Second meeting - Morgan/Maggie

The days were busy aboard the pirate ship Astyrian - filled with endless tasks and constant vigilance to keep the ship running smoothly and soundly. Each man (or woman) had their tasks, and Finn ensured that no one shirked their duties. It wasn't until nightfall that the crew was able to relax and truly enjoy themselves. Liquor was passed around, fantastical stories were shared, and sometimes even mild flirtations were bandied about.

Maggie found herself gradually becoming more comfortable aboard the ship. Her outgoing nature and quick smile meant that she was even popular with even some of the more cantankerous sailors. That night an impromptu card game had begun belowdecks and she had taken it upon herself to gather up a few more players. Spotting Morgan sitting on his own, she skipped over and nudged him with her bare foot. "Get up, you're playing with us."

Morgan, as usual, had been sitting eating an apple. This time he was also scribbling in a leather bound book. He looked up irritably at first, then he saw who spoke and smiled.

"Good evening, Princess," he said. "What's the game?"


"Baccarat, I think. Do you know how to play? Don't worry if you don't, it's easy." Maggie grinned, obviously hoping to add another inexperienced fool to the mix.

"Oh, I've played it once or twice..." Morgan said, grinning a little. He stood and walked with Maggie over to the group, and when the men saw them they groaned in unison.

"Ach Maggie, what were you thinking?" said Old Jaques. "He'll beggar us!"

"I'm beginning to think minstrels -never- speak the truth," she said, casting a look at him as she took her seat by the makeshift table. "No worries, boys, for I'm feeling lucky tonight."

The men grumbled and eyed Morgan a bit sourly, but shuffled themselves to allow him a space to sit among them.

Morgan sat gingerly, still worred of splitting the scabs on his back, and grinned at the assembled men. "Well gentlemen, shall we begin?"

A battered deck of cards was produced and dealt out as Maggie chattered heedlessly. The girl only had a little bit of money to begin with, as she had floated up to the ship with practically nothing, but as the game progressed and the hands were dealt she began to accrue more and more.

The other sailors didn't talk much, occasionally grunting or swearing when they were beaten (usually by Morgan or the babbling young woman.)

Morgan quickly determined that Maggie was his main opponent, and began to adapt his game accordingly, watching the girl carefully for tells. He chattered inanely throughout, although a skilled player could tell that his real concentration was on the game at hand.

One by one the other sailors began to drop out, drifting away from the game. Maggie joked and flirted with a few of the older, grizzled men, coaxing a few more hands out of them and increasing her winnings even more.

Before the evening was over, though, the game was down to just two players: Morgan and Maggie. Maggie currently had more winning than Morgan, but hers had fluctuated quite wildly throughout the evening as she'd taken risks, whereas Morgan's had just steadily grown. Some of those that had dropped out were now watching the game, fascinated to see who would eventually come out on top.

"You know, I've been generous so far..." Maggie said, peering over her cards at Morgan with an amused expression. "But now I'm afraid my patience is wearing thin and I will have to start -really- playing."

A slight murmur grew among the men observing, and a couple chuckled. Morgan arched a single eyebrow. "Is that so?" he said. His voice was heavy with the implication that he knew something she didn't.

"Mmhmm." She ignored his tone of voice, plucking a card from her hand and rubbing her thumb over the edge. "So sorry."

She was bluffing. And he knew it. But for now, he let her away with it, and she took the hand.

"Oh, good try," Maggie said, grinning at him as she gathered up the money she had won. "You know, with a lot more practice, you could probably be pretty good at this."

Morgan just smiled lopsidedly and shrugged. "Hey, win some, lose some," he said, sounding for all the world like a gracious loser.

"Maybe -you- do," she replied merrily, stacking up her coins.

The next round, things went very differently. Morgan knew from the second Maggie looked at her starting hand that she had a bad one again. She bluffed again, and again he let her, wagering almost all the rest of his cash.

And then he won the hand.

"Oh, so I guess you -do- have a bit of luck," Maggie remarked, working to keep the scowl from her face. She had only a little money left, barely nothing compared with Morgan's pile.

Morgan smiled and shrugged innocently again. "I suppose so," he said, and again there was a chuckle from somewhere behind him.

"You know, I'm tired of cards," Maggie announced suddenly.

Well, that's fine with me..." Morgan said, pulling the money he'd won towards him and unbuttoning his money pouch.

"Wait!" She reached out and put a hand over his coins. "I didn't say I was tired of gambling. Give a girl a chance to win her money back, why don't you?"

Morgan raised one eyebrow again, but stilled.

"I'm sure we can come up with something more interesting than cards, can't we?"

Morgan folded his arms, and waited.

The girl tipped her chair back, looking up at the ceiling before glancing around the room. "Hmm... I probably couldn't beat you singing... and you definitely couldn't beat me dancing."

"Not in my current physical condition, at any rate," Morgan conceded.

Maggie snorted, giving him a look. "Mm. Well then."

"Well then?"

"Don't rush me." She let her chair fall back to all four legs with a thump. "I guess we'll have to settle this the old-fashioned way. With alcohol."

"Very well," said Morgan, "Grog it is."

The men around them chuckled, obviously entertained at the thought of the two lightweights testing themselves against a barrel of grog. "Indeed," Maggie said brightly. "Roll out the grog!"

One of the men obliged, even providing them with mugs, and slowly they began to disperse. Amusing as watching Morgan beat Maggie at cards had been, watching the two drink themselves into a stupor was less diverting.

"Good luck, lass," Old Jacques said, clapping Maggie on the shoulder as he left. "He may be a scrawny runt, but he's still a Scot..." With that, they were alone.

What do you say, all or nothing?" the girl asked, filling up two mugs for them. "Of course, since you obviously have more money, it's not really fair, but I'll be generous this once."

"I'll tell you what, then, Princess," Morgan said, taking his mug and having a sip. "You call it all or nothing, and I'll take your last few coppers off your unconscious form later. And I promise I won't even take advantage. How's that for generosity?"

"Such a gentleman," she said dryly, raising her own mug. "Pardon me if I don't swoon in gratitude."

Morgan smirked. "Well, if you will sail with men, work with men, play cards with men, drink with men... you can hardly have it both ways, can you?"

"Find me a ship of all women and I'd gladly sign on. Otherwise, I suppose I'm stuck here, with men and their curious ideas about generosity."

Morgan's mouth flattened into a line, but there was a look of something like sympathy on his face. "It can't be easy, I know."

"It's not hard so much as it is exhausting," Maggie remarked, taking another drink. "You always have to be alert, on guard... there's no relaxing on a ship like this. Maybe if you had your own cabin, but even then..."

You know, Finn puts the fear of God into any man who dares touch the women on this ship uninvited," Morgan commented. "There really aren't many better places to be."

"Yeah, well, there's more to it than just touching. Just because they can't use their hands doesn't mean they don't still have eyes, and mouths." She made a face, wrinkling her nose at him. "But you obviously don't want to hear me complaining about this."

Morgan frowned, sipping from his mug. "Would I have asked if I didn't want to hear you talk? You should know that you always have a listening ear with me. That's what I'm here for."

"Oh really? And here I thought you were here to take all my money after lying about your prowess at cards." Maggie arched an eyebrow, finishing the last of her grog.

Morgan poured Maggie a fresh mug. "That's unfair. I didn't lie - I underestimated. And besides, if you were looking for some wet-behind-the-ears youth to beggar, you deserve all you got."

"You weren't truthful. And who are you to judge my intent, since you were obviously doing just the same thing?"

"You asked me to play!"

"Are you joking? You practically threw yourself at me! I only asked you out of pity."

Morgan's mouth fell open, speechless at such a twist on what had actually happened. Then he began to chuckle. "Well, and here I am now taking pity on you, giving you a chance to win your money back. So we're even."

"If I needed your pity, perhaps I would be grateful," she said primly, taking up her mug once again.

Morgan raised his eyebrows. "You're just fire and ice, aren't you, Princess?"

"Would you expect anything less from a princess?" Maggie asked, sipping delicately from her mug. She wiped off the wetness from her upper lip, rubbing her hand on her shirt afterwards.

Morgan chuckled again at the gesture, pointing at the damp patch on her shirt. "Some princess!" he said.

She glanced downwards, snorting. "So my manners may have lapsed... I assure you, it doesn't change my royal blood."

"Quite so, I'm sure..." Morgan said, taking a dainty sip of his own grog, then refilling the mug.

"Some pair we are, eh?" Maggie remarked. "An angel and a princess, getting drunk together in the bowels of a pirate ship."

"Oh, I'm no angel," Morgan assured her. "You were most definitely mistaken on that count."

"Oh, no?"

Morgan said nothing at first, only taking a swig of his grog. When it became obvious that she required a response, he said, "Well, angels don't gamble, for one..."

"Fallen angels might," she pointed out.

"At that rate, what is to say all men aren't fallen angels? Why me?"

"Well, not all men play a harp and sing like you do," she began, listing her points on her fingers.

"Ted the gunner has as good a voice as I," Morgan countered. "Finn himself plays the penny whistle. Surely mere musican talent does not make one an angel?"

"I wasn't done," she said, kicking his shin lightly. "You're also obviously brighter than most of the men on this ship... no offense to them, but it's not too hard to tell you've had some schooling, where they haven't."

Morgan yelped as she kicked his shin. "Oh, so musical talent and schooling, hm? Will Locke has schooling. Jay is a mathematician and Astronomer. Finn and the captain read as well as I."

"-And-," she continued, with another sip of grog, "None of them are half so pretty as you."

Morgan feined shyness, dropping his eyes, his long dark lashes shading them. "Why Princess, you'll make me blush..." he said, concealing a smirk not terribly well.

"Well, angels are supposed to be... you know, beautiful but hard to tell, you know? And that's like you," Maggie stated. "You've got that face."

"Hard to tell what?" Morgan asked, looking confused.

"If they're men or women. I guess they're angels, so they're neither. Or both."

Morgan smiled lopsidedly. "I can't decide whether to be flattered or insulted."

"Well, I did call you pretty. I'd say that's a compliment, wouldn't you?" She smiled at him, tipping her chair back again.

"Most men would not necessarily take pretty as a compliment," Morgan said, then raised his mug, saluting her, "but I shall, seeing as you put it so nicely."

She grinned and took a long drink, tilting her head to one side and regarding him. "I like pretty things," Maggie said. "I used to have this ring... it was so nice. And shiny."

Morgan nodded. "I like pretty things too," he said simply.

Maggie's grin faded and she sighed, looking down at her mug contemplatively. "I'm winning so far."

"We'll see about that," Morgan said, and refilled his mug, then took a long swig. "What was the ring like?" he said, trying to keep the conversation going.

"It was gold, and had a blue gem in it... a big one." She pursed her lips, gesturing with her free hand. "And clear ones around it."

"Sounds... pretty," Morgan said, not really sure how he should respond having asked. He wasn't really much for jewellry. "I think I had one a bit like that once."

"Did you?"

Morgan paused, then drank, then nodded. "Yes?" Then he frowned, and added hastily. "I won it playing cards, and gave it to a lady."

Maggie grinned. "How noble. Did she thank you?"

"Oh, probably..." Morgan said, busying himself with his drink.

"Mm?" She raised an eyebrow, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table. "That's good."

"Yes..." Morgan said, apparently distracted. "You're very pretty, you know," he said, changing track altogether.

"Oh, now you'll make -me- blush," Maggie said, smiling widely. "I like it."

Morgan grinned. "I think I should like to make you blush..." he said in a mock lascivious tone.

Maggie laughed, fanning herself with her free hand. "Somehow I don't think you'd find that task too hard to accomplish, sir."

Morgan refilled his mug, making a meal out of the job, though it hadn't been long since he'd last refilled. "I don't know. You don't seem like the easiest woman to charm. After all, you were about to hit me a few moments ago and here you are now sweet as pie..."

"About to hit you? I -did- hit you, if I remember correctly, and you'll have the bruise to prove it tomorrow if you're not lucky." Maggie nursed her own mug, taking a small sip.

"Well there you go then. You're pretty hard to please, I'll wager."

"Are you saying you wouldn't be man enough for the job?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Morgan raised his eyebrows. "Perhaps not..." he said with a mysterious tone.

"Not with that attitude, at least. Confidence is attractive, you know."

"Oh really?" he said. "I suppose we must own you to be very attractive indeed then."

Maggie grinned again, not blushing but looking quite pleased all the same. "Go on..."

A slow smile spread across Morgan's face, becoming mischevious only at the very last second before he spoke. "Because you, Princess, are all confidence."

Maggie let out an indignant noise, kicking at him again. "That's not nice!"

"Ouch! Would you stop that!" Morgan said, flinching, 'though he was still grinning. "Well, if you will fish for compliments..."

"Maybe I'm dropping my line into the wrong pond," the girl said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, I stand rebuked!" Morgan said, though he remained seated. He winked.

Maggie snorted and refilled her mug, still leaning her elbows on the table. "Don't make me kick you again."

"Here," Morgan said, passing his own mug to be refilled. "You wouldn't kick a wounded man, would you?"

"Of course I would!" she said, handing his mug back to him. "As many times as it takes to drive some sense into him."

"Dear me, I fear you'll be at that a long time..."

"Apparently so!" Maggie slurped noisily from her mug and then burped, giggling. "Whoops. Anyway, when you've got a beautiful girl all alone, one who's obviously interested in you, you should be saying -nice- things, not insulting her."

Morgan raised his eyebrows, saying nothing for a moment. He took a thoughtful drink of his grog. "Firstly, obvious to who, exactly? For all I know this could be another of your random fancies. Secondly, what makes you think I'll automatically want any woman who'll have me? And thirdly, assuming that both of us were interested, how am I to know that insulting and teasing you isn't the best way of winning your affections? You are, after all, no ordinary lady..."

It took a moment for all this to register with Maggie, and she furrowed her brow as she listened. "Well, I -thought- it was obvious to everyone... isn't it? And if it wasn't before, well, it is now, I guess." She set her mug down, looking at Morgan seriously. "And I'm not assuming you'll want any woman, but I'm not any woman, am I? And thirdly... Well, maybe you're right about that. Although what you said wasn't very nice."

"And I was quite wrong, also," Morgan conceded. "A ap-apologise." He stared into his drink for a moment. "Funny, it usually takes much longer for me to stutter..."

"Well, at least I'll win at -one- thing tonight," Maggie said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, don't give up!" Morgan said. "What if I'm only drawing this out to give us longer to converse?"

"Are you?" Maggie asked, narrowing her eyes at the minstrel. "Or maybe you just don't like to drink alone, and I'm better than old Yellow Pete for company."

"Much better company, I'll grant you that much..." Morgan said, saluting her again with his mug before taking a drink. "As to the rest, I'll only either insult you or make you big-headed with my answer, and I'm in the mood to do neither..." He grinned at his dark-eyed drinking companion.

"Funny, since that's all you've been doing all evening," Maggie replied. "But I suppose I've got nothing better to do, so I'll stay here for now."

"Oh really? Just because you have nothing better to do? And this has nothing to do with winning all that money back?"

"If I really wanted your money, I could just take it. There's no way you could run faster than me with your back as it is." She smiled at him smugly, reaching out to snatch one of the coins from his pile. She balanced it on her finger, then flipped it up and caught it neatly in her hand.

Morgan himself smirked, and placed his forefinger on one of the coins, sliding it across the barrel (which they were using as a table) towards himself. Then he passed his hand across the coin, and it disappeared.

"Fancy," the girl remarked, her expression amused.

Morgan reached over the table, and pulled the coin from behind Maggie's ear. It was a cheap trick - one of the oldest in the book, but done well it still looked good.

The trick seemed to delight the girl, who grinned and reached up, capturing Morgan's hand. "Where'd you learn to do that, hmm?"

Morgan paused for a moment, enjoying the feel of someone else's skin - not something he felt often. On board, he was close to only Alajas and Finn, and neither were fond of human contact. Leaving his hand in hers, he answered. "From a gypsy named Valo, on a Spanish Privateer vessle, many years ago now."

"I see," Maggie said, nodding. She pulled Morgan's hand out in front of her, uncurlingit to reveal the coin. She grinned and plucked it offhis palm, setting it on the table and stroking his skin lightly with her fingertips. "Well, you're not the only one who's been taught by a gypsy... -I- learned how to tell fortunes by reading palms from one long ago."

Morgan leaned forward to be more comfortable. "And can you tell mine then?"

"Of course I can." She bent over his palm, eyeing it closely as she continued to caress it gently. "Let's see... well, yes, that much is obvious..."

"What?" Morgan breathed, leaning in further so that both of their heads were bowed over his hand.

"It says your life is very exciting... or I guess exciting isn't really the right word. It's very... full, and unusual."

"Okay, but that, as you say, is obvious," Morgan said softly. "Anything else?"

"Mm." She pursed her lips, tracing the lines from the top of his palm down to his wrist. "There are... secrets, and a betrayal, here." She tapped a spot near his thumb. "And pain... your life isn't easy. It hurts, doesn't it?"

Morgan stared. He closed his hand around her fingers. "Anything else?" he repeated.

"I only saw one other thing," Maggie said, looking up at him.

"And what's that?" Morgan asked, meeting her eyes.

"You're due to be kissed by a very pretty girl in the near future." With that, she leaned in and kissed him square on the mouth.

"Mmph..." Morgan's eyes widened, then closed. He did nothing for a moment, then opened his mouth a little. He tasted like grog and apples.

Maggie squeezed his hand, reaching up and placing her other hand lightly on his cheek. She tilted her head slightly, deepening the kiss.

Morgan smiled, pulling back after a moment and biting his lip. "Does this mean I win the drinking contest?" he asked softly.

"I thought -I- won," Maggie said, blinking at him. "At least, it felt like it..."

Morgan smiled a little. "Then I suppose we both win," he said, and leant in to kiss her again.

Perhaps it was the grog, or the slightly stuffy air in the room, but Maggie definitely felt more than a little light-headed. She slid her hand down to cup Morgan's neck, her eyes fluttering shut.

After another moment, Morgan and pulled back a little. Maggie opened her eyes again, to find herself staring into Morgan's.

"And since we both won..." he began, and he stood up. He slid roughly half the coins on the barrel into his pouch and buttoned it shut. "Goodnight, sweet princess." Morgan bowed, and strode a little unsteadily out of the mess, and up onto the deck.

Well, if -that- wasn't a rude awakening, she didn't know what was. Maggie sat for a moment, gathering her wits about her as she stuffed the coins into her pockets. When she stood they made a slight jingling noise that was emphasized by the weaving manner of her gait. She climbed the stairs, looking around in the dim light of the evening for Morgan.

Morgan was standing, leaning on a rail on the quarterdeck, sillhouetted against the fading light in the sky. He was eating one of his every pleasant apples and staring off at the horizon.

"Hey," Maggie said as she approached him. "You can't just leave like that."

Morgan turned and leaned back against the rail. He smiled at Maggie and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

The girl placed her hands on her hips, standing a bit unsteadily in front of him. She lifted her chin, eyeing him. "It's rude to run away from people like that. Especially when -you- kissed them first."

Morgan's mouth dropped open again. "What? You kissed me!"

"I did not!"

"You did!" Morgan said indignantly.

"Absolutely not!" Maggie stamped her foot.

Morgan just stood there with his mouth hanging open for a second, then he grinned. "You are unbelievable..."

"At least I have some semblance of manners!" Maggie retorted, her cheeks flushed pink.

"Well, at least I have some semblance of propriety!" Morgan retorted, unsure whether to be amused or offended at that moment.

"Hmph!" She stared at him a moment longer and then turned, her pockets clinking as she stumbled across the deck. There, now -she- had the last word. That would teach him to... to... do that!

Morgan let her go, watching, amused, as she wandered unsteadily off. He knew he had the upper-hand. And although he wasn't completely sure he wanted it he wasn't about to give ground.

She stopped halfway to the stairs and turned about again, squinting at him in the darkness. "And another thing... you -liked- it!" She said this loudly enough to turn the heads of the few men still on deck, who looked between the two with amused and knowing expressions.

Morgan smiled lazily, and relaxed against the rail. Not only had Maggie just sealed his victory, she'd boosted his reputation around here for a little while.

"Good night, Maggie!" he called after her.

"Go to hell!" was her shrewish response before she jangled down the stairs.

The men sitting nearby chuckled, and Morgan joined them, for all her parting shot stung a little as well as being amusing.

"A funny lass, that," he remarked, mostly to himself. "I start the evening an angel, and finish it in Hell..."

"Women'll do that to you, lad," one of the old sailors said, shaking his head. "Ev'ry time."

Morgan smiled lopsidedly, his eyes still on the hatch down which Maggie had disappeared. "Oh, I know," he said. "And I just never get tired of it."