Status: Complete
Skull and Dagger
Avoidence
“I hope you know that watching over you prevented me from properly saying good-bye to several attractive young men,” Elizabeth informed Annabelle first thing in the morning on day four of their voyage, just as she had every other morning since they’d left. “You owe me for life.”
“Think of it this way,” Annabelle teased back.
“You’ve got every single sailor of this ship to choose from. We’re the only passengers aboard, so that means we’re the only women…”
Elizabeth looked slightly cheered up at that before she slumped again. “I can’t,” she sighed.
“I’ll be stuck with them for the entire rest of the voyage. What if they want more sex, and I don’t? I can’t deal with that kind of commitment!”
Annabelle shook her head at the other woman’s insatiable appetite for the less fair sex – or, more appropriately, her appetite for just sampling as much as possible of it.
For all Elizabeth's experience, she’d never once found a man that could hold her interest for more than a few weeks.
“Why did my father ever let you stay on as my companion?” Annabelle wondered at Elizabeth's inappropriateness for the hundredth time.
“Because I was the only one you could stand,” Elizabeth reminded her, “and he was sick of searching.”
Annabelle laughed at that before shuddering. “I swear you were the only woman with a personality that my father even let meet me.”
“That’s because I, er…convinced Simmons to add me to the list of candidates,” Elizabeth said with a little wink.
Elizabeth laughed. “What would I ever do without you?” she gave her best friend a fond smile.
“You wouldn’t even get to hear about orgasms,” Elizabeth informed her.
“I suppose that’s as close as I’ll ever get to one,” Annabelle sighed.
Elizabeth patted her shoulder reassuringly.
“You could always check out all the muscular, sweaty sailors,” she suggested perkily.
Annabelle grimaced slightly. “I can’t,” she began, “I—”
“Want it to be with someone you love,” Elizabeth repeated out of rote memory. “How many times do I have to tell you that love is completely unnecessary to—”
“Good morning, ladies,” Father Site stepped into the small dinning cabin.
Elizabeth and Annabelle both broke off their conversation with a little giggle.
Father Site was the true spirit of a clergyman: wise and fatherly (about allowing Annabelle to cry onto his shoulder about her marriage and assuring her that everything would be all right),
forgiving (about things like, say, being hit over the head by a wooden plank…although only after the two of them had apologized profusely and he’d heard their whole story), and, above all, completely and utterly mortified every time either of them mentioned 'conjugal relations.'
So, out of deference to the only other passenger aboard the trading ship, the two of them just barely managed to avoid discussing the subject in his presence.
“Think of it this way,” Annabelle teased back.
“You’ve got every single sailor of this ship to choose from. We’re the only passengers aboard, so that means we’re the only women…”
Elizabeth looked slightly cheered up at that before she slumped again. “I can’t,” she sighed.
“I’ll be stuck with them for the entire rest of the voyage. What if they want more sex, and I don’t? I can’t deal with that kind of commitment!”
Annabelle shook her head at the other woman’s insatiable appetite for the less fair sex – or, more appropriately, her appetite for just sampling as much as possible of it.
For all Elizabeth's experience, she’d never once found a man that could hold her interest for more than a few weeks.
“Why did my father ever let you stay on as my companion?” Annabelle wondered at Elizabeth's inappropriateness for the hundredth time.
“Because I was the only one you could stand,” Elizabeth reminded her, “and he was sick of searching.”
Annabelle laughed at that before shuddering. “I swear you were the only woman with a personality that my father even let meet me.”
“That’s because I, er…convinced Simmons to add me to the list of candidates,” Elizabeth said with a little wink.
Elizabeth laughed. “What would I ever do without you?” she gave her best friend a fond smile.
“You wouldn’t even get to hear about orgasms,” Elizabeth informed her.
“I suppose that’s as close as I’ll ever get to one,” Annabelle sighed.
Elizabeth patted her shoulder reassuringly.
“You could always check out all the muscular, sweaty sailors,” she suggested perkily.
Annabelle grimaced slightly. “I can’t,” she began, “I—”
“Want it to be with someone you love,” Elizabeth repeated out of rote memory. “How many times do I have to tell you that love is completely unnecessary to—”
“Good morning, ladies,” Father Site stepped into the small dinning cabin.
Elizabeth and Annabelle both broke off their conversation with a little giggle.
Father Site was the true spirit of a clergyman: wise and fatherly (about allowing Annabelle to cry onto his shoulder about her marriage and assuring her that everything would be all right),
forgiving (about things like, say, being hit over the head by a wooden plank…although only after the two of them had apologized profusely and he’d heard their whole story), and, above all, completely and utterly mortified every time either of them mentioned 'conjugal relations.'
So, out of deference to the only other passenger aboard the trading ship, the two of them just barely managed to avoid discussing the subject in his presence.