#unless im lucky and they ship it before release!!!

[le-trash-prince]

counting down the days until my copy of sono koi jihanki de kaemasu ka ships *A*

[imagineyourworld]

Could you match me up with someone from the Star Wars universe ? Thank you <3

Name : Rayanne

Age : 22

Which gender you wanna be paired with :

Male, i’m heterosexual , pronouns: she/her

Occupation : i’m artistic so i’m studying to be a graphic designer/photographer. i also love to write so maybe someday i will write my own book or series. i really want to be involved in the film industry.

Hobbies : writing, drawing, taking photographs, reading, studying world, art and war history.

Personality (a few strengths and flaws) :

i’m on the quiet side but i’m not against talking to others. i’m an observer and i feel i work best behind the scenes and i’m happy to do so. i’ve been described as kind, funny, mysterious, and cozy. i love kids and i really want to be a mother. i’m patient and i’m a hard worker and any time i’ve ever been a part of a team they are always relieved that i’m there and express it verbally too. i always work my hardest even if im exhausted. i guess you could say i’m the backbone of the group. i always comfort others too and reassure them that things will be okay. i’ve been told i’m emotionally intelligent.

Flaws ? i would say my temper. It takes a lot for me to be bothered but if you bother anyone i love i lose my temper pretty quickly. i also tend to hide what’s bothering me and push through my struggles alone. i don’t like to talk about my feelings with others unless it will help them have an example on how to deal with their own struggles. i put others before me so i guess i fail at taking care of my own mental health too. Idk i feel as a leader i can’t show that i’m struggling myself.

Specific character I don't wanna be paired with :

Greef Karga. idk he feels too much like a grandpa to me haha. Also anyone who is married such as Anakin or Han. No aliens either so just a human or clone.

Anything else that might be helpful :

i struggle with anxiety and depression. i dress in dark colors but also femininely. i have long wavy brown hair and full front bangs. i have green eyes and light tan skin. i’m short. ( 5 ft exactly haha ) In the Star Wars world, i think i would be a medic or maybe even a scout of some sort since i’m quiet and can go unnoticed. i’d prefer knives and a blaster as my weapon. Also i get shy with intimacy in public so i’m more private about that. Hugs and hand holding in public are fine but making out in public makes me anxious.

Hi Rayanne,

Thanks for your request! Based on what you told me about yourself I would ship you with Hunter. You share a lot of similar characteristics, such as a similar work ethic and loving kids, as well as not really wanting to talk about your feelings. Hunter would be able to calm you down when your temper gets the better of you and he'd be there whenever things get rough. I hope you're happy with your ship.

Love, Charlie

-------

Your shift was almost over when the door to the medbay opened once again and Clone Force 99 entered. As soon as you recognized them you expected the worst, after all you knew how rough their missions could get, but a quick glance told you that none of them were hurt too bad, the worst seemed to be the black eye that stood out on Echo's pale skin. "Is this just gonna be a checkup or are there any injuries hidden underneath your armor?", you asked them. A proud grin appeared on Wrecker's face as they all settled down on various surfaces across the room. "None of us got hurt", he announced, to which Echo responded with a grumbled insult. You just nodded, put on your gloves and got to work. It turned out that Wrecker had been right, aside from a few minor scratches they had been lucky. One after the other you released them and told them to get some food and rest until only Hunter was left in the medbay. "Hey", he greeted, his voice much softer now that he no longer had to play the leader for his brothers. "Hey yourself", you repeated. You rolled the chair you were sitting on over to the bed Hunter was occupying. He leaned back until his weight rested on his hands, a small smile on his lips. Just before you reached him you looked around one last time, thanking the force that everyone else, even the droids, had vacated the medbay before the Bad Batch arrived. You stood up from your chair and let yourself fall down on the bed, right next to Hunter, who watched you with a small grin. "Long day?" "The longest", you confirmed. He chuckled as he pressed a kiss against your cheek. "That's too bad, I've been hoping to keep you up a while longer." Before he even finished his sentence a yawn left your lips. It really had been a rather long day and though you liked the idea of spending the evening with your boyfriend, glad he had returned to you safe and sound, you just couldn't keep your eyes open a second longer. "Just let me rest for five minutes, then we can do whatever you want." With another yawn you leaned your head against Hunter's shoulder, which resulted in him resting his own head on top of yours. "You should go to bed", he said after a few minutes of blissful silence. Slowly you turned your head to look at him. Maybe he was right, but you wanted to spend a few more minutes alone with him, and no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn't take him back to your room without risking anyone catching the two of you. "In a moment", you mumbled. "Tell me about your mission first." With a soft smile and an exaggerated eye roll Hunter obliged, he never could deny you anything.

"And that's basically it. All the way back Crosshair kept complaining about the cold, I don't think I'll ever get him to go back to Hoth", Hunter ended his story. Though he hadn't been talking long, it had been a short mission after all, you had fallen asleep over the course of his report. Slowly and carefully, as not to wake you, he lifted your head from his shoulder and moved your body until you were laying down on the bed. In the corner he spotted a couple of blankets stacked on a chair and brought one over to you. It was too thin and too rough, so unlike the soft blanket he had once brought you from a mission to Alderaan, but it would have to do. As he covered you with the blanket and tugged it around your shoulders he could hear you mumble in your sleep. Though most of it were sounds rather than actual words, he could make out his name, followed by a quiet "love you". A soft smile appeared on his face. He didn't know what he had done to deserve someone like you, to deserve your love, but he knew that he would to whatever it took to prove himself worthy of it. "I love you too, cyare", he whispered before he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Sleep now, you need it." With one last glance at your sleeping body he turned out the lights before leaving the medbay. One day, he promised himself. I won't have to leave. I can fall asleep and wake up next to you. One day...

-------

I hope you enjoyed this small trip to the medbay with Hunter.

[terrayoung]

A Delicate Balance

A @dctvsecretsanta fic for @drnathanielheywood, who asked for: team legends stealing Christmas presents through time and Nate/Mick. It’s in Nate’s 2nd person p.o.v.

Fic is under the cut - I hope you enjoy!

"Pleeeeeeeaaaaaassssseeee?" Ray asks, holding out a bowl full of paper slips. "Wally and Mick already agreed - though Mick might've just done it to get me to leave him alone - and I'm sure the others will, too!" He widens his eyes. "I'd really appreciate it! Secret Santa is just the kind of bonding activity we need right now!"

You sigh. Damn those puppy-dog eyes. "Okay, fine. But you owe me an Indiana Jones marathon. And I mean all the movies - even Crystal Skull."

"That's fair."

Ray thrusts the bowl even closer to you. You close your eyes, pray that you get someone easy to shop for, and rummage around in the bowl for your lucky slip. Fingers on your free hand crossed, you unfold the paper. In scrawled black writing is two words and an emoji, "Mick Rory :)". Ray's looking at you expectantly, so you force a smile on your face.

"Didn't get myself, buddy, so I guess that's good," you say. 

"Yep!" Ray beams. "Oh, and before I forget - Mick suggested being able to steal the gifts. Long as you don't take it/them from the less fortunate, it's fair game." He pulls you into a brief, one-armed hug. "Thanks, Nate!"

You watch as Ray leaves your room, then finally let the smile slip off your face. "What the fuck do I do now? Um, Gideon?"

"Yes, Dr. Heywood?" Gideon asks.

"Any ideas on what I could get Mick for the Secret Santa?"

"I'm afraid Dr. Palmer requested that I not give anyone advice about their giftees." She almost sounds regretful. "He said it would be considered cheating."

"Gee, thanks a lot," you mutter.

"You're welcome!"

"Damn AI."

"I heard that," Gideon warns. 

You throw up your hands in frustration and flop onto your bed. After a few seconds, you roll over so you can scream into a pillow. You roll over again a few seconds after that since the lack of oxygen is getting to your head. 

What on Earth could you possibly get - or steal - for Mick? You put too little effort into this and he'll burn you to a crisp, but putting too much effort in would be like a neon sign telling him about your crush. Anything fire-related is too obvious and you know nothing about what he'd need for crime. It's probably too soon to give Mick a new rat and he could just fabricate himself some beer. What does he even like to do?

...Wait. You vaguely remember Mick being super gung-ho about vampires - he was even reading a special edition copy of Dracula. Maybe that's something you can work with. 

 XxXx

  You knock on Sara's door the next day. It takes a few seconds for her to open it, by which point you're already rocking back and forth on your heels. 

"Can I help you?" Sara asks, rubbing at her eyes. 

You nod. "Mind if I borrow the jump ship for a few hours? I think I know what to get my Secret Santa."

"Promise to never wake me up at..." She grabs your wrist, drags it towards her, and checks the time on your watch. "At 6AM ever again?"

"What if there's a life-threatening emergency?"

"If it's before 9AM, I don't care."

"Then, yes, I promise," you say, giving Sara a mock solute.

Sara releases your wrist and waves you away. "Fine. Go. Have fun shopping or stealing or what-the-fuck-ever. I'm going back to sleep."

"Sleep -" You're cut off by Sara sliding the door shut on you- "well." You run a hand through your hair. "Next stop, late nineteenth century." A few steps towards the jump ship remind you that you're still wearing your slippers. "After a trip to the fabrication room."

 XxXx

 You're barely out of the fabrication room - and still trying to fix your tie - when you run into Mick. Literally. Your forehead slams right into his chin. You stumble back, clutching your head, while he just stands there like a brick wall. A very well-muscled brick wall...

You shake your head - causing it to ache some more - to get your brain back on track. Mick raises an eyebrow. 

"You okay there, Pretty?" Mick asks. His gravelly voice rattles through your bones. "Sounded like you hit me pretty hard."

You rub your forehead one last time, then let your arm drop. "Think I'm gonna have one hell of a headache, but I'll live. How are you not in any pain?"

"I am." Mick shrugs. "But I've lived through worse." He stops, stares at your chest, and then rolls his eyes. You have two seconds to blink before Mick's closer than you'd ever hoped he'd get. 

"Umm, Mick?" You'll swear on every bible in the country that your voice didn't just crack. "What's goin' on?"

"Fixing your stupid tie," Mick mutters. 

There's a spark each time his hands brush against your chest. Mick's face is so close to yours and it takes every bit of your willpower to not lean in for a kiss. You don't even realize that you were holding your breath until Mick steps back and it all rushes out of you. 

Mick smirks, proud of his handiwork. "There ya go." He looks you up and down. "Where're you going? Didn't think we had a mission today."

"We - we don't," you reply. "I'm going to go get my Secret Santa's gift." You run a hand through your hair. "No idea how Ray managed to convince all of us to do that, by the way."

Mick just grunts and shrugs. 

"Anyway, um, I'm going to go do that -" you gesture vaguely in the direction of the jump ship -"and I'll see you later?"

"...Sure." Mick steps around you and heads down the hallway. He calls over his shoulder, "Long as you don't get yourself killed."

You're not sure if Mick thinks you're likely to, or if this is his own way of showing concern. It's been a couple of years since you met him and you're no closer to having him figured out. Luckily, you've always been a fan of mysteries. Not as much as histories, but -

You shake your head. Now is really not the time for your train of thought to run off the tracks. You give yourself a few seconds to remember Mick's closeness, then return to heading off to the jump ship. You've got a gift to track down. 

 XxXx

 "Why couldn't this have been a normal trip to Ye Olde Bookshoppe?" You mutter. "Oh, wait, normal flew out the window once I stepped onboard a freaking timeship!" 

"Be quiet!" Van Helsing - Abigail Van Helsing - hisses. "Unless you want the vampire to get us!" 

You hold up your hands, then mime zipping your mouth shut. Van Helsing just frowns before turning to look out of the alleyway. 

You'd started out going to buy an original copy of Dracula for Mick, planning on getting it signed by Bram Stoker himself. But then a fucking vampire had literally crashed the party! Then Van Helsing followed it through, announced she would take care of the beast, and then chased after it. You'd declared your intention to help, and well, here you are now. Somewhere in the middle you've managed to figure out that Dracula was loosely based on a true story. Very loosely, if Van Helsing being named Abigail instead of Abraham and the vampire not having much in the way of sentience are any indication. 

"It's coming," Van Helsing whispers. "You distract it with your "powers"-" how is she able to sound like she's miming air quotes a century before they were a thing?- "and then I'll stab it in the chest. Is that understood?" 

You nod, then steel up. Van Helsing's eyes widen. As soon as you hear the vampire scuffle past, you step out of the alleyway. The sun gleams off of your silver skin and attracts the vampire's attention. You slowly back away to lure it closer and closer to Van Helsing. Once you've moved far enough, you give her a thumbs-up. 

Van Helsing may not recognize the gesture, but she knows a signal when she sees one and jumps towards the vampire. There's a bit of a struggle - most of which is on the vampire's end - and then it's over as soon as it began. Van Helsing brushes the dust off her knife. 

"Thank you," Van Helsing says after a moment. "That would have been a lot more difficult without your help."

You shrug before de-steeling. "No problem. Mind if I ask you a question?"

"I suppose I owe you that much. What is it?"

"Do you know where I could find Bram Stoker?" You hold up the now slightly battered copy of Dracula. "I've got a book for him to sign."

 XxXx

 Bram Stoker looks from you, to Dracula, and then back to you. "You want me to write a dedication to someone I've never even heard of?"

"Yes, please," you answer. "He's a huge fan - uh, admirer - of your writing, and would greatly appreciate your signing the book. I'm planning on giving it to him for Christmas."

"A rare thing for two unrelated men to do," Stoker replies, "but not an unappreciated one. What is your young man's name?"

"He's not young - or mine - but -" You take a breath- "Mick Rory."

Stoker nods. He thinks for a moment, dips his pen in an inkwell, and jots down a few words. "Here you go, Dr. Heywood." Stoker pushes the book back to you. "I hope Mr. Rory takes to this gift."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Stoker!" You barely glance at the dedication before snapping the book shut. "I have to get going, but it was very nice to meet you!"

"Same to you."

 XxXx

 The next person you literally run into is Zari, as you're exiting the jump ship. It affects her more than you, but neither of you get too hurt. Which is great - you still have a lingering headache from your encounter with Mick. 

"Thanks for that," Zari snarks. "Long as you're here, though - any ideas on what to get Hunter? I've only met the man twice, so I'm kinda at a loss."

You snort. "That's a first." You sober up at Zari's withering glare. "Um, I didn't really know 'im too well either. Think I remember someone mentioning he's really into Wild West stuff? That and antiques."

"So shop for you, but lean towards cowboy crap," Zari summarizes. "Got it." She gestures to the jump ship. "Just leaving or just returning?"

"Returning." You step out of Zari's way. "Go right ahead." Before she can get too far, you hold up Dracula and add, "For Mick - what do you think? It's an original copy and it's signed."

Zari shrugs. "He should like it. May even get you that kiss you want."

"Kiss? Why would I want a -" You slump. "How'd you know?"

"You're nowhere near as subtle as you think you are," Zari answers. "Surprised he hasn't noticed - I'm aromantic and I picked up on it ages ago." She hangs in the doorway. "Good luck, though."

"Thank -" Zari shuts the door- "you." You run a hand through your hair. "Why does that keep happening to me?"

 XxXx

 Ray knocks on your door just as you're putting stuffing the last of the tissue paper into the bag containing Mick's gift. You tell him to let himself in, then scribble a note on the to/from sticker. Hopefully your handwriting isn't too distinctive. 

You sit up, expecting Ray to start info-dumping about some new science fact or his latest project, but he's pacing silently instead. It takes about five minutes for concern to override just letting him be. 

"Uh, Ray?" You begin. "You okay there, buddy?"

Ray hesitates before shaking his head. He then leans against the closest wall. 

"What's up? Do you need some paper to write on?"

"Nah," Ray answers. "Just figuring out what to say - I'm not non-verbal atm." He sighs. "Um, I already got my Secret Santa's gift, but... ButIwasthinkingofgettingNoraagifttoo."

You stand up and rest a hand on Ray's shoulder. "I'm totally here for you, but would you mind repeating that for me? My ears can't process your words when you're speaking at a hundred miles an hour."

"Sorry. I said I was thinking of getting Nora a gift, too," Ray confesses. "But I don't know where she is, how to get it to her if I did, or if she even celebrates Christmas. Or how she'd react." Ray smiles sheepishly. "Y'know, with her being a former bad guy and all."

"Yeah, I had the same problem with Mick."

Ray jerks his head up so quickly, you fling your hand out in shock. You can feel a blush spreading across your cheeks.

"Okay, if you agree to ignore the implications there, I'll agree to ignore you implying that you still have a thing for Nora," you say. 

"Fine by me." Ray smiles. "For what it's worth, I think Mick likes you back. I mean, he does call you "Pretty"."

You shrug. "Thinking I'm hot doesn't equal feelings, but thanks. And good luck with Nora. I don't think she's the best person to crush on, but you do you, Ray." You smirk. "Or her." Ray jokingly punches you in the arm. "Hey!" 

"So, assuming I find Nora, you think I should get her something?" Ray asks. 

"Yeah, man. You could always pass it off as a "just because" gift if she's not a Christmas person." 

Ray pulls you into a brief hug. "Thank you for the advice and friendly ear." 

"No problemo."

Ray shakes his head, still smiling, and exits your room. He gives you a wave as the door closes.

 XxXx 

 A few days later, it's finally the moment of truth. Or to put it less dramatically - the day you all exchange your Secret Santa gifts. The result of you shoving in the tissue paper is a bag that's a little messy and half-hazard looking, but you feel it's appropriate. There's more to it than its rough exterior - just like Mick. 

You're the first one on the bridge. You place your gift by the center console and then pour yourself a drink. Maybe it'll help calm your nerves. 

"Great idea, Pretty." Mick's rumbling voice makes you jump - you hadn't heard him approach. Thankfully the glass didn't spill any more than a couple of drops. Mick brushes past you to pour himself... something. You're too busy trying not to shudder from that brief moment of contact. 

"Hey, um, Mick," you finally reply. "Have any trouble finding a gift?"

Mick shrugs. "Wrapping it was the worst part. Ended up just shoving it into a box."

"Yeah, I -"

Whatever you were about to say next is cut off by a deluge of Legends flooding onto the bridge. Several different conversations overlap as people try to put their gifts by the console without tripping over each other. You decide to find a comfortable spot to sit before all the good ones are taken. To your surprise, Mick grabs the one next to you. 

"So, who wants to go first?" Ray asks, once everyone has settled down. 

Sara nods at him. "It was your idea." 

Ray stammers and protests for a bit, but gives in once everyone starts chanting his name. He picks up a small, thin present that has dark blue wrapping paper with silver atoms. Ray tears through the paper less gently than expected to reveal a frame with a photo inside. It's a candid shot of him and a brunette woman - Anna, maybe - sitting on a park bench somewhere and laughing. Ray hastily wipes away a few tears. 

"Thank you," he begins, "whoever, um -"

Rip raises a hand. "I always wished there were more photos of Miranda and myself after she..." he clears his throat. "I hope it's alright that I-"

Before Rip can finish his sentence, Ray all but tackles him with a hug. Rip awkwardly pats his back for a bit, then gently pulls back. 

The rest of the gifts are less emotionally fraught, though no less meaningful. Ava receives two photos - one of her and Sara and one of her with the team - and a hug from Ray. Wally opens an awkwardly wrapped meditation fountain from Ava and gives Sara a set of throwing knives. Sara gives Zari a blanket with various video game symbols and characters, and Zari in turn gives Rip a hat and book from the Old West. Only you and Mick are left, which grants you both significant looks from everyone else. 

"Guess it's pretty obvious who yours is from," you joke to Mick. He grunts and goes to pick up one of the two remaining gifts. 

Your heart is in your throat as Mick carefully pulls out the tissue paper. He frowns at what's inside, but it smooths out once he picks up Dracula. 

"Original edition?" Mick murmurs. "Nice."

You swallow hard. "Look inside the front cover."

Mick does so, his eyebrows lifting as he reads whatever message Stoker left him. "Huh. Thanks, Nate."

Hearing someone call you by your first name usually doesn't send butterflies fluttering in your stomach, but your thing for Mick isn't that usual to begin with. 

"My turn, then." You stand up, grab the sole remaining box, and settle back down in your spot. 

The box is wrapped in simple silver paper and topped with a red bow. You stick the bow to your shirt before unwrapping the gift. First in the box is a photo of Harrison Ford in full Indiana Jones gear, complete with jacket. Underneath that, carefully folded up, is the exact same jacket in surprisingly good condition. 

"Is this -? Did you -?" You're at a loss for words. 

Mick avoids your gaze. "Stole it off the set. I added the picture so you could tell it's the same one."

"Thank you so much." Before you can stop yourself, you pull Mick into the best sideways hug you can manage. Your skin tingles all over when you finally let go, which almost distracts you from noticing that Mick's cheeks are a bit red. Huh. 

Sara pulls you from your thoughts by tapping something - a pen? - against a whisky bottle. "Now that the presents are done with, let's get drunk!"

Most of the team cheers and makes a beeline for the drink cart. Ray switches on some music after clarifying that it's secular Christmas/winter-themed songs only. Mick stands up and nods towards the drinks. 

"You want anything?" Mick asks. 

'A kiss' is what you want to say. What actually comes out of your mouth is, "Not right now. Thanks, though."

Mick grunts in the affirmative before leaving you alone to stew. Which lasts all of five seconds due to Wally zooming over to capture the newly open spot. 

"Y'know, I could get some mistletoe over here without Mick noticing," Wally whispers. "Wouldn't even take two seconds." 

You shake your head. "And make Mick mad at the both of us? Nah. I've known him for this long without him making good on his threats. A little longer would be nice."

Wally face palms, then leaves without saying anything more. He rushes back and - sue enough, there's a mistletoe hanging above where you're sitting. You roll your eyes and go to take it down. Unfortunately, tearing it off causes you to fall back from the amount of force you'd used. You're caught by strong arms before you can hit the ground. 

You look up to find that Mick's your timely rescuer - hero, a part of you whispers - and hastily right yourself on your own two feet. "Uh, thanks, Mick."

"What was that about?" Mick raises an eyebrow. "You shouldn't be drunk already."

"I'm not! It's just -"

"Just...?"

"Wally was trying to play a prank on us," you explain, "and I nearly fell over trying to get it down." You hold up the mistletoe and feel a blush start to spread across your face. "Funny, right?"

"What's funny? You nearly cracking your head open?" Mick asks. 

"No, um, uh-" you look down at the floor- "Wally thinking that making us kiss was a good idea for a prank. I mean, the idea of you and me -"

Mick catches your chin in his hand, tilting it up so your gazes meet. "'S not that bad an idea, actually."

"What - You - I -"

Before you can embarrass yourself even further, Mick pulls you into a kiss. You freeze for a moment, then surge forward to deepen it. Your hands settle on Mick's waist to tug him even closer. 

And then someone wolf-whistles. 

Mick sighs into your mouth, then gently pushes you away. "Should prob'ly continue this where we can have some privacy."

"My room's good," you reply. "Much closer than yours." You can't resist giving Mick another kiss. 

"Works for me, Pretty." Mick steps even farther back, then gestures to the nearest door. The two of you all but run out as you try to ignore all the teasing from the rest of the group. Sara shouts out to not do anything she wouldn't do. Like that's even that long of a list. 

...Which may have been the point. 

 XxXx 

 "Wait," you say, once you and Mick are finally in your room, "hang on a second, okay?"

Mick frowns but complies. "Y'not want to do this anymore?"

"For now?" You nod. "For now. It's just -" You run a hand through your hair. "I don't know if we're on the same page here, or if you even like me or anything."

"Would I kiss you if I didn't like you?" Mick asks.

"I mean, like me, like me. I mean -" moment of truth, here- "I'm in love with you. Have been for a while. Even when I was with Amaya, I think I felt something like that for you." Your eyes widen. "Not that I didn't love Amaya! It was just... both of you, I guess. Amaya and I were just starting to talk about it right before she, um, left." You pause to take a breath. "If you don't feel the same, that's fine, but - I don't want to do a friends with benefits thing if you don't. I don't think my heart could take it." It's a while before you can meet Mick's gaze. "So, that's where I'm at. How 'bout you?"

Mick folds his arms. "I'm not good at this feelings crap, but..." He sighs, then waves a hand around. "I feel the same. I think. 'm willing to give it a chance, anyway. Is that enough?"

"Yeah." You smile broadly. "Yeah, it is."

Mick shakes his head fondly - for him, at least - and then pulls you into another kiss. 

[my-dear-hammy]

The Ship Wars

Masterpost

Chapter Eleven: Two to One

AN

*wonders how much of my vagueness in certain situations gets noticed*

----

Warning: Do I even have to warn about smut in this anymore because dear god im going to hell.

----

Jefferson was not happy. Why? It wasn’t just Hamilton’s ship, there was also a French ship anchored right along the Hurricane’s broadside. From the looks of it, they weren't fighting either, which also meant that if Jefferson picked a fight, he was screwed. But the fact of the matter still stood that he needed to check for Eliza’s presence, he had promised Angelica. Perhaps he could do so and leave and pursue Hamilton’s ship after the other ship had taken off. Then once he sunk Hamilton’s precious ship, he could continue his search for the Marquis de Lafayette.

So he proceeded as planned, sailed close under a flag of truce. Madison was still resting but Kinloch looked delighted, Jefferson had no idea why. Kinloch was a bit of a mystery to him. “Kinloch, what’s your opinion?”

Kinloch stepped up close to Jefferson, “I think it’s about time I saw the Captain in action, “ and winked before striding off to get the cannons prepared just in case everything went wrong.

Jefferson anchored his ship right along Hamilton’s and boarded, coming face to face with a scowling man. “I assume you’re his first mate?” Jefferson asked.

“Aye. Now, what the fuck do you want?”

“To speak with your Captain, obviously.”

“He’s not here.”

“Ah, the French ship then. Thank you.” Jefferson walked off, Laurens moving to stop him when a hand clamped on his upper arm, halting his motion. He whirled, aiming to punch whoever dared touch him, only to come face to face with Kinloch.

“Francis,” Laurens breathed, freezing up in entirely.

“Hiah, John. Still calling me by my dreaded first name, huh?” Kinloch hated his first name.

Jefferson stopped a Frenchman demanding to know where his Captain was, his tongue easily shaping the French words. The man told him both Captains were in the Captain’s quarters and wished not to be disturbed. Jefferson ignored him and marched for the quarters, wanting to get this whole ordeal over with already. He opened the door only to be greeted by a raw scream and the image of a Frenchman buried deep inside Hamilton. Jefferson froze. He had not been expecting that.

The Frenchman stilled and slowly looked death at Jefferson but was then taken back by not recognizing him as one of his own crew. Hamilton lay panting on the bed, eyes screwed shut, clutching at the sheets. “Who are you?”

“Um.” Jefferson’s eyes ate up the image of Hamilton lying so helpless on the bed, sweat pouring off his body, mouth wide and gasping for air, his face a mix of pain and pleasure. Everything cocky about him was gone, just pure submission and lust. Jefferson felt himself harden. No no no no no no no. He did not want to fuck the very man he’d been chasing across the sea for ages.

Yes, he did.

“I am the Marquis de Lafayette, Captain of this ship and I demand to know your name and your purpose of interrupting me.”

Jefferson was so fucked. The Marquis de Lafayette? Oh, so fucked. The Marquis was hunting for Jefferson’s blood ever since he killed Kalb. Hamilton was against him too. But maybe he could get lucky. “The name is Thomas,” Jefferson said, putting every bit of confidence he had into it.

“Well, as you can see, I’m taking care of some very important business. So, unless you want to join, get out.” Jefferson wanted very much to join, the only problem was everyone in this room wanted him dead.

And he wanted them dead. But now he had the pleasant image of the hot, famous Marquis de Lafayette buried deep in the infamous Hurricane Hamilton.

“Lafayette,” Hamilton gasped, Lafayette pumped ever so slightly at the sound of his name, “Thomas-” His words were cut off as he gasped again, baring his neck, and moaning, making Lafayette all the more eager to return to what he was doing. Jefferson's arousal only grew at hearing his name muttered so lustfully by Hamilton. That bastard.

“Quelle?” Lafayette questioned, “You know him?” Lafayette had never heard Jefferson’s first name before. Hamilton nodded and Lafayette looked toward Jefferson, looking him up and down. “How do you know know Alexandre?”

“Alexandre?” Jefferson questioned, that was Hamilton's first name?

“He's-” Hamilton gasped, Lafayette shifting his position as Hamilton arched slightly, unable to suppress it, not when Lafayette was buried deep inside him and every small movement he made was amplified by Hamilton's senses one hundred fold.

Jefferson watched Hamilton gape and writhed. He wanted that mouth wrapped around his dick, maybe he'd shut up for once. “My and Alex’s relationship is special,” Jefferson found himself saying.

“Thomas-” Hamilton rasped. No doubt trying to cuss him out.

“Alexander, what do you want?” Lafayette asked, pumping once.

“I'll let you continue your business. We can talk later,” Jefferson said, making for the door, his entire body burning with lust from what he just saw. He ducked his head back inside, “Put him on his hands and knees and you can penetrate deeper.” then closed the door behind him.

Lafayette looked down at Hamilton, “Should I have asked him to join us?” he chuckled. Hamilton clenched his teeth and the feeling of Lafayette's chuckles traveling down and into his body. “Where were we?”

“Fuck you,” Hamilton rasped, arching further onto Lafayette.

“I believe that I was fucking you,” Lafayette corrected, pulling mostly out of Hamilton, making him whimper which quickly turned into cries as Lafayette rammed back in.

Jefferson walked briskly back to the top deck, pausing when he saw the postures of Kinloch and Hamilton's first mate. “What's going on here?”

“Oh, Captain, this is John Laurens, an old acquaintance of mine,” Kinloch smiled good naturedly. Laurens looked like he had seen a ghost. “What's the plan?” Kinloch asked.

“Meet me in my quarters, I'll discuss them with you there,” Jefferson replied, already walking off.

Madison had emerged from his room and immediately drank in the situation. Kinloch's and Laurens’ posture screamed history, Jefferson seemed to have seen something that Madison was glad he didn't, and tensions were running high. “This ship is a powder keg waiting to explode” he mumbled to himself. Jefferson grabbed Madison's arm on his way to his quarters and drug him along, Kinloch immediately excusing himself from his conversation and following closely behind, watching carefully.

Jefferson couldn’t get the image out of his head, it was flashing in front of him endlessly. He shook his head, pulling Madison below deck and into his quarters. Kinloch weaseled into the room as well, “Not leaving me out, I hope,” he smirked.

“That’s the ship of the Marquis de Lafayette,” Jefferson said forcefully, releasing Madison and leaning his hands against the wall and dropping his head. Kinloch took a step forward, placing himself just ahead of Madison, “The Marquis? Doesn’t France have a bounty on Hamilton too?”

“Everyone has a bounty on Hamilton,” Jefferson ground out.

“Then maybe the Marquis will take care of Hamilton for us,” Kinloch said carefully.

Madison watched him closely. Kinloch was hiding something and Madison was going to bet it had something to do with Hamilton’s first mate. “Unlikely. The Marquis and Hamilton are fucking.”

Kinloch looked at Madison and then studied Jefferson’s posture and how he was grinding his teeth. “Ah.”

“More likely, they’ll team up against us, France and the English Navy aren’t exactly buddies right

now. We are at war,” Madison said.

“And the Hurricane would be a priceless addition to any navy. Is the Marquis trying to recruit Hamilton?” Kinloch asked.

“We need to fall back before they finish fucking and decide to tear our ship apart,” Madison said.

“What about, Eliza?” Kinloch asked.

“You’re just delaying our departure,” Madison sail coolly, “Have some unfinished business?”

“I don’t know what you-”

“Will you two stop bickering for two seconds and let me think?” Jefferson snapped. Both Kinloch and Madison fell silent, arms crossed over their chests and staring each other down. Jefferson turned to face them and they each dropped their arms and looked to him. “Eliza is what matters most right now. It’s why we didn’t just blow them up in the first place. We have to ascertain whether she’s on the ship or not. Hamilton and Lafayette are currently indisposed for a limited amount of time. We need to get the information and reevaluate from there.”

“I know the fastest way,” Kinloch replied, thinking. “I can be back here in a matter of minutes.”

“Fine. Do it. Now,” Jefferson said, gazing locking on Madison as he dismissed Kinloch.

Kinloch didn’t budge. “I need a second pair of hands. Madison.” Madison’s head snapped around to look at Kinloch, about to protest, “There’s no other option,” Kinloch said, tone even and calm.

“Fine.”

Madison hesitated before following Kinlock out.