Silver Spirits

Scarlett watched as Ben studied his new map, after having given the new coordinates to the crew. He'd trace the course with his finger every now and then, like he was trying to memorize this one as well.

"Relax, Griffith. As far as I know, no one is dying to destroy the map this time around," she smirked, picking under her nails.

"You never know," he mumbled, glancing up to look at her.

Scarlett sighed and lied back on the bed she was sitting on, staring at the ceiling and playing with the ends of her hair.

"Tell me about yourself, Ben," she said. "I'm bored. Tell me about all the lovely ladies waiting for you at home."

"It won't be a very long story," he smirked. "They don't exist."

"Don't be so modest," Scarlett insisted, rolling over onto her stomach to look at him. "I refuse to believe that you've never felt the touch of a woman."

Ben didn't say anything, but chuckled and shook his head, keeping his eyes on the map. Scarlett's eyebrows shot up, tilting her head to the side.

"Oh no, you haven't?" she gasped.

"I never said that," he reminded her.

"You have, then."

"That's my business, and only my business."

"What about her business?" Scarlett questioned.

"Yes, I suppose it's her business as well," he said.

"So there is a girl!" Scarlett exclaimed, sitting up again and waiting for him to tell the story.

He just sighed in defeat and pushed the map aside, realizing that he wasn't going to get anything done with Scarlett around. He walked over to sit beside her on the bed, still not answering her.

"I'd rather not discuss my personal life," he told her. "I was taught not to kiss and tell. Besides, it's been over for a very long time now."

"Who was it?" Scarlett pushed. "Do I know her?"

"Madeline, please."

"Fine," she huffed, crossing her arms. "Be a prude, then."

"If you seem so eager to discuss these things, then let's hear it," Ben said, turning it around on her. "How many men have succumbed to you?"

"Oh Benjamin, do you really want to know the answer to that question?"

Ben blinked, suddenly unsure, but nodded. He watched in shock as Scarlett started counting on her fingers as she thought back on the last few years, folding her hands in her lap when she ran out of fingers to count.

"Am I counting women as well, or just the men?" she asked.

"Well, I....," Ben turned a little red at the question when he realized that Scarlett wasn't joking. "You know, you're right. I don't think I want to know the answer to the question."

"Your turn, then," Scarlett said, waiting impatiently.

"Alright, fine," Ben sighed, giving in. "I had low social status, but was always spending time with the upper class. You can imagine that neither upper nor lower class fancied me very much. When I was about fifteen or sixteen years old, I met someone who didn't seem to care. I didn't know much about her, but, well, there's a certain age for boys where they're so unsure of themselves that they take whatever they can get. I was tall and gangly, and it felt like my body couldn't keep up with my rapid growth."

"How adorable," Scarlett laughed. "Oh, please tell me who it was."

Ben hesitated, glancing at the door as if he expected the dame to walk right in.

"Ah, well, it was a young lady by the name of Melinda Smit-"

"You didn't," Scarlett gasped, recognizing the name right away. "Oh, she might be worse than I am. Isn't she older than you? How was she?"

Ben closed his eyes as Scarlett bombarded him with questions, waiting until she quieted down before answering her in a lower time of voice.

"It was an experience, I suppose," he shrugged. "It lasted a week at most, yet my young and foolish mind was convinced it was love. It was awful, really. She was older and more 'experienced', like you mentioned. Meanwhile, I didn't even know where I was supposed to put my hands."

"Did you figure it out in the end?" Scarlett asked.

"I'm finished with this discussion," Ben said firmly, much to Scarlett's disappointment.

They sat in silence for a few moments until Scarlett leaned in and kissed him, pulling him in close. He initially seemed confused, pulling away for just a moment.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Teaching you how it's done, since Melinda clearly didn't," she grinned, crawling up on top of him and pushing him back on the bed.

"I know how it's done," he argued.

"I don't believe you. You said you didn't know where to put your hands."

He surprised Scarlett when he suddenly flipped her over so he was on top, pinning her wrists down and kissing down her jaw and neck as she fell into and uncontrollable case of the giggles. It didn't take long for Ben to prove that he did indeed know what to do with his hands, as well as with every other part of the body. While Scarlett was a leader, they both realized that she liked it when Ben would suddenly take control, when he was so gentle in every other aspect of his life.

For the next four days, Ben reminded Scarlett of this, once (sometimes) twice a day while no one was paying them any attention. Scarlett couldn't help but wonder how on earth she'd gotten there. Not long before, Ben was rotting in her brig. Now he had her completely disrobed in bed, lying on his bare chest while he combed his fingers through her hair in a sad attempt to tame the uncontrollable curls he'd made a mess of just minutes before.

"Remember when you wouldn't change your shirt while I was present in the same room?" she yawned.

He didn't answer. His eyes were closed and his breathing had slowed, but the constant movement of his hand was the indication that he was still awake and listening to her. She lifted herself up slightly to give him a quick peck on the lips, so he'd open his eyes and look at her again.

"I want your full attention," she told him.

"Didn't I just give you my full attention?" he smirked. "I may have to do the opposite and leave. It been here with you for a little too long. I've never met anyone who can 'discuss coordinates' for this long."

Scarlett pouted as he rolled out of the bed and grabbed his clothing, pulling his shirt back over his head. She watched him with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, until he sat back down to pull on his boots. She scooted over and rested her head on his shoulder, watching quietly. He pulled his second boot back on and put his free arm around Scarlett, lifting her back into his lap and kissing her forehead.

"You surprised me, you know," he said. "I didn't know that you of all people could blush like that."

"You surprised me too," she told him as he plucked her dress off the floor and managed to pull the blanket away to get it onto her. "I didn't know that you could make me of all people blush like that."

He just chuckled and shook his head, moving behind her to lace the back up, keeping it loose despite Scarlett's request to make her waist look inhumanly small.

"You may not be surprised to hear that you don't need me to lace it so tightly, because now that I've seen you in your entirety, I can tell you with confidence that you have the figure many women can only dream of."

"Surprise me again. What else can you do?"

Ben thought for a moment, then sat Scarlett down in a chair, moving behind her. She watched him through her mirror as her pulled back all of her hair in a French braid in just a few minutes.

"You best believe that I am the greatest older brother anyone could have asked for," he said, tying off the bottom of the braid. "I can't count the number of times I was the one to help Emily with her hair, so no one would scold her for having it look a wild mess all the time from running around as a child."

Scarlett laughed softly, almost in awe. He'd done that about as quickly as she could. She never would have guessed.

"You've done it again, Commander," she muttered, running a hand lightly over the braid. "The better question might be to ask what you can't do."

"I've never been able to cook," he admitted. "When I'd try, I'd always burn the food. Or set fire to something. It got to the point when my mother would just shoo me out of the kitchen, because she was tired of my 'testing the food for poison'. I suppose I do have to thank those lack of cooking skills, though. If it weren't for that free time, I wouldn't be wandering the estate, and the Weldon family may have never noticed me."

"So once again, it all worked out swimmingly for you," Scarlett teased.

"Well, I don't mean to boast, but I am just about perfect," he shrugged.

"Oh yes. A perfect idiot," Scarlett laughed, giving him a good whack on the back of the head as she stood from the chair and walked past him, towards where his newly drawn version of the map was laid.

It did look just as she'd remembered, but she could only hope that Ben's confidence in the map was enough. She would much rather die knowing she'd found the island than die lost at sea. She'd found that as of recent, she'd become far more pessimistic about the journey. She didn't have enough fingers to count the number of death scenarios she'd come up with in her head, and had found that the idea of immortality wasn't as incredible to her as it used to be. Yes, she'd have all the power she had ever dreamed of having, but what for? Above all, she hated to think that Ben was the reason for her doubts. He'd never so much as mentioned her prize, but at the same time, he'd made mortality sound so much sweeter. Scarlett sighed and ran her thumb over the drawing of the island, drawn completely blank. No one had ever gotten far enough to go to the island and survive, let alone draw out what they had seen. Scarlett hated surprises. She looked over her shoulder as Ben came up from behind her and looked at the map over her, glancing over at her.

"It'll only be another day or two now," he said.

"I know."

"Scarlett, may I be so bold as to ask you something?" he said, moving around her to lean against the desk and face her, pulling her in by the waist. "How much longer do you intend on hiding the truth from your crew?"

"Truth about what? About where you've been disappearing to for thirty minutes at a time?" she smirked.

"About who you are," he said firmly, keeping the conversation serious and on track.

"Never," she said quickly. "I haven't for five years now, and I never will."

"Are you sure?"

"Don't try to change my mind."

"Fine," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "What about us then? Do you expect me to hide from your crew as well? It won't work. I can name two people who've noticed me coming in here so often. My first mate and yours. Neither have forwardly asked yet, but are you sure they'll stay silent forever?"

"Nothing is happening between us," Scarlett told him. "Nothing anyone needs to know about. It's just for comfort before we all die."

"And if we survive?"

"Then you go home with Simon and Emily, and I go back out to sea with my crew," she said. "And we never have to be a burden on each other again."

Ben scanned her features for a moment, expressionless. He seemed unfazed by what she said, like he felt she was lying.

"Do you really believe that?" he asked.

"It sounds to me like you're asking me to commit myself to you," Scarlett accused, stepping away slightly.

"I'm not asking you to do anything," he said, shaking his head. "I do, however, feel there is more to it than 'just comfort'. And I know you feel it too."

Scarlett pursed her lips and clenched her fists to keep from hitting him, sidestepping around him and sitting in the chair on the other side of the desk. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself before answering him.

"I don't commit," she said. "If you must know why, you can ask Percy. He's a colorful story. Now get out. I don't want to see your face for the next hour, or I'll do or say something I might regret."

Ben watched her in silence for a few moments, still expressionless, but a sort of suspicious curiosity in his eyes. He then pushed off the desk he was leaning on and gave Scarlett a slight bow.

"As you wish, Captain Rose," he said quietly.

He closed the door again on his way out, leaving Scarlett alone to sit there with her arms wrapped around her stomach, suddenly feeling sick. While she was glad he'd already left, she feared that she'd already done and said something she regretted.