Written because of a wailing muse, between two characters that are being roleplayed with right now. Vyvian Lee is mine and mine alone, so no using her without permission. Virgil is Joejoe's, and the same goes for him. Ah...yeah, it's a one shot.

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There were rare moments when, for some strange reason, Virgil wished that he was actually liked by the crew. Not because he wanted to associate with them, hell no, so don’t get that idea into your mind. It would be for practical reasons, such as leading a mutiny and taking over the Vigilante himself because, right now, taking a knife to Lamont was sounding like a very nice idea. Virgil had issues standing him the majority of the time but, really, a man could only take too much.

No, no it’s not what you’re thinking. Lamont had actually paid them early this time, so Virgil wasn’t annoyed about. Nor, fangirls, was Virgil actually gay and crushing on his Lamont, and being driven to a rage by his captain’s constant womanising. How dare you even think about that? The amount of filth the man carried in his body was almost visible, palpable, and it made the archer shudder in disgust. How Candy stood him was equally as disgusting, however tolerable the girl might be. Honestly, what did she hope to gain? A higher pay rise, that’s what, despite her claims of not being a whore. Virgil had to admit, though, that she was paid the best out of them. Damn her. Damn her for not valuing herself more than that, and damn her for it paying off. Damn her for being right.

Ah, see? Though Virgil was trying not to think about it, his mind kept coming back to the subject that was nagging at him, tormenting him. He was only human and, as disgusting as the concept was, he was plagued by the physical tugs and pulls of hormones like other men. Thankfully, it was to a lesser degree, but even he could only take so much. It had been…six years since his first ‘experiences’ with both genders. He remembered them vividly, mostly because they’d been so disgusting, so crass, that he’d been unable to wipe them from his mind. He’d never taken anyone to bed again and, most of the time, he didn’t regret the decision. What was the point? There’d been nothing behind the encounters, nothing but some sort of sick psychical gratification. He hadn’t even felt that much. No point, why bother? Of course, some people prattled about this love business, but Virgil didn’t buy that. From what he could see, this ‘love’ business either ended up in tears before it went anywhere, or came to a head in marriage and dissolved into a pussy, festering mess soon afterwards until there was nothing left but a sore which took forever to heal. Not for him, certainly. Not only would it cause pain, and he was certainly not a masochist, but there was also a lack of suitable candidates. People were so…disgusting. He couldn’t understand it. He didn’t want to.

He had been in the Captain’s cabin as was usual after completing a mission, with the three other somewhat important people on the crew. Lamont, Basil, Candace. He loathed the first two, and had wanted to leave as soon as possible. Vyvian Lee was to be shipped back to Argonia in exchange for a fair bounty, Lamont had claimed. It was obvious he was still angry at the pirate, Virgil had noted with a smirk. He’d gained a grudging respect for the pirate when she’d been brought on board; Lamont had flirted with her and, where most of their female captives would have either lapped it up with star-struck eyes, or tried to use it for their own advantage, Lee had simply raised a brow, unimpressed by Lamont’s pitiful attempt at charm. One point to the pirate. Lamont had pushed, however, and the suitably placed groin kick had earned Vyvian Lee a trip into Virgil’s highly neglected good-books. Through much cursing, Vyvian had been shoved below deck until Lamont had recovered. Virgil had laughed.

Yet back to the story. Virgil had been about to leave, his share of the payment secured, when it had happened. Lamont had been bitching, still, about Lee and Candy had taken it upon herself to be some sick form of nursemaid to him. She’d been sitting on his lap, after he’d allowed it, and the two had obviously forgotten they had company. Candace never sat on Lamont’s lap without something coming of it and, despite himself, Virgil had looked back.

He was still hitting himself over the head for it. Candace was always a rather sinuous creature, just in her every day actions, but seeing her fully, completely involved in Lamont like that had just made something snap in Virgil. She was worth more than that, honestly! What right did that drunkard, womanising, bastard of a bounty hunter have to…

And at that Virgil had stopped, in the hallway, and just gaped at himself. He must be lacking sleep, lacking food, lacking some of his brain to be thinking that way. Lamont was a man-whore. Candace was…a slut. That’s just the way it was, right?

He didn’t feel like going up on deck. They were still at port, for some unknown reason, and it was summer. The bloody biting bugs were out, and he didn’t feel like being their meal tonight. He’d stay below deck for now, despite it being crammed full of grubby sailors, every bit as dirty as Lamont was. Without knowing it himself, he had walked into the hold. Normally it was empty down here, quiet aside from the odd rat, and he was able to clear his head. Candy had said he was macabre, loitering in a dungeon like that, but he…

He didn’t want to think about Candy right now, that was for sure.

In the same manner in which his feet had simply led him here, unthinkingly, Virgil had forgotten all about the cause of all his anger in the first place. Captain Lee. Vyvian. The pirate who’d had the guts to humiliate her captors. There were no cells in the hold, simply shackles to keep the prisoners there, and the lone guard was looking half drunk already. Disgusting, he’d been down here less than half an hour.

“Hoos thar?” Alcaholic breath, heavily lidded eyes. Virgil crossed his arms in disgust.

“You’re a disgrace, you worm. Get back to your quarters; I’ll take the watch from here.”

Were retribution not imminent, the man would have been glad for the rest of the night to himself. As it was, he scuttled away, metaphorical tail between his legs, and Virgil stepped into the gloom. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust after he closed the door behind him, the lone lantern doing little against the oppressive darkness.

To his disappointment, Vyvian had yet to look up. It didn’t suit her, Virgil decided, to be slumped up against the wooden walls, arms held above her head. It was insulting, more than anything. From this angle, her face was in shadow, and for some ungodly reason this disturbed him.

“Oi, you.” He sat down on an upturned crate, watching the pirate closely. She didn’t seem particularly inclined to grace him with any interest whatsoever, yet decided better of it and looked up. Virgil frowned. One gray eye was surrounded by a nasty, purpling bruise, much like Lamont would likely have in his groin area tonight, and he could swear he saw at least two more on her face and neck. Insulting, yet again. Aside from this, Vyvian seemed alright. A little tired, but alright. She raised a brow at him, bemused.

Virgil, for once, didn’t know what to say.

“ Yes?” Vyvian had obviously grown sick of waiting for him to continue. Sighing lightly, he leant against one of the walls himself, pulling his legs up so that his heels rested on the crate also. Arms looped around his knees, he found the position rather comfortable. The captive shrugged to herself, before shifting in a vain attempt to make herself comfortable. For some reason, Virgil wished her luck. It was an alarmingly easy silence they fell into, he watching the lantern light play against the hold ceiling to the tune of the rocking ship, and she eyes closed, no doubt trying to think of some way to escape. The noose awaited her, if she didn’t. Somehow, that didn’t seem right either. Nothing did tonight.

They’d met before, he and Vyvian. He hadn’t known it at the time and, though he’d been annoyed at her striking up a conversation with him, they’d bonded rather well. Over their mutual hatred of loose women, funnily enough. Though he’d never admit it, it was one of Virgil’s fonder memories, as they had pointed out the various Warf-side sluts and their horrifically skanky outfits. It was so rare to find an intelligent woman, he’d mused later. A pity they always seemed to be pirates. Dirty, dirty pirates.

Ah, but Vyvian wasn’t dirty now, was she.

“How do you cope with it?” He was surprised to hear his own voice, and blinked a few times. No, he’d definitely spoken. Vyvian’s eyes were open again, and she was watching him calmly.

“Cope with what?”

Ah, now this was awkward. He knew she was a virgin, she’d had no shame admitting it, so perhaps this wasn’t such a problem with her. That and her crew was horrifically loyal to her, he’d seen that in action. That must make such a difference. Still, he’d started this. He made some vague, pointless motion with his left hand to buy a few seconds. “Cope with…being alone.”

It sounded so weak that he wanted to shoot himself. He wasn’t some teenage boy, after all. Stupid moment of weakness. Vyvian, however, merely tilted her head as much as her bonds would allow. She was actually, seriously thinking it over. No laughter, no mocking smiles. Virgil felt himself relax ever so slightly.

“I suppose I don’t really think about it.” The pirate slowly replied, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow. “There’s no point, really, as I’m not expecting anything from anyone, romance wise. Unfortunately, people are awfully fickle, save for in my books of course. That, and no-one else is…well…”

“Is what?” Virgil was honestly curious, for some reason. He’d never had anyone agree with him before.

“Is saving themselves.” She finished, smiling a little and shaking her head. “I guess I’m old fashioned, but I honestly think if you’re going to do anything at all, you should be in a committed relationship. Why sully yourself with someone who will just drop you when someone more interesting comes alone?”

He frowned, staring hard at the wood across from him. He’d done just that, loath at he was to admit it. He was dirty. Not as filthy as the others on board this stinking vessel, but dirty just the same. Ironic, really, that the purest person was shackled below deck and branded as a pirate. Doomed to die that way, if things ran their course. He’d never been especially poetic – waste of time, poetry was – yet it was somewhat…somewhat…

You know what, forget the poetry.

“You aren’t curious?”

Vyvian seemed to consider a little, before chuckling. “I’d be lying to say no. However, I’m relatively sure it isn’t worth screwing any old person just to find out. I’d rather die wondering than regretting.”

“It’s not.” Oops. That had come out a little more bitter than he’d expected, and despite this he was unable to keep the scowl from gnawing at his features. A bad move, because now Vyvian was curious.

“I wasn’t expecting you to know, honestly.” She replied, though there was nothing degrading in the way she said it. Despite this, Virgil couldn’t help but tense up. “You didn’t seem the type to – “

“I’m not.” The pure disgust that laced his tone was enough to make Vyvian flinch, and Virgil didn’t care. He felt insulted, degraded by what she was implying. “I may not be as inexperienced as you, but I am not a whore. How dare you, how dare you even – “

“I didn’t say that.” Though soft, Vyvian’s retort was more than enough to shut him up. Ah, that was right. She dealt with children, so was used to this sort of thing. Not willing to admit that she was right, Virgil occupied himself by crossing his arms, in a rather childish manner, and placing both feet exactly within the boarders of the floorboards. Exactly. Again, silence enveloped the room, though both occupants were slightly more tense than before. After moments clichéd and turned into hours, Virgil felt composed enough to speak again, to try and redeem himself. He shouldn’t have to, shouldn’t have to say anything at all, yet felt a need to. For some reason, he felt he had to justify himself.

“I was sixteen,” What a crappy way to start. Were Vyvian showing anything, anything at all other than just an attentive expression, he would have left then and there from embarrassment. He continued, not game to look at her again. “The works, really. Pimples, ranging hormones, and horribly insecure. Everyone was talking about sex, everyone’s bloody obsessed with it at that age, and I felt as though I was missing out on something vital, something I couldn’t possibly be without.”

He snorted bitterly, the corners of his lips drooping further into a scowl. “In hindsight, the stories I was told were sensationalised, massively blown out of proportion, and I was a stupid idiot for believing them. Even so, I decided to give it a try. First of all with a man. Bastard was as inconsiderate as most men out there, all for himself and done far too quickly. That, and he smelt like he’d been through the city dump once or twice. Poor choosing on my part, but most of the smell was covered by his clothes. The second one, a girl, gods. No idea what I was thinking. Complete floozy, attempted some form of ‘dirty talk’ with me and left some horrid brand of lipstick absolutely everywhere. That, and she was loud. Loud in a very fake manner.”

His mouth felt furry merely remembering. That both of his partners had been seen with other people within the week didn’t need to be said. “Of course, not everyone’s like that.” He said aloud, before catching himself, eyes widening. Daring a quick glance at the pirate, he hurriedly added. “I’m only telling you this because I have some vague, stupid notion that you’ll understand it. It will not leave this room.”

“Naturally.” Again, that infuriating lack of patronisation. Vyvian seemed to take everything in her stride, as if nothing he said could truly surprise her. Perhaps it couldn’t; Pirates were known for being witness to all manner of things, and from the bounty on her Vyvian was sure to have seen many of them. That she’d managed to remain so true, stubbornly so, to herself was something he found almost admirable. Oh, to hell with the act, he did admire her. He’d never admit it, though.

Silence seemed to be a feature of their relationship, if you could even call it that. They’d been through three types this evening, and this was by far the most embarrassing for Virgil. For once in his life, he actually wondered, worried, about what someone thought of him. Was Vyvian writing him off as cheap, a whore, as they sat there? Or was she merely ingesting all he’d told her, more than he’d told anyone, while he worried. He’d stood while talking, most likely had paced, and now felt self-conscious about it. Was she watching him? He missed the crate this time, sinking to the floor closer to her, their boots a few centimetres apart. Why wasn’t she saying anything?

He was about ready to leave, feeling like an idiot for saying anything, when Vyvian spoke up again. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“It is.” His tone was sharp, flinted with years of bitterness. “I sullied myself with – “

“It was an experience.” Vyvian cut in smoothly, arching a brow. “As you said earlier, it meant nothing, and it’s not like you’ve whored yourself out. You tried something, you didn’t like it. Isn’t it like that with most things in life?”

She had a point, damn it all.

“If you ask me…” For the first time during their conversation, Vyvian’s voice held an edge of hesitation. “If you ask me, it seems as if you feel you’ve wronged your body somehow by trying out a very basic human act, and can’t forgive yourself for it.”

For once, Virgil was speechless. No-one, absolutely no-one, on board ever tried to give him advice about anything, especially something so personal. He was caught somewhere between yelling at Vyvian for daring to do so, daring to judge him, and coming to terms with the fact that she hadn’t judged him at all, and that she was right.

“What would you know.” He settled for the bitter answer. It seemed to be the theme for the evening. “You’ve done nothing like it.”

“No.” She was amicable, nodding. “I haven’t. And I’m probably going to die wondering.”

Another dampener to the evening. Though Vyvian’s voice had been light, Virgil wasn’t fooled. She was frightened. He didn’t blame her. Hanging certainly wasn’t the most pleasant way to go, especially if things went wrong. It didn’t seem fair. Life wasn’t fair, though, was it. Vyvian was squirming again, no doubt uncomfortable, and already Virgil could see raw patches around her wrists from where the shackles were rubbing. It would take days to reach Argonia and, by that time, they’d be bleeding.

“Stop that.” He ordered gruffly, scooting closer and kneeling up to hold her wrists still. The cuffs were too tight, that was the problem. Probably that drunken idiot who had done it without realising. For some reason, this angered Virgil more than anything else. He’d seen the Anna-Louise, seen how pristine it was. For its captain to suffer due to some stupid oversight wasn’t right, and it was actually something he could fix. Vyvian was still as he worked above her, completely calm. She shouldn’t be, she’d be dead within the week, Virgil thought crossly. No-one should be this composed, not even as a façade. The chains were slightly looser now, and he let himself fall back onto his heels. They were a lot closer now, he noticed, and this didn’t aggravate him, for some reason. Despite her profession, her situation, Vyvian smelt wonderfully fresh. She must wash frequently, Virgil thought absently, tilting his head to study her. She wasn’t pretty, never would be, yet she was surprisingly striking. It fit her; Somehow, Virgil felt that being pretty would undermine the authority she always seem to had.

Would have always had. That nagging thought that soon, the one pure person he’d ever met would be dead, just kept coming back. Worse, there was nothing he could do about it.

“Forgive me this.” He mumbled, frowning. Vyvian tilted her head, curious, and Virgil took the moment for another first to match his apology. He kissed her, of his own free will. It was a rather quick, rather soft affair from his own hesitations and their awkward positions, yet with Vyvian not pulling away, unable to really, Virgil decided to try again before she could say anything. The second kiss, while nothing spectacular, was slightly longer, slightly deeper, and despite himself, Virgil felt his eyes closed. She didn’t taste of old bread, nasty cheese or another man. Vyvian tasted…fresh. Slightly metallic even, and delightfully cool.

At the last though, Virgil pulled away and just stared, surprised at himself. Six years down the drain, and he didn’t regret a second of the two minutes it had lasted. Vyvian looked somewhat bewildered, blinking up at him with her large, gray eyes. Not disgusted, not angry, just surprised. Virgil shook his head, standing. The next watch would be coming soon, and they both needed to think.

“I’ll…be back tomorrow.” God dammit, now he looked like an idiot. A hand on the door, he glanced back, unsure as how to continue. “I…well. It’s one less thing for you to wonder about.”

And he left, not waiting for a reply. It was only later, collapsed on his back in his cabin, that he realised what Vyvian had tasted like. Cold blood.