Chapter Ten

Abandon ship

Wherein Spy!Daddy finds out about the Sarkney, Sark goes for a swim and Sydney lusts after a wet!Sark

 

“Hi Dad,” she pretended nothing was amiss as she let Julian help her up.  She noticed a faint yellow and pinkish tint to the horizon.  “Your turn to man the wheel?  We’ll just go catch some sleep then.”

 

She grabbed up her cloak and corset in one hand and Julian’s arm in the other, dragging him past her father and hastily down below deck.  They paused, breathing quietly, at the bottom of the stairs.

 

“That went well,” Julian breathed into her ear.

 

“Yes.  A little too well,” she whispered back, glancing over to make sure they hadn’t woke Marshall, he snored obliviously on.  Grabbing Julian’s hand she pulled him quietly behind her to the other bunk.

 

He eyed it skeptically, “It appears rather narrow.”

 

She removed her boots and dropped to the bunk, scooting against the wall, “I think we can manage,” she patted the lumpy mattress invitingly.

 

He sat down on the bunk to remove his boots then laid on his back as she draped herself over him.  “See. Cozy,” she smiled and shifted against him, making herself comfy.

 

He threaded a hand through her hair and wrapped an arm around her waist, “And it makes it difficult for your father to shoot me while I sleep.”

 

She giggled and closed her eyes, lulled to sleep by the reassuring sound of his heartbeat.

 

 

A yelp jolted her awake and before she could get her bearings she was shoved roughly back against the wall, her head banging against the wooden planks.  Blinking her eyes she found herself staring at Julian’s back as he sat up on the edge of the bunk.  Moving forward a little the rest of the scene unfolded.

 

Marshall was sitting on his bunk, wide eyed and clutching the black hat he’d found.  Julian was staring blankly at Marshall, his arms extended in front of him, his gun pointed at the very still Marshall.

 

She slid her hand along Julian’s arm and he lowered the gun.  He blinked several times, “My apology Mr. Flinkman, you startled me.”

 

Marshall’s eyes flickered back and forth, between Julian and her behind him on the bunk, “I woke up, forgot where I was, then…I’m going upstairs.”  He scrambled off the bunk and up the stairs, slipping slightly.

 

She lay back on the bunk as Julian flicked the safety on and slid the gun back under the pillow.

 

“He startled me,” Julian repeated lying back down on his side.

 

“Me too,” she smiled and turned on to her side, pulling him closer to her.  Cuddling together she smiled into his chest, “It was very chivalrous of you to move me behind you.”

 

His hand slid under her blouse and stroked her back, “Not really, you were just in my way.”

 

She giggled and tried to scoot closer, tangling her legs with his, “This is going rather well.”

 

He hmmm’ed sleepily into her hair.

 

“Eric knows, my dad knows and now Marshall knows.”

 

“And that’s good?” he questioned.

 

“Makes it easier when I tell them I’m not going back,” she slid her own hand under his shirt to run her hand over the muscles in his back.

 

He shifted on the mattress and sighed into her hair.

 

“Julian?” she waited, “We should get up.”

 

The sound of his even breathing was her only reply.  Smiling she let her eyes slip close and her breathing evened out.

 

 

Marshall hastily clambered up the stairs, or were they ladders on boats, slipping on one step before bursting out on the deck.  Taking a shakily breath he plucked his neat hat onto his head.  Waking up in the bunk had certainly thrown him until he’d remembered where he was, what had happened, but when he’d rolled over to see Sydney and Mister Sark sleeping, together, well that was more than he could handle.  At least he hadn’t been shot, that would have been bad.

 

Mister Bristow looked up at him as he approached, “I heard a ruckus.”

 

He froze, clutching at his cool, red vest-coat.  He couldn’t tell Mister Bristow that his daughter was sharing a bunk with Mister Sark could he?  He cleared his throat, “I didn’t remember where I was when I woke up.”

 

When Mister Bristow merely nodded he let out a sigh of relief.  Looking around he noticed land was quite close now, he also realized he needed to visit the restroom, which was below deck, where Sydney and Mister Sark were.  He decided to wait.

 

 

Climbing up the stairs an hour or so later Sydney stretched, arms over her head and up on her tip toes.  Julian’s hand rested against the small of her back, steadying her.  She started to smile at him then frowned, there were no sounds from the engine.

 

She wandered over to the engine cabin with Julian behind her.  Her father, a bundle packed with what they’d managed to scrounge from the boat at his feet, gave her that look he reserved for when he’d thought she’d done something particularly foolish but was going to wait to lecture her about it at a more appropriate time.

 

“What’s going on?” she pretended, as usual, not to notice said look.

 

“It’s out of gas,” Marshall, pointed black hat perched jauntily on his head, popped out of the cabin.  “Well it might not be gas, gas, like we know it, but it’s out of it, whatever it is.”

 

“We should have gotten rid of the hat last night when we had the chance,” Julian murmured nearly inaudibly into her ear.

 

Her dad scowled at them, probably because of how close Julian was not that he’d heard him, “We’re not that far from land.”

 

Everyone moved over to the railing, they were almost to the shore, close enough to swim for it if they had too.  Scanning the shore she perked up, “Look, a rowboat.”

 

Not far from there position, drug up on the beach, sat a rowboat, two oars resting beside it.

 

“Someone can swim to shore and row the boat back out to us,” her dad proclaimed.

 

Her gaze automatically landed on Julian, and hers wasn’t the only one.

 

He was scrutinizing the boat still so it took him a moment to realize everyone was staring at him, “What?”

 

Everyone continued to stare at him, she a little apologetically.

 

“Why do I have to go?” he grouchily complained.

 

“I can only doggie paddle,” Marshall demonstrated.

 

Heaving a very put upon sigh, he began removing his boots.  After lining them up neatly against the railing he reached over his shoulder and pulled his shirt over his head.  The bright sun gilded his back and tousled blonde hair, her mouth might have dropped open a bit.  He folded his shirt apparently unaware of her staring then handed the garment over to her, smirking at her once her father couldn’t see, so, not so unaware.

 

Clutching the shirt to her chest she closely watched the rippling muscles of his back and arms as he climbed over the railing and with another sigh, dropped into the blue water.  Hastening over to the railing she avidly watched as he broke the surface and with smooth, powerful strokes started swimming.  The sunlight gleamed off the sparkling water flowing over his back as he swam towards the beach.  His hair was dark and plastered to his head.

 

“Did you say something?” Marshall’s question dragged her gaze from Julian’s wet, bare, rippling back.

 

She blinked at him and loosened the strangle hold she had on Julian’s shirt, “No.”  She skipped her glance at her father to see his disapproving stare.  Turning resolutely away she was just in time to see Julian walked out of the water and onto the beach.  Glistening water streamed down his muscular back and over his very wet trousers which were molded to him more than ever.

 

She buried her mouth in his shirt lest she whimper or drool.  She shifted uncomfortable on her feet as Julian got the rowboat into the water and was now rowing it out to their position.  He was facing away from them and the lean muscles of his back and arms rippled wetly in the sunlight as he worked the oars through the water.  She might have whimpered then.

 

There was a bit of confusion as they decided best how to get down to the rowboat.  Some ropes where found and they tried to tie the rowboat to the larger boat, that worked to some extent.  The pack’s, along with the bundle of Julian’s shirt and boots, were dropped first then her dad, reluctantly, told her to go next.

 

Climbing over the railing she carefully eased herself down the side, dropping the last distance to the rowboat.  Julian’s strong hands caught her waist and steadied her.

 

“Thanks,” she breathed over her shoulder to him.

 

“My pleasure milady,” he husked into her ear.

 

Shivering she moved out of the way for Marshall.  He fell awkwardly into the boat, Julian catching him so he didn’t fall out, though the black hat fell into the water and sunk out of sight.  She wasn’t completely sure, but she thought she’d caught Julian’s hand tipping the hat off Marshall’s head.  Marshall glanced forlornly after the hat then moved to the opposite end of the boat.  Her dad dropped neatly down and scowled at Julian when the younger man made to steady him.  Julian smiled blandly back.

 

Everyone sat, ropes were undone and Julian set the oars, rowing them towards the shore.  By happenstance her father and Marshall were seated to Julian’s back while she was seated facing him, and his rippling chest and arm muscles as he pulled on the oars, drawing them closer to the shore.

 

Her father had already caught her kissing Julian and Marshall had seen them sleeping together so what harm was there if they happened to see her avidly running her gaze over all the slick, taut flesh before her.  Julian smirked lazily at her as he leaned towards her then away, rowing.  She shifted uncomfortable on her seat, her nails digging into her knees.

 

Interlude Three ~ Interlude Four ~ Tell us a Tale