Duck napping was a fairly common practice, especially if you owned a flock of ducks. The waterfowl could up and disappear at any moment, but that mattered little to wealthy families. It was a day like any other, which, passing in the manner that days do, quickly turned to night. A large flock nested behind a wooden fence, this fence connecting to a house, and a very grand one at that. The location of this house was where most houses are located: in a town, or in this case, a port-town. The mansion-house had a few lights on, it's occupants readying for bed. That was no matter, as the edifice was quite a good distance away. A beam of fragile moonlight revealed a tall figure standing in a bank of shadows. The figure moved forward, the moonlight illuminating the form.

At first glance, the person appeared to be about 17, dressed in a linen shirt and long dark breeches. The figure looked to be male, clean-shaven, with shoulder-length dark hair that looked rather wind-blown. Upon much closer inspection, a spectator would find that the figure was indeed a woman. Walking to face her current obstacle, she faced the fence, seemly staring it down. This having no effect, she lifted a booted foot, and, finding a protruding edge, used it lift herself closer to the top. Hauling herself over the fence, she landed on the other side, a soft 'thud' of boots connecting with packed earth. Moving quietly, she searched out her prey. A twig snapped in the distance. She jumped. It was time to leave. She grabbed the nearest fowl, tucking it under her arm, and securing it's wings, feet, and beak. Hurtling herself over the wall, she landed on her feet, making no more noise that a cat. She ran down the nearest alleyway, it's occupants paying her little attention.

7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^

Reaching the docks, she set off down the shortest, kicking a loop of thick, salt-covered rope off the wooden support and into her small boat. (A/N: I've been told that this kind of boat has a name, it being 'dinghy') Stepping in, she released the duck at the bow and cast off, sitting near the stern. She rowed out into the lagoon, and then raised the main sail.

Turning to the duck, she said, "I have some food if ye want it." (A/N: Pirate talk. Huzzah.) She grabbed for a canvas bag that was tucked away behind her. Digging through it, she pulled out a small loaf of coarse, brown bread. She swiftly broke it in two, setting one piece in front of the duck, and keeping the other for herself. The girl sat there, consuming her bread in silence, while the duck picked at its share. Looking away from her food, the girl noticed what was wrong.

"Here." Moving over, she picked up the large morsel, and tore it into bite- sized pieces. Gradually, she fed the duck until he'd had his fill. Leaning back against her things, the girl stared at the duck, chewing thoughtfully on what was left of her bread.

"'ll be staying with me now," she said. The duck was surprised, his mannerisms showing it. "Can't eat ye now." She continued her explanation. "I've fed ye, and I'm about to give ye a name. What will become of me?" She smiled, shaking her head in mock disapproval.

"Now then, how about a name?" She then proceeded to stare at the fowl intently. The feathered creature moved almost anxiously under her gaze.

"First Mate Quack." She said at last. The saffron colored bird proudly raised its bill, as if in understanding, and uttered a short 'Quack'. The girl grinned.

"That's settled then. I'll be seeing ye in the mornin'." She blew out the lantern, and went about rearranging herself a bit, then lay back, covering her face with a burgundy tricorn. She muttered a muffled 'Good night', before going silent.

Hearing this, the duck responded. "Good night Elizabeth." The girl didn't answer right away, leading the fowl to believe that she had fallen asleep. However moments later, she sat up, catching the hat before it fell away from her face.

Lowering the brim so that it showed only her eyes, the girl replied, "My name's not Elizabeth." The commanding manner in which she said this gave away that she had once been more than just a thieving sea-rat. She continued, her speech more eloquent and refined from her previous canter. "It's," She paused, then started again. "Was, Isa-why am I telling you this?! You're a duck!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration.

"Yes, but I'm a talking duck." He added helpfully, seeming rather amused. She on the other hand was rather unfazed by all of it. After all, it was just her luck to pick the talking one. She sighed.

"The name's Roux." She said, a bit half-heartedly. She let the tricorn fall into her lap, her usual self re-inhabiting her body. "Captain Roux." This introduction might have been a bit more intimidating, had her shoulder- length hair not fallen in her face. She brushed it back, annoyed. The feather fowl merely chuckled. "I'd be respectin' yer Captain, as she currently controls yer rations." At this, the duck fell silent. "Thought as much. Now I'll be seein ye in the mornin." She lay down again, and both girl and fowl settled down for sleep.

7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^7^ 7^7^7^

Disclaimer: Don't own 7-up..