surrender like. “Let’s go [i]Da Jeh Da[/i], I hear there’s a pool table, and I feel a powerful need to take you down a few notches. Boys” Strand tipped his hat to the sore looking pair as their eyes cast around the dance floor for some other quarry. Last they seen ‘o’ her was Cap’n ridin’ herd, arm about her shoulders as he pushed ‘em both off tha dance floor. “I’m sorry,” Abby mouthed over her shoulder toward them boys, afore givin’ Cap’n tha side-eye. “Why I feel like yah jest rescued me from somethin’ I didn’t even know what?”